So this story didn't happen on Halloween but aside from being a parent, this is the scariest thing that has ever happened to me.
As a young teenager I held a job that many teenagers hold. Babysitter. I mainly babysat Saturday mornings, but sometimes I was required on weeknights.
There was a boy and a girl. The boy always went to bed without a problem. He was used to routine and he stuck to it. The girl on the other hand was a princess. She didn't like going to sleep in her own room at night, and she was afraid of the dark. So the routine with her became letting her fall asleep on the couch and then carry her into her bed. Not long after this began, I learned she was a sleep talker. Fun at first, but it lost it's flare so I soon learned that when she started talking it was time to put her in bed.
One night, I was watching cable tv (a luxury at that time) and the girl was drifting asleep on the couch. The lights were off and I became entranced in what ever show was on at 9:00pm at night. The girl began to talk so I set the remote down and got up and walked over to her. As I got a couple feet away, I noticed her eyes were wide open and they were set on me.
"Oh, you're awake. Do you need a drink?"
Blank stare, and no answer.
"Hey, what did you say?" I prodded to no avail.
I felt something was off so I took a step closer and leaned in and said her name.
At the sound of her name she instantly sat straight up and her eyes were fixed on mine.
Her face glowed in the reflection of the television. Her hair was disheveled and frizzy. She didn't blink. Not once.
My heart began to race as I said "Hello! Ash! Are you awake!??!" And she kept staring. Then she began to mumble.
"What!?" I spat out in a whisper.
She repeated her mumble.
"Ashton! Wake up!"
And she laid back down. Still staring at me. Not blinking.
She finally closed her eyes and turned her head.
She had a tv in her room so I left her on the couch and watched tv in there until her mom got home.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Thursday, October 6, 2011
I swear I'm not high
So I went to the bathroom today at work. Not a ground breaking experience but something did happen that was worth a blog.
Whilst on the throne, I looked down at the floor and noticed a cute little centipede, no longer than an inch, making its way to who knows where. I watched as its tiny little legs made wave like ripples through its body. It was almost poetic. Then I witnessed it making a zig zag formation and as my little bug went on, I thought maybe it would walk in the depression of the tiles, but no, it turned it's head and again the path turned jagged.
This puzzled me. Why wouldn't this damned bug walk in a straight line? Then I pondered, why do I expect it to? Does this bug know where it is traveling to? Do I know where I am traveling to? Do I walk in straight lines?
Sometimes I feel like people expect me to walk in the depression of the tiles. An indentation that they made themselves and expect me to just follow along.
So then I thought, way to go little bug! Do your own thing! I don't know where you are going, and I don't know where I am going, but we are going to find our own paths to get there! And then the wave motioned body crawled out of my sight and I realized where I was. So I finished my business and exited the stall.
Kind of intense for a bathroom break eh?
Whilst on the throne, I looked down at the floor and noticed a cute little centipede, no longer than an inch, making its way to who knows where. I watched as its tiny little legs made wave like ripples through its body. It was almost poetic. Then I witnessed it making a zig zag formation and as my little bug went on, I thought maybe it would walk in the depression of the tiles, but no, it turned it's head and again the path turned jagged.
This puzzled me. Why wouldn't this damned bug walk in a straight line? Then I pondered, why do I expect it to? Does this bug know where it is traveling to? Do I know where I am traveling to? Do I walk in straight lines?
Sometimes I feel like people expect me to walk in the depression of the tiles. An indentation that they made themselves and expect me to just follow along.
So then I thought, way to go little bug! Do your own thing! I don't know where you are going, and I don't know where I am going, but we are going to find our own paths to get there! And then the wave motioned body crawled out of my sight and I realized where I was. So I finished my business and exited the stall.
Kind of intense for a bathroom break eh?
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Feets don't fail me now!
You know what is really funny later, but isn't so much at the time? When you sit on the toilet for too long and your legs fall asleep.
I have encountered this problem a few times thanks to my smartphone's access to internet, games, texting, and whatnot.
I wasn't feeling to well at work tonight so I was going through my checklist of things, have I eaten today? Have I had enough water? Did I poop yet? Well, I did eat some pizza that I am now regretting, but I did need some water, and then I decided to take that trip to the bathroom.
I knew I wasn't going to be done yet, but that feeling of dead weight in my legs began to sink in. And then I started to panic. Are my legs going to wake up in time to walk me out of here? What if I fall? That would be embarassing, and I don't remember the last time these stalls were mopped!?
So I said a prayer after I did my paperwork and slowly stood. Okay good, they woke up. Here we go to wash our hands. By the time I made my way to the sink that ridiculous pins and needles feeling began to prickle and tickle my feet with every step. And I thanked God that my older brother Matt wasn't around because the last time his leg fell asleep I started slapping it. I could only imagine the pay back I would have received.
After a sufficient hand washing, I began to make my way down the hallway giggling. Are you aware of how strange it is laughing like a small child by yourself in the middle of a 2000 square foot foyer? Which made me laugh harder. So not only was my body torturing itself by tickles, I had the giggles.
Now back in my office with the normal feeling in my legs, I feel slightly better physically and mentally, I am probably crazy, because I am thinking, could you imagine this happening to the president? The Pope? Colin Powell? And any other major figure. Try not to laugh at the thought of that as they walk towards a group of people with that stiff leg, slow step into the public eye.
I have encountered this problem a few times thanks to my smartphone's access to internet, games, texting, and whatnot.
I wasn't feeling to well at work tonight so I was going through my checklist of things, have I eaten today? Have I had enough water? Did I poop yet? Well, I did eat some pizza that I am now regretting, but I did need some water, and then I decided to take that trip to the bathroom.
I knew I wasn't going to be done yet, but that feeling of dead weight in my legs began to sink in. And then I started to panic. Are my legs going to wake up in time to walk me out of here? What if I fall? That would be embarassing, and I don't remember the last time these stalls were mopped!?
So I said a prayer after I did my paperwork and slowly stood. Okay good, they woke up. Here we go to wash our hands. By the time I made my way to the sink that ridiculous pins and needles feeling began to prickle and tickle my feet with every step. And I thanked God that my older brother Matt wasn't around because the last time his leg fell asleep I started slapping it. I could only imagine the pay back I would have received.
After a sufficient hand washing, I began to make my way down the hallway giggling. Are you aware of how strange it is laughing like a small child by yourself in the middle of a 2000 square foot foyer? Which made me laugh harder. So not only was my body torturing itself by tickles, I had the giggles.
Now back in my office with the normal feeling in my legs, I feel slightly better physically and mentally, I am probably crazy, because I am thinking, could you imagine this happening to the president? The Pope? Colin Powell? And any other major figure. Try not to laugh at the thought of that as they walk towards a group of people with that stiff leg, slow step into the public eye.
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
I Laugh in the Face of Children
I love my nieces and nephews dearly. I think they offer great comedic relief at times when conversations with adults lack personality. conversations with kids just go better sometimes.
That is of course, unless you are talking to my 5 year old niece that happens to know everything and will gladly tell you so in an argument.
One particular day, my patience was wearing particulary thin with the child so I was doing my best to favor her three year old brother because that is just how i deal with children, I play them off one another.
My nephew and I share a common interest in the show Fraggle Rock. My favorite character is "The Great, and All Knowing, Incredible Trash Hep. Meeeeehh"
The best part about the whole thing is the whiney "Meeeeehhh" by her introductors Phino and Grunge, the rats that discovered her and act as her lackeys. So my nephew and I will randomly go up to each other and say "TRASH HEAP!" and the other will respond with a hearty "Meeeeeeeh"
So my niece, not one to miss an opportunity for redemption, runs up to me and goes, "Hey Julia! Uhhh.... uhmm..... uhhhhh......" and then she blankly stared at me and said "GARBAGE PILE!!! Ewwwwww."
And there we have it. she committed fully to what she was saying and she looked like a buffoon. and thats all I ask out of life. To make sure that every5 yea r old has a moment to bring themselves off their pedestals and just see to it that they fail with confidence. Because God knows all we need on this earth is a 5 year old that knows it all.
The best part about the whole thing is the whiney "Meeeeehhh" by her introductors Phino and Grunge, the rats that discovered her and act as her lackeys. So my nephew and I will randomly go up to each other and say "TRASH HEAP!" and the other will respond with a hearty "Meeeeeeeh"
So my niece, not one to miss an opportunity for redemption, runs up to me and goes, "Hey Julia! Uhhh.... uhmm..... uhhhhh......" and then she blankly stared at me and said "GARBAGE PILE!!! Ewwwwww."
And there we have it. she committed fully to what she was saying and she looked like a buffoon. and thats all I ask out of life. To make sure that every5 yea r old has a moment to bring themselves off their pedestals and just see to it that they fail with confidence. Because God knows all we need on this earth is a 5 year old that knows it all.
Friday, July 1, 2011
Typical West Ender
I went on a service retreat this past weekend with some students. At our work sites there were plenty of times for bonding and chats about nothing in particular.
One of those chats we had was about an experience this teenage girl had at the Mississippi Valley Fair. Her friend's dad picked up the group of girls and on the drive home he was doing as a good parent would by asking about the day.
One of the girls began a story about a group of people that they saw. Now, before I go any further, this is a group of kids that come from a more privileged background than your typical Quad Citians.
She began to describe a man that had been partaking in alcohol consumption, wore a wife beater and blue jean cut offs. The father's response was "Typical Westenders"
For a moment as this story went on, I thought about defending my home territory but ultimately decided after perusing my memories that the Father was right. The west end of Davenport is your typical white trash. And tonight at Rockingham Hy-Vee, I realized, so am I.
I was talking to Mike over the phone on my way home from work about dinner. Sebby was in the back seat passed out. We decided it was too hot to grill out, but not too hot for a hot n ready from Little Caesars. So I hung up and dialed in for a Supreme. Its my fave.
While driving home I began thinking about how much I appreciate my husband's hard work ethic and I thought, its Friday night! My man deserves a beer! So after picking up the "zah" I headed to my local grocers and selected a 6 pack of Amberbock for my hubby.
On a Friday night of a holiday weekend, I stood in line for check out. Baby on my right hip, and a 6 pack in my left hand. Got a few weird looks but no one said anything. And I realized all at once. The only thing keeping me from looking like a true west ender was that it was a fancy bottle 6 pack of Amberbock and not 30 case of Keystones.
I walked out of the store with the baby on my hip and my head held high.
Happy Fourth everyone! Now get out there and celebrate America by blowing up a small portion of it!
One of those chats we had was about an experience this teenage girl had at the Mississippi Valley Fair. Her friend's dad picked up the group of girls and on the drive home he was doing as a good parent would by asking about the day.
One of the girls began a story about a group of people that they saw. Now, before I go any further, this is a group of kids that come from a more privileged background than your typical Quad Citians.
She began to describe a man that had been partaking in alcohol consumption, wore a wife beater and blue jean cut offs. The father's response was "Typical Westenders"
For a moment as this story went on, I thought about defending my home territory but ultimately decided after perusing my memories that the Father was right. The west end of Davenport is your typical white trash. And tonight at Rockingham Hy-Vee, I realized, so am I.
I was talking to Mike over the phone on my way home from work about dinner. Sebby was in the back seat passed out. We decided it was too hot to grill out, but not too hot for a hot n ready from Little Caesars. So I hung up and dialed in for a Supreme. Its my fave.
While driving home I began thinking about how much I appreciate my husband's hard work ethic and I thought, its Friday night! My man deserves a beer! So after picking up the "zah" I headed to my local grocers and selected a 6 pack of Amberbock for my hubby.
On a Friday night of a holiday weekend, I stood in line for check out. Baby on my right hip, and a 6 pack in my left hand. Got a few weird looks but no one said anything. And I realized all at once. The only thing keeping me from looking like a true west ender was that it was a fancy bottle 6 pack of Amberbock and not 30 case of Keystones.
I walked out of the store with the baby on my hip and my head held high.
Happy Fourth everyone! Now get out there and celebrate America by blowing up a small portion of it!
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Compromise.... We haz it.
Mike and I have started a wonderful thing. We call it Monday Night Grocery getting. Thats right.
It begins on Sunday. Over dinner, we discuss the foods that tempt our taste buds and plan our dinner meals for Monday through Sunday.
The on Monday night, we pack up Lil' Sebastian and we head out to Wal-Mart and get the baby food for the week. Then we take a ride over to Hy-Vee and get the grown up food for the week.
This all sounds mature and domestic, but we are deep into week 2 of this adventure and I am already seeing flaws in the system. You see, Thursday night this week is supposed to be salad. I hate salad. I don't see it as a main course. Not even with grilled chicken on top. I want sides, and a real meat. What can you side with salad when the salad is just a larger portion of a side?
I decided to get creative. Tonight, for dinner, I am making cheeseburger salad. Its basically the most awesome thing I've ever thought of. Picture this, lettuce, tomato, cheese, onion, croutons. Your typical salad no? Add this, pickles, and ground beef. Bam. Cheeseburger salad. Now, do I do ketchup as a dressing, OOOORRRRRR Add bacon bits and stick with a classic Ranch dressing for a bacon ranch burger salad?
Too much?
It begins on Sunday. Over dinner, we discuss the foods that tempt our taste buds and plan our dinner meals for Monday through Sunday.
The on Monday night, we pack up Lil' Sebastian and we head out to Wal-Mart and get the baby food for the week. Then we take a ride over to Hy-Vee and get the grown up food for the week.
This all sounds mature and domestic, but we are deep into week 2 of this adventure and I am already seeing flaws in the system. You see, Thursday night this week is supposed to be salad. I hate salad. I don't see it as a main course. Not even with grilled chicken on top. I want sides, and a real meat. What can you side with salad when the salad is just a larger portion of a side?
I decided to get creative. Tonight, for dinner, I am making cheeseburger salad. Its basically the most awesome thing I've ever thought of. Picture this, lettuce, tomato, cheese, onion, croutons. Your typical salad no? Add this, pickles, and ground beef. Bam. Cheeseburger salad. Now, do I do ketchup as a dressing, OOOORRRRRR Add bacon bits and stick with a classic Ranch dressing for a bacon ranch burger salad?
Too much?
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Get off my lawn!
Whenever my doorbell rings, I usually get really annoyed. Sometimes its good though. Like when the UPS guy does it as a common courtesy then leaves. I like that. But this year has been a ridiculous one.
3-4 Home Security salesmen have rang my doorbell offering to install a free security system in my home. This always seems too good to be true so I always decline. Honestly I don't think it is worth the time or energy. I really don't have many treasures worth protecting when I am not home. I'll tell you what I got. A tv, a computer, and a wii. That's about it. All easily replaceable. Not really worth much. Anything of value that I own is not here.
So anyway, my mind wanders. Why is my neighborhood targeted by so many security companies? Is there something I don't know about the crime rate of my quiet little neighborhood? Ever since redneck Vern moved out from across the street, and the coked out stripper two houses down, this neighborhood has been police free for 2 years. Honestly, even when we had them as neighbors, the cops were only called on those 2 houses and it was usually a full moon (Because Vern was nekkid) and alcohol was always involved. That's right, just your good ol fashioned white trash neighbors.
So, why else are we targeted? My neighborhood is honestly misunderstood. I live in an area where people assume is trashy because of an area nearby. While our homes are small, and many houses on my block are rental properties, pretty much everyone is an honest hard working household that are just living the American dream. Go a block to the east, and you've found yourself in a neighborhood where you might want to wear a body condom. The yards are filled with trash, grass is overgrown. The siding, windows, and doors are all original and faded. Potentially crooked. There are rusted out cars in the driveway that haven't moved since "Nam". And the children ride their bikes without shoes on. Not that there's anything wrong with that, unless said child is sporting a rat-tail hair style and a pair of jean cut-offs. You know its just the icing on the cake.
Lastly, I feel these companies are sending me mixed messages. I am a paranoid person. I'm not going to invite ANY door to door person into my home just so they can peek around and see what treasures I hold. I don't want my carpets cleaned by your hocus pocus. Clorox Magic does wonders for me. Also, I don't want to buy your magazines. I take the ones I like from doctors offices. No need to subscribe!
And the final thought I will leave you with: I feel these companies are sending the complete opposite message. Help us protect your home, but first open your door to this complete stranger!
It makes nonsense. I prefer my home does not get burglarized, it would actually be a huge inconvenience. But really, I have neighbors that have way better stuff than me that should be more worried. As long as I have my baby and my husband, I'll be alright.
3-4 Home Security salesmen have rang my doorbell offering to install a free security system in my home. This always seems too good to be true so I always decline. Honestly I don't think it is worth the time or energy. I really don't have many treasures worth protecting when I am not home. I'll tell you what I got. A tv, a computer, and a wii. That's about it. All easily replaceable. Not really worth much. Anything of value that I own is not here.
So anyway, my mind wanders. Why is my neighborhood targeted by so many security companies? Is there something I don't know about the crime rate of my quiet little neighborhood? Ever since redneck Vern moved out from across the street, and the coked out stripper two houses down, this neighborhood has been police free for 2 years. Honestly, even when we had them as neighbors, the cops were only called on those 2 houses and it was usually a full moon (Because Vern was nekkid) and alcohol was always involved. That's right, just your good ol fashioned white trash neighbors.
So, why else are we targeted? My neighborhood is honestly misunderstood. I live in an area where people assume is trashy because of an area nearby. While our homes are small, and many houses on my block are rental properties, pretty much everyone is an honest hard working household that are just living the American dream. Go a block to the east, and you've found yourself in a neighborhood where you might want to wear a body condom. The yards are filled with trash, grass is overgrown. The siding, windows, and doors are all original and faded. Potentially crooked. There are rusted out cars in the driveway that haven't moved since "Nam". And the children ride their bikes without shoes on. Not that there's anything wrong with that, unless said child is sporting a rat-tail hair style and a pair of jean cut-offs. You know its just the icing on the cake.
Lastly, I feel these companies are sending me mixed messages. I am a paranoid person. I'm not going to invite ANY door to door person into my home just so they can peek around and see what treasures I hold. I don't want my carpets cleaned by your hocus pocus. Clorox Magic does wonders for me. Also, I don't want to buy your magazines. I take the ones I like from doctors offices. No need to subscribe!
And the final thought I will leave you with: I feel these companies are sending the complete opposite message. Help us protect your home, but first open your door to this complete stranger!
It makes nonsense. I prefer my home does not get burglarized, it would actually be a huge inconvenience. But really, I have neighbors that have way better stuff than me that should be more worried. As long as I have my baby and my husband, I'll be alright.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Stranger things have happened
My paternal Grandfather died September 26, 2010. During his time on earth, he had a pure hatred for red lights and stupid traffic that went deep down into the pit of his soul.
I share this hatred. I think it's genetic.
Fore warning: This blog may show you exactly how strange I may be. But I don't care. Its just my take on life.
Since my Grandpa O's death, I have noticed many things during my drive times. I hit red lights like it's my job. I constantly get stuck by a line of cars while trying to cross a highway. And people pull out in front of me like I am invisible.
While I haven't figured out a way to fix the third problem aside from t-boning the other car (That'll teach em.) I have in a strange way figured out a way to solve the other problems. Here comes the paranormal part. I find myself talking to my Grandpa like he actually has influence on traffic patterns and stop lights. And you know what. It works. Maybe it's luck, maybe it is timing, but I think it isn't. I think my Grandpa is my own little patron Saint of Traffic.
Not saying that my Grandpa watches out for me so that I don't hit any red lights, but if in cases where I am running late, a quick "Grandpa, please?!" usually does the trick for me. Same for when there is a line of cars.
I'm not crazy. I just have faith that my Grandpa is watching me from heaven, making sure that I don't go road rage postal on someone that doesn't deserve it.
I share this hatred. I think it's genetic.
Fore warning: This blog may show you exactly how strange I may be. But I don't care. Its just my take on life.
Since my Grandpa O's death, I have noticed many things during my drive times. I hit red lights like it's my job. I constantly get stuck by a line of cars while trying to cross a highway. And people pull out in front of me like I am invisible.
While I haven't figured out a way to fix the third problem aside from t-boning the other car (That'll teach em.) I have in a strange way figured out a way to solve the other problems. Here comes the paranormal part. I find myself talking to my Grandpa like he actually has influence on traffic patterns and stop lights. And you know what. It works. Maybe it's luck, maybe it is timing, but I think it isn't. I think my Grandpa is my own little patron Saint of Traffic.
Not saying that my Grandpa watches out for me so that I don't hit any red lights, but if in cases where I am running late, a quick "Grandpa, please?!" usually does the trick for me. Same for when there is a line of cars.
I'm not crazy. I just have faith that my Grandpa is watching me from heaven, making sure that I don't go road rage postal on someone that doesn't deserve it.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Helpless situations
I am always irritated. But sometimes my funniest lines happen when I am annoyed. Living in the West End of Davenport, you encounter a lot of interesting people. I have decided to list the interesting people that piss me off.
1- People that smoke at entrances to restaurants, grocery stores, or any other public building. Step outside the fact that it is illegal, is your shopping experience so intense that it qualifies for a smoke break? Or do you just get off on great deals and have to pause for 5 minutes then get back into it? I don't care that you smoke. I care when it affects me. Such as at the Rockingham Hy-Vee when I am trying to get a Redbox. Don't talk to me, don't touch my baby, put out your cancer stick and get back in the building to oogle the cheap prices of the Keystones and slim jims.
2- People that park in the fire lane. You know, the fat asses that really need to park on the opposite side of the lot to get that exercise? Or the people that need the quick get away from the dollar tree. Seriously, I've been to Walmart enough times where an ambulance was needed and the fire truck parking lot was full of people waiting for their wives or children to get their Valutime Cheese Puffs. Oh and by the way 95% of them were smoking.
3- People that yell at public officials for doing their job. This story is kind of ridiculous and isn't the only representation of my opinion, but here goes. I was at the Humane Society getting a rabies shot for my dog and some young female patron behind me was noticing an Animal Control Truck coming in. The officer got out of the truck and pulled out a 6 month old Golden Retriever and was carrying it inside to which the young idiot blurted out "You just stole someone's dog! Just wanted to let you know that!" First off, no shit. Thank you captain obvious. But lets use our thinking brain here. How do we know that dog wasn't running the streets terrorizing innocent citizens or the owner was beating it? I looked at her, as did everyone else, with an incredulous look. And then she did it. The Maury Povich, hand on the hip, wiggling her head back and forth, whipped her hair around then looked away like we are the ones with the problem. Some people are so dumb, it oozes out and makes the rest of us dumb too, because not one single person could find words to say to her. I did ask the vet to do a service to the quad cities and spay her while she was there, but he said he couldn't legally do it, though he would like to.
4- Tastee Freez employees. Do they realize that its 89 degrees out and there are 76 people in line? The picnic tables are sticky and children are walking on them barefoot. Some douche bag is revving his motorcycle engine for no apparent reason while his "hot mama" gets him a banana split with extra strawberries. A pregnant teenager just went into labor and all I want is a freakin vanilla cone with some damned sprinkles on it. Quit rubbing the zits on your forehead, wash your hands, and pull the lever on the machine with gusto and I'll give you $2. You don't need to pick up that sharpie and write down the order. I can walk you through this step by step. Do any adults work there?
5- Ice Cream Truck Drivers. My nephew is 3. If you see him running out towards the street by himself, don't stop and throw it into reverse. A) your dumbass is liable to hit him. B) He's 3! He doesn't carry cash. Give him time to get on Etrade and sell some stock, then his parents can take him to the bank to do a withdrawl from his college savings. Better yet, do you take money orders? He's a big fan of Western Union.
***Note- My nephew did not run into the street, but he was on his way to it as my Brother saw it all and chased after him and caught him before something tragic happened. No foul parenting was involved.***
And there we have it. Pet Peeves of West Ending it. I can put up with beer cans scattered in peoples yards, dirty kids of all genders running around without clothes after the street lights come on, I even grit my teeth when a parent is yelling at their kids at 10:30 pm in Hy-Vee because they are tired and crying. But the above types of people are the ones that I wish would move to Rock Island. It's just a hop, skip, and a jump over the Centennial Bridge. And who knows, maybe they'll fall off on the way.
1- People that smoke at entrances to restaurants, grocery stores, or any other public building. Step outside the fact that it is illegal, is your shopping experience so intense that it qualifies for a smoke break? Or do you just get off on great deals and have to pause for 5 minutes then get back into it? I don't care that you smoke. I care when it affects me. Such as at the Rockingham Hy-Vee when I am trying to get a Redbox. Don't talk to me, don't touch my baby, put out your cancer stick and get back in the building to oogle the cheap prices of the Keystones and slim jims.
2- People that park in the fire lane. You know, the fat asses that really need to park on the opposite side of the lot to get that exercise? Or the people that need the quick get away from the dollar tree. Seriously, I've been to Walmart enough times where an ambulance was needed and the fire truck parking lot was full of people waiting for their wives or children to get their Valutime Cheese Puffs. Oh and by the way 95% of them were smoking.
3- People that yell at public officials for doing their job. This story is kind of ridiculous and isn't the only representation of my opinion, but here goes. I was at the Humane Society getting a rabies shot for my dog and some young female patron behind me was noticing an Animal Control Truck coming in. The officer got out of the truck and pulled out a 6 month old Golden Retriever and was carrying it inside to which the young idiot blurted out "You just stole someone's dog! Just wanted to let you know that!" First off, no shit. Thank you captain obvious. But lets use our thinking brain here. How do we know that dog wasn't running the streets terrorizing innocent citizens or the owner was beating it? I looked at her, as did everyone else, with an incredulous look. And then she did it. The Maury Povich, hand on the hip, wiggling her head back and forth, whipped her hair around then looked away like we are the ones with the problem. Some people are so dumb, it oozes out and makes the rest of us dumb too, because not one single person could find words to say to her. I did ask the vet to do a service to the quad cities and spay her while she was there, but he said he couldn't legally do it, though he would like to.
4- Tastee Freez employees. Do they realize that its 89 degrees out and there are 76 people in line? The picnic tables are sticky and children are walking on them barefoot. Some douche bag is revving his motorcycle engine for no apparent reason while his "hot mama" gets him a banana split with extra strawberries. A pregnant teenager just went into labor and all I want is a freakin vanilla cone with some damned sprinkles on it. Quit rubbing the zits on your forehead, wash your hands, and pull the lever on the machine with gusto and I'll give you $2. You don't need to pick up that sharpie and write down the order. I can walk you through this step by step. Do any adults work there?
5- Ice Cream Truck Drivers. My nephew is 3. If you see him running out towards the street by himself, don't stop and throw it into reverse. A) your dumbass is liable to hit him. B) He's 3! He doesn't carry cash. Give him time to get on Etrade and sell some stock, then his parents can take him to the bank to do a withdrawl from his college savings. Better yet, do you take money orders? He's a big fan of Western Union.
***Note- My nephew did not run into the street, but he was on his way to it as my Brother saw it all and chased after him and caught him before something tragic happened. No foul parenting was involved.***
And there we have it. Pet Peeves of West Ending it. I can put up with beer cans scattered in peoples yards, dirty kids of all genders running around without clothes after the street lights come on, I even grit my teeth when a parent is yelling at their kids at 10:30 pm in Hy-Vee because they are tired and crying. But the above types of people are the ones that I wish would move to Rock Island. It's just a hop, skip, and a jump over the Centennial Bridge. And who knows, maybe they'll fall off on the way.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Man up!
Okay this will be a rant. Hang on to your seat. I'm angry.
Yesterday it was cruddy, rainy, sleety, snowy and any other verb for late winter weather you wish to insert. I got my mail quickly then went inside.
Today, it is cold, cloudy, gray, and sad outside. At around noonish I opened my front door to check to see if the mail has been dropped off yet. It hadn't. But I did find something peculiar sitting on my bench. It was a waterlogged piece of paper. Curious, I picked it up. It was a Warning from Animal Control.
Apparently, someone complained about the amount of dog crap in my yard. Also, according to the paper, I needed to license my dogs. My BS meter immediatley started pinging. Only 1 of my dogs needs their license renewed. Anyway, I went to my back door and noticed, yeah, okay, I see some turds. I could probably go out this weekend and rake. My eyes went back to the paper in my hand.
"Excement must be removed from the yard IMMEDIATLEY." I checked the date at the top of the paper. This warning was issued the 19th (Yesterday). They were coming back to check on this situation on the 20th (today).
So, they either expected me to pick up crap in the pouring cold rain, or get it done during business hours today which makes no sense. While there are a great number of people that are home during business hours, I am typically not one of them. Animal Control only operates until 6pm Monday through Friday.
So, I gave them a ring. Explained to them that I happened to come across this note just today around noon and explained that the crap cannot be removed from my yard if they were coming right away. (I didn't say crap to them. I said poop. They kept calling it excrement, but I refuse to hold myself to such high class. My yard is full of crap afterall.)
They asked if I could remove it by tomorrow. Even though its a pain in my ass, I said yeah it could and they told me an officer would be out tomorrow to make sure it got picked up. So, once Mike got home from work, I put on my shoes and donned a shovel and a rake and went to town. Once I got out there, I admit, there was a lot of poo that was caked in over the winter, but from a distance, you wouldn't even be able to tell if it was mud or poo. I've concluded that the neighbor that moved in next door must've complained. Which brings me to the real reason I am mad.
Am I so intimidating that you can't knock on my door if the crap is bothering you? Seriously. I'm not that bad of a person. If you ask, I'll clean it. Typically, the poop from the winter gets cleaned up in the early spring but coincidentally, I was in the hospital and recovering from surgery in the month of March. Sorry we've slipped so far into April but we've had so much damn rain that I'm not going to go into the back yard to clean it up. I want to wait until it dries out so it won't be so heavy. Also, I have a 4 month old to care for and my husband works long hours so I think the more irresponsible thing to do would be to leave my child unattended to scrape up doo doo in my yard. Because then you would called Child Protective Services and DHS would leave a note on my door about the baby pee and come back the next day to check on it.
When it comes down to it, I admit it is my fault. I am a dog owner and it is my reponsibility to keep up on this task. But where is the neighborly compassion? Why can't you grow a pair and come to my directly instead of a 3rd party. We talk over the fence. We're cordial and polite. I've even said if you have a problem with my dogs let me know and we'll fix it. No, instead, I went into my back yard this afternoon and rustled up the poop. Also rustling up a stench. SO, in the end, now the poop is gone, but both of our yards now smell like rotten logs when it didn't before. Happy?
Yesterday it was cruddy, rainy, sleety, snowy and any other verb for late winter weather you wish to insert. I got my mail quickly then went inside.
Today, it is cold, cloudy, gray, and sad outside. At around noonish I opened my front door to check to see if the mail has been dropped off yet. It hadn't. But I did find something peculiar sitting on my bench. It was a waterlogged piece of paper. Curious, I picked it up. It was a Warning from Animal Control.
Apparently, someone complained about the amount of dog crap in my yard. Also, according to the paper, I needed to license my dogs. My BS meter immediatley started pinging. Only 1 of my dogs needs their license renewed. Anyway, I went to my back door and noticed, yeah, okay, I see some turds. I could probably go out this weekend and rake. My eyes went back to the paper in my hand.
"Excement must be removed from the yard IMMEDIATLEY." I checked the date at the top of the paper. This warning was issued the 19th (Yesterday). They were coming back to check on this situation on the 20th (today).
So, they either expected me to pick up crap in the pouring cold rain, or get it done during business hours today which makes no sense. While there are a great number of people that are home during business hours, I am typically not one of them. Animal Control only operates until 6pm Monday through Friday.
So, I gave them a ring. Explained to them that I happened to come across this note just today around noon and explained that the crap cannot be removed from my yard if they were coming right away. (I didn't say crap to them. I said poop. They kept calling it excrement, but I refuse to hold myself to such high class. My yard is full of crap afterall.)
They asked if I could remove it by tomorrow. Even though its a pain in my ass, I said yeah it could and they told me an officer would be out tomorrow to make sure it got picked up. So, once Mike got home from work, I put on my shoes and donned a shovel and a rake and went to town. Once I got out there, I admit, there was a lot of poo that was caked in over the winter, but from a distance, you wouldn't even be able to tell if it was mud or poo. I've concluded that the neighbor that moved in next door must've complained. Which brings me to the real reason I am mad.
Am I so intimidating that you can't knock on my door if the crap is bothering you? Seriously. I'm not that bad of a person. If you ask, I'll clean it. Typically, the poop from the winter gets cleaned up in the early spring but coincidentally, I was in the hospital and recovering from surgery in the month of March. Sorry we've slipped so far into April but we've had so much damn rain that I'm not going to go into the back yard to clean it up. I want to wait until it dries out so it won't be so heavy. Also, I have a 4 month old to care for and my husband works long hours so I think the more irresponsible thing to do would be to leave my child unattended to scrape up doo doo in my yard. Because then you would called Child Protective Services and DHS would leave a note on my door about the baby pee and come back the next day to check on it.
When it comes down to it, I admit it is my fault. I am a dog owner and it is my reponsibility to keep up on this task. But where is the neighborly compassion? Why can't you grow a pair and come to my directly instead of a 3rd party. We talk over the fence. We're cordial and polite. I've even said if you have a problem with my dogs let me know and we'll fix it. No, instead, I went into my back yard this afternoon and rustled up the poop. Also rustling up a stench. SO, in the end, now the poop is gone, but both of our yards now smell like rotten logs when it didn't before. Happy?
Monday, March 21, 2011
can't i just have a NORMAL visit to the hospital?
Okay, so Sebby had to go to Urgent care the other night. He's fine. Onto the more important story of that night.
I had to call my big brother Matt up to give Sebby and I a ride to Urgent Care since Mike was working.
Under Dr orders I am not to lift over 10lbs for another 2 weeks so Matt carried Sebby's carseat around for me. Once we arrived at UC, Matt sat down and got Sebs out of his seat and he was fussing a bit. So I was registering Sebby and Matt asks across the room when the last time I fed him was. I informed him that it was probably time for another bottle and Matt, the seasoned veteran of bottling formula, prepared and began to feed Sebby while I answered a slew of questions about what Sebby's problem was that night. After 20 questions, I joined my bro and my baby in the waiting room.
Remember a few blogs ago when I mentioned that it pays off to have a baby if you hate waiting around? Ding ding ding it worked again!!! Since Sebby eas having breathing issues at home, we skipped the hour and 45 minute wait and were called right in!!!
So Matt carried Sebby back again for me. We were in triage answering more questions when a nurse poked her head in the door. Her eyes darted back and forth between Matt and myself before she finally singled me out and whispered "Your husband Mike is here.". And she got another peak at Matt before mouthing the words "Is it okay if he comes back here?"
I gave her what I am sure to be a look almost as confused as hers and replied "why wouldn't it be okay for my husband to come back here?"
And with that, she said okay and Mike strolled in a few moments later and took his son from my brother.
Now you probably already see where this was going. I, in a state of maternal shock was oblivious to any funny business that was unraveling so I will continue and share Mike's side of the story.
After traveling roughly 45 minutes from Muscavegas to D-port, Mike briskly entered the UC waiting room and went to the check in desk and stated "Hi, my wife and son are here. I believe they may have just been taken back?".
A nurse and the receptionist looked at Mike, then each other, then in the direction of the triage office, then back to Mike. One of them that had the brain that they were sharing for the day spoke up and said "what was your name again?"
"Mike Jones"
"And you are her...?"
"Husband."
And at that point one of them went back and awkwardly tried to send a message to me in a 4x5 room that she must have expected no one else to hear.
Once she returned, she hesitantly said,
"Oh-kay, you can follow me back to triage.". And she looked at the other nurse who apparently had the look on her face of a cow staring at an oncoming train. It finally clicked for Mike and he shouted out"He's my brother in law!"
A wave of relief came over the pair of scrub wearers and one of them gladly opened the door to triage for Mike.
The next thing the nurse says to me is:
"Oh I was so confused! I thought we were going to have a domestic!"
If you have ever met or seen my husband, you would agree with this lady that obviously my husband MUST work out just to prepare for his random street fights that break out because he is one angry looking individual. And he's angry because stargate SG-1 was cancelled a few years ago and he hasn't found a healthy way to deal with this devastation.
Or on the other hand, my brother Matt isn't exactly small, but his lenten diet hasn't given him the energy it would require to snap Mike's tibia. Seriously. He gave up meats and processed foods for lent. Gross.
So anyway, this nurse goes off about how weird it is that my brother was taking care of my kid and that her brother would NEVER do that for her and she doesn't want him to. Well good for you lady.
I am very blessed to have such a supportive family that I can lean on in my time of need, but please people. Don't confuse us with those nasty people on Springer that do unspeakable things with each other. We ain't THAT close!
I had to call my big brother Matt up to give Sebby and I a ride to Urgent Care since Mike was working.
Under Dr orders I am not to lift over 10lbs for another 2 weeks so Matt carried Sebby's carseat around for me. Once we arrived at UC, Matt sat down and got Sebs out of his seat and he was fussing a bit. So I was registering Sebby and Matt asks across the room when the last time I fed him was. I informed him that it was probably time for another bottle and Matt, the seasoned veteran of bottling formula, prepared and began to feed Sebby while I answered a slew of questions about what Sebby's problem was that night. After 20 questions, I joined my bro and my baby in the waiting room.
Remember a few blogs ago when I mentioned that it pays off to have a baby if you hate waiting around? Ding ding ding it worked again!!! Since Sebby eas having breathing issues at home, we skipped the hour and 45 minute wait and were called right in!!!
So Matt carried Sebby back again for me. We were in triage answering more questions when a nurse poked her head in the door. Her eyes darted back and forth between Matt and myself before she finally singled me out and whispered "Your husband Mike is here.". And she got another peak at Matt before mouthing the words "Is it okay if he comes back here?"
I gave her what I am sure to be a look almost as confused as hers and replied "why wouldn't it be okay for my husband to come back here?"
And with that, she said okay and Mike strolled in a few moments later and took his son from my brother.
Now you probably already see where this was going. I, in a state of maternal shock was oblivious to any funny business that was unraveling so I will continue and share Mike's side of the story.
After traveling roughly 45 minutes from Muscavegas to D-port, Mike briskly entered the UC waiting room and went to the check in desk and stated "Hi, my wife and son are here. I believe they may have just been taken back?".
A nurse and the receptionist looked at Mike, then each other, then in the direction of the triage office, then back to Mike. One of them that had the brain that they were sharing for the day spoke up and said "what was your name again?"
"Mike Jones"
"And you are her...?"
"Husband."
And at that point one of them went back and awkwardly tried to send a message to me in a 4x5 room that she must have expected no one else to hear.
Once she returned, she hesitantly said,
"Oh-kay, you can follow me back to triage.". And she looked at the other nurse who apparently had the look on her face of a cow staring at an oncoming train. It finally clicked for Mike and he shouted out"He's my brother in law!"
A wave of relief came over the pair of scrub wearers and one of them gladly opened the door to triage for Mike.
The next thing the nurse says to me is:
"Oh I was so confused! I thought we were going to have a domestic!"
If you have ever met or seen my husband, you would agree with this lady that obviously my husband MUST work out just to prepare for his random street fights that break out because he is one angry looking individual. And he's angry because stargate SG-1 was cancelled a few years ago and he hasn't found a healthy way to deal with this devastation.
Or on the other hand, my brother Matt isn't exactly small, but his lenten diet hasn't given him the energy it would require to snap Mike's tibia. Seriously. He gave up meats and processed foods for lent. Gross.
So anyway, this nurse goes off about how weird it is that my brother was taking care of my kid and that her brother would NEVER do that for her and she doesn't want him to. Well good for you lady.
I am very blessed to have such a supportive family that I can lean on in my time of need, but please people. Don't confuse us with those nasty people on Springer that do unspeakable things with each other. We ain't THAT close!
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Genesis Hilton
So, I've been in the hospital since last Wednesday, March 2nd, 2011. (thats two thousand and eleven because I don't give a crap)
Apparently a side effect of pregnancy is gall stones in my gallbladder. And a side effect of gallstones is if you stay in the hospital for 5 days they won't feed you. Thats right. I am limited to ice chips, yellow or green jello, chicken broth, popsicles, hot tea, grape juice or apple juice. Which when you haven't eaten in 5 days you may think to yourself "Hm, that sounds like a buffet!"
But everytime one of the teenage food deliverers enters my room i just hold my hand up and say no. I don't want it. I am so fricking hungry that if I can't have what I want, I won't eat anything at all. Maybe its to show my doctors just how whiny I can be. Maybe its because it all sounds so disgusting. "We won't feed you food, but here is all this sugar and salt! Bon Appetite!' Gross. Seriously. I don't know ANYONE that specifically makes yellow jello just to eat it.
My surgery is scheduled for Monday March 7th. I want to go home sooooo bad. I don't wish this on my worst enemy. I've been reduced to watching the same reruns of the Jersey Shore, ABC Family, I think I watched the last 15 minutes of Aladdin today, and just endless channel surfing which reassures a previous blog. I think you're dumb if you pay for cable tv.
They offer me a free paper every morning. I don't read it.
I know they are trying to make my stay here as nice as possible but honestly, when I come to a hospital I just want to be miserable. I don't want to enjoy this. I am already trying to make the best of a bad situation. But this situation is awful.
I can't care for my son. I don't even want him here. A hospital isn't a place for a 13 week old. My family has all be pitching in to help out which is nice but I still find a way to make it bad. I wish it was me caring for him. He has been on formula for the past week because I can't feed him and it really makes me angry everytime I see him and he gets fatter everyday from all the fillers they put in formula. His cheeks are sooo pudgy. His baby fat curls itself around his pacifier. He wasn't like that when I was caring for him. My husband tells me that his diapers are absolutely horrendous. He smells awful too.
I know this is the whiniest blog ever but like I tell everyone that has been visiting. I just sit here all day and stew. I do nothing. I wait. I watch the clock. I sip juice. I think about how much this sucks. I talk to nurses that come in. They always offer to bring me ice chips but you can only pretend its water flavored ice cream for so long.
So I'll end this rant now. I'm tired of whining but I can't stop. Facebook is lame.
Apparently a side effect of pregnancy is gall stones in my gallbladder. And a side effect of gallstones is if you stay in the hospital for 5 days they won't feed you. Thats right. I am limited to ice chips, yellow or green jello, chicken broth, popsicles, hot tea, grape juice or apple juice. Which when you haven't eaten in 5 days you may think to yourself "Hm, that sounds like a buffet!"
But everytime one of the teenage food deliverers enters my room i just hold my hand up and say no. I don't want it. I am so fricking hungry that if I can't have what I want, I won't eat anything at all. Maybe its to show my doctors just how whiny I can be. Maybe its because it all sounds so disgusting. "We won't feed you food, but here is all this sugar and salt! Bon Appetite!' Gross. Seriously. I don't know ANYONE that specifically makes yellow jello just to eat it.
My surgery is scheduled for Monday March 7th. I want to go home sooooo bad. I don't wish this on my worst enemy. I've been reduced to watching the same reruns of the Jersey Shore, ABC Family, I think I watched the last 15 minutes of Aladdin today, and just endless channel surfing which reassures a previous blog. I think you're dumb if you pay for cable tv.
They offer me a free paper every morning. I don't read it.
I know they are trying to make my stay here as nice as possible but honestly, when I come to a hospital I just want to be miserable. I don't want to enjoy this. I am already trying to make the best of a bad situation. But this situation is awful.
I can't care for my son. I don't even want him here. A hospital isn't a place for a 13 week old. My family has all be pitching in to help out which is nice but I still find a way to make it bad. I wish it was me caring for him. He has been on formula for the past week because I can't feed him and it really makes me angry everytime I see him and he gets fatter everyday from all the fillers they put in formula. His cheeks are sooo pudgy. His baby fat curls itself around his pacifier. He wasn't like that when I was caring for him. My husband tells me that his diapers are absolutely horrendous. He smells awful too.
I know this is the whiniest blog ever but like I tell everyone that has been visiting. I just sit here all day and stew. I do nothing. I wait. I watch the clock. I sip juice. I think about how much this sucks. I talk to nurses that come in. They always offer to bring me ice chips but you can only pretend its water flavored ice cream for so long.
So I'll end this rant now. I'm tired of whining but I can't stop. Facebook is lame.
Friday, March 4, 2011
wants to eats fewds
Okay. So I'm laid up in the hospital. They won't let me eat anything until after my surgery. So I haven't eaten anything since tuesday night. Here is a list I have compiled of things I want to eat.
Macaroni and cheese
Chocolate custard
Spaghetti and meatballs and garlic bread
Tacos
Popcorn
Chips and salsa
Mashed potatoes and gravy
Bread
Peanut butter and jelly sandwich
Ramen
California rolls
Vietnamese eggrolls
Butterburger and fries
Crispy chicken sandwich with lots of mayo
Cookies
Hungry hobo
Uuughh soo hungry.
Until then I will just pretend my ice chips are what I really want.
Macaroni and cheese
Chocolate custard
Spaghetti and meatballs and garlic bread
Tacos
Popcorn
Chips and salsa
Mashed potatoes and gravy
Bread
Peanut butter and jelly sandwich
Ramen
California rolls
Vietnamese eggrolls
Butterburger and fries
Crispy chicken sandwich with lots of mayo
Cookies
Hungry hobo
Uuughh soo hungry.
Until then I will just pretend my ice chips are what I really want.
Monday, February 28, 2011
I gots the foods poisoning.
Ugghhh. I'm going to recap the last week of my life for you. Hang on tight.
Sunday Morning 7:30am- Mom comes over. We load up my dogs and take them to the kennel for boarding.
8:00am- Finally leave the place after prying mom away from her dumb dogs. You should have seen her. It was pathetic. You would think they were leaving for Iraq.
8:45am- arrive at work to facilitate a quick fundraising meeting. I'm thinking this should take 20 minutes.
10:00am- running through the building dodging parishoners to get back to my car without being asked anymore questions.
10:30- pick mom up from her house
11:00am on the road an hour late :(
We were headed to Nashville TN. Yup. Me. Mike. Sebby. and Mom. The 4 best friends that anyone could have.
1:00pm- stopped at the Cracker Barrel in Morton IL for lunch with Mike's high school buddy.
3:00pm- back on the road
9:00pm- arrive in Clarksville TN to stay the night. I had White Castle for the first time in my life. Meh. I don't get it.
Monday Morning-
7:00am- Wake up Sebby. Pack up his million and one things
8:00am- head to Nashville
9:00am- Arrive at the Gaylord Opryland Resort and think "This place is HUGE!" Because it was.
So we get checked into our room. The let us check in early because we had a baby. Isn't that sweet of them? I'm going to start using my kid to get more cool things like that. Maybe board a plane first? Or pass the line at Texas Roadhouse?
Anywho, The time stamps from here on out get questionable. So bear with me.
Monday Morning- Try to navigate the many halls and atriums of the hotel with my mom and Sebby while Mike goes to class at his Convention.
Lunch was a bunch of different paninis, cous cous- very delicious. home made chips that were under a heat lamp but cold for some reason, and water.
Hang out some more
Cocktail reception- I had bottled water, chips and salsa, tiny pieces of ny strip steak on triangle crackers, this weird little thai salad served in a martini glass, and eggrolls that were filled with shredded buffalo chicken.
After the reception I had a calzone with meatsauce over it for dinner at the hotel pizza restaurant.
Bedtime
Tuesday Morning
Ate breakfast. Had a delicious muffin with some weird crumbly stuff, fruit, yogurt and milk
Went to the opening session and saw Lee Greenwood peform. Awesome.
Went to the trade show. Ate Custard cake, sweet potato fries, pub burger, tenderloin sandwich, chicken sandwich, smashed potatoes with cheese and sour cream, brownie sundae, Custard Nachos, ketchup (I'm a squeezer and so is Sebby), blueberry and strawberry lemonade, lime ice, bottled water, apple chips, mozzarella sticks, cheese curds, onion rings, cake batter concrete mixer, and a couple more things but I forget what.
After the trade show, went for a walk with Sebby and mom
Tuesday evening- went to the wildhorse saloon. Had pulled pork, grilled chicken, steak, deep fried pickles, and water. Watched the Craig Morgan Concert.
In bed at midnight. Really exhausted and a slight tummy ache. Perhaps I ate too much today?
Wednesday morning- skipped breakfast and laid in bed
skipped the closing session and laid in bed
skipped lunch and laid in bed
1:00pm- tried to walk around but it didn't last. Went back to bed.
6:00pm- Mike made me get out of bed, put on my dress and some makeup and go down to the Gala Dinner Cocktail party. Drank bottled water. Slowly.
7:00pm was seated for Gala dinner.
Waited until they served the salad and asked Mike to walk me back to the room.
Went back to bed
8:30- blew chunks
9:00- blew chunks
10:30- blew chunks
11:15- Mike came back and I blew chunks
Midnight- more of the same
2:00am- trots cha cha cha
3:00am- cha cha'd some more
5:00am- Baby woke up and I blew chunks and trotted.
7:00am- start packing for the car ride home. with interuptions every 5 minutes.
9:00am- back in the car for the journey home
we stopped at 1 gas station and 1 rest stop. I refused to get out of the car both time. I will not EVER use a public restroom while on the road. Sometimes I hate myself.
6:00pm- back home.
All day Friday in bed with multiple bathroom breaks
Saturday- in bed most of the morning. Went to Matt's house for a couple of hours, then back home and watched tv until 4 when I went to Grandma's for her party. They were serving Hot dogs and chili with all those fixins, chips and dip, and candy out the yin yang. I had 2 pieces of licorice and water.
Went to Comedy Sportz. I had the water with a side of comedy.
Sunday morning- Sebby's baptism. We served pulled pork sandwiches, pasta salad, baked beans, chips and cake. I ate 2 bites of my sammy, a few chips, a serving of beans and a serving of pasta and a root beer.
Went home after that and laid in bed for a while.
Had sketti for dinner.
I feel much better today. So after all that stuff I ate last week. Want to know what the culprit was? Well... Mom and I both got sick so we thought it could have been anything. But then on Sunday, we found out that Mike's friend was sick too. Ladies and Gentlemen. I got food poisoning from the Cracker Barrel while vacationing at the husband's Convention for a restaurant chain I cannot name. Just my rotten luck. It was a crappy week.
Sunday Morning 7:30am- Mom comes over. We load up my dogs and take them to the kennel for boarding.
8:00am- Finally leave the place after prying mom away from her dumb dogs. You should have seen her. It was pathetic. You would think they were leaving for Iraq.
8:45am- arrive at work to facilitate a quick fundraising meeting. I'm thinking this should take 20 minutes.
10:00am- running through the building dodging parishoners to get back to my car without being asked anymore questions.
10:30- pick mom up from her house
11:00am on the road an hour late :(
We were headed to Nashville TN. Yup. Me. Mike. Sebby. and Mom. The 4 best friends that anyone could have.
1:00pm- stopped at the Cracker Barrel in Morton IL for lunch with Mike's high school buddy.
3:00pm- back on the road
9:00pm- arrive in Clarksville TN to stay the night. I had White Castle for the first time in my life. Meh. I don't get it.
Monday Morning-
7:00am- Wake up Sebby. Pack up his million and one things
8:00am- head to Nashville
9:00am- Arrive at the Gaylord Opryland Resort and think "This place is HUGE!" Because it was.
So we get checked into our room. The let us check in early because we had a baby. Isn't that sweet of them? I'm going to start using my kid to get more cool things like that. Maybe board a plane first? Or pass the line at Texas Roadhouse?
Anywho, The time stamps from here on out get questionable. So bear with me.
Monday Morning- Try to navigate the many halls and atriums of the hotel with my mom and Sebby while Mike goes to class at his Convention.
Lunch was a bunch of different paninis, cous cous- very delicious. home made chips that were under a heat lamp but cold for some reason, and water.
Hang out some more
Cocktail reception- I had bottled water, chips and salsa, tiny pieces of ny strip steak on triangle crackers, this weird little thai salad served in a martini glass, and eggrolls that were filled with shredded buffalo chicken.
After the reception I had a calzone with meatsauce over it for dinner at the hotel pizza restaurant.
Bedtime
Tuesday Morning
Ate breakfast. Had a delicious muffin with some weird crumbly stuff, fruit, yogurt and milk
Went to the opening session and saw Lee Greenwood peform. Awesome.
Went to the trade show. Ate Custard cake, sweet potato fries, pub burger, tenderloin sandwich, chicken sandwich, smashed potatoes with cheese and sour cream, brownie sundae, Custard Nachos, ketchup (I'm a squeezer and so is Sebby), blueberry and strawberry lemonade, lime ice, bottled water, apple chips, mozzarella sticks, cheese curds, onion rings, cake batter concrete mixer, and a couple more things but I forget what.
After the trade show, went for a walk with Sebby and mom
Tuesday evening- went to the wildhorse saloon. Had pulled pork, grilled chicken, steak, deep fried pickles, and water. Watched the Craig Morgan Concert.
In bed at midnight. Really exhausted and a slight tummy ache. Perhaps I ate too much today?
Wednesday morning- skipped breakfast and laid in bed
skipped the closing session and laid in bed
skipped lunch and laid in bed
1:00pm- tried to walk around but it didn't last. Went back to bed.
6:00pm- Mike made me get out of bed, put on my dress and some makeup and go down to the Gala Dinner Cocktail party. Drank bottled water. Slowly.
7:00pm was seated for Gala dinner.
Waited until they served the salad and asked Mike to walk me back to the room.
Went back to bed
8:30- blew chunks
9:00- blew chunks
10:30- blew chunks
11:15- Mike came back and I blew chunks
Midnight- more of the same
2:00am- trots cha cha cha
3:00am- cha cha'd some more
5:00am- Baby woke up and I blew chunks and trotted.
7:00am- start packing for the car ride home. with interuptions every 5 minutes.
9:00am- back in the car for the journey home
we stopped at 1 gas station and 1 rest stop. I refused to get out of the car both time. I will not EVER use a public restroom while on the road. Sometimes I hate myself.
6:00pm- back home.
All day Friday in bed with multiple bathroom breaks
Saturday- in bed most of the morning. Went to Matt's house for a couple of hours, then back home and watched tv until 4 when I went to Grandma's for her party. They were serving Hot dogs and chili with all those fixins, chips and dip, and candy out the yin yang. I had 2 pieces of licorice and water.
Went to Comedy Sportz. I had the water with a side of comedy.
Sunday morning- Sebby's baptism. We served pulled pork sandwiches, pasta salad, baked beans, chips and cake. I ate 2 bites of my sammy, a few chips, a serving of beans and a serving of pasta and a root beer.
Went home after that and laid in bed for a while.
Had sketti for dinner.
I feel much better today. So after all that stuff I ate last week. Want to know what the culprit was? Well... Mom and I both got sick so we thought it could have been anything. But then on Sunday, we found out that Mike's friend was sick too. Ladies and Gentlemen. I got food poisoning from the Cracker Barrel while vacationing at the husband's Convention for a restaurant chain I cannot name. Just my rotten luck. It was a crappy week.
Monday, February 14, 2011
Procrastination turns into production
I hate working sometimes. I am sure I am the only person on earth that procrastinates, but today i just wasn't feeling like getting stuff done. My work day started at 9am. Here is what I did today at work so far:
Went and talked to the Secretary for a while
Made an ass of myself to my boss yet again
Emailed parents
went looking for my boss all over the building, but instead found a bunny burrowed into a snowbank against the window in the day chapel
Looked at the bunny
Went back into my office and found my boss
Talked to my boss
Wrote out a to do list
Called my cousin
Worked on attendance
Looked at my to do list
Made lunch for all my co workers (Sandwiches and heated up leftover mostaccioli from the weekend)
Ate lunch
Did the lunch dishes
Washed the dishes of a co worker that didn't eat lunch with us
Washed my water bottle
filled up said water bottle
Drank said water
Looked at my to do list
looked for a book that I brought into my office last week to work on projects from last week that are on my to do list
Decided it was time to clean up my office
Hunted down a box for recycling old books and papers
organized one of my bookshelves
went through a bunch of old crap
Threw some stuff away
Moved my file cabinet that I never use
Moved my heavy desk a foot and a half to the left
moved my monitor to sit on top of the PCU
Looked at my to do list
poo'd
checked one thing off my to do list
decided to blog
So here we are at the end of that list. I got to thinking about how funny it is that I wanted to clean my office. Really, its hilarious.
2 years ago, My office became messy. While I was in Iowa City for a meeting, apparently some representative from the parish insurance company did a surprise visit to walk around the building and write up any "potential hazards" in the building. There were 2. The first is that the parish stores the casket cart for funerals in a doorway that is literally only used for funerals. The second that my office was messy. I admit that it was sort of a pit, but there was CLEARLY a safe walkway from my door to my desk. Apparently if there were a fire, I would be too stupid to leave my office and instead panic and run around tripping over everything.
Fast forward to this year on my maternity leave. Merry Christmas! I got written up again. But I firmly state that this time, my office was WAY cleaner than the last time I got written up. Still sloppy, but everything was stacked and shoved up against a wall so there was no need for a safety path.
So today, I noticed almost immediately that if you organize your bookshelves first, it makes everything else look better!! I also learned that if a binder full of curriculum is more than 5 years old, I won't use it. Also, I won't use anything that I haven't looked at in 2 and a half years. Which is basically Every other binder on the shelf.
And the whole time I kept thinking, why do we save stuff? Why do we keep the clutter? When I was pregnant, I wanted to throw everything away to make more space for the baby's stuff. I'm glad I did it because not only do we have more room for baby items, I don't have stupid trinkets from my childhood, I can just fill the house with his stupid trinkets.
But now back to my office. Not that my office wasn't functional before, but now I have a renewed sense of work ethic. I feel like I can work for the next hour! I'm so proud of myself!
Went and talked to the Secretary for a while
Made an ass of myself to my boss yet again
Emailed parents
went looking for my boss all over the building, but instead found a bunny burrowed into a snowbank against the window in the day chapel
Looked at the bunny
Went back into my office and found my boss
Talked to my boss
Wrote out a to do list
Called my cousin
Worked on attendance
Looked at my to do list
Made lunch for all my co workers (Sandwiches and heated up leftover mostaccioli from the weekend)
Ate lunch
Did the lunch dishes
Washed the dishes of a co worker that didn't eat lunch with us
Washed my water bottle
filled up said water bottle
Drank said water
Looked at my to do list
looked for a book that I brought into my office last week to work on projects from last week that are on my to do list
Decided it was time to clean up my office
Hunted down a box for recycling old books and papers
organized one of my bookshelves
went through a bunch of old crap
Threw some stuff away
Moved my file cabinet that I never use
Moved my heavy desk a foot and a half to the left
moved my monitor to sit on top of the PCU
Looked at my to do list
poo'd
checked one thing off my to do list
decided to blog
So here we are at the end of that list. I got to thinking about how funny it is that I wanted to clean my office. Really, its hilarious.
2 years ago, My office became messy. While I was in Iowa City for a meeting, apparently some representative from the parish insurance company did a surprise visit to walk around the building and write up any "potential hazards" in the building. There were 2. The first is that the parish stores the casket cart for funerals in a doorway that is literally only used for funerals. The second that my office was messy. I admit that it was sort of a pit, but there was CLEARLY a safe walkway from my door to my desk. Apparently if there were a fire, I would be too stupid to leave my office and instead panic and run around tripping over everything.
Fast forward to this year on my maternity leave. Merry Christmas! I got written up again. But I firmly state that this time, my office was WAY cleaner than the last time I got written up. Still sloppy, but everything was stacked and shoved up against a wall so there was no need for a safety path.
So today, I noticed almost immediately that if you organize your bookshelves first, it makes everything else look better!! I also learned that if a binder full of curriculum is more than 5 years old, I won't use it. Also, I won't use anything that I haven't looked at in 2 and a half years. Which is basically Every other binder on the shelf.
And the whole time I kept thinking, why do we save stuff? Why do we keep the clutter? When I was pregnant, I wanted to throw everything away to make more space for the baby's stuff. I'm glad I did it because not only do we have more room for baby items, I don't have stupid trinkets from my childhood, I can just fill the house with his stupid trinkets.
But now back to my office. Not that my office wasn't functional before, but now I have a renewed sense of work ethic. I feel like I can work for the next hour! I'm so proud of myself!
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Holiday Schmoliday
My friend Annie posted a blog this morning referencing Valentine's day. I had lost all track of my calendar and didn't realize that it was coming up so quickly. But then again, it doesn't really matter that much.
My husband is cheap. The first 3 years of our relationship, Valentine's day presents were always a day late and half price. Economically thinking, it made sense. Why pay full price for chocolate, when the next day, the same chocolate has to be sold off because of it's packaging? Or the stuffed Animals, you can get 2 for the price of 1?
So 2 years ago, I made a decision in my relationship. No gifts. Unless it's Christmas or my birthday. That means no Anniversary gifts for either of us, no birthday gifts for Mike (he prefers it this way), and certainly no Valentine's day gifts.
Part of my reasoning is the irritation of receiving half priced unwanted crap every year. They say it's the thought that counts, but really there was no thought behind it. Mike knew after years of conditioning by the greeting card industry, he had to get his girlfriend something pink or red or fluffy or chocolatey for the February holiday. So he obliged, only half assed.
As for Anniversary gifts, flowers die, I don't wear jewelry, and sex is free.
Mike is the hardest person to shop for in the world. No joke. Find me someone harder to shop for that doesn't like sports, doesn't have a hobby, doesn't collect anything, and if he really needs something, he just goes out and buys it. This makes Christmas especially hard. So in reality for Christmas, I buy him stuff that he thinks would be neat, but I'll end up using it. As for his birthday, see the Anniversary reference.
I pick out my own birthday gift, but for Christmas, he has to shop for me. We only spend $50 on each other which makes it even more challenging.
So, how does a girl survive without a Valentine's day gift? Easy, I make up for it for him all year long by buying myself ridiculous crap like sewing stuff, yarn, crafty things and food. He never says a word. So while you may think it's messed up, believe me. It works out perfectly for the both of us. Especially the Anniversary reference. Bow Chicka Wow Wow!
My husband is cheap. The first 3 years of our relationship, Valentine's day presents were always a day late and half price. Economically thinking, it made sense. Why pay full price for chocolate, when the next day, the same chocolate has to be sold off because of it's packaging? Or the stuffed Animals, you can get 2 for the price of 1?
So 2 years ago, I made a decision in my relationship. No gifts. Unless it's Christmas or my birthday. That means no Anniversary gifts for either of us, no birthday gifts for Mike (he prefers it this way), and certainly no Valentine's day gifts.
Part of my reasoning is the irritation of receiving half priced unwanted crap every year. They say it's the thought that counts, but really there was no thought behind it. Mike knew after years of conditioning by the greeting card industry, he had to get his girlfriend something pink or red or fluffy or chocolatey for the February holiday. So he obliged, only half assed.
As for Anniversary gifts, flowers die, I don't wear jewelry, and sex is free.
Mike is the hardest person to shop for in the world. No joke. Find me someone harder to shop for that doesn't like sports, doesn't have a hobby, doesn't collect anything, and if he really needs something, he just goes out and buys it. This makes Christmas especially hard. So in reality for Christmas, I buy him stuff that he thinks would be neat, but I'll end up using it. As for his birthday, see the Anniversary reference.
I pick out my own birthday gift, but for Christmas, he has to shop for me. We only spend $50 on each other which makes it even more challenging.
So, how does a girl survive without a Valentine's day gift? Easy, I make up for it for him all year long by buying myself ridiculous crap like sewing stuff, yarn, crafty things and food. He never says a word. So while you may think it's messed up, believe me. It works out perfectly for the both of us. Especially the Anniversary reference. Bow Chicka Wow Wow!
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Flashback
So this is blog worthy.
I started out my morning just as every other morning. Asleep. My alarm went off at 645 because I had to go to work this morning. So I turned it off and closed my eyes again. At about 710, my phone was ringing. I squinted at the screen to see it say Msgr. Oh fuck, my boss is calling.
When I worked at channel 6, it wasn't uncommon to sleep past my alarm and get a call from an irritated coworker. ***enter my flashback***
Even though I wasn't supposed to be at work until 745, I was in full freakout mode.
"Hi!!! I'm getting out of bed right now, I'm on my way, I wasn't sleeping! Hello!?"
Msgr was very confused at this point. I was tearing the bedsheets off of myself and my eyes were still closed.
"Uhm, Julia? It snowed out here, what is the weather like in town?"
My response? "It's dark".
Who the hell says that!? Apparently I do. So now he was even more confused then before. So I then opened my eyes and looked out the window. "Holy crap, it snowed again!". If my boss doesn't think I'm an idiot, it would be a miracle.
Seriously, please don't have conversations with me first thing in the morning.
So anyway, my boss is a self proclaimed "snice-aphobe" meaning he is afraid of snow and ice. So he ended up telling me not to rush into work. So I put my jammies back on and crawled back in bed to tell dear husband the good news. His response?
"Damn your job is too easy". And then he farted. The end.
I started out my morning just as every other morning. Asleep. My alarm went off at 645 because I had to go to work this morning. So I turned it off and closed my eyes again. At about 710, my phone was ringing. I squinted at the screen to see it say Msgr. Oh fuck, my boss is calling.
When I worked at channel 6, it wasn't uncommon to sleep past my alarm and get a call from an irritated coworker. ***enter my flashback***
Even though I wasn't supposed to be at work until 745, I was in full freakout mode.
"Hi!!! I'm getting out of bed right now, I'm on my way, I wasn't sleeping! Hello!?"
Msgr was very confused at this point. I was tearing the bedsheets off of myself and my eyes were still closed.
"Uhm, Julia? It snowed out here, what is the weather like in town?"
My response? "It's dark".
Who the hell says that!? Apparently I do. So now he was even more confused then before. So I then opened my eyes and looked out the window. "Holy crap, it snowed again!". If my boss doesn't think I'm an idiot, it would be a miracle.
Seriously, please don't have conversations with me first thing in the morning.
So anyway, my boss is a self proclaimed "snice-aphobe" meaning he is afraid of snow and ice. So he ended up telling me not to rush into work. So I put my jammies back on and crawled back in bed to tell dear husband the good news. His response?
"Damn your job is too easy". And then he farted. The end.
Monday, January 31, 2011
3 Funerals and a Blizzard
The blizzard adds the "fun" to funeral at St. Anns. For some reason people are just dying to get into our cemetary this week!
Death has always been freakishly intriging to me. Although I am afraid to get near anything deceased, I am obsessed with pouring over details that surround how someone dies. I think its human nature to be insanely curious over the unknown that is the end of living. Or maybe its just me?
I've never had to face the death of anyone terribly close to me except my Grandfather. And even his death I escaped the hardcore greiving that would have been his funeral. I went on vacation in Florida. He died 15 minutes before we boarded the plane. Grandma had informed us that she would hold off the funeral until we got back home in a week because that's how Grandpa wanted it. Well, by the time we landed, she had changed her mind. We had to decide if we wanted to hop on a plane and go back or spend the rest of the week on vacation. Due to the fact that we were with my at the time 1 and a half year old nephew and 3 and a half year old niece, we decided it would be best to stay on vacation. Our logic, they were really excited and happy. It made more sense to stay and be happy than explain how we had to go back home to be sad. It made sense then and still makes sense to us now. There's more to the story that I don't care to share but in the end, Grandpa loved those kids and wanted them to enjoy life and not worry about him.
So, working at a church has been interesting. The great celebration of life is all around. We have between 12-15 funerals a year which means 12-15 church lady lunches. That's right. The staff of St. Ann's, I think, can be classified as funeral crashers. This week, we will crash 3. And its only FEBRUARY!!! I'm hoping for an abundance of leftovers to last through next week!
Its awful, i know. But those ladies just cook so well!!!! They mainly bring a variety of side salads and pasta salads and of course, a TON of desserts! My favs include cheesy potatoes, mashed potatoes and gravy, asian salad with ramen, and baked beans. Sometimes they just have cold cust sandwiches and chips which is awesome too, but we usually get those in the summer. Hot food is for winter.
It reminds me of working at channel 6. The chef from the Machine Shed always cooked up a full Sunday Dinner for Saturday Morning Breakfast. It was awesome. Not much more can be said for that.
In the end, I think I just like food. Free food at that. And what do people love more than burying the dead? Eating right after! So Bon Apetite this week! In between snowflakes of course. :). Oh yeah, the inspiration of this blog is that I saw them dig a grave for the first time in my life today. It wasn't as interesting as I thought. I told them to call me when they hit a casket or have to exhume a body like they did the Big Bopper in the Buddy Holly fiasco.
Death has always been freakishly intriging to me. Although I am afraid to get near anything deceased, I am obsessed with pouring over details that surround how someone dies. I think its human nature to be insanely curious over the unknown that is the end of living. Or maybe its just me?
I've never had to face the death of anyone terribly close to me except my Grandfather. And even his death I escaped the hardcore greiving that would have been his funeral. I went on vacation in Florida. He died 15 minutes before we boarded the plane. Grandma had informed us that she would hold off the funeral until we got back home in a week because that's how Grandpa wanted it. Well, by the time we landed, she had changed her mind. We had to decide if we wanted to hop on a plane and go back or spend the rest of the week on vacation. Due to the fact that we were with my at the time 1 and a half year old nephew and 3 and a half year old niece, we decided it would be best to stay on vacation. Our logic, they were really excited and happy. It made more sense to stay and be happy than explain how we had to go back home to be sad. It made sense then and still makes sense to us now. There's more to the story that I don't care to share but in the end, Grandpa loved those kids and wanted them to enjoy life and not worry about him.
So, working at a church has been interesting. The great celebration of life is all around. We have between 12-15 funerals a year which means 12-15 church lady lunches. That's right. The staff of St. Ann's, I think, can be classified as funeral crashers. This week, we will crash 3. And its only FEBRUARY!!! I'm hoping for an abundance of leftovers to last through next week!
Its awful, i know. But those ladies just cook so well!!!! They mainly bring a variety of side salads and pasta salads and of course, a TON of desserts! My favs include cheesy potatoes, mashed potatoes and gravy, asian salad with ramen, and baked beans. Sometimes they just have cold cust sandwiches and chips which is awesome too, but we usually get those in the summer. Hot food is for winter.
It reminds me of working at channel 6. The chef from the Machine Shed always cooked up a full Sunday Dinner for Saturday Morning Breakfast. It was awesome. Not much more can be said for that.
In the end, I think I just like food. Free food at that. And what do people love more than burying the dead? Eating right after! So Bon Apetite this week! In between snowflakes of course. :). Oh yeah, the inspiration of this blog is that I saw them dig a grave for the first time in my life today. It wasn't as interesting as I thought. I told them to call me when they hit a casket or have to exhume a body like they did the Big Bopper in the Buddy Holly fiasco.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
I want to get my hair cut, but my kid needs diapers.
I rarely get my hair cut anymore. Seriously. Twice in the past 5 years. I've been known most of my life to "Rule with an iron ponytail". Its a cute phrase. I like it. But, what I would really like, is to get it cut off.
My last 2 haircuts have been donated to Locks of Love. You have to have a 10 inch ponytail to donate your hair to make wigs for cancer patients. It may sound dumb, but its really hard to do. It takes dedication. You really gotta want it. Especially in winter.
I have really fine hair and when it gets dry in January, my head looks like I've been rubbing a balloon on it for the past 3 hours. And then the hair either stands freely in the air, or plasters itself to my neck. Thats where the "iron ponytail" first appeared. When hair sticks to my neck, a white hot anger grows in the pit of my stomach. I get so frustrated. I don't even wear hats in the winter anymore because of how stupid static hair is. I just want to shave my head. I'll totally go Britney Spears on all your asses. Total Post-Partum Ape Shit crazy. GOSH! I HATE HAIR ON MY NECK! It's pissing me off just thinking about it!
(Then of course in the summertime, I get all hot and sweaty and I don't like hair on my neck.)
So anyway, taking prenatal vitamins is like miracle grow for your hair and fingernails. I haven't cut my hair in over 2 years 10 months of that on prenatals. The Iron Ponytail is loooong. It's got to go. So why don't I just waltz into Great Clips and get it lobbed off? The answer is easy. I have only trusted 1 lady with my haircuts for 12 years. Thats right. I got a lady. I should just schedule an appointment. But I don't. Haircuts can be pricey. If I'm gonna do it, I might as well do it right. Haircut and Highlights. Its the only way to go. A haircut is a lifestyle change. When you want to go from a 16 inch ponytail to 0, you have gotta make the rest look good. But my husband doesn't see it that way. Apparently child rearing is expensive. Also, he thinks my long hair is sex-ay.
Part of me just wants to go and get it done, but the other part of me (Mike) will get angry if I ding the bank account. And I just had a kid. Mike saw the whole thing happen so its not like sex is going to happen for us anytime soon. So, in a total joking way, Mike said if I didn't get my haircut, neither would he. So for the pure sport of it, I am going to put up with the rest of this winter and as long as it takes to see how long Mike can last without getting his hair cut. As soon as he cracks, so will I. Mike also has this weird thing about hair. He likes to keep his short also. Not only to impress the patrons of Culver's, but his hair is curly and gets all afro puffy when its long. But the bottom line is, he looks good with short hair. Reeeal good. I think its sex-ay.
So, he has his ways of getting on my nerves, I have my ways of getting on his. Marriage is all about comprimise.
My last 2 haircuts have been donated to Locks of Love. You have to have a 10 inch ponytail to donate your hair to make wigs for cancer patients. It may sound dumb, but its really hard to do. It takes dedication. You really gotta want it. Especially in winter.
I have really fine hair and when it gets dry in January, my head looks like I've been rubbing a balloon on it for the past 3 hours. And then the hair either stands freely in the air, or plasters itself to my neck. Thats where the "iron ponytail" first appeared. When hair sticks to my neck, a white hot anger grows in the pit of my stomach. I get so frustrated. I don't even wear hats in the winter anymore because of how stupid static hair is. I just want to shave my head. I'll totally go Britney Spears on all your asses. Total Post-Partum Ape Shit crazy. GOSH! I HATE HAIR ON MY NECK! It's pissing me off just thinking about it!
(Then of course in the summertime, I get all hot and sweaty and I don't like hair on my neck.)
So anyway, taking prenatal vitamins is like miracle grow for your hair and fingernails. I haven't cut my hair in over 2 years 10 months of that on prenatals. The Iron Ponytail is loooong. It's got to go. So why don't I just waltz into Great Clips and get it lobbed off? The answer is easy. I have only trusted 1 lady with my haircuts for 12 years. Thats right. I got a lady. I should just schedule an appointment. But I don't. Haircuts can be pricey. If I'm gonna do it, I might as well do it right. Haircut and Highlights. Its the only way to go. A haircut is a lifestyle change. When you want to go from a 16 inch ponytail to 0, you have gotta make the rest look good. But my husband doesn't see it that way. Apparently child rearing is expensive. Also, he thinks my long hair is sex-ay.
Part of me just wants to go and get it done, but the other part of me (Mike) will get angry if I ding the bank account. And I just had a kid. Mike saw the whole thing happen so its not like sex is going to happen for us anytime soon. So, in a total joking way, Mike said if I didn't get my haircut, neither would he. So for the pure sport of it, I am going to put up with the rest of this winter and as long as it takes to see how long Mike can last without getting his hair cut. As soon as he cracks, so will I. Mike also has this weird thing about hair. He likes to keep his short also. Not only to impress the patrons of Culver's, but his hair is curly and gets all afro puffy when its long. But the bottom line is, he looks good with short hair. Reeeal good. I think its sex-ay.
So, he has his ways of getting on my nerves, I have my ways of getting on his. Marriage is all about comprimise.
Monday, January 24, 2011
I'm married to Mike Jones bitch!
So, I firmly believe that Mike and I are totally meant to be together forever. We go together like water and oil. Vinegar and Baking Soda. Vegemite and anything else.
Today is a big day for Sebastian. Me too I suppose. It is his first day of daycare. NO I didn't cry shockingly, but I have dabbled on facebook looking at the photo album dedicated to him. He's growing up so fast. Its exciting, exhausting, scary, sad, and wonderful all rolled into one.
So I left the home of the care provider and immediatly called up Mike.
"He's there." I said with a sigh. Expecting some great comforting words of hope from my husband. Instead all I got was "Oh." I asked him if he was okay, hoping he'd reciprocate the gesture of comfort. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" Clearly he is joking with me, right? Wrong. He was totally serious. The conversation went downhill from there. I was looking for a shoulder to lean on and he was confused as to why I would need said shoulder.
I could quote the rest of the conversation, but I don't exactly remember how it all went down specifically. I was kind of shocked. Why doesn't he care that his little boy is growing up? The entire 7 weeks I was off work, i was the main care giver to Sebby. Now, a stranger is watching him. All day long. To me, that time was just for me and baby and once I had to go back into the real world, thats when he would start growing up. I could stop him for just those 7 weeks, and now its time for him to start his life outside of my watch.
I was occupied for most of my morning catching up with work, but I worked a little too well and finished it all and here I am stewing over the clock, waiting until 4pm to go pick up my baby boy. So while I obcess over the obvious abcense, Mike carries on like its another day, because to him, it is. He has to work and has had to work since we got out of the hospital 7 weeks ago. He's had to say good-bye to him every morning. This was the first time I really had to say good-bye and fully trust him with a person outside of my family.
Mike has never ever been one for good words in the right order. When I went to the emergency room with blood poisoning a few years ago, he had tickets to Ron White and wouldn't skip it. His only words were "Keep me posted" which is now a running joke. Before we met, a woman approached Mike at a bar and asked him to dance. His response? "Sure, I've got nothing better to do!"
He is very self centered and is aware of it. He is nothing but honest. He doesn't sugar coat things. He gets a little carried away sometimes when he is being goofy. He is just Mike. And after thinking about the events of the morning, he is just what I need. He made me think about why I am so upset over Sebastian growing up. I mean seriously? He has to do it sometime. Yeah I wish that I could be with him all the time, but when I am with him, sometimes I want a break. And I know that he is safe at daycare. I trust his babysitter. As Mike said "If I didn't trust her, he wouldn't be there."
So really, I am okay. Mike is blunt about things, but my imagination tends to veer off course quite a bit and he keeps me grounded. He drives me nuts at the same time, but why would I want to be around someone that lets me run away with my imagination? He knows i worry too much and am a worst case scenario thinker. Something that seems like a big deal to me, he shows me the bigger picture and I realize there are bigger things, like worrying about when Sebastian is bigger and doesn't live at home anymore.
For now, Sebby needs to do these things to grow up. He has to be a kid and he has to learn on his own. I can't hold his hand every step of the way. Its what is so sucky and so awesome about being a parent. I've made this thing and now its time to let him loose on society. Look out world. Mike Jones & I made a baby. You've been warned.
Today is a big day for Sebastian. Me too I suppose. It is his first day of daycare. NO I didn't cry shockingly, but I have dabbled on facebook looking at the photo album dedicated to him. He's growing up so fast. Its exciting, exhausting, scary, sad, and wonderful all rolled into one.
So I left the home of the care provider and immediatly called up Mike.
"He's there." I said with a sigh. Expecting some great comforting words of hope from my husband. Instead all I got was "Oh." I asked him if he was okay, hoping he'd reciprocate the gesture of comfort. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" Clearly he is joking with me, right? Wrong. He was totally serious. The conversation went downhill from there. I was looking for a shoulder to lean on and he was confused as to why I would need said shoulder.
I could quote the rest of the conversation, but I don't exactly remember how it all went down specifically. I was kind of shocked. Why doesn't he care that his little boy is growing up? The entire 7 weeks I was off work, i was the main care giver to Sebby. Now, a stranger is watching him. All day long. To me, that time was just for me and baby and once I had to go back into the real world, thats when he would start growing up. I could stop him for just those 7 weeks, and now its time for him to start his life outside of my watch.
I was occupied for most of my morning catching up with work, but I worked a little too well and finished it all and here I am stewing over the clock, waiting until 4pm to go pick up my baby boy. So while I obcess over the obvious abcense, Mike carries on like its another day, because to him, it is. He has to work and has had to work since we got out of the hospital 7 weeks ago. He's had to say good-bye to him every morning. This was the first time I really had to say good-bye and fully trust him with a person outside of my family.
Mike has never ever been one for good words in the right order. When I went to the emergency room with blood poisoning a few years ago, he had tickets to Ron White and wouldn't skip it. His only words were "Keep me posted" which is now a running joke. Before we met, a woman approached Mike at a bar and asked him to dance. His response? "Sure, I've got nothing better to do!"
He is very self centered and is aware of it. He is nothing but honest. He doesn't sugar coat things. He gets a little carried away sometimes when he is being goofy. He is just Mike. And after thinking about the events of the morning, he is just what I need. He made me think about why I am so upset over Sebastian growing up. I mean seriously? He has to do it sometime. Yeah I wish that I could be with him all the time, but when I am with him, sometimes I want a break. And I know that he is safe at daycare. I trust his babysitter. As Mike said "If I didn't trust her, he wouldn't be there."
So really, I am okay. Mike is blunt about things, but my imagination tends to veer off course quite a bit and he keeps me grounded. He drives me nuts at the same time, but why would I want to be around someone that lets me run away with my imagination? He knows i worry too much and am a worst case scenario thinker. Something that seems like a big deal to me, he shows me the bigger picture and I realize there are bigger things, like worrying about when Sebastian is bigger and doesn't live at home anymore.
For now, Sebby needs to do these things to grow up. He has to be a kid and he has to learn on his own. I can't hold his hand every step of the way. Its what is so sucky and so awesome about being a parent. I've made this thing and now its time to let him loose on society. Look out world. Mike Jones & I made a baby. You've been warned.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Okay... 2 blogs, 1 day Look out world!
First day back at work. How quickly we fall back into the annoyingness that is the world of employment.
First, I'll start on a positive note. Sebastian gets to come to work with me!! 2 days a week, he'll be my office assistant. The pay sucks for him, but we get to hang out so its cool.
Now onto why I haaaate today. I've been out for 7 weeks and the pile on top of my desk grew somehow. So not only do I get to go through the pile that I have procrastinated on dwindling down, I get to go through all the new growth that people plopped down. Most of it will be put in the circular file.
So I logged on my computer this morning. My email has been wiped clean. Terrific. So not only are all the old emails gone, I don't have new ones either. All my contacts are gone and it looks like my schedule is pretty free and clear because thats all gone too! I somehow mistakenly found 80 new emails by trying a bunch of stuff and I have no idea how I got there. I assume this is how a burnout in the 70's would feel.
So the challenges of working with my baby. First thing, he never ever ever ever ever wants to be put down. This makes my typical work day difficult. I now have to type one handed, eat one handed, surf facebook one handed, and it literally just occured to me, if i want to go to the bathroom, he either has to come with me (gross), or I can ask the secretary to watch him while I do my dooty. AND, if I have to make dooty, she'll know what I did. And contrary to popular belief, I don't always announce at work when I drop the deuce. I like to be discreet. And, if you read my previous blog, you'll understand why I like home court advantage.
Next challenge of baby workforce. I was feeding my child the way nature intended. My office door was locked, baby and booby were covered up by a hooter hider incase anyone happened to glance through my window. Well, low and behold, old man parishoner that I know quite well got to know me a little better. He unlocked my office door with his key and came in to give me a baby gift. He noticed I was feeding but this didn't phase him. So I thought "Well, if it don't bother him, whatever. I'm covered up." So we're talking about this and that, and eventually he's been in my office for 20 minutes and its time for Jr to be burped. As soon as Jr was unlatched, said parishoner stopped talking mid sentence and ran out of my office like his pants were on fire. I WAS STILL COVERED UP!! Ugh... Hopefully he got a lesson in what I like to call "boundaries" today. I didn't even get to say thank you for the babies r us gift card!
So, because I have no emails to go through, and no addresses to email people... we have 3 hours left at work. So, I blogged twice, been on facebook quite a bit, and gotten a little bit of real work done for confirmation. It's like I never left.
First, I'll start on a positive note. Sebastian gets to come to work with me!! 2 days a week, he'll be my office assistant. The pay sucks for him, but we get to hang out so its cool.
Now onto why I haaaate today. I've been out for 7 weeks and the pile on top of my desk grew somehow. So not only do I get to go through the pile that I have procrastinated on dwindling down, I get to go through all the new growth that people plopped down. Most of it will be put in the circular file.
So I logged on my computer this morning. My email has been wiped clean. Terrific. So not only are all the old emails gone, I don't have new ones either. All my contacts are gone and it looks like my schedule is pretty free and clear because thats all gone too! I somehow mistakenly found 80 new emails by trying a bunch of stuff and I have no idea how I got there. I assume this is how a burnout in the 70's would feel.
So the challenges of working with my baby. First thing, he never ever ever ever ever wants to be put down. This makes my typical work day difficult. I now have to type one handed, eat one handed, surf facebook one handed, and it literally just occured to me, if i want to go to the bathroom, he either has to come with me (gross), or I can ask the secretary to watch him while I do my dooty. AND, if I have to make dooty, she'll know what I did. And contrary to popular belief, I don't always announce at work when I drop the deuce. I like to be discreet. And, if you read my previous blog, you'll understand why I like home court advantage.
Next challenge of baby workforce. I was feeding my child the way nature intended. My office door was locked, baby and booby were covered up by a hooter hider incase anyone happened to glance through my window. Well, low and behold, old man parishoner that I know quite well got to know me a little better. He unlocked my office door with his key and came in to give me a baby gift. He noticed I was feeding but this didn't phase him. So I thought "Well, if it don't bother him, whatever. I'm covered up." So we're talking about this and that, and eventually he's been in my office for 20 minutes and its time for Jr to be burped. As soon as Jr was unlatched, said parishoner stopped talking mid sentence and ran out of my office like his pants were on fire. I WAS STILL COVERED UP!! Ugh... Hopefully he got a lesson in what I like to call "boundaries" today. I didn't even get to say thank you for the babies r us gift card!
So, because I have no emails to go through, and no addresses to email people... we have 3 hours left at work. So, I blogged twice, been on facebook quite a bit, and gotten a little bit of real work done for confirmation. It's like I never left.
Don't have sex
Last night, Wednesday, January 19, 2010, I left my warm cozy little home and headed north to Long Grove, Iowa for my first real night back at work. I left my tiny little baby in the arms of a capable husband. Said my good-byes to my sweet little boy and my husband, got in the car, and shed a couple tears. My Honda Pilot roared to life and the exhaust system spewed out toxic waste into the atmosphere. I could see my breath as I drove down my street. Eventually the heater kicked in and the interior of my SUV began to feel like a Wednesday in the Bahamas.
Okay, enough descriptiveness. Onto why I told a 16 year old girl to not have sex last night. To protect the girl's identity, we'll call her "Pricilla".
Pricilla: JULIA!! I started working at that school, and this guy I work with is SOOO HOT!!
Julia: Oh really? Remember, sex can wait.
Pricilla: He's 22!
Julia: Dear Lord! Stay away from him.
P: What? I'm not going to have sex with him! I'm only 16.
J: And that would make you jailbait for him.
P: Yeah I know. But he's reeeally hot!
J: If you have sex with him, you will get hemorrhoids.
P: What are hemorrhoids?
J: **facepalm** and shakes head disapprovingly A hemorrhoid is something you really don't want to get.
P: How do you get them?
J: By having sex.
P: Just by having sex?
J: Well, not directly. But if you get pregnant and deliver a baby, you will get "the roids".
P: But what are they?
J: Okay... (clears throat) Well, your butthole is basically a muscle. You know, your "o-ring", your sphinter? Anyway, that muscle is full of veins that blood is carried to to keep your poop from falling out all over the place. When you put great pressure or force on you butthole, sometimes those veins pop through the fibers of the muscle and kind of push out. So when you poop, your poop presses on the nerves that gets pushed out too and its so painful you just want to die. And when you look in the toilet, there may be blood.
P: stares blankly
J: Don't have sex. You'll get hemorrhoids.
AM I GREAT AT MY JOB OR WHAT!?!?!?!
Okay, enough descriptiveness. Onto why I told a 16 year old girl to not have sex last night. To protect the girl's identity, we'll call her "Pricilla".
Pricilla: JULIA!! I started working at that school, and this guy I work with is SOOO HOT!!
Julia: Oh really? Remember, sex can wait.
Pricilla: He's 22!
Julia: Dear Lord! Stay away from him.
P: What? I'm not going to have sex with him! I'm only 16.
J: And that would make you jailbait for him.
P: Yeah I know. But he's reeeally hot!
J: If you have sex with him, you will get hemorrhoids.
P: What are hemorrhoids?
J: **facepalm** and shakes head disapprovingly A hemorrhoid is something you really don't want to get.
P: How do you get them?
J: By having sex.
P: Just by having sex?
J: Well, not directly. But if you get pregnant and deliver a baby, you will get "the roids".
P: But what are they?
J: Okay... (clears throat) Well, your butthole is basically a muscle. You know, your "o-ring", your sphinter? Anyway, that muscle is full of veins that blood is carried to to keep your poop from falling out all over the place. When you put great pressure or force on you butthole, sometimes those veins pop through the fibers of the muscle and kind of push out. So when you poop, your poop presses on the nerves that gets pushed out too and its so painful you just want to die. And when you look in the toilet, there may be blood.
P: stares blankly
J: Don't have sex. You'll get hemorrhoids.
AM I GREAT AT MY JOB OR WHAT!?!?!?!
Monday, January 17, 2011
My brother made my day today
I have 3 older brothers. Matt, Nick, and Andy. We all share a Mom and Dad.
I see Matt and his family quite often. I see Andy's wife more than I see him. And Nick, I don't see him as often as I see the other 2. But now, I definetly won't see him for a while. Nick is known in the better circles as Sgt. Nick Osterhaus. The last time I saw him was Christmas eve. It sucked that I had to say good bye to him on a holiday that should typically be surrounded by joy. But I don't want to talk about that.
Nick has been in Texas preparing for his 2nd tour overseas. He's being sent to the sandbox to what I assume is to help with the troop pullout of Iraq. Why send more troops into the country when we want them out? Anywho, Nick's plane was supposed to leave today to head overseas, so he was making his last calls home to keep everyone informed. I was one of those lucky phone calls. It made my day. And I kind of feel bad about it.
My main source of communication for the past 6 weeks has been Sebastian. He's not one for conversation so naturally anyone that calls me, gets a lengthy- Jr. High girl verbal diarhea. I'm that hyperactive pug who's eyes pop out when human contact is made.Or the nerdy kid that gets picked 2nd to last in gym class and by my excitement, the team captain realizes they should have chosen the kid with the broken arm for dodgeball because nobody wants the annoying kid on the team.
So my brother innocently calls me and he gets ambushed. We basically talked about children. His and mine. I think I bored him. That previous sentence doesn't sound correct but I'm too lazy to make it work.
So this is my apology blog. I'm sorry I'm such a spaz Nick. I go back to work this week and will be around many other human beings and I promise to not talk so much next time we chat.
I care a great deal for everyone in my family. It's tied with God for the #1 things I care about most. I worry about them all every day. I pray for them all everyday. But for the next 11 months I will be praying especially for Nick, his wife, his daughter, and their fetus.Tonight's prayer will be for thanksgiving. That Nick is safe for one more night and that he is 1 day closer to coming home.
God Bless Our Troops and please bring them home safe.
I see Matt and his family quite often. I see Andy's wife more than I see him. And Nick, I don't see him as often as I see the other 2. But now, I definetly won't see him for a while. Nick is known in the better circles as Sgt. Nick Osterhaus. The last time I saw him was Christmas eve. It sucked that I had to say good bye to him on a holiday that should typically be surrounded by joy. But I don't want to talk about that.
Nick has been in Texas preparing for his 2nd tour overseas. He's being sent to the sandbox to what I assume is to help with the troop pullout of Iraq. Why send more troops into the country when we want them out? Anywho, Nick's plane was supposed to leave today to head overseas, so he was making his last calls home to keep everyone informed. I was one of those lucky phone calls. It made my day. And I kind of feel bad about it.
My main source of communication for the past 6 weeks has been Sebastian. He's not one for conversation so naturally anyone that calls me, gets a lengthy- Jr. High girl verbal diarhea. I'm that hyperactive pug who's eyes pop out when human contact is made.Or the nerdy kid that gets picked 2nd to last in gym class and by my excitement, the team captain realizes they should have chosen the kid with the broken arm for dodgeball because nobody wants the annoying kid on the team.
So my brother innocently calls me and he gets ambushed. We basically talked about children. His and mine. I think I bored him. That previous sentence doesn't sound correct but I'm too lazy to make it work.
So this is my apology blog. I'm sorry I'm such a spaz Nick. I go back to work this week and will be around many other human beings and I promise to not talk so much next time we chat.
I care a great deal for everyone in my family. It's tied with God for the #1 things I care about most. I worry about them all every day. I pray for them all everyday. But for the next 11 months I will be praying especially for Nick, his wife, his daughter, and their fetus.Tonight's prayer will be for thanksgiving. That Nick is safe for one more night and that he is 1 day closer to coming home.
God Bless Our Troops and please bring them home safe.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
MTV- youre doing it wrong
So I mentioned before that I am an avid watcher of 16 & Pregnant and its sequel Teen Mom. Many adults believe that these shows glorify teen pregnancy and parenthood. I for the most part disagree with them.
I don't know what teen would watch that show and say to themselves "I want that life!". First off, they all still live with their parents. Sometimes their baby daddy moves in to their house too. AAAAWWWWWKKKKWAAAAAARRRDD!
Sorry, but you couldn't pay me enough to live with my parents anymore. Granted I am 9 years older than the show subjects. But still, most 16 year olds are already pretty sick of living under mommy and daddy's roof. Having a kid would more than likely just prolong that hell.
Next, sometimes you see these kids go out to lunch with their babies and friends but I'll bet MTV has 6 weeks worth of footage of these kids sitting at home watching reruns of Everybody Loves Raymond. They try to text people, but they aren't getting responses. So instead of using their phone for communication, they end up using the camera feature to take hawt pics of them holding their baby. But when they check the photo, they see they didn't conceal their double chin very well. So they take another one where they look super sexy. Meanwhile their baby in the photo has a huge booger creeping out and their clothes are stained with spit up.
So my mission with this blog is to expose what MTV should be showing to reverse the opinions of the nay-sayers.
The first thing they should show is during the pregnancy. How about starting out small by showcasing how hard it is for a pregnant person to get comfy. There isn't much that can be done easily to make a pillow top bed comfy. I myself had 6 extra pillows on my "half" of the bed. By half, I mean the half that would be considered 2/3 due to my excess bedding.
Now,let's get a little graphic. I didn't have this problem, but I think they need to show more of these girls peeing themselves. Or, their irritability from constipation. Now THERE is a bitch!
Let's move onto post partum. Screw the lack of sleep and the screaming baby. The worst part of after the baby is the roids. You know, the hemrroids. If I knew then what I know now, perhaps I would have thought twice about Jr. In fact, when I return to work, my new reason for pushing abstinence with the kids will be just that.
First you're upset that you can't poop, then you're upset because you have to!
Ugh! MTV, if you have 1 episode dedicated to hemmys or the perineal tear, I think we can changes lives.
I don't know what teen would watch that show and say to themselves "I want that life!". First off, they all still live with their parents. Sometimes their baby daddy moves in to their house too. AAAAWWWWWKKKKWAAAAAARRRDD!
Sorry, but you couldn't pay me enough to live with my parents anymore. Granted I am 9 years older than the show subjects. But still, most 16 year olds are already pretty sick of living under mommy and daddy's roof. Having a kid would more than likely just prolong that hell.
Next, sometimes you see these kids go out to lunch with their babies and friends but I'll bet MTV has 6 weeks worth of footage of these kids sitting at home watching reruns of Everybody Loves Raymond. They try to text people, but they aren't getting responses. So instead of using their phone for communication, they end up using the camera feature to take hawt pics of them holding their baby. But when they check the photo, they see they didn't conceal their double chin very well. So they take another one where they look super sexy. Meanwhile their baby in the photo has a huge booger creeping out and their clothes are stained with spit up.
So my mission with this blog is to expose what MTV should be showing to reverse the opinions of the nay-sayers.
The first thing they should show is during the pregnancy. How about starting out small by showcasing how hard it is for a pregnant person to get comfy. There isn't much that can be done easily to make a pillow top bed comfy. I myself had 6 extra pillows on my "half" of the bed. By half, I mean the half that would be considered 2/3 due to my excess bedding.
Now,let's get a little graphic. I didn't have this problem, but I think they need to show more of these girls peeing themselves. Or, their irritability from constipation. Now THERE is a bitch!
Let's move onto post partum. Screw the lack of sleep and the screaming baby. The worst part of after the baby is the roids. You know, the hemrroids. If I knew then what I know now, perhaps I would have thought twice about Jr. In fact, when I return to work, my new reason for pushing abstinence with the kids will be just that.
First you're upset that you can't poop, then you're upset because you have to!
Ugh! MTV, if you have 1 episode dedicated to hemmys or the perineal tear, I think we can changes lives.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
learning new tricks
So far, 2011 (pronounced Two thousand eleven. Who gives a crap about "Twenty Eleven") has been a year full of lessons.
First, my son could give a crap about 12:00am January 1. He knows the party is really all about January 2!!!! Well, that's the night he decided to stay up to party anyway. Little shit screamed his head off from 10p to about 12:06am. Once he had his fill he was out like a trout. He could give 2 craps about celebrating January 1. In fact, he did and I have the diapers to prove it.
Next lesson, you cannot rely on church times. Mike and I prepared our son for a mass at 10:30 in Long Grove. We were a little late. I admit we arrived at 10:36. Apparently that was an hour and 36 minutes too late. And apparently going on maternity leave isn't an excuse for not reading the bulletin. My bad....
Next lesson, I can blog from my blackberry!!! So you'll really never know if I'm breastfeeding right now, or pooping, or driving my car while I blog now will you?
And to close, a conclusion that I have come to about New Years. Besides the fact that it is the silliest holiday tradition world wide to literally wait for the time to pass, I've noticed on quite a few facebook statuses that people are already disappointed with their lives in 2011. Okay people. Seriously!?! Is the second hand of a clock really a magic wand that erases your bad karma, or luck and makes the bad feelings disappear??? Hell no! Its been two fucking days. The year will be what you make of it. If you say its going to be a bad year, guess what Debbie Downer, It will be! Pick your self esteem up out of the gutter you yakked in 2 nights ago and give yourself a reason to have a good year. Its not going to happen unless you try!
End rant. Follow me on twitter. Jjones0902
First, my son could give a crap about 12:00am January 1. He knows the party is really all about January 2!!!! Well, that's the night he decided to stay up to party anyway. Little shit screamed his head off from 10p to about 12:06am. Once he had his fill he was out like a trout. He could give 2 craps about celebrating January 1. In fact, he did and I have the diapers to prove it.
Next lesson, you cannot rely on church times. Mike and I prepared our son for a mass at 10:30 in Long Grove. We were a little late. I admit we arrived at 10:36. Apparently that was an hour and 36 minutes too late. And apparently going on maternity leave isn't an excuse for not reading the bulletin. My bad....
Next lesson, I can blog from my blackberry!!! So you'll really never know if I'm breastfeeding right now, or pooping, or driving my car while I blog now will you?
And to close, a conclusion that I have come to about New Years. Besides the fact that it is the silliest holiday tradition world wide to literally wait for the time to pass, I've noticed on quite a few facebook statuses that people are already disappointed with their lives in 2011. Okay people. Seriously!?! Is the second hand of a clock really a magic wand that erases your bad karma, or luck and makes the bad feelings disappear??? Hell no! Its been two fucking days. The year will be what you make of it. If you say its going to be a bad year, guess what Debbie Downer, It will be! Pick your self esteem up out of the gutter you yakked in 2 nights ago and give yourself a reason to have a good year. Its not going to happen unless you try!
End rant. Follow me on twitter. Jjones0902
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