Thursday, September 25, 2008

My Rant About Jealousy

Before you click "play" on this video, I have to give you some background info. Over the Summer of Hell, when John, Evan and I were all struggling, we had some neighbors (Not you, Jon and Trish!) who acted as if they were our best friends. They would bring their children over to our house to play, come over nightly to play cards, etc. But then I started working again, and it all stopped. But not only did all of that stop, but then these rumors started flying around about me. It became an awful mess of childish craziness. I could not put my finger on what I had done to these people. I racked my brain for that answer, and the only event I can trace the change back to was the start of my job. We were poor for 3 months, and that was great. But then I am making money again. Putting my life back together. We moved into this house, and I catch them walking by here all the time, gawking. Well yesterday, they got the pleasure of seeing a brand new car in the driveway. I am sure some rumors will swirl around about this now.

So okay, here's the deal: I earned what I have. And to the people who want to begrudge me of what I have or will have, I will say this: While you were sitting on your ass, complaining about the life you have or do not have, I was working myself into a stupor in order to change my life. If you want to tell your children to be mean and cruel to my child because he goes to school in brand new Jordans instead of the buddies from the dollar store, then you need to realize something. Every designer label my son wears is backed up by hours of my time: Hours studying, hours worrying about licensure and credentials and improving my status in life, and hours at a job in which I am responsible for the lives of others. If you want to stalk my house and stare at us while we are just trying to live our lives, I am going to stop looking at that as a negative and see it as a compliment. I worked for it.

So this little clip from Katt Williams, taken from American Hustle, while totally hilarious, actually has quite a bit of truth to it. Preach!

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

I Took the Plunge...




I bought the car. I test drove a Gently Used 2007 Caliber. The problem is Dodge only puts a 36 month bumper-to-bumper warranty on their cars. So the used car had about 11K miles left on the warranty. I eat 11K miles for breakfast. And the power train warranty they advertise is for original owners only. Translation: Not it! So I get the figures on the used and the new. And I crunch them a little. If I added a warranty to the used car, it will solve one problem. The used one is also very close to being a base model. No bells and whistles. The new model comes with it all: fully loaded, Sirius radio for one year, roadside assistance, etc. And the price difference for all of these added featurs, a better engine, 2-year newer model? Only $2200. And the warranty? Holy Crappola! Here is the convo:

Salesman: "You'll get the lifetime powertrain warranty..."
Me: "Okay so 100K miles worth of not worrying about the engine. Nice."
Salesman: " No, Lifetime."
Me: "Yes but a car's lifetime is 100K."
Salesman: "No, it will not matter if the car has 500K miles on it. The powertrain is covered as long as you own the vehicle."
Me: "Holy shit!"

I bought the car.2009 model. Sunburst Orange, which is all shiny and pretty. I love it. It fits me perfectly, has all the features I could want in a vehicle. It had 23 miles on it when I pulled off the lot. If what I hear is true, it is now worth half of what I paid, less than 24 hours later. And because I bank with, and purchased the vehicle through my employer's credit union, my monthly payment is divided up amongst each payday, and will be deducted by the fine payroll people before I even have access to it. I had to go to the credit union and sign the loan paperwork after I had taken delivery of the vehicle, and then had to return to the dealership with a check. I swear, when I handed that check over to the business manager at the dealership, I could feel a portion of my pay disappearing each payday for the next 4 years. Ahhhhhh, the joys of financial responsibility.


John and Evan like it. At first, I don't think John was too thrilled about the choice in color. But I have received many compliments on it from others. Now, a day later, he says he loves the color, that it grew on him.

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

I Want...



Sarah Palin's glasses. There, I admitted this publically. Well not really publically considering there are about 2 people who will read this. Good thing my annual eye exam is corresponding with our upcoming election, or what would I do?


So I am searching Sarah Palin online to look for a pic I can use to see these specs up close and personal. And I find all of this other stuff. I mean, unless you have had your head buried under a rock recently, you know all of the dirt that is spreading about this woman. Yes, I guess there are some family issues with her. Sure, okay, I give them that. But is there anyone out there without family issues??? And Don't get me wrong...I love Desperate Housewives. I don't plan my life around it or anything, but I like the show. As a matter of fact, when the show first came on the air and there was this crazy frenzy over it, I did this huge paper for one of my college courses speculating what America's love for the show said about us. But am I gonna pick a candidate because Eva Longoria doesn't like her.


So now while we are on this topic, there are some things that irritate the living hell out of me. Lack of Experience? Well, let me ask you this: are ANY of the candidates experienced at being POTUS? Last I checked, the answer to that is a big fat NO. I know they are referring to an overall lack of experience in politics, but still...And one of the celebrities on the site to which I linked even said she will be president. She is McCain's running mate. Yes, I realize this could mean she would one day be our Prez, and I realize, amidst all of the jokes, that John McCain is a little more advanced chronologically. But people are acting like he is going to kick the bucket tomorrow. C'mon, really??? The sad thing is that I do not know if Americans will disregard some of this hype, and a large amount of flying mud to make this decision we are all facing. Never underestimate the power of the American people to vote for Pretty Speeches. This scares the crap out of me. After all, I earn my money.


Monday, September 22, 2008

wtf



I found this on Candice.Capitalism.Conan. and literally cracked up laughing. Are these people serious? I mean, really serious? This has to be a joke. Just watch it and you will see what I mean. But why did it remind me of this? WARNING: F-Bomb coming up!

Which One?


Okay, Tony. You were right!
I am on my way to work 2 days ago when drama finds me. Traffic. On I-275. The guy in front of me, in his brand new Camry, complete with air conditioning and a motor that does not overheat, is to blame. Traffic is bumper to bumper. I know my crappy vehicle's limitations, so when I get into traffic jams, I will turn the car off while I am sitting still. But this jerk was too busy calling everyone under the sun to worry about the road. So instead of closing up the gaps between his front bumper and the car in front of him, he would let the gap get bigger and coast as slowly as molasses. In other words, I never even stopped, but instead coasted. The temperature gauge got hotter and hotter. And hotter still. And I ended up stranded on the side of the interstate. No one even stopped to see if I was okay. It was awful. Once the engine cooled, I was able to get to work, though 10 minutes late.
Don't even ask what happened to the Explorer. Another drama-filled story to prove I have the worst luck imaginable. So... I. Need. A vehicle. NOW!
I call my bank, and I tell them the situation. The problem is that my Summer of Hell left my credit in bad form. Seriously bad form. But I bank where I work, at the credit union. And my pay goes directly into my account. I pointed out to them that they receive my money before I do! Ta-da! I am approved for a loan. So I start looking online for the dollar amount I have been granted. After years of struggling, paying off debt, and being as automotively frugal as possible, I am approved for a brand-spanking-new car. And I have options. I do not have to settle. So here are my options: 2009 Dodge Caliber, 2009 Honda Civic Coupe, 2009 Chevy Cobalt coupe. I test drove the Caliber today and I love it. It's a very convenient little car, with everything I need in a vehicle. They even had the trim and color I wanted at our local dealer. And it has a 5-star crash test rating. Considering I will be barrelling down the interstate at 85 mph several times a week, and hauling my child the rest of the time, I figured this would be important. So I am leaning toward this one. And I like the body. It's like a compact car mated with a mid-size SUV and produced this car. I will get the benefit of the SUV, but still have the comfort of driving a small vehicle like I am accustomed to. The deal will be going down in the next week or so, so we shall see.

Friday, September 19, 2008

Driving Me Crazy


Love Remains The Same @ Yahoo! Video


Anyone who watches any television has seen the trailer for Nights in Rodanthe, which is the new movie from the same dude who gave us the uber-Chick flick, The Notebook. (Which just happens to be one of my all-time faves to cry to...) Anyhow, in the trailer for the new flick (yes, I read this book, also) is a brief clip of a song that sounds great to my ears. But I have had no internet for awhile, and I had no way to figure out the song's title, the artist, the album, or anything. Well, Ta-DA! Through great sleuth work, I found it. Gavin Rossdale's "Love Remains the Same". I thought that voice sounded familiar. Bush's lead singer.

A Daily Dose of Oorah

John will start barking when he sees this, but I thought it was a beautiful commercial, and just had to share.

Thursday, September 18, 2008

Wednesday, September 17, 2008: I Miss the Water


When we suddenly got poor right before our Summer of Hell, and the family YMCA membership ceased to exist, I used the complex pool to swim my laps everyday. Sometimes several times a day. Reclaiming our right to use the Y was low on the rebuilding-our-life totem pole because John could run without a treadmill, and I didn’t have to have a heated indoor pool. But then Labor Day happened and the pool closed. Then we moved. Dammit, I am going back to the Y this week. Over the past couple of weeks, I could feel my energy drain, feel my muscles tighten. I need to get back to it.

Wednesday, September 17, 2008: The Calm After the Storm



We are almost finished getting the new house in order. Almost all of the laundry is finished, barring about 2 loads. Internet and cable is ordered. Phone, electric and water installed and going strong. The change of address is turned in. I can start to relax a little.
I’ve learned that I am addicted to blogging when I keep a journal in the form of a Word document that I can transplant to Bending and Not Breaking when my internet is up and running. There will be a lot of posts on the same date when all is said and done, as I still have another week without internet service. Okay, off I go to hang pictures. Hopefully, I do not trip over John in the process, who has found his new home on the living room floor.

Tuesday, September 16, 2008: Ike Visited Us


Sunday was very interesting. I was gearing up to get ready to leave for work. The wind was kicking. Shingles from the old house were landing on the lawn of the new house. If I wanted to, I could most likely extrapolate some deep meaning for that, but anyhow…I had to go, and John was worried about me in a little car for that drive. I left way early to account for downed trees and more.
Good thing. Even with the extra 45 minutes I allowed myself for the trip, I still ended up being 45 minutes late. On I-275, going over the Ohio River, a semi was blown over! The entire interstate was shut down and my little car did not move for 90 minutes. I am not exaggerating about terrible, creep-along traffic. I mean, I literally turned the car off and got out and was standing along the side of the road mingling with the other poor souls stuck there with me. The huge Indiana sign was blown off of the bridge. The enormous Lawrenceburg exit sign was down. It was terrible. And I kept thinking , “Please don’t let me have the ER when I get to work!”
When I got to work, I was assigned to the ER. Bad. Very, very bad. At a time when over 700,000 households are without power in the Greater Cincinnati Area, it is not a fun time to be a Respiratory Therapist in a busy metropolitan ER.
Every Tom, Dick, Harry, and Sue who is on either a home nebulizer, home O2 concentrator, CPAP, and even home ventilator , or a combination of any of the above, was in that ER. My phone rang constantly. Within 15 minutes, I had 3 patients arrive being bagged, and I ran all over retrieving vents, intervening, and trying to manage the most critical patients. Most of these patients were admitted, and I had to set in motion their respiratory orders per our protocols, and somehow get report to the therapist assigned to the floor to which they were going. It did not stop. Finally, around 7:30 the next morning, someone came to get me when I did not show up at 6:30 to give report to the next therapist coming on.
On the way home, it was awful. Cars were alongside the interstate, out of fuel, because all of the gas stations were closed due to the power outages. Despite the order to stay off the streets unless there was an extreme emergency, it seemed like every fool was out to see the damage. I sat in gridlock waiting to get onto the interstate to take me home, praying for traffic to clear because I only had enough gas in the car for the return trip home and had no manner with which to get more. It was sheer insanity, and I was left feeling grateful that we did not move closer to home like I had intended originally. Our power was never disrupted, and the greatest inconvenience here at home was the straw that blew all over the place from our fledgling lawn,

Saturday, September 13, 2008: Ahhh, That New-House Smell








Every home has a smell to it. I don’t care who you are, what type of smell-goods you use in your home. Your house has a unique smell to it. So we move into the new house. And it smells like a new house. You know, that smell of new wood mixed with new carpet, mixed with paint. But as we moved our belongings into it, I noticed that the smell was starting to fade and the house was, instead, taking on the smell of the old house.
Being the anal-retentive, slightly neurotic person that I am, I…Washed…Everything! Instead of the clothes being hung in the closet, it was all piled in the kitchen outside of the laundry room (which is really just a very functional closet). Those poor machines are working overtime, but I am almost finished. The new-house smell is in full force, mixed with the scent of Glade cinnamon apple candles. ( Hey, I love Yankee candles. I love Woodwick candles. But these little babies work just as well, and were 2 for $4 at Wally World.)
But for those of you who have never moved into a newly constructed home, I have a warning. It is not all peaches and cream. Yes, it is nice to know that you can walk bare-footed on the carpet and not worry whose funky feet have trodded on it before you came along. I didn’t have to cringe at the idea of placing dishes in cabinets without shelf paper. And yes, the house is pristine. But there is a drawback. None of the companies recognize my address. We waited the requisite one week for the telephone company to switch our service to the new address. We were about to die, being cut off from the rest of the world with no phone and no internet, when Ahhhhhhhh! There was a Verizon truck behind the house. But wait! The phone man is telling us that we cannot have a phone yet because there is no line to the house. It will take 2 weeks to get a line ran to the house and buried underground. Wtf. I begged. I pleaded. Then I played the I-am-a-healthcare-provider-and must-be-reachable card, with the requisite It-could-cost-me-my-JOB kicker. So now we have a phone, but we also have a fluorescent orange phone line stretching, on the ground, to the telephone pole on the street. Yes, it is unsightly, but I have a dial tone.
Internet is a different story altogether. When we called to order all of the services at the new address, we were told that DSL is not available at the new house. We were going to just get internet through the cable company, but I was seriously bummed. Despite our incessant computer problems in our household, we have never had trouble with our internet. We had a strong internet signal to the modem, even when there was no computer hooked to the modem. I wanted that same service. My neighbors, Jon and Trish, had internet through the cable company and had nothing but problems. I. Didn’t. Want. That. But when the tech installed the phone, he said we COULD have DSL here. It turns out that when they put the new address into the computer, it recognized it as out of the service area because it had never had a phone line run to it. As soon as the tech completed the work order in the computer, it turned out that not only can we have DSL, but we are even closer to the doodad that receives the signal, so our service will be even better!
And as for cable…We MUST have cable. Our cable provider carries the Big Ten Network. And when a Buckeye marries a Wolverine, that is as necessary in the home as electricity and running water. But the cable company said it will take 2 whole weeks to get the address situated in the computer system, and we have to wait that amount of time to even ORDER service. Blah!
In the meantime, all of that time away from the internet has made me very productive. I have washed everything, and the floor is no longer piled with laundry. Most of the boxes are unpacked. I have completed 3 more sections of my MCAT review. (Okay that’s not so great. I would have had more done by now, but I am only working on it between boxes.) Maybe I am an online junkie.

Saturday, September 13, 2008: Evan's Spelling Reward


Evan got a perfect score on his spelling test today! Yay! And you can even read the words he spelled. So I was going to get him a reward of some type. Nothing big. The brat just had his birthday, for which he received expensive big-boy gifts (MP3 player, digital camera, new bike, not-the-cheap-one scooter, etc.) So I asked what he wants. “Webkinz”, he says. Wtf is a WEBKINZ?????? Apparently, all the kids have at least one, except for poor, deprived Evan. Nevermind the details. That’s what he wants, so I have to find it. But Wally World doesn’t have it. And the nearest Toys’R’Us is an hour away. And I have to be at work in 2 hours. What does a resourceful mother do? I tell my child that he will have to wait for the reward for his effort until Mommy can locate and purchase this thing, whatever it is.
But then I am at the gift shop in the hospital where I work, 2 hours later. I am buying my requisite Diet Coke and single-scoop Graeter’s Chocolate-Chocolate Chunk ice cream, as if the lack of calories and sugar in one negates the other. And I see this colorful sign. And it says “Webkinz Sold Here” !!!!!!!!!! I found them. At WORK! And they are ugly. Again, what Evan wants…..
So I buy one for his reward, and then I buy another to make up for the fact that he has to wait until the next day for the reward. The Seal, and the Pug. I finish my grueling 12 at work, and I come home with the gift shop bag to present it to my son. I am sure he is going to be pleased. I found the damned things, right? And I bought him 2, not just one that he asked for. And he uses the manners I have instilled in him, and he thanks me for the gifts. Then he sits the sought-after ugly things on his window sill. Apparently it was not such a joyful event for him without internet. So he’ll still have to wait another week to get the full effect. Mommy can do nothing to fix that one. It’s ordered.
Ta-Da! The joys of raising a spoiled child!

Friday, September 12, 2008: Moving Misadventures

It went like this: I was packing and recovering from my weekend at work, simultaneously. I allowed myself to doze on the sofa for about an hour when --- Bzzzzzzz----my entire house shuts down. I go to the sliding glass door to look out back, just in time to see the man from the electric company hanging a lock on my meter. “ No! Wait!”, I screech, as I run out the door. But he was gone before I got to him. They turned off my power 2 whole days before they were supposed to, and I was left bewildered. How was I to pack in the dark? And wtf was I to do with the $300+ in groceries I had just loaded into the refrigerator?????
I had to make arrangements to move into the new house, had to call the builder and make sure it was ready for inhabitation. Thank the Powers That Be that it was. John came home from work, and we loaded the car with groceries, pillows and blankets, dirty laundry, a television, and an alarm clock and headed one block over to the new address. Evan was three shades of excited about our “camping” in the new house. I have never roughed it, so sleeping on the floor, watching a television that was not hooked to cable and sitting in a fancy armoire was pretty much as rough as I could get. But my food did not spoil. We had hot showers the next morning. We had to wait for first light the next morning before we could be even remotely constructive at the old place. But wait! What about coffee? So we back-tracked to McDonald’s for my large coffee ( 3 creamers, 3 Equal, Thank you very much!). You have to love the “I’m Lovin’ It” People early in the morning for handing you your coffee with the cream and sugar already added! It truly does give me that warm fuzzy feeling, but I am easily pleased these days after our Summer of Hell. Anyhow…..
John went to work, Evan went to school, and I scrambled. I managed to get the entire house packed in that one day. Well, almost entirely packed. The only thing done prior to that point was the packing of non-essentials. Now I had the rest of the junk to contend with. It took some arse-busting, but it was all done.
John came home from work, and we headed to the new house with boxes of clothes, toys, and other items. I personally supervised the transport of my purses. John grumbled about the quantity of them, as well as the massive quantity of scrubs, and deduced that I could truly go for 26.333333 weeks without ever having to wash or duplicate my workwear. I discovered, through this process, that is better to keep my vices shoved into the closet, where my husband can remain blissfully unaware. But instead, we are relocated them all, and I had to convince my husband that, yes, it truly is necessary to have over 80 sets of scrubs and that, yes, I really do use all of those handbags. I must be good, because everything survived the trip.
We waited until the next day to move the furniture and appliances. Our neighbor, Jon ( Yes, Jon and John) used their manly powers to lift and load everything onto a trailer, and we hauled the stuff one block over. It looked a little Clampett-ish, but I refused to pay the money to rent a truck for that short a distance. We did rent an appliance dolly for the armoire and appliances. My armoire for my television is massive, and was rather expensive. I preferred it to be intact at the end of the move, and I wanted the men to be physiologically sound after moving it, so the dolly was useful. They loaded it up, started to move it, got it almost to the trailer. Someone must have hit a bump, because all I saw was the gleaming wood crashing to the ground. “Dammit John/ Jon! Who didn’t tighten the strap?????” My hillbilly neighbor (NOT Jon!) asked “ What IS that???” I wanted to cry. But I learned that when you spend that much on a piece of furniture, it truly does last. Other than the need to tweak a hinge on the door, and fix a drawer track on the bottom, my armoire is fine.
I returned Thursday to clean the old house and turn in the keys while my boys were at work/ school. I had just a few hours, then we would have to head to school for Family Fun Night. Evan was singing, so we had to be good parents and attend. I love how schools have a knack for scheduling these little events when you have the least time available, and have the biggest To-Do list of your life.
Well, we survived the move. It was so surreal to see the old place empty. Evan was not smiling at me from his pictures on the walls. There were no spelling tests or crayon art on the refrigerator. John’s work boots were not by the door. The only trace that my family was ever there was the handprints Evan had left on the wall, which were swiftly cleaned away. It just goes to show you that “Home” is not just a building. My family is my home.

Sunday, September 7, 2008

"We Weren't Crazy"

videoWhen John and I got married, everyone said we were crazy, that it would not last. Well I love this song, and wanted to play with Windows Movie Maker, and here are the results.

Saturday, September 6, 2008

My Salvation

Just when you think the amount of stress in your life is going to completely break you....when you look at your child, and think to yourself "what am I going to do with him?"...When your to-do list has nothing even remotely enjoyable, but is rather a laundry list of the most mundane tasks which will require more time than you have available in a single day, even without sleep or work. That point, that speck of time...That is when a child, armed with nothing but a cheap Happy Meal toy, can do something to make it all just go away. In that second, you are just happy. You are laughing, joyous, smiling. Perhaps true happiness in life comes at a time when you can realize that these are the moments to live for. Despite the white hairs cropping up on my head which I am convinced are solely his doing, I love being this child's mother.

Because I am THAT Kinda Girl




Hahaha. Love this! Live for football season.I was just inspired by a healthy dose of smack-talkin' with a friend. Who said it is all about men and football? No, Honey,you get me a beer! Hey DFC, if you are reading this, IT'S ON!

Friday, September 5, 2008

Weary.


This is just a snapshot of John that I took last night. He had just gotten home from work, and was dirty and sweaty. You can see the weariness in his eyes, and it makes me sad. I want more than anything to be able to give him a wonderful life, and I am so afraid I will not be able to. We have a very tough road ahead of us, with medical school looming in my future. I have tried to tell him it will not be easy. I think he knows as much, but will not let on that he does. As cheesy and corny as it sounds, you can endure anything when you love someone enough. He says when I am finished, he wants to become a professional fisherman. I just hope he can. He will deserve to do nothing but float on a lake somewhere in peace.

Hmmmm.


My kid is asleep on the floor somewhere amongst the boxes. He woke up and wandered downstairs in the middle of the night at some point. He's sweet, and snoring, and I am having a hard time waking him to get ready for school.

It is dark and rainy outside and I want more than anything to curl up with my blanket and go back to sleep, but I have to see him off, which pretty much sucks. NOT looking forward to waiting for the bus in the rain. I could sleep so well right now, which is saying something, because I cannot generally sleep much during the day for someone who works night shift. And I am on for the next three nights! Blah!

Thursday, September 4, 2008

I Love My Husband No. 3


Since I am procrastinating on the packing a bit more, and I have that sentimental mood going, I thought I should take a minute to tell you about my John.
John and I met, and within one weekend, I was falling in love with him. He has a heart unlike any other. He made me laugh at a time I did not think possible to do so. And those eyes. He has eyes that smile when he does.
So what happened? You know we were eventually married. But I don't think either of us expected us to be engaged within a month of meeting. We surprised everyone yet again when we decided to just do it. We got married 3 months after we met. Could we have possibly known everything about each other in that short a time frame? No, absolutely not. But I knew enough to know that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with this man. We were married in front of his mother's Christmas tree on Christmas Eve, 2000.
We are not the perfect couple. This man can get under my skin in a way noone else can. But noone else gets me like he does. Noone else makes me laugh as loud, cry as hard, live as much. But regardless of what comes our way and how difficult life gets, we both know that we are stronger together than either of us could be apart. I honestly cannot picture life without him by my side.

Still in Hell, But I Have Friends Here











Yes, we are packing. I have today and tomorrow morning to get as much done as possible, as I work all weekend. Evan loves playing with the boxes, which is not fun for me, as we are limited as it is. As of right now, neither of us are dressed (i.e. we are in the clothes we slept in, not that we are running around naked). Makeup and styled hair are not options for me at the moment. Who has time? I have just completed gutting out the storage area by the washer and dryer and have come up with a carload of crap to take to Goodwill. Along with this mix of crap were all sorts of clothing articles that I could not part with, and they have landed in the dirty laundry, to washed and taken to the new place. It would seem that D-Day is next Wednesday, so the plan is to get as much done by then that I can just load it and move it. John is of minimal help in this stage of the game. He just does not have the organizational skills to do this. If he were to pack, I would be unpacking at the new place only to find silverware mixed with Evan's outgrown clothes, mixed with DVD's and power tools. Since I am not taking time off of work for this, I have to be able to locate the essentials, so I can unpack them first, then move on to the other stuff. This is why the husband has been eliminated from this stage. When it comes to moving the crap, his muscles will come into play.


In the meantime, the house resembles a Crack House (as if I have ever set foot in one of those), and I keep stubbing toes on boxes.
Note: This break was brought to you by Marlboro and Diet Mountain Dew. Now, back to work!

Wednesday, September 3, 2008

BioChem? Med School?

Do I need to change my mind?

Yes, This Does Indeed Suck!



Yep, I am in Packing Hell! We've only lived here a year and the new house is just a block away. I am trying so hard to resist the urge to throw everything in a pile of generalized crap and take a shop broom and sweep it down the street to the new house. Where did all of this stuff come from?

Tuesday, September 2, 2008

The Tooth, Troops, and the Principal


It has been a crazy day here in this house. It all started with John. He woke of with a face that was swollen beyond fathom. He was drooling a little bit, also. Apparenly, he has a disordered tooth, but we had no dentist. So after a few phone calls, he was in the car and on the way to get the problem diagnosed. What I did not expect was for him to return with a treatment plan and estimate of over $800. But we have insurance! What is this about? Well, he has to have a root canal, and a crown, and that is the portion insurance will not pay. I called and took care of the arrangements. I was not pleased when she labeled me the "responsible party". Blah! Adulthood is not fun, children. I got the most expensive insurance plan at work with the highest rate of coverage because we are sure that my son will need orthodontia in the future. I had no idea my husband would be so expensive as well.
Then, while cruising one of my favorite websites, I found something that broke my heart. It would seem that there are 4 Marines that we know of who have received nothing from home since being deployed to Iraq. Excuse me? No "I Love You" letter? No "Come Home Safely" letter? Well, I took care of it. I sent them all letters through Moto Mail. I will work on care packages while off work this week.
Now for the principal. It would seem that my son got sent to the office for the second time this week. I do not know what to do with him. He cannot fathom that school is not playtime, and keeps talking to his friends. Grrrr.

Monday, September 1, 2008

To My Son, on the Day of his Birth




My Dearest Evan,


Today, I am sad. It seems like just yesterday that you were born. You were our miracle, the baby who was not supposed to make it. It shows just how much they knew. But I cannot believe it has been 7 years since we first laid eyes on you.


What a joy it has been for me to watch you grow into such an amazing little person. How blessed I am to get to watch you learn each and every day. Those liquid brown eyes of yours absorb everything around you, and I get to once again see the world through the innocent eyes of a child.


Lately, your father and I have been concerned about your unwaivering trust in others as if it is a bad thing. Yes, it is true that there are others out there who could harm you. But that trust is not entirely bad. Your ability to see the good in others is remarkable in a world full of cynics. We could all learn so much from you, little Evan. As the years pass and the number of candles on the birthday cake grow, please do not lose that.


Never stop learning. Even at the young age of 7, it is obvious to everyone who gets the priviledge of meeting you, that you have a mind that is extraordinarily gifted. While it is cliche, you truly can do anything you set your mind to. In the words of one of my instructors from college, you truly are only limited by your desire, because your abilities are limitless.


So another year has passed, carrying me further away from the day you were born, and closer to the day when you will be grown and leaving home. This is the reason I am sad. Having you in my life has been the greatest joy I have ever known. I can work toward my goals and achieve all I ever wanted, and will honestly be able to say I deserve the reward. How ironic is it that the greatest gift in my life, my Evan from Heaven, I will never deserve?


I thank God for choosing me to be your mother. Happy Birthday, my Angel Pie!


Love,


Mommy

P.S. Do you remember? You used to not go to sleep until I would sing this to you.