The Chaos Continues

     The general craziness of life around here continues. I've been dividing my time between finishing my position at the Buffalo VA hospital, and learning my new position at the Olean VA clinic. Which includes working through my vacation. That's okay though, as I have a lot to learn at the new position. The very first thing I learned was, I need to occasionaly be on video with various Doctors and medical personnel, and, my hair looked awful. Nothing like seeing oneself on live video camera, to make one want an immediate haircut, and swear to never ever touch a carb or starch ever again. I imagine this will be the best diet ever.

     To solve the hair problem, a desperate call to my hairdresser little sister was put in. Having my sister do my hair is a cross between happy memories bonding time, and the respectful terror one holds for a temperamental French Chef.
     Complete freedom with my (just past the shoulders) hair was given to my sister at her request, and, before I knew it, I could feel her scissors snipping away near my ears.
     "Mom! Are you getting the same haircut as me?!" gasps my buzz cut little George
     "Ahhh, heh heh! I don't know! It's a surprise!" I trill nervously, as my sister does all but threaten to stab me with her scissors. "I better not see ONE bad thing about this haircut on Facebook!" She threatens murderously. She never mentioned my Blog, however, and never reads it, so, I'm pretty safe here....
     In all reality, when she was done, I had very little hair, and a messy pixie cut, and I love it. I was yelled at at length, for not knowing immediately where my hair dryer was, and for not owning "Products", including mousse and gunk. So, those were provided. The gunk looks and smells like blue taffy, right before it hardens. And it does lovely spiky things to my hair. My older sister has announced she hates it, but, overall, I love it.

     Since this was supposed to be a vacation in Maine, and it just didn't happen this year, while I have been working, Bearded Man has decided to scrape the house! I totally did not see that coming. I think a definite color has been chosen, but I am not mentioning any wretched colors here. It will have to be a surprise, so that no one can tell me it is awful before it is on the house. And after, most people wouldn't say it out loud near me anyhow. Maybe, just maybe, the house will be painted before the Christmas decorations go up! The thought of Christmas however, is an entirely different set of panic, so, lets move on.

     Recently while at work, I received a message that George, age 3.5, had demanded his training wheels be taken off his bike. Within 10 minutes, I am told, he was riding like a pro, doing skids, jumping a ramp, riding around the block, and peddling while standing. Lord help me. He has already requested that the ramp be raised, has worn the tread off his back tire, due to skidding, and is practicing wheelies. I imagine I could easily become an alcoholic, or very religious, because of that child.

     School is getting ready to begin next week. In Franklinville, we have 2 schools. Pre-K through 6 in one school, and 7-12 across the road, in the other school. Kaila begins in "The Big" school this year. We recently had her orientation picnic there, and I had to drag her the entire walk over. She doesn't handle change well, and is completely convinced she will hate it. Her new teacher announced that he takes students to see Broadway shows at Shea's in Buffalo, so she is willing to give school a shot. But not happily.
       Poor kid. Sometimes, you have to just hide the heartbreaking sympathy, and be firm. I told her to stop carrying on, she would survive, chin up, and stop being so dramatic. And that she can always have a cup of tea when she gets home.
     George has a change coming up, as well! We needed to find a sitter to cover one hour every day. My kids have never ever gone to a sitter; we always had them come to our house. But, a girl I know around the corner watches kids, and has agreed to take George for that hour. He seemed okay about it, as we walked over. But suddenly, his little hand was in mine, and he whispers, "Is she nice, Mom?"

     "Of course she is nice!"

     "Okay."..................................... "But, what if she isn't?"

     "Oh, honey, she will always be nice! She is a very nice lady."

     "What if she doesn't like me?"

Insert immediate desire to quit every single job I now hold, and the strongest desire to stay home EVER. Things went well, he decided it was a good place to go, the toys met his standards, and there is another little boy his age. But, on the way home, there were tantrums and tears over nothing, all the way home. Poor kid. In reality, he will probably love it, and throw fits when he has to be walked back home every day....

     Honestly, I wish this could be more amusing etc etc. It has the flavor of one of those annoying pretentious Christmas newsletters, I think. Honestly, I am writing this at work after thinking it would be a splendid idea to drive from the VA in Olean, across the state to the VA in Buffalo, to pick up an extra shift. Truthfully, I am too tired to write anything remotely intelligent. Hopefully next week I can pound out a Blog that is somewhat fun to read.

     Have a great holiday weekend!