Five Dollar Jewelry

     Yesterday I picked up my very first pair of bifocals. I attempt to write this with varying degrees of dizziness and distortion. Since I regularly preach to my patients that they need to give their bodies time to adjust to new things like this, in order for it to be successful, I feel I need to wear these glasses and practice what I preach. Thus far, all they've done is bring back the headache I have been battling for the last few weeks. Also, I feel like this pretty much means I'm on my way to being old now, and can confidently scream at kids to get off my lawn.

     This is also being written on a very rare weekend off. I decided to take a few days off between both jobs, so I could get me house back in order. I cannot deal with a messy house, and, I haven't had time to get it into shape all summer. The kids do what they can occasionally, when I have a meltdown, but, it needs the "mom touch". I stumbled out of bed yesterday with grand plans to begin the overhaul of my home. The first thing I saw as I descended the stairs was the couch. Or, what used to be the couch. The couch I have literally only owned for 7  years. It's taken quite the beating over time. It's been bounced on by four children and eaten by the husky, and, now, the middle section is no more. George was sitting in it, his backside nearly touching the floor, while his legs dangled out of it awkwardly. "Kids." I sighed, mentally calculating the monthly payments and the extension of working a second job even longer, "We need to go shopping for furniture." So, loading them into the van, we headed off to find new living room furniture. Truthfully, it all needed to be replaced. New furniture was ordered and financed, while I mentally prayed the kids and dogs are all old enough not to bounce on, destroy or eat the new furniture, and it lasts longer than seven years this time around.

     Anyhow. Today is the day the house will be cleaned. Just as soon as I am done putting it off by writing this blog. There's a lot of house to clean...

     We need to talk about my addiction. Seriously. It began on Facebook. Normally, if someone is selling something, I ignore it and go on my way. I decline the invites for leggings, pearls, nail stickers, oils, jewelry parties, supplements, kids books - all of it. A friend began selling five dollar jewelry. But not obnoxiously. It was just pictures of jewelry, and, all one had to do was comment "sold" on any piece and it was yours! What's five dollars, right? Except, I don't wear jewelry. I own very little, I do not work any jobs conducive to wearing jewelry, and, if I am not at work, I am at home complaining about how tired I am. Also not conducive to wearing jewelry. I've hinted, begged and pleaded for jewelry from the Bearded Man over the years, but, I think my chances are pretty slim. He handed me a package of strawberry licorice for my birthday this year. I don't think anything sparkly is in my future.
     I began to comment "sold" on everything. A bracelet hear. Necklace there. All the necklaces came with matching earrings too! Suddenly, I had piles and piles of sparkly bling. I put corkboards up in my bathroom to tack it all up as I bought it. I took a picture of this insanity and sent it to my older sister. "I don't wear jewelry, but I can't stop buying this!"
     "Give it to your girls." she advised.
     "NO! I am not giving it away!"
     "Let them use it then."
     "Absolutely not. It's my five dollar bling."
     "You need to block your dealer."
     It was a real problem. Every time those pictures sailed across my screen of five dollar sparkles I would probably never wear, I couldn't help but comment "sold!" on multiple pieces. While marveling that I could have used that money to buy a piece of quality jewelry at this point. Because I had bought all this stuff, I felt honor bound and obligated to wear it every time I left the house in anything other than scrubs. It's become something of a barrier. When visiting my mother, whose days with us are dwindling faster every time I see her, and fighting tears while talking to staff, or watching her - sometimes as she screams this is my fault, and other times when she just wants me to hold her hand. I find my fingers twisting bracelets, or absently running through necklace strands while trying to keep steady through it all. When dragging myself to obligatory events outside of home or work, while wishing desperately for an early bedtime, I find myself piling on this five dollar version of a child's safety blanket, and realizing I am reaching for whatever piece of jewelry I am wearing, while getting through the event.
     Not that I am anti social - but nursing single day without a day off is stressful and exhausting. Putting aside the nurse title and going to see my mother, and switching caps from caregiver to family member is always a little odd for me. I find I am just not up to extra events and obligations right now. Thus, reaching for cheap sparkly bling to hide behind and play with while wishing for sleep.

      Which brings us to a rare and wonderful 4 days off at home to get things done. We are on day two, by the way, and nothing has been done aside from picking up bifocals and ordering furniture.

     Update on the kids! Kaila is getting ready to start her senior year next week! How did this happen already? Both of my girls met me at the small local mall the other day after work. Lexi had seen her dream homecoming dress, and begged to go get it before it was sold out. I ended up buying both girls their homecoming dresses while we were there, and was shocked when Lexi announced "Oh wow! You're buying my first and Kaila's last homecoming dress!" what??? I almost can't bear it.
   
     I had the boys at my sister's salon recently for haircuts, and got a call from the middle/high principal asking permission to put Joe in advanced classes. I told her I would be upset if he wasn't - he hadn't been even remotely challenged in school last year. For him it was a necessary thing he needed to get through in order to get back to his quiet corner full of books or mine craft at home. On a side note - Joe and Lexi both have discovered Harry Potter this summer. I don't care if I never hear anything Harry Potter related for the rest of my life. It's pretty much all either one of them want to talk about anymore. Unless Joe suddenly starts analyzing information he's read up and watched regarding mars, or, discussing human cell and DNA mutation. You never know. With Joe, he's either playing Legos and laughing like a regular 13 year old, or, he's reciting combinations of the periodic table and what would happen if you mix them together.
     I was never so proud of my kids - Joe in particular - than recently. A few weeks ago, Joe's best friend's mother died unexpectedly in a car accident. The entire incident was beyond tragic, and I just couldn't stop crying for this kid. How do you tell your own child about his friend's mother? Joe's first remark was "I need to call Seth." and, before I knew it, Seth was spending a lot of time at my house. On the day of his mother's wake/service, Seth appeared on our porch before it began, and, fighting tears asked if we could come to the funeral home now. "It doesn't even look like her." he said. So, gathering the kids, we went right over. We stayed for the entire wake. My kids have not had to deal too much with death, and have never seen a body at a wake. I wasn't sure how they would deal with this. Seth led us around, showing us pictures of his mother, and describing most of them. He then led us to see his mother. My boys were respectful and supportive the entire time. Joe never left his side, and George tagged along with them too. My kids crowded around Seth during the service, crying right along Seth, Joe with his arm around him, during the brief service after. Joe ended up spending the night with his friend, and I was beyond proud of the truly decent and incredible kids I have. I wasn't sure how they would deal with death, especially of a friend's mother, but, they definitely made me proud, seeing their kindness and support.
     Seth has been spending most weekends with us since it happened, but, grinned and said he would probably skip this weekend, to get out of getting roped into cleaning... it was good to see him laugh.

     Alrighty. I need to clean my house. I cannot deal with the mess any longer. There is husky hair everywhere. While we were on vacation recently, the kennel text me and offered a discount if we would let her groom the dogs - the husky in particular. She said the hair was taking over her kennel. Welcome to the world of huskies. The hair loss is unbelievable. It was actually taken into consideration while picking out the new furniture, as well as the rug I bought for the living room a few months ago. No matter how much anyone sweeps or vacuums - it's everywhere. I suspect the husky personality is the awesome way it is, to compensate for the ridiculous amount of hair they lose on a daily basis...
 
   

   

I Conquered the Peaches!

     Not sure how many of you remember a blog a few years ago, about my first attempt at making peach preserves. It was an absolute disaster and it has taken years for the trauma to fade enough for me to attempt it again. I am so excited to announce that, I managed to turn half a bushel of peaches into preserves, and I canned the other half into quart jars, and, it was a success!
    
     We've had a lot going on this summer, and time has been at a premium, however, there's been so much stress between working both of my jobs, and my mother's declining health, that, I just keep canning things. It keeps me and my hands busy, and uses some of the frenetic energy I seem to have pent up.
     I read an article the other day (my work internet defaults to MSN, when I attempt to use another window, which is all day. And so, I end up scrolling through the news and articles and learning things like: pretty much every single thing you eat will cause cancer and terrible health issues and ultimately kill you. I cannot think of one food item that wasn't covered on the list.)
     Anyhow. I read this article that indicated that being negative around other people makes them miserable too. So, I've been canning and baking and freezing pretty much everything. Because, honestly, nobody wants to hear how stressed anybody is. Unless they are being paid to listen to how stressed you are. And in which case, they will give you lots of advice as to how to deal with the stress that you don't want to hear, because you just want to vent, and so, I saved the therapy money and just canned a small fortune in fruits and sugar.
     And now I need to find the time to clean out what is supposed to become my pantry because I really cannot have 90 pints of preserves in my kitchen indefinitely. 

     Since the last blog, I've started a weekend job with a nursing agency. It didn't take too long to get back into the swing of things, and, except for the patient who died on my first day on the job (NOT because of me, by the way...just to clarify) it's been a good job. I took some time off from it though, to help out with my mother's health issues. We found out unexpectedly that she has end stage cancer, and she has declined considerably over the last month.
     My mother has always been a fiercely private and independent person, and it's been rough to watch this person who is nothing like my mother, as she works through each day in increasing confusion while she slowly fades.
     My kids have been incredible, while I've spent so much time driving back and forth to my jobs, the hospital, meetings, making funeral plans, and now, heading to visit her as often as possible. I missed most of George's soccer games this summer, and have spent more time away from my kids then not. Except for the occasional "I really really miss you Mom" from the kids, they have been a huge help around the house while I've been gallivanting all over the country side between work and family issues.
    
      This summer hasn't been all bad! I had a work trip to New York City last month. I was offered the option of driving or taking a train. I'm a fairly confident driver, but, I have no desire to ever drive the insanity that is NYC. So, I took the train. The eight hours flew by, and eventually it rolled into the city. A man sitting across the aisle looked at my suitcase and my heavy tote, full of all the training materials I would need and asked me how I planned to get to my hotel. With a strong Brooklyn accent, he pointed out that taxi's would be overpriced and impossible to find, I would never get all my bags onto the subway, even if I could figure it out, and, a bus would probably not be a good idea. I was further advised that walking with all that would probably be impossible for any real distance.
     Pondering this, I downloaded the Uber app onto my phone as the city flashed by, and quickly set up an account, and requested a driver like I knew what I was doing. Disembarking from the train, I jogged up out of the bowels of Central Station and out the doors, to find a long line of frantic impatient people standing at a taxi kiosk, and, my Uber driver sliding up to the curb right on time. The driver hopped out, stashed my bags in his trunk, and the proceeded to give me the most terrifying drive of my life, as, we hurtled through the city and narrowly avoided several deadly collisions and pedestrian casualties.
     During my stay, it was like having a magic button on my phone. No matter what the time of day or destination, all I had to do was push the button, and within minutes a vehicle would appear, and, for a few dollars, I could go pretty much anywhere I wanted. Daily, I watched seasoned New Yorkers impatiently wave down indifferent taxis that rarely stopped to pick them up. In frustration they would stand nearly in the middle of the road, begging the taxis to stop to no avail. I was a little surprised they hadn't all figured out how to download the magic button onto their phones, instead of spending all this time in the middle of the road jumping up and down in rage as taxi after taxi zoomed by them.
     I wish I could say that I was sophisticated and cultured and that I caught a show, or perused a museum, or that I played tourist and hit up all the landmarks. I had the perfect opportunity for all sorts of experiences only NYC has to offer. In all honestly though, when I wasn't teaching, or marveling over the magic of Uber, I was tucked into my hotel room and sleeping. So exciting! My cousin from New Jersey and her son did come into the city on my last night there, and we went out to dinner, but, I was still in bed by 10pm.
     As I boarded the train to go home, I was followed by a man who smelled strongly of alcohol, and who, in a heavily accented voice, informed me he had decided to share a seat with me. He happily admitted that he had begun drinking shortly after dawn, that he was from Russia. That he had lived in NYC for many years. That he was visiting his sister in Rochester. He quizzed me about every single movie he had ever seen in the entirety of his 57 years (I felt like quite the failure, and clearly disappointed him, when I admitted that I had not seen any of them. He must have named hundreds of them. For seven straight hours.) During this time, he also managed to offend every single ethnicity riding in that train car, and, one by one, I cringed as people stood up with a huff and tried to find different seating. I was asked if I had any sisters, and if they were as fat or ugly as I was, and, I watched as he made trip after trip to the dining car for more beer.
     The ride home was a lot longer than the ride to NYC had been.

     During my trip, Kaila bought a new car! Her previous car cost her lots and lots of money in parts and repairs, and was up and running for exactly 4 hours before it died on the side of the road on New Year Eve, and it never ran again. It was so good to get my vehicle back again and not have to share it with my equally busy teen!

     Also of note this summer: Lexi and Joe have discovered Harry Potter. I realize that Harry Potter has an almost cult following, and that the next words will offend those faithful followers, but - I hate Harry Potter. I do not ever want to hear about Harry Potter ever again. It is pretty much all they talk about, think about or read. And when they are finished reading Harry Potter - they read it all over again. What sort of spell is in those books? The obsession is incredible.

     Speaking of books: I bought a Kindle. I swore I would never own one, and, wasn't entirely enthused about it when I did decide to order it. The kids excitedly huddled around me while I picked one out on Amazon, and then again while I picked a cover for it. As a solid through and through lover of an actual book in my hand, I had actually felt a sort of revulsion for Kindles. It was actually a member of our Book Club who unknowingly talked me into it. We were sitting near each other at an end of year concert at the kids' school, and she excitedly told me about this book she had just read, and highly recommended it. She mentioned the Overdrive App, and how often she used it to take out e library books, and honestly, I decided on the spot to finally buy a Kindle.
     I cannot stress enough how much I still love a solid real book in my hands, and they will always be my first choice. However, I am absolutely sold on the Kindle and it pretty much goes everywhere with me. I throw it in my purse most days on my way to work, and read on my lunch breaks. Or wherever I happen to be. It's so much easier than toting around a book when space is at a premium, and it was invaluable on my trip to NYC. It's darn near as magical as Uber.

     Okay, that's enough for now. This blog isn't one of the most amusing I've ever written, but, if every day was a carnival, they wouldn't be special, right?
    
    

    

     

Shopping With Joe

     Last night I had to make a last minute run to Wal-Mart. Impulsively I took Joe along with me. I needed to get several odds and ends, and, a new purse. The purse I recently spent an hour trying to choose, is already falling apart. I seem to have no end of problems with purses.

     As we hustled through the store, grabbing what we needed, Joe kept reminding me to not forget a purse. Eventually I had managed to trek the entire super center (and still forgot to get laundry soap.) and it was time to go find a purse. With Joe.

     "What, precisely are you looking for in a purse?"

     "Well, it has to be well made. I mean, this is cute" I said, picking up a purse "but, it is made out of what looks like plastic, and it's going to fall apart in no time."

     "Fair point. What else?"

     "It needs to have a zipper. I always worry that just a snap closure is asking for someone to reach in and rob a person as soon as they aren't looking. And, things tend to fall out and get lost with purses like that."

     "Got it." said Joe in all seriousness. And, he began to search. "Mom. How about this one? It is professional appearing and black, so it will go with everything."

     "Hmmm. Not quite it."

     "This one has the security features you are looking for. It also has several pockets with zippers, so you can store all of your things safely. It even has a place for you to slide your phone into for easy access."

     "Let's keep looking. I am not feeling that one."

     "This one is professional.".... "this one has good security."... "Have you possibly considered a tote bag?"... "I notice that many women have been wearing backpacks. You can store and carry lots of things in a back pack."...."This style has both long and short handles. When your hands are full, you can carry it on your shoulder, or, across your body for added security."..."Do not even look at that one. It makes you appear like a farmer's wife. And you are not a farmer's wife."..."No. That one is not professional looking. You are not fourteen. You should not have pink."..."Not the flowers, Just. No. Also, it is too small for your needs."... "Have you looked at this model?"

     I ended up with a purse that seemed to satisfy Joe and myself and meet the basic requirements. Pleased with the purse shopping, Joe began to launch into the pros and cons of self driving autos, and whether Tesla was on to the wave of the future, or, too many people were afraid of progress and would try to block it because of the unknown. This was a discussion that lasted for some time, before we debated the different genres of science and the benefits and complexity of each and how for some reason, lots of kids just don't "get" it. Or math. Which is perplexing, because they are both so easy. Which launched us into a discussion regarding History, most of which I cannot recall. I do know, however, that it is so fascinating that, I didn't know until recently, he has been taking his school history text book to bed to read, and finished it some time ago.

     I cannot get enough of conversations with Joe. He is headed off to a weekend Scout Camp tomorrow. I think roughing it is good for him. Maybe it gives his brains a break for a few days. Or, at least a different avenue of things to think about.

     This week, I received a call from the school that George had an accident in gym, and that I should probably come get him.
     It turns out he had a concussion which got him sent home from school again the next day, and, I kept him out of school yesterday. This has not endeared him to his teacher, and, I was advised in a note today that exceptions may not be made, and she will not reward his lack of focus even if there was head trauma, nor will she tolerate talking in class. School is almost over. School is almost over. School is almost over. Not even sure how to handle this. I have a strongly worded response to that snarky note, just waiting to send into school. Or, do I ignore this? Talk to the principal? Let it go? Light a candle? Douse her with holy water? I don't even know.

     On to other things. This weekend, I think, is my last weekend before my side job kicks in. I suspect most weekends are going to be spent as an agency nurse again. A few years ago, I worked for this agency, and, they asked me to come back. The paperwork is done, and everything is ready to go. So, I am hoping to spend as much of this weekend as possible in my gardens. I have amassed thus far, seven flats of flowers, with more to come. If I can keep up - my gardens will be wonderful this year. I just need to plant them all.

     Awhile back, I mentioned we had gotten new neighbors. We hadn't actually seen anyone move in, so, we naturally assumed they were probably Sorcerers. It turns out that one of the other neighbors did see signs of them moving, so, I figured they probably  aren't Sorcerers. As handy has it would be to have one as a neighbor, we don't. But, they have been pretty nice so far, and, the kids love their dogs, so, I suppose that works, too. They did wonder why so many people have moved out of their house over the years. My brother in law happened to be present during that conversation, and he said it was probably because of us. They've been there a few months now, and we haven't seen a "For Sale" sign go up yet. However, nicer weather is upon us, and, the kids are outside more now...
     Tonight, the new neighbors put dinner on their grill. Which means nothing to nobody, except, we were in our backyard, when George mentioned there was a lot more smoke then there had been. Looking over, I gasped as I saw flames shooting out of the grill, which was clearly on fire. This brought back an immediate flashback of the day we were all headed to the funeral home for Bearded Man's father's wake, and his next door neighbor's house caught fire and burned to the ground, because of a grill fire.
     I ran around the house and pounded on their front door, and told their teen daughter their grill was on fire, and, Bearded Man jumped over the fence between our back yards and turned off the propane and the burners.
     I kid you not, after we had watched that much fire pour out of that grill, the neighbor wandered outside calm as could be a few minutes later with a glass of water, and delicately poured it on the remaining flames. Completely calm. Calm all over the place. I don't know whether to be absolutely impressed by that level of relaxation, or if I should wonder about our own level of panic there. In retrospect, this sort of reignites the Sorcerer angle. Either way, I am not sure if they were able to save their dinner or not, because we had to get George to his baseball game.

       Alrighty. I need to get up extra early to take George to the doctor to clear him for gym again. It doesn't matter. He sat out of gym today, and managed to get hit by a tire swing during recess today anyway.

     Till next time!

Bearded Man Does Paint Night

     I write this, as I watch George play in a mud puddle, with the Tupperware he bought himself during the Maple Fest last weekend. I feel like the sales lady who sold it to him would have refused the sale, had she known what he planned for it. 

     This past weekend brought the Opening Ceremony for Little League baseball in our town. Every parent I know, had pictures of their children plastered all over Facebook. Super Mom here did not get even one picture of George in his uniform, nor even one part of the game. I figure I have lots of games coming up, I'm sure I will remember to take a picture eventually. While I did not manage to grab a photo of my kid, I did manage to get a few of the deer. All games at the field came to a standstill, as a deer wandered through to check things out. I've heard about this deer. Some say it's sick. Others say it's just domesticated. It lives in the village, and pretty much wanders around town socializing. I really don't know if it's healthy or not, but, the kids thought it was a fun addition to the games. 

     We really didn't have much time after the game, before we headed over to some friends house for a couple's paint night. Bearded Man's friend since school, Josh, and his wife Michelle hosted the paint night. Michelle is a very talented painter, and led the paint night for the rest of us. I should have known, when Bearded Man made a side stop for beer on the way, that it was going to be an interesting night. 

     It was the first time Bearded Man had ever attempted to paint anything that required using paint that didn't need to be mixed up at the paint counter of the Home Depot. Beer in hand, he gamely tucked in to attempt this unknown territory. He was the only person in attendance who hadn't yet done a paint night. At some point, it was decided by the men present, that every time the term "wispy" was used, a drink needed to be taken. There was a lot of wispy in our paintings. The more he drank, the louder he became. "Jasin! You are getting pretty loud..." I said, and I was informed that the only reason he seemed loud, was because I was sober. 

    Several times, everyone stopped to take breaks. And then got to talking and forgot to start back up again. I believe, all told, the paintings took approximately three and a half hours. Even though the men had taken entirely too many "wispy" related drinks, the paintings turned out pretty good. I was a little worried though, because today was the last day of Sunday School, and Bearded Man was an integral part of the plans. 

      The year that I played "Blue's Brothers" for the Last Day of Sunday School party has continued to haunt me as one of the most talked about memories in the household. Looking at my bored and unimpressed class a few weeks ago, I decided to talk about the last day party. Since I honestly have no VHS tapes that any 7th or 8th grader wants to sit through (It's Disney or Blue's Brothers around here. There's really nothing in between.) I hit on a stroke of inspiration, and asked them if they would like to do a hot dog roast outside in the church parking lot and gardens this year. I offered to bring our badminton net and racquets and a volley ball and all sorts of outdoor things to play with. It was the most enthused I've seen them all year. So, it was decided to plan an outdoor picnic. And then within ten minutes, it spread through the other Sunday School classes, and, we included all of them in the plans. 

      In addition to the badminton set, we brought a volley ball, basket ball, cones to make an obstacle course, piles of sidewalk chalk and stencils, a bubble machine, jump ropes, hula hoops and hot dogs, rolls and condiments. The other teachers brought food to add to the picnic, and we waited to see how it would go. Bubbles were floating through the festivities, and the kids arrived, walked past the teachers, and had the best day of Sunday School this year. They were spread all over the church grounds, engaged and content for the entire duration of the party. I did have to ask Kaila to please cover up the Illuminati symbol someone had drawn right in the middle of the rectory driveway, very nicely for the pastor to see. And, I also asked a group of boys to please cover up and/or erase the anatomically correct drawing of a male (monster? I don't even know. It was creepy)that was apparently urinating over a toilet. I decided to pick my battles, and let another drawing of a monster stay. Otherwise there were pictures of rainbows and flowers and such. 

   Jasin and Josh were texting each other first thing this morning to inquire as to the recovery of the wispy drinking. Neither of them drink more than the occasional libation normally, but, they both claimed to be in tip top shape this morning. I had been concerned that he wouldn't be functional for the Sunday School party today, but, he seemed okay. I had privately thought that possibly if he wasn't high functioning, I would finally be able to relinquish my "Blue's Brothers" notoriety. He seemed fine, if not quieter than usual, and managed to grill hot dogs and transport everything I needed him to with minimal complaint. 

     

     One more thing of note: Lexi has discovered Harry Potter. She's reading through the series faster then the library opens for her to get the next one. I am not even kidding when I say that she has been curled up in whatever quiet place she can find, reading those books, while wearing a tiara. A tiara because she is Lexi, and we expect nothing less from her. 

      Not sure if Joe will get into Harry Potter, or not. He's currently into mythology. I literally had to pause writing this to order the latest book in the current series he's working on. 

      Both of them sold flowers for the annual school 7th and 8th grade flower sale. The orders were turned in last week, and everything all set, when Bearded Man pointed out I will be out of town when they come in, and he has exactly no idea what the difference is between "Salmon" and "Pink" geraniums are. Nor does he know what  "blue pearl" vs "lipstick" impatiens are. This could be problematic, as, we sold lots of flowers. I think the best I can  do is have him bring them home, and water them occasionally until I can distribute them after I get back.

     One more update regarding the library book sale Mary Higgins Clark dilemma mentioned in the last Blog: I went back a few days later and bought them all. Every last one. 

     I am sure this could have been more exciting, but, this is the busiest time of year for us. I don't expect things to settle down again until school is out for the summer. Till next time!

 

     

George Joins the FBI. His Teacher Probably Joins Counseling.

     We just had the busiest weekend I can recall in a long time. At the moment, I should be cleaning the aftermath, doing the dishes and catching up on laundry. But I just can't right now. So here we are.
      I was driving home from work about a month ago, when I suddenly realized that George's First Reconciliation and Communion were scheduled for the same weekend as the Annual Maple Fest. I had also promised friends that Lexi could babysit in the middle of it. I nearly drove off the road when it hit me that this was going to be nearly impossible. All of these things were scheduled to take place in different directions, and the logistics were going to be tricky. I explained to the Sunday School people that George had to march in a parade in our town at 11 am the day of First Reconciliation, and that it was going to be tough to get him to church, half hour away, by noon. I said we may be a little late, but that we would be there. I was regretfully told that the dates and times couldn't be changed, but, they were understanding, and I promised I would do my best to get him there in time.
     Friday evening, the insanity began. George had last minute baseball practice. Joe had a friend from Boy Scouts spending the night so we could get him to the parade the next morning. Last minute a friend of mine came over, and we ended up visiting until two in the morning. Since I will probably be pulling a lot of second and third shifts in the very near future with job number two, I figure this was good practice.
     Saturday morning dawned with annual Maple Fest Book Sale. The line cutting old ladies from years past have settled down, so, the initial wait to get in isn't as much fun as it used to be. We all filed into the library in relative peace and began the annual search. I was surprised, as, this was probably the smallest book sale I can recall. I mentioned that to one of the volunteers, and she agreed that it was smaller than usual. There just wasn't as many donations. "Be careful what you wish  for. When I die, you're getting all these back, plus the rest of my collection..." I cautioned. They laughed, but, seriously, I have a lot of books. I can confidently say it would be a pretty big addition to the annual sale. I have recently discovered a love for Mary Higgins Clark. Not sure why I haven't really read her books before, but, I found myself picking up all the Mary Higgins Clark books I could find. And then putting some back, because, what if someone else wanted some too? Then picking them back up. Then putting them back, because, it's not nice to be greedy. So, I only took about half of them, so I wouldn't feel guilty. And now I wish I would have just bought them all anyway. Ah well. Hopefully the rest of them found good homes!
      Back home, it was time to get ready for the annual parade. Where it poured. And poured. And poured. I ended up missing most of it, as, Bearded Man shoved George out of the parade at me, and I took him home to dry him off and haul him to church.
      Somewhere along the way, I began to wonder how I am going to handle the second job. Partly because I have no time to take it on, and partly because I was suddenly I was more exhausted than I could bear. Well. I'm sure I will manage. I always do.
      Sunday, George put his suit on for his First Communion. He added sunglasses to the ensemble and flatly refused to take them off. His Sunday School teacher asked that he at least put them on top of his head for church, but I managed to get them off of him about halfway through Mass. I managed to keep him in line for the entire duration of church. I didn't see a halo over him at any point, but I am sure it was there somewhere
     He wore the entire suit ensemble to school today. It's been a rough year for George's teacher. She graduated from college shortly before getting hired as a Second Grade Teacher this year. ("I was captain of the college cheer squad the whole time I was there!" She gushed the first time I met her.) Not sure who thought it was a good idea to initiate her with George, but, here we are. I think she will be happy to see him move on, truthfully. Anyhow. George informed her today that he was with the FBI. The impression I got was that she was not as excited about it as he and his friends were.
     While we were at church Sunday, Kaila was assisting with the annual SAPS race. She had volunteered Bearded Man's truck and herself to be the 10k water girl. Bearded Man has a big Dodge Ram quad cab 4x4. This truck is a tank, and the first time I drove it was through a raging snow storm (where I was terrified not of crashing, but what Bearded Man would do to me if I crashed his baby...) anyhow, it held up like a champ in the snow, and I feel perfectly safe driving it in crazy weather. Somehow, Kaila managed to get this beast stuck in the mud with two other kids in the truck. Apparently a teacher had to call her husband to come pull the truck out. He allegedly pointed out that his truck was smaller and managed to pull the behemoth out, which certainly chaffed the Bearded owner of the insulted truck. Anyhow, Kaila wasn't sure she would survive if her dad found out, but, mostly we laughed about it, to her relief. She greeted us nervously as we backed in the driveway after church with "I can explain!" and "I promise the truck is FINE!"  Since the truck was fine, she is still among the living.

     Anyhow we survived the weekend and everything got done and I have no idea how we did it. But, we did!
   
      Mention needs to be made of Joseph here. I know he's set on being a scientist. This year, he joined "Youth Court" and takes the entire process very seriously. Youth Court is where kids preside over actual cases involving kids. Joe memorized most of the law book they were given, and, uses it frequently in every day life. This has made me realize that Joe has a definite knack for law. Recently one of his sisters got in trouble. I was lost as to how to deal with it, until Joe stepped in. " Make her write a very long essay about the potential consequences of her actions on herself and others." he advised matter of factly. So, calling her from her bedroom, I announced the punishment, and then added Joe's spark of brilliance to it. She was told she has to write an essay, the terms and subject matter were given, as well as the timeline. "Make sure she includes resources and web links, Mom." interrupted Joe. "Yes. That too." I agreed, while his sister scowled at him in a way that left no doubt as to her future intentions to beat the daylights of him as soon as we were out of earshot.
   
     That pretty much wraps up the current craziness. It's been so busy, I haven't had two seconds to do these blogs. This morning I reminded Kaila that we are going to go see The Phantom of the Opera this week. (Biggest fan ever over here! I think this will be at least the eighth time I've seen it now?) Kaila didn't display an adequate amount of excitement at this announcement, and, even though it's part one of her 17th birthday present (part two is "Love Never Dies, the Phantom Returns") She was informed that she had better step up the enthusiasm for this show, or forfeit it - nothing personal. I was once again informed of my insanity, and she left to get ready for school. So, I guess I will probably still take her.

     One more thing: I have a lot of landscaping bricks and concrete garden boarders I need to utilize, that are stacked next to my house. Mostly, George has been using them for whatever creations he can come up with to destroy my side lawn (you can have a nice lawn, or you can have kids. You cannot have both.) I have decided to put them to use this year, and have all sorts of plans for my gardens. Springtime: when the optimism of gardening is fresh and the amnesia of the neglect they had during the previous years sets in. Once again, I have lots of plans, will spend lots of money, and, invest lots of time initially, and then, two jobs and motherhood will remind me I don't have the time or energy for this and the guilt of the neglect will hit me every time I look at my unweeded flower beds.
     The good intentions are there though! I can't bear to see a neglected plant. Yesterday, I was walking past the high school on the way home from the Maple Fest, and I stopped in front of the ag room greenhouse. I looked in horror at all the wilted and dying vegetable plants in the window. Right in the middle of the massacre, was a watering can. "Kaila! What kind of person plants these things and then neglects them this badly???" I demanded in outrage. "I don't know. It's the ag people." "LOOK at that!!!!!! There's a watering can RIGHT THERE! It's like some sick horror movie, where you die a long and miserable death, while the only thing that can save you is right out of reach!" "Mom! Really?" "I mean, LOOK! This is terrible. Those poor plants!" "I think we should cross the road mom." anyway. I have good intentions. Just like the monster in the ag room.

     Okay. I really need to get to bed. I am sure I will think of thirteen other things I should have added to this as soon as I hit the publish button, but, I've had three phone calls, two different Facebook private messages, sent four kids to bed, and promised someone I would make sure I check out the full moon before I go to bed. Therefore; this is choppy and probably a mess.

     Ah well. Till nex time!

Scared of My Hairdresser, so, Going for the Hippy Look Now

     I am supposed to be grocery shopping right now. But, I just don't feel like spending lots of money on food every single person in the household will hate at the moment, so, here we are. I have been advised that corndogs would be an acceptable item to buy, and, alerted that we need strawberry jam. But, otherwise, nothing else is even remotely appetizing to my children anymore.

      Last night was the First Annual Cub Scout All You Can Eat Spaghetti Dinner and Mini Gun Raffle. The Bearded Man was a little nervous about this. It's his first year running things to some extent, and, lots of other leaders seemed to think it would be something of a failure and the Scouts would lose money on this venture. After scheduling it, they learned that several other gun raffles were happening in the area at the same time. The turn out ended up exceeding expectations, and, ended up being the best fund raiser the Cub Scouts have had as long as my kids have been part of Scouting. I had left to go pick Kaila up at work, and, when I arrived at the venue, I walked in and was shocked at how packed the building was. I think plans are in the works to do it again next year, too! This couldn't have happened without the combined efforts of all the Cub leaders, including Bearded Man's friend since high school, Josh, and his wife Michelle. Josh and Michelle put a lot of work into the raffle and really made it work. At the end of the night, we invited them over to celebrate the success of the fund raiser. Josh and I have the same affinity for Captain Morgan, so, I stopped off to grab a bottle on my way home. Standing in the local liquor store pondering the bottle sizes, I decided to splurge for the big bottle, and, headed home.
       A disclaimer needs to happen here. As much as I talk about drinking, I rarely do. I think the last time I had a Captain Morgan and cola, was on Thanksgiving, truthfully. That being said, I came home and poured myself a drink, and remembered how very much I love Captain Morgan, and decided it was worth the money to spring for the bigger bottle. An hour and a half and five Captain Morgans later, I was counting pretty strongly on a pending ice storm to hit, and cancel Sunday School today. The more I thought about it, the more I thought that it was almost inevitable that the doom of the weather reports and the urgent email from the electric company nearly guaranteed that there would be no foreseeable way that we would be able to get half hour away to church. So, in my deliciously buzzed state, I reasoned mentally that all this Captain Morgan being dumped on a system that really rarely drinks anymore, would not be an issue at all. If I can't be in church due to weather, then, the Good Lord wouldn't mind at all that I would potentially be in no shape to teach Sunday School. And poured another one.
      The Good Lord wasn't having it, apparently, because, the roads were fine this morning, and, we had to go to church. And teach Sunday School. Which ended up just fine, because, there were no residual effects of Captain Morgan except ridiculously reddened eyes, as evidenced by all the snap chat filters Kaila tested on me first thing this morning.
      Not that we're counting, but, there's only 4 Sunday School Days left until we break till September.

     I should mention that Bearded Man's shed in the driveway is now to be known as the "In Law Quarters." Last night, I ran into some people I knew, while we waiting for the Fund Raiser to start. One guy mentioned that he's happiest in his garage. When he dies, he'd be perfectly happy going to his garage, instead of heaven. Which reminded me of a story I had heard one time about someone who had sold their house. The new owners were a little horrified when the previous home owners sheepishly knocked on the door some time after the new owners moved in, and, asked if they could get Grandma out of the garage. It seems Grandma's ashes were left behind during the move. I mused that I would probably resort to breaking and entering for that one, because I don't know that I could knock on the door and explain I had left grandma in the garage.
      The conversation continued, but, I was thinking about it this morning. In shock, I called Bearded Man. "Jasin! Where is your mother????"
      "I think my sister has her."
      "NO! I mean, your part of your mom???" (He has a vial of her ashes.)
      "Oh. Out in my shed."

      Before we get all outraged: he loves his shed. It's not like his mother was thrown in with the garden tools for lack of better place. Anyhow. I figure, it will make it better if we call the shed the Mother in Law quarters now, so it's not quite so bad.

     For Easter, as usual, my little sister came for dinner. One year we went to Florida, and, I am still hearing about the trauma of Brianna not spending Easter at my house. While she was over for dinner, we talked about how her picture had somehow become viral on Facebook. It was shared all over the world, and she was receiving declarations of love and devotion, as well as marriage proposals from pretty much everywhere. I tried to explain to her that most of the men she was talking about were not even real, but, she was sure that a few of them were the real deal. There was one in particular from Egypt. He was highly offended that we were having ham for Easter, and urged her quite emphatically to give up all pork products. It would be a deal breaker for their future together. It was all I could do, not to tag her in a picture of the ham, fresh out of the oven. Anyhow, during the visit at our house, Egypt guy asked for a picture of her with me. Bearded Man happened to talk through the kitchen at that point, and happily grinned next to my sister. Beard and trucker hat and flannel and everything. Off the picture went: My sister and Bearded Man. Which received the response of a "thumbs up" symbol. Anyhow. I think we convinced her he was probably not a good idea.
      I do have a dilemma though. My sister does my hair, and the kids' hair. We all need our hair done, but, she's been pretty busy lately. I am forbidden to go to anyone else for hair needs (She tags me in the "Cheating on your barber" You Tube video with regularity) So, now my generally frizzy and unmanageable hair has an alarming amount of grays that I am terrified to mention to her. Or color myself. Or go anywhere else. So, there's a good chance that, since I am pretty much scared of my little sister, I may need to adopt the hippy/natural look.

     Oh. Since I have mentioned that I rarely drink, this next part will make me look like I have a problem. The Franklinville Book Club recently had a meeting that began at a local winery with a wine tasting. I sipped through several wines, before I landed on Red Raspberry wine. It was so good, that I brought a bottle home. And then, I went back last week, and bought another one. I gushed about it so much, that the lady who was working at the winery offered to drive some to my house whenever I needed more. I figured that would tip me right into alcoholic status, so, I regretfully declined. I invited a friend over to try it. She said she doesn't drink wine anymore, because it didn't settle well with her last time she drank wine. And then we proceeded to split the bottle with no ill effects. So, now I need another one.

     Speaking of problems, I think I blame my job in some part for the sudden uptake in alcohol. I arrived home one day last week stressed beyond all measure, and in a very snappy mood. I just couldn't shake this mood, and was trying desperately not to take it out on my kids. I threw together dinner while Kaila talked about a First Aid/CPR course she is taking at school. One of the scenarios she mentioned was about a lady who is in the kitchen cutting something up for dinner or whatever, and, a knife falls on her arm, cutting across the inner forearm and there's blood everywhere and she's going into shock. I swear, I slammed down a cooking utensil right then and snapped, "Well, after she gets stabilized, she's probably going on suicide watch, and is looking at some time in psych, because she just slit her damn wrist, and if she tells you otherwise, she's a dirty liar, and nobody treating her is not going to think she just tried to kill herself, and out of the LITERALLY THOUSANDS OF WAYS A PERSON CAN HURT THEMSELVES IN A KITCHEN, THIS IS THE BEST EXAMPLE THEY CAN COME UP WITH????!!!!!!" To my poor kid's shock. "Seriously!!! Nobody "drops" a knife across their radial artery. Knives don't just "fall" across your radial artery. You don't miss the vegetables and "accidently" cut yourself eight inches away from the counter!" I raged on in aggravation, before catching myself and trying not to continue. "Anyhow." I took a deep breath "I do hope that your takeaway from the lesson was to put pressure on the wound and all that."
     "You are such a cute little crazy person." said Kaila. "And, yeah, we put pressure on the wound and keep her warm since she's in shock, and call 911."
   
     On that note, I am one pre-employment drug screening test away from another job. I should be cleared to start within the next week or so. This could adversely effect the weekend schedules around here indefinitely, but, it is what it is. On the "up" side, it should keep me busy enough that that bottle of Captain Morgan lasts a good long time. And, the Red Raspberry wine will remain too far away for me to have time to buy it. So, it's an overall good thing for my liver and moral constitution and all that.
   
      Till next time!

Falling House Watch

     The last week or so was rough. I honestly was beginning to question the possibility of much good in the world. News headlines screamed terrible things. I watched and listened to people treat others and myself in ways that, not long ago would have been unacceptable and subject to immediate rebuke. These days, it's a way of life. Honestly, the over saturation of the "bad" tends to overshadow the "good" sometimes. I was talking to a friend about it recently, and we both agreed it's hard to not become cynical and uncaring as a defense mechanism.

      Anyhow, I think possibly the last few days showed hope for humanity. Thursday night and into Friday, we were hit by a crazy storm, that, within a matter of hours changed our melted landscape to a few feet of wet heavy snow. It took down trees and electric lines and made travel nearly impossible in places.
     In the middle of this, one street over from us, the home of some friends burned. They lost everything, including their two dogs.
     The news spread around town before the fire was even put out. As soon as everyone heard, not only were the usual heartfelt prayers sent up for the family, but, those prayers were backed up with offers of help, donations, a pay pal account, a Go Fund Me account, a meal train, an assessment of immediate needs, and an entire town rallied together to help these people out, as they watched their home burn down in the driving snow. When I mean the whole town, I mean, the whole town. Including the Town Supervisor, and the Principal of the Elementary school. Friends, neighbors, and even people who didn't even know this family all helped in some way, or even shared the Go Fund Me page, to help them out.

     Friday morning, as people stumbled out of their homes to survey the snow and the damage, once again, neighbors rallied together. Help was given moving downed branches, cars were dug out. Assistance was given with stuck cars, strangers helped shovel, plow, and snow blow driveways and sidewalks, with no expectation of money or recognition. Just people being decent. Offers of a warm place to stay and shower were given by those with electricity, to those without. All over town, people helped where they saw a need, and relief efforts for the family who lost their home continued as well.

      Faith in humanity restored. In the spirit of things, I signed up to take dinner to them. I threw my name in the first available date, clicked "accept" and then about five minutes later, realized I had just signed up to take them dinner on the same day as "Root Canal Part Two" you know, when my face will be numb, and completely paralyzed on the left side. Why not go visiting people with food, when your face is temporarily deformed?

     Today, the roads are all cleared and electricity has been restored to most of those affected, and the cleanup effort continues where needed. Also: our two week hiatus from Sunday School was over. Off to church I drove, kids in tow. I am not kidding, when I write that last night I dreamt that I had drunk large amounts of liquor in preparation for class today. I figured it was an omen. I dread this class anymore.
     Class had hardly begun, when the usual shenanigans began. "I am going to need you to put your phone away, please." I said to one student.
     "I need to look at the time!"
     "Once again, I would like to direct your attention to  the very large clock on the wall, literally a few feet in front of your face..." I said.
     "I shouldn't have to read one of those old kind of clocks!" she wailed.
     "Can you really not read a clock?"
     "I can read it, but I shouldn't have to read it." she pouted.
     "I can't believe I am hearing this." I mumbled.

     It continued this way for awhile. I am not even sure what finally made me set my teacher's book down in frustration and say "I am not even kidding. I seriously had a dream last night that I had to drink LOTS of alcohol to deal with teaching this class last night!" to their open mouthed shock.
     "You will have to excuse my mother." apologized Joe "She is one of the older style models of moms."
   
     Only eight more classes to go this year. I counted.

     Over dinner tonight, I asked George if he had learned anything in Sunday School today. His First Communion is coming up next month, so I knew they've been working on that in his class.
     "We talked about the "Our Father" prayer." said George. "What does the trespassing part mean, exactly?"
     "Oh! You mean 'Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us'? That part?"
     "Yeah. Because I have done a lot of trespassing in my life, mom."
     "HAHA! No, not, trespassing on other people's property - we'll chat about that later - but, it means kind of like 'forgive us for anything wrong we've done, and help us forgive other people who might have done something wrong to us.' does that make more sense?"
     "About that. I've done a lot of that kind of trespassing too, mom."
   
     I am sure the Good Lord will understand. Meanwhile, super teacher over here, is probably not the best influence on the current Sunday School class, and I am sure I have a lot of explaining to do upon my departure from this world. Not sure if the insanity plea will work. I've been informed by two of my kids this past week "Mom. Sometimes I think you're crazy. The rest of the time though, I know you are." and "You are the cutest little crazy person ever." so, there's that. Possibly it will be taken into consideration.

     On to other things. I was asked to start up another work place health challenge again this year. For the most part, all the participants haven't done a whole lot of participating. In the spirit of things though, yesterday I found an exercise bike on clearance at the grocery store, and brought it home to put it together. The kids have found that "mom putting things together" is the most amazing entertainment in the whole entire world, and they gathered around in eager anticipation to watch the latest installment, while Bearded Man impatiently demanded I step away from the bike and just let him do it. "She is a strong and independent woman!!!!!!" Kaila laughed, but, somehow, while I was looking for hex something or others, bolts and washers, and screwing pedals on with George, Bearded Man managed to put the majority of it together. And then banished it to the bedroom. Where one of his hats was settled onto it. Thus, when I entered my bedroom at bedtime, and was confronted by a large hat wearing object staring at me in the dark, I nearly died of heart failure on the spot, and only remembered the sleeping children after the startled screaming.
     Meanwhile, I am not entirely sure why we keep starting fitness challenges at work. I didn't realize how terrible the willpower is at my office, until I recently had to go to another VA Clinic for the day. I reported back to my regular clinic with "They have a WHOLE three pound box of chocolates in their break room from  CHRISTMAS, that they haven't even opened yet!!!" as my boss sent me pictures of the muffins, pastries and candies that had appeared in our break room that same morning. They were all gone before I was back at my usual clinic the next work day. I can send all the inspirational emails in the world. They are no match for our absolute lack of willpower.

   
    Also of note: Most of the time I have the most easy going kids in the entire world. Except recently.  Lexi had been pretty grouchy lately, and has been in the worst mood ever. Which has thankfully been spent by putting herself in her bedroom and away from her poor siblings, because it does not take much to set her off lately. No one is safe from Lexi's wrath when she is in a bad mood. I discovered the hard way that it is not okay to ask "And, are we a good witch, or a bad witch?" when she walks down the stairs. We will all be relieved when she decides to go back to her usual "Good Witch" status. Which is the most happy go lucky cheerful child ever. Not sure where "Bad Witch" came from but, if she doesn't snap out of it soon, we will all have to start watching for falling houses...

     Disclaimer: I did ask permission to write that last paragraph. "You can keep it. You need it - your blogs have been lacking lately." I was informed by the resident Bad Witch.

     I think that's it for tonight. This Blog has been written in choppy bursts around various interruptions and Lexi is likely not too far off the mark as to the content. Ah well.  Till next time!

When Mama Snaps

     Two days ago, I had my very first root canal. The Endodontist that performed it was an impossibly young and perky woman, who spoke at ten times the speed that most people talk, even for a New Yorker. Things progressed right along, while she chatted away on subjects I had no ability to add input to.
     She remarked that I was "substantially infected" and that she was actually very surprised by the depth of it, but decided against antibiotics, because my body should take care of it for me. Because of the infection, she did what she had to do for now, and instructed me to come back in a few weeks to do it again and finish it up. Making a follow up appointment, I headed home again.
      Because it was Ash Wednesday, and my mouth was still numb, I announced we had to go to church because sometimes, I don't really want to go to hell. If you go to church status post a root canal, it has to count somewhere, right?
     In church, George watched the proceedings with a considering eye. Finally deciding, he turned to me and whispered "Mom. I know what the ashes are made out of."
     "What are they made out of?"
     "Bodies of really bad people." right about then, the numbing in my mouth started to wear off.

     Anyhow, we made it through another foray into church with no lightning strikes, and headed home again.
     Yesterday, I woke up and just knew the recovery was not going to go well. The pain was worse than I had been assured it would be. I made it through work in a daze, and made it home again, completely miserable. Nothing was helping the pain, and I decided that all six of my previous surgeries were a walk in the park compared to mouth pain.
 
     This morning, I woke up and instantly knew my face was not as it should be. Sure enough, I was swollen from right under my eye, down the face, and into the neck. Lovely.
     I had patients I really couldn't reschedule without inconveniencing lots of people, so, I went to  work, figuring I would call the dentist later and ask for an antibiotic to be called in.

     The day began with an email that became a string of emails that set the tone for the entire day. My face became worse, and a fever set in, and I was having a hard time even spelling correctly at this point. I finally had a minute to call the dentist. A receptionist answered the phone and put me on hold. When she picked up, in my nicest warmest voice used for melting even the toughest of my patients because I hate inconveniencing people, I explained the problem.
      'Well, the Doctor isn't here today, so, there's nothing I can do about it."

     "There was a number that she did give me, but, it specifies not to call unless it's after office hours. Are you supposed to call?"

     "I can try, but, it's her day off, so, you will have to wait till she is here on Monday."

     "My face is deformed, and I really don't think this can wait until Monday."

     "Did you put heat and ice on it? Did you even take Ibuprofen?" she demanded like I was an idiot.

     Deep breath. "I have tried all the usual remedies for this sort of thing, and it appears to be worsening. We were aware there was an infection when I was there Wednesday."

     "Fine. I am not making promises, but, give me the name of the pharmacy you want something sent to."

     So, I told her.

      "I need the address and phone number." she huffed. Lovely. So, I googled it and gave her the information, at which she banged down the phone.

     The email chain continued, and I was getting sicker by the minute. The more I saw these emails, the more aggravated I became.

     Then the swelling made opening my eye and swallowing difficult. I called my doctor, and was told there were no openings until next week sometime. A few hours had gone by, and the emails continued, along with a request to travel to Manhattan in the near future to train staff there. "I can't get time to travel two hours away to train people on this side of the state, how am I going to do this??" I wondered in panic, trying to decide how I would handle my patient load and travel at the same time. Already wondering how I will train someone next week who will be coming to my clinic for training while I deal with a full panel of patients for the day at the same time.
     Usually, I can handle everything without even thinking about it. Today was not that day, and a genuine panic was starting.

      Meanwhile, I received a text from Kaila. There is a person on Facebook that makes things up for attention, and whose kids go to my kids' school. Kaila sent me a picture that directly contradicts a recent self righteous Facebook post, and I became even more irritated. "Kaila, I swear to God, if you ever start posting lies on social media for attention, I will beat the hell out of you." I snapped in my feverish and grouchy state. "Well, I suppose I will go to Heaven then, if you're going to beat the hell out of me." came to spunky reply. "Forget it. I will just throw cans of Red Bull at you. It gives you wings and all that." I retorted back. At which I was told I was like a cute angry chipmunk in my swollen grumpy state.

      More irritating emails came, that indicated even more work on my already overfull plate. I sat and looked at it and decided on the spot that I wanted to go back to bartending. So, in a state that should have kept me in bed today, I fired back a response that even surprised my boss.
   
   
     The face situation was getting dire, so I called the dentist office back. "Hi! I don't mean to be a pest, I was just wondering if - " "YOU NEED TO HOLD ON!" And, I was put on hold. Several minutes later someone came on the line "What do you need?" the voice demanded. "Hi! I called earlier to ask about getting an antibiotic called in and - " "YOU NEED TO HOLD." Okay. So, I held for several more minutes. Finally someone picked up again. "YOU were told this morning we would do what we can. The dentist is OFF today, what more do you expect me to do???" Screamed some female on the other end. In shock I paused, and ventured in my best soothing nurse PR voice "Hello! I am so sorry to be a bother, I just wanted to check the status of my earlier call, and see if anyone had been able to -" "I TOLD you, she is OFF! You need to wait until MONDAY! WHAT MORE DO YOU EXPECT ME TO DO???" She screamed in my ear.
     "Okay, I understand that. The dentist had given me her cell number to call, should I call that? I did try to reach my primary care, but there were no appointments - " "LOOK. I don't know what you aren't  understanding here! SHE ISN'T HERE! SHE. WILL. NOT. BE. HERE. UNTIL. MONDAY! She was here earlier and tried calling you, and YOU didn't ANSWER!"
     "No, I have my phone right here. No missed calls..."
      "WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO ABOUT IT??"
     "I just would like to know if she called anything in?"
     "I TOLD you, she isn't HERE!"
      "You just said she WAS there... at this point, this infection is spreading alarmingly and I really -"
     "I don't know what you expect me to do about it?" This girl continued to scream at me. I just snapped. I watched another email pop across my screen and just snapped.

     "YOU LISTEN TO ME. This is the WORST customer service I have EVER had. It is unprofessional to speak to ANYONE, let alone a PATIENT this way. I have been nothing but nice and reasonable, but, getting screamed at is completely unacceptable. I would LIKE you to be CIVIL, because I do NOT appreciate being SCREAMED AT!" I yelled into the phone.

      "Well, if you want to WAIT ten minutes I will try to BOTHER the dentist ON HER DAY OFF, BUT IF IT'S THAT BAD, YOU CAN JUST GO TO THE EMERGENCY ROOM. THIS IS NOT MY PROBLEM! AND I HAVE PATIENTS HERE AND THINGS TO DO!!!!" She screamed at me.

      "I happen to be a NURSE. I also happen to have PATIENTS. And if I EVER spoke to one of them in this manner, I would be FIRED! This is absolutely the WORST treatment I have EVER had from a medical office, and I cannot BELIEVE you are screaming at me."

     "YOU LISTEN TO ME YOU -" She began, in a full rage now

      "NO. YOU Listen to ME. I am NOT continuing this conversation. We are done." and I banged the phone down.

      Scowling at the latest email, I informed the sender what I thought of his email, as my phone rang again. It was the dentist herself.

      Soothingly she told me she had called a prescription in, and invited me to text her in a few days to let her know how things were progressing. I mentioned that whomever I had spoken to had been seriously rude, and was told "I am not there, but maybe they are having a hard day at the office." Sighing, I thanked her for her call, and privately thought that I would be lucky to have a job if I screamed at patients every time I had a bad day. You know, like today. I managed to keep it to two "I am not dealing with this nonsense" emails and did not scream at anyone. Shortly after, I saw I had missed a call from the screaming receptionist, stating she had no idea why I had hung up on her, but that she had had the dentist on the other line while she was talking to me, and that if I had been reasonable, she would have told me the prescription had been called in. At which I swore heartily at my phone and the liar's message. I am sure her ears were ringing.
      I then left early for the day, picked up my prescription and went home.

     I did not scream at the woman who apparently had been parking in my driveway after picking her kid up from school nearly daily, and waiting for my kids to come home, and telling her kid to ask if he can stay at my house and play, but who refuses to speak to my kids. And who doesn't particularly seem to care how her 7 year old gets home in the dark, hours later, some distance away. (We drive him. He's a good kid.) I did make her roll her window down and told her I was in no shape to have extra kids today. She didn't seem happy with me, but, I didn't care. I did feel sorry for her poor son, who she seems eager to pawn off nearly daily. Who DOES that? Just parks at houses waiting for the occupants to come home, and then refuses to talk to them? But, I didn't scream at her.

     Over dinner, Bearded Man told this story about his childhood and a ceramic crock that, by this arm dimensions was approximately 4 feet tall and 3 feet wide. The story continued and I finally said "I need to know where they got a crock that big, how it was cleaned and washed, and where they managed to keep something that big?"
      "You don't believe me?"
      "No. I don't believe you."
      "I am telling you, it was THIS big!"
       Slamming my hands on the table, I shouted "NO! It was NOT! There is no way anyone has a ceramic crock that big!! I am DONE listening to people tell these stories and lies today! I am NOT putting up with it on FACEBOOK, EMAILS, DOCTORS OFFICES, OR MY OWN HOUSE! I CANNOT LISTEN TO THIS TODAY. SERIOUSLY. I. JUST. CAN'T!"

      "Call my brother! He'll tell you we had one!"

      "FOUR FEET ACROSS???"

      "NO! It was about the size of a 55 gallon drum!"

      "THAT IS NOT THE SIZE YOU INDICATED EARLIER. Does EVERYBODY think I'm an idiot?????"

      "Oh my Gosh, you are the cutest little angry chipmunk ever." laughed Kaila
     
      So. Now me and my angry chipmunk face are under a blanket, and I was handed ear buds to listen to music and not have to hear anyone else today. Honest to goodness, I think I am sick and burned out. Maybe this is the push I need to go back to school. I need to think about this when I am fully coherent again.

     The name of this blog indicates I am not a perfect person, and am fully aware of that. I realize I am old enough to not throw tantrums and yell back at people. Maybe it's the recent uptick in watching the general population treat each other badly, as if it's a God given right? Possibly getting treated badly one time too many was just enough of a shove to finally make me lose me normal calm? Maybe it was the fever or the swollen face. Maybe I am just a jerk. Thankfully I have three days off to regroup. So, there. You see that I am not a terribly nice person at all - at least, today, anyway.

You Need to Think Big!

     Written while the housework and laundry pile up around me. Honestly, I am not sure why I continue to keep up with either.

     It was with a sigh of relief that I arrived at Sunday School this past weekend and realized that there is a two week hiatus and I just had to get through this week. Most of my students piled into the classroom, and I braced myself for the usual shenanigans. The kids weren't too bad this week, and, while I hold no illusion anything I taught actually penetrated thru the skulls of even one of those kids, Joe sort of amazed me.
     There is this girl who occasionally wanders into Religious Ed and completely hates every minute of it. Having her cell phone confiscated every week does nothing to improve her opinion of the class. Actual quote this week: "I need to look at the phone, because I wanted to see the time."
      "There is literally a clock hanging on the wall five feet in front of your face."
      "You expect me to tell time on that???"

      Anyway. When this kid does tune in, she doesn't like anything that is being said. With no phone and no one to talk to, she decided to argue whatever I was teaching. She asked a question I did not know the answer to, so, I hauled out one of my reference books, and read the answer to her.
     
     "I still don't understand what you are saying, or why things have to be that way." she pouted. Unfortunately for her, she sits next to Joe every week.
     "That's because you don't think 'Big' " said Joe.

      "What?" She snapped crossly

     "You don't think Big. I mean you want to think what you think, and you don't want to open your mind or your brain and think outside the box. You know; think "Big". You just heard the answer, but, because you didn't like it, you are saying you don't understand. You do understand, you are just refusing to think Big, or outside the box, and learn something that you don't want to, because it's not what you want to think. You will never learn anything if you are not willing to think Big, and think that maybe just because it's something you don't want to hear, that it's not the right thing. No one is going to change everything because you don't like it. So, open your brain and think!"

     My mouth dropped open, as I listened to my kid sum up pretty much the general problem with society in one paragraph. Meanwhile, the girl glared at me and informed me Joe was weird, and to please make him shut up.
   
     Sunday school was just a small part of this past weekend. Lexi turned 14! For her birthday, she wanted money and a trip to her favorite mall near Buffalo. Listening to weather forecasts that were calling for sleet and freezing rain, I took her up early in the day and proceeded to follow her twice around the entire mall. Upper and lower levels. It was exhausting.
       While there, I took care of my once yearly foray into the makeup store. As usual, a very young and perky girl bounced over to me and, with the enthusiasm of a puppy who just found her very best friend, begged me to let her help me. Digging out last year's lipstick tube, I told her I was looking to replace this color, please. At which the poor thing became crestfallen, as, if I had just kicked her and hurt her to the core, and told me that they no longer carried that color. She did stand right there and excitedly help chose new colors though. Two lipsticks and an eye liner later, I was told with no small amount of excitement that I now qualified for three free items. I was dragged all over the small store. "Lotion! You need lotion!" she informed me happily. "No, I'm good. I just bought lotion over at the "Pink" store."
      "Why would you DO that?? That stuff smells like chemicals. It's full of chemicals, too! Are you trying to die???"
      "I will smell good when I go, I suppose. Let's look at something else."
      "Makeup remover!" she bubbled, running over to another corner of the store. "Look! I will spray it here on my arm where we tested your lipstick, and it will come right off!"
      "It doesn't appear to be coming off..." I pointed out.
      "That just shows you how great our lipsticks are! They will last you all day! How about lip conditioner? It get's rid of gunk on your lips!" she said, rubbing it on her arm. "OW! Well. Maybe not. This hurts." she decided, putting it back.
      We managed to find six things, and I escaped the store for another year.

      I do have to say, taking my 14 year old shopping was this side of shocking. Most of the stores we entered featured clothes that were not particularly decent. Short shorts, half shirts, half sweaters, and skin tight everything seemed to be the general trend. My daughter walked into and then right out of most stores. If the clothing wasn't indecent, it was pre-torn. It seemed as if the current look is somewhere between the "can't afford nice things" and the "Most likely to post pictures of myself on social media that my mother can never ever be allowed to see."

     Update on the dishwasher situation: It is now sitting on the front porch. If it isn't gone by Saturday, I have decided to take it to the local dump myself and be done with it.
      Update on Kaila's car: it's still sitting dead in front of the house. However, she starts her first non babysitting job on Thursday, and is hopeful she will be able to fix or replace her car in the near future. Which would be a good thing, because, she will be taking my van on the nights she works, and I will be effectively without transportation on those days. I may as well get used to it. Lexi and Joe aren't terribly far behind the driving age.

     Kaila decided she needed to get serious about a job shortly after I had her in a bar recently by accident.

      One of my brothers also sings and plays guitar. He does a lot of "open mic" nights, and has been asking me to come to one forever now. Recently I agreed to make the hour long drive to open mic to see him, and, per his instructions, brought Kaila along with me, as, she's a singer too.
      We arrived at a very small brewery/bar that was packed shoulder to shoulder. Hauling Kaila thru the crowd, we found my brother by the bar. "I'm the last singer, so, it's going to be a few hours" he shouted over the noise, and, wincing that it was a school/work night, and, that I had my kid in a packed bar, we settled in to wait. My brother mentioned maybe selling his beautifully babied and maintained SUV to Kaila, (who is dead broke) and Kaila decided on the spot that she needed to step up the job game and get either fix or replace her car. The night wrapped up with Kaila getting up to open mic and belting out a One Republic song. With a crowd of drunk people, and no one filming her, she figured no one would remember much anyhow, and really loosened up and rocked the song right out. On the way home, she told me she wants to do open mic again. And, that she couldn't wait to go to school and tell her friends that her crazy mother had her out late singing in a bar.
      I didn't get a call from the school asking me to explain myself, so, she presumably didn't announce it too loudly. She was perfectly safe the entire time, and surrounded by my brother, his girl friend and myself. Memories and stuff.

      That's about it. Tomorrow is root canal day. I kept sneezing today at work, and, when a coworker remarked upon it, I thoughtlessly said "Wonder what happens if you sneeze mid-root canal?" at which we both stopped in horror thinking about the possibilities. And now, it's pretty much all I can think about in regards to the root canal. I don't imagine it would kill me, but, I do think it could make things a little more interesting. Wish me luck!

   

       

Therapy Brownies

     I am going to knock this one out quick while the "Therapy Brownies" cool.

     Every year at this time, according to my social media memories, I get sick. Not the cute "curl up in coordinating jammies on the couch delicately dabbing my nose with a tissue while sipping tea" sick. I mean, the "OhMyGodIAmGoingToDieAnyMinuteNow Nothing cute or loveable about it sick, sick.
      This year, I have the added bonus of a tooth that keeps infecting, as well as a "stress ulcer" on my gum that was huge, and, according to the dentist: "Wow! People get those when they are really stressed in life! What is going on??!!!" "Oh, you know. Stuff."

     Anyhow. My root canal is scheduled for Valentines Day. And, I nicely scheduled it for afternoon, so I could work half day and then drive an hour and a half to the dentist, so as to not inconvenience lots of people. Because I am an idiot.

     Anyhow, it must have all caught up, because, even after ten hours of sleep last night, I found myself getting unreasonably irritated at an email signature that was ridiculously, pompously long today. It even included the email address of the email sender in the email signature.
     It wasn't even from anyone of any significant position.
     The more I looked at that email, the more irritated I became. I realized I should probably walk away from my desk, because I was obviously in need of a breather, and that these are not things anyone has any business getting that worked up about.

     I would have come home and poured a Therapy Drink, but, Wednesdays are also "GI/Liver Doctor" day, and, I spent all morning with patients that were largely sitting in my office because of too much therapy drinking.

     The kids came home from swim night at the school, and commented that the house smelled delicious.  I explained it was Therapy Brownies. It seems they all had reasons to need Therapy Brownies too.

     "I have to sit with a 7th grader at lunch, who eats paper. Including his homework."

     "The High School Principal came to our class today, and, since too many kids have been out of school for whatever reasons: we have been told we can only be out three days between now and June 6th, or, we will not be allowed to go to the Prom or Jr./Sr. Banquet." (Just what I want to hear from my daughter with the chronic health issues...)

     "There was a bunch of girls from Lexi's class who kept picking on me today."

     "I just like chocolate."

     So. Super Mom here is being a terrific example, and, we are all going to drown our stress in Therapy Brownies tonight.

     The "up" side of being sick, was, I did get a break from Sunday School this week! With no voice and a cough that began in my toes, I had to send in the Bearded Man to deal with it. Everyone survived, I am told. But, he was so exhausted that he came home and slept all afternoon.

     Which brings me to the dishwasher.

     Recently, a friend of mine was re-modeling her kitchen, and selling all her appliances. I asked her if she planned on replacing her dishwasher as well, but she had already given it to her mother. She did let me know of someone else who was getting rid of a dishwasher, so we decided to go take a look. Honestly, I have four dishwashers, but, every so often I think about getting a working dish washing appliance that I haven't given birth to, and which would get the job done without me personally being responsible for the entire village of Franklinville's yearly employee bonuses because of my water bill.
     Approximately 4 weeks ago, we went and got the dishwasher. We hauled it home and before even thinking about installing it, realized it had issues. So, there was no point in replacing the non working dishwasher with an updated version of a non working dishwasher.
     It's been nearly four weeks, and that dishwasher is still sitting in the kitchen. Bearded Man has sworn he will take it to a guy he knows, who accepts these things as scrap, but, whenever there is time, Bearded Man sees the "nagging glint" start to shine in my eyes, and manages to need to be elsewhere.
     So. I threw a table cloth on it, and decorated it with a plant, a tea pot and a pumpkin from October that hasn't died yet. Bearded Man ignored this. Yesterday, I cut out all different colored hearts and we decorated it for Valentine's Day. Which has also been ignored. I figure I will eventually have to fold down the seats in my van and just take it to the local dump and be done with it. I can't deal with this thing in my already too small kitchen. Or, I will decorate it for St. Patrick's Day next. It could go either way at this point. Which is just another reason to consume Therapy Brownies.

     Around here, we are all pretty much sick of the snow. I am of the firm belief that, the only time feet should be wet is when they are in the shower, walking thru the surf of the beach, or, willingly during the summer when watering flowers or dangling them into the local town pool. Anything else isn't tolerable, really. That being said, we all slopped our feet to work and school today and lived through it, but, the snow is just anther reason for therapy brownies. Even George is wishing for green things to grow again.

     Hopefully Springtime will arrive sooner rather than later, and we can spend more time outdoors and on the porch. Which is even nicer than therapy brownies!

   

Blog From Home

     I finally broke down and bought myself a laptop for home use. I've been unable to update my blog at work - partly because I am entirely too busy to take a break, let alone type a blog, and, partly because I no longer have access to write or post them anymore at work.
     I walked into the mall on a mission today. I was determined to buy a laptop, and a purse.
     It took me approximately 15 minutes to  annoy a very young man and purchase a laptop after grilling him with questions he didn't seem to find to be relevant. He sort of reminded me of Joe, except this guy has to stifle his overpowering urge to tell people they are idiots, or he will get fired, and Joe has no such filter. I deposited the laptop into the van, and headed back in on a purse mission that took over an hour. I am still not entirely convinced that I like the purse I ended up with.
      Not sure that finding the purchase of a purse more traumatic than the purchase of a laptop says much about my ability to look or be terribly put together in public, but, I suppose it will serve it's purpose either way.

     So what's been going on since before the Holidays? I don't even know. It all seems to be mostly a blur, truthfully. Shortly before Christmas, Kaila passed her road test! She had put lots of money into her car, and, on New Years Eve, approximately 24 hours after she had it on the road in running condition, it died on the side of the road. While we wait to get it fixed again, she has mostly driven my van when she needs to go someplace. We had to have a discussion regarding the difference between calling it "THE van" and "YOUR Van" as in she may call it "THE van" when she begins to contribute to the payment of "The Van" as well as fuel and maintenance. Otherwise, it needs to be referred to as "Your van" as in, "May I borrow YOUR van". At which she  nicely told me that the same may also be said for my constant use of her phone charger. Which triggered the reply that her charger is connected to my electric. Anyhow. Kaila is driving now. It is frankly terrifying, to watch your kid drive away alone.

     Joe and I were both home sick the other day. Sitting and listening to Joe talk is never dull. I discovered that the Jr/Sr high school has recently blocked access to You Tube for the 7th grade. Joe had figured out ways around all blocks by the end of the school day.
     Joe, who has always planned to be a Scientist, has joined the "Youth Court" at school. Youth Court is where school kids form a full court, including judge, defense, prosecution and jury, for real cases involving other kids in our county. Joe appears to have memorized most of the law book they were given, and is able to recite laws for various offenses without even thinking about it. Should that kid ever change career goals, and head into law, I imagine he will be a brilliant attorney.

     One week ago, we celebrated keeping George alive for eight years! For the rest of my kids, we celebrate birthdays as birthdays. For George, we celebrate keeping him in one piece for another year. George spends as much time as possible outdoors, but, he is still cooped up more than either he or the rest of us are happy with during these winter months. Shout out here to the neighbors across the street who gifted us with their Wii recently. It has managed to keep George active and occupied when he gets sick of remote control cards, nerf guns and legos. Seriously. I am still trying to think of an appropriate way to thank the neighbors, that would somehow convey how handy that Wii has been for cooped up kids. I am overall anti electronics and video games in my household, but, this Wii has been a Godsend.

   

   I am finding that, writing this blog at home has garnered sudden input from my children. Joe has mentioned that I could write about how wonderful they are, but, then he thought about it and decided it wasn't nice to lie. Lexi is currently playing sad music because I am clearly writing about her last, so this must mean I like her least. That being said, before they began to interrupt with Blog content suggestions, I was getting ready to mention that Lexi is on what she calls the "Nerd Squad" at school, with three other kids from her grade. Next weekend they will compete with other schools in some sort of trivia competition? Honestly, I am not even entirely sure what it's about, because, Lexi hasn't talked about it nearly as much as her flute solo for solo fest tomorrow. I might learn more about Nerd Squad after the flute solo trauma settles down tomorrow. She is currently a complete mess over the flute solo and subsequent grade.

     I think maybe sorcerers moved in next door. Our old neighbors moved out for good last week, and a few days later, we noticed that the house seemed to be occupied again. There were no signs of any moving in. No trucks, trailers, people, movers, vans. Just, suddenly lights were on, and the kids mentioned that there are two new dogs outside sometimes. Anyone that can move in with no signs of moving in are obviously sorcerers, so, I decided we should probably get on their good side, because, not only would it be handy to be on the good side of magic, but, it would probably not be terribly good NOT being on the good side of the next door sorcerers. I am not entirely sure how one goes about befriending such entities, but, I am sure we'll figure it out somehow.

     I haven't been to my sister's salon since before Christmas. When last I entered her lair, she informed me that she hated my hair and my hair color, and it was all wrong, and was going to be changed completely. I left with a sort of red/purple look that I really loved. I have found that it has faded enough to have a very spring like pink and lavender hue to it under the florescent lights that I spend most of my work days in. So, it has worked for two seasons! She is nothing short of brilliant. As we were wrapping things up last time around, a woman came in for a haircut.

     "So?! How is she? How is the baby??" My sister asked as soon as the woman walked in.

     "She's at the hospital now, finding out."

      "Crazy that she didn't know she was pregnant for five months!"

     "I know!"

     "Is, you know, her husband the, you know, father?"

     "Yep! Definitely."

     "And, the baby is okay?"

     "I know she is! The spirits told me. I was talking to them last night."

     "Oh! And things were good, then?"

     "The spirits were with the baby when I was talking to them. They said she is fine. And that it's a girl. And, I know they were right, because even the doctors agreed that they are fifty percent sure it's a girl too!"

     "Awww! a GIRL! I bet they are so excited about that!"

     "I think so! They are at the doctor's now making sure everything is okay, and confirming that it really is a girl, but, I already heard all that from the spirits, so, they are pretty much just confirming it all."

      I never did hear if the spirits were right, because I had to leave then. I should probably ask my sister for an update.

     Update on Sunday School. It's pretty much the same. The one other teacher who is the nicest, sweetest and probably one of the most genuine and beautiful people I know, continues to smile kindly at me, even though I always seem to be at my absolute worst around her. Things worked out with that student months ago, who was having anxiety about moving up and into my class. That student seems okay now, and, I think is mostly fascinated enough by the insanity of my teaching style that she stays to see what will happen next.
     Last Sunday, however, I managed to be a monster again. Joe had been having headaches the few days before Sunday. Sunday morning, he seemed fine, so, we headed off to church. Upon arrival, he announced he was going to be an Alter Boy this week, and headed off to get ready. I am not sure when I began to notice Joe on the alter, but, I was positive he was going to be sick. Once I began to notice, I couldn't stop watching his apparent distress. He made it through church, and we all headed down to Sunday School. The nice teacher noted Joe wasn't looking too well, because, Joe was loudly announcing he didn't feel good, and his head was hurting again. (He inherited the migraine gene from my side of the family, unfortunately...) Anyhow, Nice teacher smiled kindly and told me Joe wasn't feeling too well, and I was distracted, and said "He's not going to die." which is my standard phrase for pretty much all ailments in my household, stolen directly from a GI doctor that I work with every Wednesday morning. Nice teacher was suitably horrified, and I closed my eyes in resignation that my monster status was still intact. I ushered my students into the music room, and excused Joe and his migraine from music this week. Upon re-entering my classroom a short time later, I found Joe with his head on the table and a message on the white board reading "Please be quiet because Joe has a migraine".
     Once we were home, he took Tylenol, rehydrated, and was just fine. I left to go grocery shopping once he seemed stable, and, lo and behold, there was the nice teacher at the grocery store. I marveled how she managed to do her shopping in high heeled boots, especially having been on her feet in those boots for the last two hours, and thought about approaching her to let her know Joe had decided to remain with the living, but, I just knew I would make it all worse once I opened my mouth, so, I didn't.

     There's your updates for the last month that I was Blog-less. Hopefully I will be better able to keep up again! I'm finding it's harder to write this blog at home, than it is during the relative peace of occasional breaks at work!