Goodbyes

     So many Goodbyes lately! To Summer, To my kids, going back to school, to my job and my friends at the Buffalo VA, to the husband of a friend, who passed away. Too many goodbyes! It is sort of like that feeling you get, after finishing a really really good book. A book that was so engrossing, that you couldn't put it down. The book you stay up late for, and read through lunch breaks, because it is not possible to NOT read it, because you HAVE to see what happens next.
     And then, suddenly, it's over. It is done. It is finished. And here you are, all bare and lonely, and sort of lost, not sure quite how normal life is supposed to resume, and why can't anyone see that this enormous trauma has taken place, and life has continued on around you, completely regardless of it. And deep down, you know that there will be other books, and everything will be okay, and there are all these other books, lives, possibilities to explore. But, still. It will never be THIS book, and, you can never really re-read it. Because it's not the same.

     That about sums up my life over the last week or so. Everything has changed. Change is good, right? (Says the woman who has rearranged her living room furniture only once in the last almost 11 years. And that was strictly because new furniture was coming, and the old arrangement wouldn't accommodate it.) Change is not always embraced by everyone, okay?

     The changes began, when I had to take my kids back to school. I hate it when my kids are in school. Truly hate it. I LIKE when my kids are around. (Usually.) And I deeply dislike having to keep track of homework, lunch boxes, backpacks, library books, shoes,  socks, schedules, fundraisers, extracurricular activities, and the thought that now, due to the new schedule, my kids are going to have to walk home from school in bad weather. And be stuck in school in the good weather. There really is no pleasing me. They were thrilled to go back. I see more work. (Every single teacher I know is now gritting their teeth, and vowing to never read this atrocious Blog again. It's nothing against the teachers; my kids have been blessed with lots of amazing teachers over the years! I just like having my kids at home. This is all irrational Mama talking.)
     I walked my kids into school last week, and actually choked back tears for the first time ever. Sending them to school has never been traumatic for me.  My youngest and last child, I will be all weepy, but, usually I march them into school, deposit them at their classrooms, kiss them good bye, and go out to breakfast. This year, with so many changes all at once, and a Summer that really never happened, I felt like I had let them down. We were just too busy to have a lot of fun. It was very much a busy, working summer, and days out were a special treat. And my amazing kids took it like champs. And were totally ready to go back to school.  I marched them in as usual, vowing to book a Summer vacation while there is still snow on the ground next spring.

     During this, a good friend of mine lost her husband, still in his 30's, to cancer. Leaving her and her baby daughter with no husband and daddy. It was a loss felt all over town, as they were a much loved couple. And, once again, I watched an entire town rally together, to support one of it's own. This is one of the perks of living in such a rural area, and watching people come together when needed. It's amazing to behold. A tragic goodbye, but a heart warming turn out of support and love. I just don't think you find that in large areas.
     Sometimes, living in a small town is mind bogglingly frustrating, as, rumors and stories run rampant. But, the benefits outweigh the negatives overall.

     A few days ago, I also said goodbye to my job in Buffalo. I arrived at work, and watched the sun rising over the city skyline for the last time, and thought about the beautiful view, one thing among many, that I will miss.
     The amazing people that I worked with, and who taught me so much. The people that I worked with were always happy to step in and help, or let anyone who needed to, tag along and watch and learn. Several of my co-workers have also moved on to different positions, some within the VA system, and some outside of it. But all of them made such a huge difference.
     And, too, I know almost for certain, that the plants in the break room will likely die from neglect now. A person can only adopt so many plants though, so, those poor scraggly things had a good run, and made a heroic attempt to survive, surrounded by all these people dedicated to helping things survive, but, I suspect that run is just about over for the poor break room plants.

     In the middle of all the good byes, I am saying Hello to the new job, however, and trying to learn as much as possible. I know for certain, however, that, the very day that I am left alone and to my own devices, things will probably go horribly wrong, and I will have absolutely no idea what to do. because, that's what usually happens, whenever it can. I have every confidence, however, that I will figure things out quickly, and be able to handle it all one way or another. Or, at least bluff my way through it, until I do know what I am doing.  And, with a new job, comes new people, and one old friend, my car pool buddy from my Buffalo days, who is also now working at the same place! Who happens to live right around the corner from me! So, there is that, too. Silver Linings and all that.

     So. Here's to the thought that life is sort of like a book. Here's to the ending of one chapter, and the beginning of another. With that thought, it's sort of like new beginnings and I feel like I should make a resolution, with all these blank pages ahead of me. And, I did! I resolved that, beginning this morning, I would start getting up ultra early, to start working out for the Mudderella! And, shortly before the alarm went off, I shut it off and went back to sleep.With the thought that, I have never ever been able to exercise early in the morning. There was a few months, shortly after George was born, that I would go walking with a friend. And, I remember not feeling a whole lot better after that. No refreshing brisk morning walk with that afterward rush here! No. I could always happily wander back to bed immediately after. So, this morning I decided it would be better for me to try and work out after work. Which, I imagine will be next to impossible, surrounded by all the kids. I am sure that I will have an even better excuse tomorrow. The possibilities are endless. I am still, however, determined to do this Mudderella, and to do the whole work out thing. We'll have to let you know the progress on that next time. I can do this, right? And, the stress relief of all this exercise will probably help  with all the changes tremendously. So, till next time!
    
    

Day Out With the Dicks

     Guess what? I have a some weekend time off lately! Mostly because I was on vacation for almost 2 weeks (most of which I worked, but still...). In the spirit of things, we decided to take the kids and do "Fun Family Things"! It was a pretty low key summer, mostly spent at home, due to schedules and house stuff that needed to be done. Time to have a little fun, right?

     It was decided after intense debate, (And myself vehemently voting down the beach. It may take awhile before I can make myself go back to that sizzling hell again...) to try out mini golf and then hike Rock City Park, a family favorite.

     "Kids!" I call out cheerily from the front seat of my vehicle, "Your challenge today, is to try and eat healthy!" This on the heels of the realization that I have only 9 months to train for the Mudderella. I can only carry a mental plan and lots of research as to the best ways to train, for so long. Eventually, I will have to get a little more proactive. Evening walks, and going on active family outings have really helped with a kick start in that area. Thus the active plans we had for our Big Day Out yesterday. This announcement was met with "Yay! Okay Mom!" and all sorts of enthusiasm at the time.
     We reached our first stop about half an hour later. And the begging for pizza began. It was with resignation that I realize that my children are convinced their mother is an alcoholic, as they tried to get me to order pizza, while telling me that it goes well with alcohol. Nice.
     We ended up with McDonald's. I probably could have taken on the 5 begging people, and insisted on a healthy trip to the grocery store, but, sometimes you need to pick the battles. Why start off the trip with 5 sulking people? So, to McDonald's we went.

     On to the Mini Golf place. After paying for a round of golf for the 6 of us, we meandered out to the golf course. Where a very large group of people were stationed indefinitely at the first hole. And they stayed. And stayed. And stayed. It was suggested by Bearded Man that we begin at the end. Which was happily agreed to, and the entire family began to smack balls all over the course. Into sand traps, parking lots, water traps, bouncing them off of sidewalls, decorations, and eventually into holes. It was a complete Redneck Golf Convention. I realized we had very little control of the situation. 4 kids of different abilities, scattered all over the golf course, whacking balls everywhere, and the dawning of thought that we were running the wrong way, as people were coming toward us in the proper order. The boys were dropping their golf balls into the water, to attempt to fish them out again, and George, who had new shoes that didn't fit properly, kept falling over. Que the tears, as people looked on at the awesome parents, not even looking up from their golf balls, calling out "You're fine, George! Get up and walk it off!" "Come on, Soapy! Get up!" Kaila would yell. "Soapy?" I ask, "Yes. Because he keeps slipping. Like soap..." Good Lord. PLEASE don't let that name stick.
     Toward the end of the golf game, I look up, as I hear a man yell "Why? WHY??!!!" In complete frustration, and see George catch the man's golf ball, as it rolled toward the hole, and run off with it, throwing it into a water pond. It seems the guy's golf ball was the same color as George's, and George thought he was throwing his own ball into the water. So, with apologies, we fished it out.
     I'm sure we will never see any of those people again, thank goodness. It was a pretty unorganized trip. But, we were only half way done. On to Rock City Park

     Rock City Park is this amazing place that, at the top, looks out almost forever, over the most beautiful views, as you stand on top of boulders that are 80+ feet tall. (If I remember the one sign right. Could be off give or take a foot..) After walking down a steep iron stairway, you end up in this magical place that meanders thru the rock formations, and gives quite a nice little hike of about a mile. Shortly into the hike, Joe, who, as self appointed leader, due to his Cub Scout status, and therefore more knowledge and training than the rest of us, led us down the wrong path. Which ended up with us going backwards - twice in one day!- through the entire park. Upon finding out that Joe had mixed us all up, George chimed in "Joe. You got us lost. Now you can stay lost. We are leaving without you. Good bye." A statement that was not met well by Joe.

    After the park, with the entire family dirty, grimy and sweaty, decided to run to Wal Mart, to get George some new shoes. The other new shoes just weren't the best fit. Of course I ran into lots of people I knew... And, of course I had "Wal Mart People Hair", which, I am sure, only hastens the inevitable posting of my pic on the 'People of Wal Mart' site eventually.

  One of the conversations throughout the day, involved my Mudderella Training.

     "Hon. You should fill my backpack up with heavy stuff, and go hiking through the woods during hunting season! Just go get your hunting license!"

     "WHAT? Why the heck would you hand me your camo backpack, and send me into the woods during hunting season?!"

     "You can wear orange."

     "There are soooo many other places I could go hike. Why the woods during hunting season?!"

     'Fine. You could always ride your bike up Case Lake Hill, and then over and down East Hill Road."

     "You did that a few years ago, and almost died, coming down that hill, Jasin."

     "I think my brakes were broken."

     "No. They were not. It is a very long (miles) hill, and you almost lost control and died."

     "You should try it!"

     "KIDS! I want it known RIGHT THIS MINUTE, that if Daddy and I go anywhere alone together, and I do not come back, or don't come back in one piece, you are to all be suspicious, and call authorities!"

     "Okay, Mom" they all agreed readily.

     At the end of the day, it was nice to come  home.... we made it home right before a thunderstorm swept through the area. The timing was perfect. And, I am sure society as a whole, was happy to see us off the public streets.....

    

The Chaos Continues

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

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

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

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

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

     "Of course she is nice!"

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

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

     "What if she doesn't like me?"

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

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

     Have a great holiday weekend!
    

A Market for Roadkill.

     Last Sunday, we had the completely brilliant and inspired idea, that it would be FUN, to take the kids to church, followed by Jasin's Family picnic, followed by the Erie County Fair, (a Fair that is so big, that we have never ever dared take the children there before, because, before last Sunday, we obviously had brains.) followed by grocery shopping, followed by work first thing Monday morning.

     While at the Fair, Bearded Man took the kids through the Conservation building, while I wandered out to watch three young men hurtle themselves off of a platform and onto a small trampoline, while doing dangerous things that has probably caused no end cardiac issues for their poor mother, and they will probably have to go to hell for such thoughtless torture.
     Two of my offspring came running out of the Conservation building all excited and waving something. It seems that the Conservation people were giving away small pieces of fur to small children who matched animal parts correctly, or some such thing. And, I swear, all I could think, was that someone, someplace, was driving along the road, zoned out and listening to Country music, and noting all the road kill, and had a light bulb moment of inspiration, to put it to use. Waste not, want not, and all that. He probably had a beard, too.

     Since it's been awhile since I have been able to update this, I imagine something of note must have happened over the last few weeks. For instance, George has done a little investigating at church. And loudly announced the results very loudly in the middle of a quiet part during Mass: "See, Mom? I checked under the bench, since I was being bad, and, there are no monsters here, like you said there were!" followed by a rousing rendition of " 'Ol Red", the popular Blake Sheldon tune.
    
     My days at the Buffalo VA are winding down, faster than I want them to. Which means that I will no longer be part of the Peacock saga every night, on my drive home.
     As long as I can remember, there has been this place on Rt 16, that has had peacocks. Since I have started working in Buffalo, there has been a white peacock, that usually has the full fan open in all it's glory, on my way home from work.
     One night, I finally stopped, to get a better look. And I still cannot decide which I feel sorrier for. I think about it all the time, and I can see it from both sides. Because, there, in the corner, was this poor peahen, simply trying to do her thing, and peck at the ground or whatever it is they do, and there, hovering over her, was this giant peacock with the tail open and curving toward her. And he looked so desperate, as she ignored him. And this happens every night. He harasses her; she ignores him. It's pitiful. She just wants to be left alone, and he just wants to be noticed. Were they humans, there would totally be lots of dramatic Facebook statuses, and a restraining order. Probably some medications, and maybe some alcohol. It will probably never ever end. How exhausting.
    
  While completely sad about leaving the hospital, I have started to train at the new position. And am pleased to report, that there is a water cooler that has hot water. The fact that there can be tea is highly encouraging. I can deal with just about anything, with a decent cup of tea. There is a serious lack of accessible chocolate, but, I need to start training for the Mudderella, anyhow.

     Ah, the Mudderella. It came up on my Facebook, as a suggested page. After clicking on it, I decided that, 5-7 miles through mud and obstacles sounded fun. Seriously. Where the hell are my brains lately? So, I had the brilliant idea, that, before I could talk myself out of it, I should start a team. Beginning with my little sister. Then some girls I work with. And now, I am committed, and need to start training, because, less than 10 months is probably enough to make sure I will live through it, but probably not excel at it. And, if my old next door neighbor could run races while pregnant, and still look like a model, then, I can do this, too. (Seriously, the old next door neighbors were privately called "The Perfect People". They were quiet, and had model children, and all ate healthy, and looked healthy, and their gardens were perfect, and house was perfect, and I swear, it was like living next to a Disney story. If they weren't so darn nice, they would have been awful. If the people next door were a Disney story, then, that kinda made me one of the evil villains. Or, at least one of the inconsequential villagers, filled in with sub-par details, to make the back round up for fillers. Anyhow, they moved, and, in looking at their Facebook statuses, it looks like the fairy tale continues. I imagine woodland creatures follow them around their new country home.) Perfect neighbors aside, I have decided in a moment of insanity, that I need to get fit, and I need to commit to this, and I need to take others with me. (it's sort of a requirement, actually. If you don't show up with a partner, then you go stand over by a group of pitiful partner-less people, and buddy up with them. There could probably be an entire series of Blogs about that sort of social trauma.) And, since I now have the pressure of all these people expecting me to do more than cheer on the sidelines, while drinking Pepsi doctored with Captain Morgan, I have to get at it. I even bought a book about getting fit. And read it over TWIX bars. Because, I am all about baby steps. I signed up. I bought a book. I created a team. See? Progress! I have decided that I will start with my new job in Olean. Get up early, do the whole run/walk/bend over dry heaving and wheezing while neighborhood dogs bark at me, till their angry recently awoken owners yell at them, and curse at me. I have this whole plan. See? Another step.
     But then it will snow. And it will just be too awful to go for a nice relaxing run. So, maybe I should just wait till March, and give myself a solid 2 months to train. See? A backup plan! We will see how this goes. I honestly would like to give it a try.

     In other news, the Mormons have not come to scrape anything yet. It's back on the list of things to nag Bearded Man about. I think, judging by all the lumber in my driveway, that he must be a mis-placed logger. Sometimes he rearranges the wood piles, to make it look like he's making progress on the shed. It has a floor, and the skeleton of one wall up. But, he thinks maybe he needs a power air gun, to do the job properly now. It's okay though. Once this shed goes up, I have noticed that it is directly next to my lone kitchen window. My view will be a shed, and the neighbor's garage. I will take the natural light while I can get it. Someone suggested maybe hanging pleasant scenery pictures in the kitchen window, and back lighing them. This has possibilities. I could go anywhere, really. It could be educational for the children. We could spotlight different countries and cultures and landmarks, and learn all about them. It will improve their grades, IQ's, knowledge and culture awareness. I think I should buy Bearded Man an air gun. For the Children's sake.

     My truck and I are back on speaking terms. I recently spent an entire afternoon scrubbing it, vacuuming it, cleaning it, and shining it. When I was quite finished, I hooked the controls back up to the window, and Saints be Praised! THEY WORKED! As did the electrical system again. Obviously my truck is speaking to me again. I have decided it no longer needs to be shoved into a large body of water. Or set afire. Or replaced.

     Also of note, is that I have put up, to the tune of a lot of criticism, my fall decorations. Hear me out, people. First of all, reality check. It's cold out. The leaves are falling. The days are speeding up toward back to school, and I have yet to purchase so much as a pencil. Which will be followed by the panic of Christmas, which will feel like it's next week. So, I decided, since I had a day off, ambition, and burned out twinkle lights in my living room that needed to be changed (It is NOT acceptable to my psyche to have those lights in non working order.) it was time to just pull out my stuff and put it up while I was at it. And now it looks nice, and I don't have to deal with it later. Because, eventually my second job for weekends will kick in, and my spare time will consist of week day evenings. So. Fall stuff up, lights back to working, psyche intact, plans to exercise made, I am happy. Which means everyone in my household is happy. Criticize if you need to; but it may be the difference between George seeing the light of day, or basement time with the clowns....
    
    
    

Drug Testing

     Yesterday, I had to go get a drug test for one of the side jobs. I confuse myself sometimes, trying to keep track of these jobs and all the stuff that goes along with obtaining them, and where/when they are all located. I find, that if I don't think about it too hard, it is not hard to keep track. But if I actively try to keep track of it all, it gets confusing. So, like a complete flake, I float through it all, because if I think about it, I will need medication. Lots of it, I imagine.

      So, off I drive, WITH NO KIDS!!!!!! (Which immediately felt like a treat. There are probably other moms out there who would consider a child-less drug testing a mini vacation as well.) I encounter a very nice technician, who is very pleasant, until she asks me if I have ever had a drug test before. Without even THINKING about it, I announce "Oh yes! I've had lots of them!" Which does not convey 'Yes, I have been tested before, for various jobs, as I am in Nursing, and we tend to get tested at the start of every job, and then randomly, and I am completely on the up and up, and not some crazed druggie who is going to steal your family's pain medications, to feed my addiction.' No, this completely conveyed that 'Oh yeah, all my baby daddies insist that I get tested regularly, and stay on the wagon, or I am one test away from losing my child support and government benefits'. Vacation over. This lady was probably checking me for needle marks. It was something of a relief, to leave that particular vacation.

     On the 'Up' side, the lab was situated right off the driveway to Lowe's, so, since I was alone and childless, went in to check paint samples. And here, is where I am going directly to hell. Let's veer off course for a minute, as I explain about the Mormons.

     There are these very nice Mormon boys who wander over to the house every so often. I have very dear friends who are Mormon, so, I always talk to these boys, as they are friends of my friends. With the absolute clarification that I will stay Catholic, and they can stay Mormon, and we can all co-exist happily doing what we do. So, they kind of visit, I try to keep George from tormenting them too much, and then they go on their way.
     This past weekend, our Mormon friend's son was married, and we went to the wedding. Eric (The groom) had babysat for us, before going off to the Air Force, and we were all happy to see him home again, before he and his new wife head to Little Rock to live with the Air Force. And, while sitting there, the Mormon boys that visit wandered to our table. They inquired when it would be a good time to come over and visit, and I let them know that I will be working most of the time, so I really won't be home much. At which they asked what they could possibly do to make life easier for me. "What can we do?" They asked, "We are here to HELP people, and do stuff, and it's part of our mission!" They kept asking, and finally, without even thinking, I just burst out, "Well, the house needs scraped!" OMG. I am so going to hell. I immediately tried to retract that statement, as Bearded Man tried not to kick me under the table. I felt AWFUL. I cannot have these poor guys scraping my house! I feel like I would have to turn Mormon, to pay them back, and, while I LIKE my Mormon friends, I like being Catholic, and seriously, these are the types of things that land people in hell. If the sound of scraping did not sound like nails on a chalk board to me, I would have done it myself. (I tried, and it was bad. George tried, and announced he is still a kid, and doesn't have to do it yet.) Bearded man did enough scraping to make the house look haunted, announced it hurt his eyes to scrape when the sun was shining on the house (I did point out that there are 3 other sides, but, it didn't seem to make a difference.) Bearded man has announced he might need a power pressure washer and a heat gun, and that maybe it will get done next year. He has decided to build a shed, in the meantime. So, the driveway is full of assorted lumber. And fix tractors too, so, there is usually a tractor in the driveway, too. I tend to get severe angina now, when I look at my house. So, here I was, at the wedding, I have two guys begging me to put them to work, and I announced my house needs scraping. Now I wish I would have just bought some aspirin for the angina. What kind of person uses a missionary to scrape their house?!
     They took my number, and said they would think about getting a group of 4 of them together some weekend, to come over and help scrape the house.
     Thus, I ended up at Lowe's, to scope out more paint samples, on the off chance the Mormons show up. I think, that if I have to go to hell over house scraping, that I am going to have to be honor bound to haunt it some day.
    
     Since I am not in hell yet, life goes on. I recently had 6 days on a row off, and tried to enjoy them before all the crazy jobs kick in. We picked lots of blueberries, lots of peas, and lots of raspberries. It took awhile, but we shelled 11.5# of peas, and all of this is sitting in my freezer. I want to do a bushel of peaches, too. As soon as I get the freezer stocked, I imagine we will have a massive power outage. That's just the way things happen around here.
    
     While off, I finally made it to the Science Museum to go see the Body World Vital exhibit. For those of you that don't know what that is; it is actual bodies and organs plasticized, and then put on display, to show the various systems/organs/etc. Either you think it's the coolest thing ever, or, you think it's creepy, and wonder what the hell is wrong with people. I tend to think it's cool.
     When we arrived at the museum, the deal was, I would go thru the exhibit, while Bearded Man took the kids around the rest of the museum. We have a membership there, so the kids always know where they want to go, and what they want to see. Lexi decided last minute that she wanted to go thru the Body World thing with me. I hesitated, but, she really insisted, so, I agreed to take her thru.
     I cringed a little, because, the first thing we saw when entering, were plaster molds of male and female bodies, with not a whole lot left to the imagination. I had completely forgotten that these displays were certainly not clothed. Naked dead people everywhere. Oh dear. It was okay though, as Lexi seemed to roll with it, and I was able to completely narrate everything, and she had the most amazing anatomy lesson ever.

     Over here, you see the nerves. If you look, you can see how they are connected to the spine....
 
     Look at the spine, you can see where it forms a bowl for the brain...

     Here is the brain, and what it looks like. And here is one after a stroke. See the difference?

     The digestive system...

     Bladder, kidneys...

     If you look here, you can see how the ligaments connect the joints...

     Here are the tendons...

Anyway, Lexi got the whole body explained to her. It was awesome. It felt so amazing, to have one of my kids seem to want to see this, and be interested and not freaked out, and seem to really pick it up. This was just wonderful.
     As we were leaving, I overhear Lexi whisper to Kaila; "Kaila! I saw lots of boy parts, and lots of girl parts, everywhere!!!!!"

     "LEXI!!!! That's ALL you picked up thru that entire thing??!!!"

     "Well, I saw bladders and kidneys and stuff too."

Interview with a (wanna be) Vampire

     Last Sunday, I thought it would be a brilliant idea, to take the family someplace fun for the day. It was one of those rare days when we were all together at the same time, and the weather was going to be decent.
     The kids were given several options for places to go, and the beach was chosen pretty much across the board. This sounded like lots of fun, and we headed to Sunset Bay, our favorite beach, about an hour and a half away. Shortly before leaving, I saw one of the kids had dug the sunblock out of the beach supplies, and told said child repetedly, to put it back.
     Fast forward an hour and a half, and, the previously mentioned child casually mentions the sunblock is on the dinning room table at home. That's okay, though. The entire beach is littered with half naked bodies lying around, like there had been a massive shipwreak full of scantily clad teenagers nearby. I could work with this. Instead of being this pasty albino person, I would just lie out and get a little color. It's been forever, since I had anything more than a "Farmer's Tan". How nice. A whole afternoon of lying around doing nothing.
     How absolutely boring. I left my book in the truck, several blocks away. I couldn't focus in the sun, to see my sand covered phone screen very well, and, how on earth did all these people just LIE there for hours and hours? What if, they were all dead? Or needing medical attention? They didn't move! If I had a body like these girls, I would have totally wouldn't have been lying face down in the sand for 4 hours. Beauty is wasted on the young.
     So, using this amazing imagination I have been blessed with, I pretended I looked like that, and layed out like everyone else. Getting up and doing the whole frolic in the water with the kids thing, every once in awhile.
     This was very nice, until my back and shoulders suddenly began to feel like I was getting stung by a million bees, while getting beaten with a wet towel. Home we headed, leaving all the bodies still lying on the beach. It didn't make the news, so, evidently they all eventually came to life and wandered away.

     Within 20 miles of home, it was becoming difficult to breathe. It felt like a large boulder was on my chest. And the sunburn was REALLY painful. And I could feel my heart beating a million miles an hour. Hell.
     By bedtime, I was so cold I couldn't bear it, in 90 degree weather, my heart was still beating crazily, and I was sick. Total sun poisoning. And, that color I was so thrilled about getting? Forget nice little touch of sun, and go right toward 'roasted on a spit over a pit placed someplace in hell' leaving ridiculous lines that will probably never fade, and forever assure that this Mama will never have topless pics taken.
     A friend of mine is an RN, and happened to text me that evening. She informed me I needed to get to the ER immedietly. Dehydration and all that.

     "No." I shook my head. "I cannot go to the hospital; I have an interview at work tomorrow." And, that was that. I HAD to go to work and make that interview! It was for a position with normal hours, way closer to home, and would be PERFECT for family life! No more going days and days without seeing my kids! I NEEDED to make this interview.

     Morning dawned, and I was in rough shape. I could not lift my arms, I could not tolerate water spraying on me in the shower, I could not do my hair, I looked absolutely awful; my hair frizzy,  my face red and shiny, my eyes red. I could hardly think, let alone speak in cohearant sentances. But, I was determined. I could totaly do this. And, off I went. Drinking lots and lots of Gatoraid, and downing Tylenol on the way.

     By interview time, I was feeling somewhat better. Checking the miserable hair, and applying lipgloss to the sunburned lips, (that looked like a cross between a red kool-aid musctache, botox gone bad, and chapped lips...) trying to order my face to look pale and not shiney, and trying to make myself walk like a human, and not Frankenstien, due to the intensely painful nature of the sunburn, I was off. I could do this. Right?

     Wrong. I tried so hard, to look like a normal human being. There was a panel of 3 people asking me a total of 10 questions, and my brain totaly did not want to work at warp speed. My brain was moving along the lines of Federal Government Speed. As in, 'I will get the answers to your questions back to you in an expidated manner, approximately 2-6 months from now' speed.
    Some of the queastions, I had amazing answers to! YES! I got this! Even with sun poisoning, I got this! HA!!
     Other questions, all I could picture in my head was blank white wall, blank sheets of paper, an endless sky of nothingness. I couldn't think of one inteligent word to save my life. I could see Meg Ryan, in "You've got Mail", typing away, and saying, "Nothing. Even hours later, I still have nothing!" I was so there. And, in all my delerious awesomeness, I could hear myself begin to babble.

     "Okay. Well. Hmmm. I'm not sure exactly what you are looking for specificaly with this question. Ummm. Well. There was this time when I - no no. That isn't it. Umm. Well! There was this OTHER time when. No, that's not it, either. Okay. Here's the thing. You want to know specific details of specific problems I have solved. Who thinks about these things?! Every day there are problems, and I solve them! It's part of the job! It's what we DO!"

     3 sets of eyebrows raised, and 3 people carefully set thier pens down, and I just knew I had just lost any chance at that position. I began to try to mentaly talk myself out of why that was okay though. I liked my current job, and co-workers and the drive on nice days, and what I do, and all the time off I get and being able to somewhat control what days I work....

     They told me I would know the results next week. And I left. Berating myself for the irresponsible stupidness of lying on a beach in peak sun burn hours with the body of a vampire. I'm a nurse! I know better! I am a Mom! I REALLY know better! What the hell was my problem? Of all the things to do the day before an interview! Nice going, Moriah. You rock.

     Two days later, first thing in the morning, I got the call: THE POSITION WAS MINE!!! How that happened, I will never know. I was sure I hadn't a prayer. Anyway, I start September 8.

     Pretty much, That's it. It's all I can think about since I got the call. That, and the sunburn. It's been miserable. But I have decided to live. I may or may not have gone all "Water Boy" on my kids, and told them the sun was obviously The Devil, but, they are young and resiliant. I am sure they will forget it eventually.

I was THAT Mom.

     Yesterday, I took the kids and went to Wal Mart. That sentence should inspire nods of immediate understanding in any parent who has ever had children and gone to a store with them.

     Lets backtrack a little. It was one of those days that the kids had been put to work doing chores, and helping out with housework - "I know where I REALLY came from! You bought me from the gift shop at a slave mansion!" - Lexi.
     The housework done, the kids were getting on each others' nerves, George was miserable, needed a nap and had no intention of taking one, and Joe was following me ALL. DAY. Whatever he had to say, he repeated at least 132 times, and pointed out every grammar slip, argued every other statement out of my mouth, and generally needed to find something, anything, else to do.

     Anyway, the kids were miserable, and we needed to run to Wal Mart, half an hour away, and needed to make it quick, as we had to get dinner into the kids, and then go to their baseball/softball award ceremony. And, Joe had $10.50.

     We arrive at Wal Mart, and I do the 'haul George through the window with the truck running, as the window situation continues to be at crisis level, and his door does not open, then reach in, close the window, then turn the truck off while trying to keep George from running off, while the other three children argue about various things', routine. And of course, Joe reeeeaaaaly wanted to spend his $10.50.
    
     Upon entering Wal Mart, I explain to Joe, (The "Because I said so" line does not work with that child. Either take the time to explain yourself, or deal with hours/days of arguments and questions. I realize that every single parent/non parent/or person able to read this is shaking their head in disgust, as this is such a huge example of textbook Bad Parenting, but, you know what? You don't know this kid. He won't stop, otherwise. If this makes you feel better about your own parenting, then, I am willing to take one for the team and be all Bad Parent, so you can be all Good Parent. We good? Okay.) I explain to Joe, that we do not have time for him to browse and spend his money, but, that I need to go back Saturday Morning, so, he can spend his money then.

     What about a banana? Can I just buy a banana?

     No.

     It's healthy, and good for me! I can just grab it now, and it won't take ANY extra time at all!
     No.

     How about ice cream? Can I buy myself some ice cream?

     No.

     What about if I buy some for everybody?

     No.

     Can I buy this guy? I have enough money!
 
     No.

     Mom, This is not taking any extra time. If I get it while we are walking by, you will not even have to stop!

     NO!

     Mom. How about socks? Can I buy myself socks?

     NO!

     Mom. I think I need socks.

     I said NO. I just bought you socks, recently!

     I have enough for these Legos! Can I buy them?

     No.

     Can I buy myself just one $0.99 box of candy?

     NO!!!

     Look. If I just buy these two boxes of tic tacs and a pack of gum....

     Joseph!!! Please, stop!

My head was POUNDING. The other three were okay, George was confined to the shopping cart, due to a foot injury (and subsequent Urgent Care visit, in which it was determined he will live and not need an amputation, contrary to his drama, refusal to walk, screaming in pain, and general behaviors of someone in need of an imminent amputation and lengthy ICU stay....) and the girls were okay, as far as I recall. And, while trying to tune out Joe, I was wondering how bad of an example it would be for my kids, if I pulled my phone out and took a few pics of people that I could submit to the "People of Wal Mart" site. While contemplating this, I notice that people are kind of staring. But, since I am trying really hard not to scream in frustration at my 8 year old, who is JUST. NOT. STOPPING., I notice and then shrug. I cannot think why people could be staring. But, they were. And, in the back of my head, I kind of wonder why. But, Joe is tripping along dogging my every step with a constant barrage of begging and questions, so, I don't really care too much why. I was mentally calculating the distance to the tylenol section, and wondering if we had time.....

     We make it to the checkout, to more begging, and general misery among the children. And more people staring.

     "Joe!" I hiss, "You NEED to just stop. I SAID you could spend your money Saturday, now knock.it.off!!!!!" I say as quietly and sternly as possible.


I notice another mom, pushing a cartful of three screaming children, with a vacant, weary look on her face, and feel a pang of sympathy.

Out to the truck we go, listening to fighting over who gets to sit where, causing lots of screaming, crying, and shrieking. Going right. through. my. head. I could not take it any longer. Everyone piled in, and the shrieking continued. Mostly from Joe.

     "JOSEPH!!!!!!! FOR. THE. LOVE. OF. GOD. AND. ALL. HIS. LITTLE. CHILDREN!!!!!! SHUT. UP!!!!!!!!!!" I completely screech, top of my lungs, hands gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles.

     Then I look up, and there is the other mom, with the three screaming children. Glaring at me viciously. "Oh yeah?" I mutter, "Bet you want to scream at your little darlings too, lady, so don't you dare judge! Keep looking at me in that tone of voice, and I am going to scream at you, too."

     Lord. On to the gas station, where it was realized it was 7-11 at 7-11, and free Slurpee day. Sigh. Haul George out of the window throw him back through the window, get him all buckled in, to hear, "Now I gotta go potty!" back through the window, and back into the 7-11, where people are still starting. I don't even care anymore. I just need to go home and find the Tylenol.

 

     Once in the bathroom with George, I happen to catch myself in the mirror, and see the reason for the stares.

 

 

Alrightly then. This is why people are staring. Not only am I the obnoxious bad screaming mother, but, I look like THIS. I AM Wal Mart people. How the heck many people wanted to, (or did), take pictures of me for the Wal Mart people site. Lovely. Just lovely.