Thursday Thirteen: Memories from Early Childhood

1. Mom making my Cinderella birthday cake. age 2

2. Someone scrubbing my hands with stinky soap and putting a gown on me so I could see newborn Jennifer in the hospital. age 2

3. Dad singing me to sleep in the rocking chair. age 2

4. Tossing a balloon to my aunt over the shower curtain while I took a bath and she was babysitting. age 3

5. Making mud pies in the back yard with the kid that Mom babysat. He was so old, at least 5. age 3

6. Going on vacation with Grandma and Grandpa and being eaten up by mosquitoes. age 4

7. Wearing my favorite dress at least part of every day at Dover. It was red and covered with flowers. age 4

8. Watching Dad milk cows on the dairy and getting to feed bottles to the calves . age 5

9. Waiting for the kindergarten school bus by Granny and Paw Paw's honey suckle bush. age 5

10. Thinking that an 'E' should look like this: age 5

11. Lance being born and Dad telling Jennifer and me that he was a big baby; me thinking that meant he was already bigger than me. age 5

12. Playing dentist and pretending I had a loose tooth, only to realize I really did have my very first loose tooth. age 6

13. Trying to take my cat into the wading pool and getting the full benefit of his claws on my back as he scrambled away. age 6

And a bonus story because I can't leave it out --

A skunk spraying our front porch. While we were outside. With all the windows open. And box fans sitting on the window sills blowing into the house. age 6

Why I Cannot Wait for Thursday

And, the icing on the cake:

Selfishness

I feel bad for my boss. She fell while hiking last week and cracked her patella. Her left leg is in a brace and she can't flex her knee joint for the next 3 to 6 weeks. After that she will need several weeks of physical therapy. This is a very bad situation for anyone, but especially so for a nurse. One cannot effectively care for patients with in immobilized knee.

As bad as her injury is, I can't help feeling sorry for myself, too. I'm the only other full-time nurse in the office so I am picking up the slack. The old timer is lazy. Another sort-of old timer is slow. The fill-in nurses are good but they're fill-ins and they don't do the extra stuff like track down lab results and x-rays. They don't remember which nebulizers are accepted by which insurance companies or where the face masks are. They don't enter vaccine lot numbers or even know which vendor delivers insurance doses and which delivers VFC doses.

So, I'll be happy for my boss when her leg heals. I'll be really happy because she can go back to doing her job and I can pitch in when I have a chance. That might make me sound selfish but I can't help that.

Thursday Thirteen: To Do List

1. Cut the kids' hair. Both the boys need to be buzzed and Miriam's hair desperately needs a trim.

2. Take Solomon to the doctor. He swears that there is something "stuck to the thing that makes me be able to hear."

3. Wash the car. And vacuum it. And throw out the accumulated junk in it. And clean the fingerprints off the inside of the windows.

4. Stay on top of the laundry. I'm caught up and I want it to last as long as possible.

5. Call the apartment manager about the lights being out in the breezeway. Remember to tell them the kids' bathroom doorknob is jamming up.

6. Take the kids out for ice cream. They've worked hard this week and they deserve it.

7. Sweep and mop the kitchen floor.

8. Make lasagna to use up all the extra marinara I made this week.

9. Watch the season finale of 'Swingtown.' And hope that it comes back to CBS instead of going to HBO.

10. Plan an outdoor activity for this weekend. Biking? Kites? Hiking?

11. Play trains with Samuel. He asked me tonight while I was busy with something and then we both forgot about it later.

12. Catch up on my Sim families. I haven't played in almost 3 weeks. I'm a little ashamed to say this, but I miss playing dolls.

13. Unwind. The last two work weeks have knocked the wind out of me.

Someone Should Call CPS

I am starving my child. He won't have energy to eat the food on his plate at dinner if I don't give him a snack at 6:15. He's going to keel over and die rightthisminute. He needs food, and he needs it now, darn it! The two peanut butter and cracker sandwiches weren't enough and he needs cheese -- lots of cheese. I don't care about him at all.

/facetious

What I Did Last Night

I work with someone who always asks me what I did 'last night.' She asks this in the same leisurely, half-interested way that people with no responsibilities ask each other what they Did Over the Weekend. If it were anyone else, it probably wouldn't bother me but she annoys me in lots of other ways so this is just one more straw.

(This same woman commented on my children being with their father for a month this summer and said, "Man, I wish I had had a set up like that when my kids were little." Really? You wish you didn't see your kids for a month and that during the school year, they missed their dad constantly? Really? You wish you had had that? She's also the same one that thinks everyone with state-funded insurance is lazy. She's a real gem.)

Plus, she's really out of touch with what it's actually like to have young children. She has 2 grown children and she seems to have forgotten what it's like to have them constantly needing something. For example, last week I walked into the office at 8:28, gulping down the rest of my lukewarm coffee from a travel mug with my first patient already in the waiting room. She breezed past me and said, "You have more time than I do in the mornings if you've already had your coffee." My jaw dropped. She had no clue that my morning started at 5:30 with a child's wet bed, a 5-minute shower and make up put on at red lights. I kind of wanted to kick her in the shin, just a little bit.

Later that day she stretched lazily and asked me, "So what did you do last night, besides go home and crash?" I was already ticked at her for the earlier comment about my morning and I didn't trust myself to answer nicely. So I didn't answer her. But if I had, I might have said something like this:

Well, I left here at 5:25 at a dead run to avoid paying $5 per minute per child for missing the 6:00 pm pick up deadline for the after care program. I barely made it there in time due to the horrendous traffic.

By the time we got home it was after 6 and all the kids had homework so I simultaneously signed homework folders, read homework instructions, cooked dinner, unloaded the dishwasher and moved more clean laundry to the ever-growing pile of clean laundry. We had dinner and finished most of the kids' homework.

Then I sent the eldest to the shower, bathed the middle child and put off the youngest's bath until this morning. I supervised the kids' teeth brushing, called their father so they could tell him about their day, picked up some toys, straightened beds, turned on night lights and music and finally turned out the light. I tucked in all 3 children and barely resisted the urge to pass out in their beds with them.

After that I cleaned up the dinner dishes, put away leftovers, swept the floor, reminded myself to take out the trash this morning, started another load of laundry and wiped up pee splatters around the toilets. I debated whether or not to watch television and decided to go to bed instead. And I forgot to brush my teeth.

Thursday Thirteen: Pet Peeves

I've been testy lately. I attribute that to a hormone surge and the fact that we aren't adjusted to the routine of the school year yet. In an effort to get it all out of my system, I'm posting a list of thirteen pet peeves.

1. Mouth noises: breathing, chewing, smacking, even certain sneezes.

2. Talking with one's mouth full: this is technically a mouth noise but it's so entirely gross that I have to list it separately (plus, I work with a bunch of people who do this all. the. time.).

3. Parents that smile dumbly at me instead of helping me wrangle their child onto the exam table.

4. People that invade my personal space; seriously, the 18 inches surrounding me in all directions should not be entered unless we share DNA or you have been expressly invited.

5. DJs talking over each other or music. Yes, I know you get paid to talk, but you don't get paid by the word, so chill.

6. Laziness. Pure and simple. I hate it.

7. Waste. Another simple one.

8. Parents who get more worked up about their kid's shots than the kid does.

9. After care program workers who can't explain to me the payment rate for my children and why my statement reads that I have a $60 credit but insist that I have to fork over another check for $112 for next week.

10. Kindergarten homework instructions that take too long to decipher so I end up doing whatever I think the kindergartner needs to do for homework. Come on, it's kindergarten. Does he really need to know the subject, verb and object parts of a sentence yet?

11. Cashiers who act like it's a huge chore to load up my reusable shopping bags as opposed to their cheap, wasteful plastic bags.

12. Parents who think that everything their kid does is cute, including grabbing at expensive medical equipment, slamming drawers and ripping table paper to shreds.

13. Whining. Oh, how I hate whining.

Well now, that's that. I'll take a deep breath and sleep better now. I hope.

Well Now She's Just Bragging

My daughter is a wonderful student. She works hard, listens well and is eager to please her teachers. She's too afraid to call attention to herself so she doesn't speak out of turn in class. She's usually at the top of the behavior mountain peak.

I suspected this would be the case before she even started school and the last 3 years have confirmed those suspicions. But tonight took the cake. We were talking about our favorite and least favorite parts of the day. Her least favorite part of today -- I only got one Scholar Dollar today.

As it turns out, Scholar Dollars are play money that the teacher hands out to students who make good choices. When a student accumulates a certain number of Scholar Dollars they can choose a prize from the treasure box and buy it with their well-earned monies.

So Miriam's bummer is when she fails to garner multiple Scholar Dollars in a single school day. I asked her how many she got yesterday and she wasn't sure. I asked how many she has total and she shrugged and said, "I don't know. A lot."

Now, my sons are very different stories. More about them in future posts. And, lest you think I play favorites, it's not bad stuff. They are all different kids, therefore they present me with different challenges.

A New Favorite Book

Girl With A Pearl Earring, by Tracy Chevalier, is the story of young Griet who is hired as a maid in the home of Johannes Vermeer. Forced away from her loving family after tragedy has struck, Griet attempts to adjust to a new lifestyle of unending labor and servitude. She is overwhelmed by the changes but manages to work diligently for her employer. The one benefit to her position is the opportunity to work with Vermeer and, in her own way, influence his works. Faced with an impossible choice, Griet sacrifices her own pride and a work of art is born.

The inner turmoil Griet experiences is palpable. She comes from a society in which class lines are distinct and never crossed. Yet when the time comes for her to cross a line, she feels as if she has no choice. Ironically, her choice is forced by the fact that she is from the lower class. This choice ultimately leads her into a better life, but at what cost?

This was an enjoyable, quick read; almost too quick, as I'm still digesting the story and the slighter nuances involved. The writer's descriptions of every day life, scenes to be painted, paint colors and light are breath-taking. Often during my reading, I felt like I hadn't done the words justice and I went back to read passages again and absorb them. Chevalier is a gifted writer.

I enjoy historical fiction immensely and I especially enjoy stories that are actually plausible. This is one of those stories. It may sound strange, but I feel as if I know the girl in the painting now.

On My Window

This morning I was getting ready for church and saw the unmistakable silhouette of a praying mantis through the curtain on my bedroom window. The insect was on the outside of the screen and the kids and I watched it for several minutes. We were actually late for church because of it.



Funny story, I actually looked up 'praying mantis' at Merriam-Webster.com because I couldn't decide if I should spell it 'preying' or 'praying'. The former makes more sense to me because it's a carnivorous insect and preys on other insects. But I could see it being the latter also since it sits in the traditional position for prayer. Anyway, it's definitely 'praying mantis.'

I find it a tad ironic that I saw a praying mantis on Sunday morning while getting ready for church. It's even more so, since my church is not known for prayer in the traditional sense. Ha!

The Past Three Days

Friday afternoon, the kids and I witnessed a car accident. A head-on collision right in front of us. Both drivers were alone and were up and walking around afterward but they went to the hospital as a precaution. It was pretty scary.

I babysat Noah and Adam last night while Jennifer and Caleb went out. The kids and I had a lot of fun. I will never understand how kids can play so hard and stay up so late but still get up so early, though.

We went swimming this afternoon for what is probably the last time until next summer. The weather is consistently cooling off and we are so busy with school and work that I doubt we'll fit it in again.

Samuel stepped on a bee at the pool. He is such a tough kid and there is not much that phases him, but he cried solidly for 20 minutes. Hard. My poor baby. We came home immediately and put baking soda on it. He's had two doses of Benadryl and he let me put an ice pack on it. He is sleeping now. I hope it doesn't wake him up tonight and that he feels alright tomorrow.

Two tornadoes touched down 10 minutes south of here this evening. It doesn't seem like there was much damage so far. Several co-workers live in that area and I'm hoping everyone is okay. The storm blew past us pretty quickly. We had a bit of thunder and a lot of wind but no rain or hail. Now we are covered by some pretty awesome looking clouds.

I am tired.

Thursday Thirteen: Stuff in My Shower

I was going to post this last night, but my internet connection was down. Poo. It's not much but here it is anyway.

1. Burt's Bees Rosemary shampoo

2. Burt's Bees Rosemary conditioner

3. Tub of baking soda for exfoliating and occasional hair washes

4. Pumice stone for serious exfoliating

5. Bottle of apple cider vinegar, water and lavender oil for occasional hair rinses

6. Razor

7. Bar of Ivory soap

8. Tube of oatmeal and avocado mask, rarely used

9. Kids' strawberry shampoo -- for when they bathe there and don't like the other options

10. Bottle of baby shampoo for face washing

11. Washcloth drying from last night's shower

12. Wall hanging rack to hold it all -- only it holds about half of everything

13. 32-ounce cup for rinsing children's heads

I Was on the Radio Today

I don't know what got into me; I never do stuff like this. I called a morning talk show during my commute to work and they actually put me on the air. It was cool.

The discussion was about high school students using the internet for research papers. One of the hosts heard about a teacher who has banned the internet as a source for all papers in a class for a semester. She thought it was absurd and unreasonable that a teacher would do this "in this day and age." Her co-host thought it was perfectly acceptable because students should know how to use other research methods, too.

Anyone who knows me can probably guess which stance I took. I am firmly in the 'perfectly acceptable to ban internet use for a time' camp. I am of the opinion that knowing how to get around a library and use the card catalog (which is online itself) are valuable skills that everyone should have. The internet is a wonderful tool but it's not the only one available, therefore shouldn't be the only one relied upon.

There were a lot of reasons tossed around in support of both points of view. Someone mentioned the widespread plagiarism since the advent of the internet. Someone else brought up software that searches out pieces of papers and alerts teachers to possible plagiarism. Someone said that not everyone has a computer and someone else said that there are computers in libraries which brought the library back into the discussion. I brought up the fact that there are an ever increasing number of functional illiterates in our society and I think our lack of actual reading and writing has something to do with that. The woman host said flat-out, "I don't believe that." I laughed at her.

Like any discussion with no definite answer, this one traced itself in many circles. But it was fun to listen and discuss. And I was on the freakin' radio. :grin:

Religion and My Kids

A few choice quotes from my children in the last week, mostly unrelated and from vastly different conversations, either with me or with each other. The first two need no explanation. The last two were overheard during their live action game of Age of Mythology on Saturday.

The Bible says we shouldn't eat pepperoni or bacon so I'm not going to. Daddy doesn't eat pepperoni or bacon.

We have that movie at Daddy's house. We rented it and Daddy made a copy and took the other one back to the store.

All hail, Gaia!!

You didn't give enough favor to Kronos. You should do it again.

Too Creative for His Own Good

Solomon and I had a difficult bedtime last night. He pushed all the wrong buttons and by the time I turned out the light, I was too tense to tuck him in nicely. So I did what I do in that situation and told him that I'd be back in a few minutes to tuck him in.

I left the room to straighten up a few things and cool myself off. As I was organizing my desk, Solomon came out of the room and stood by my elbow. I ignored him for a few seconds, thinking that he might think better of it and go back to bed. He didn't so I turned to look at him.

I heard a sound.

A deep sigh. Go. Back. To. Bed.

He turned, stomped into the bedroom and threw himself on to the bed. It was a very hard landing and I heard creaking from the bunk bed. The kids have had drilled into their heads "Do Not Jump On The Beds" since I made that purchase more than two years ago. It's an automatic time out. I can't believe I am putting a child into time out after bed time, but so be it.

He goes to the spot in the hallway and I start his timer. He was appropriately meek and served his time well.

When the timer beeped, we had the very brief discussion about why he had a time out and why it's not okay to jump on the bed or throw oneself on to the bed. I don't feel the need to belabor this point because it's not a matter of him not understanding by now. But whatever.

I should know better than to ask, but I asked him why he had done it. He thought carefully before responding, "It's because I want to be in the Olympics and I need to practice so I can jump over those hurdles."

Yeah, I laughed, too.

Random Stuff

My post yesterday was the 100th post to be published on my blog. I have a total of 105 posts but 4 of those are in the editing process. Some of them might never be posted if I can't get them right.

It has rained almost non-stop since 7:00 pm on Thursday night. I've loved every minute. Most of it has been a very light rain but some was heavier. This is one of the only times I wish I was on the third floor of this building; then I could hear rain instead of Bigfoot. We had an amazing round of thunder and lightning this afternoon. One thunder roll lasted a full minute. It went on so long I actually became concerned that it wasn't thunder. Here is what the kids splashed in once the rain let up. Sorry for the bad quality -- it's a cell phone picture.



I mentioned a couple of weeks ago that I had seen 4 rainbows in one week. We've seen 3 or 4 more since then. The summer weather in Denver is perfect for rainbows. There is a brief, light rain shower almost every afternoon about 2 hours before sunset. This makes for the perfect angle of sunlight against clouds and dissipating rain. I captured one on my phone.



I think I might be developing a latex allergy. I've been at this job for over 4 months and I use latex gloves at least half a dozen times per day. Latex allergies can show up after repeated exposure and I think it's happening to me. My hands itch a lot at work. I put two and two together on Wednesday last week and started carrying nitrile gloves in my pocket. I noticed a little difference so I'll keep it up and see what happens.

We see quite a bit of wildlife around here. Rabbits are every where. Prairie dogs are every where and then some. There is a stretch of empty road near here with barren fields on both sides. Cresting the hill there can be a bit surreal because occasionally the prairie dogs seem as if they have taken over the road as well as the fields. I haven't hit one yet but I have a bad feeling that it's only a matter of time. Speaking of wildlife, here's a snake we saw one afternoon at Jennifer and Caleb's apartment. Can you see it?



Dinner is an interesting affair here some nights. We discuss our favorite and least favorite parts of the day. Sometimes we talk about the funniest parts of our day, which inevitably includes someone's experience with a fart. Kids. Sometimes we find funny things in our food. These conjoined carrots, for example.



We've been enjoying the Olympics as a family almost every night since the opening ceremonies. I get such a kick out of watching the kids cheer for the athletes. This is the first time they are really big enough to get anything out of the Games. And still, they don't grasp the enormity of it. Solomon asked me tonight if Uncle Jonathan has been in the Olympics. (According to Solomon, Uncle Jonathan hung the moon.)

Their favorite event is 'gernastics' and they keep asking me where the next 'Ulumpics' will be. I've tried correcting the pronunciation but it's not sticking. It's okay, though; by the time the next Olympics rolls around they'll be saying it correctly and I'll miss these mispronunciations. I tried to explain to the kids that the Summer Olympics are every 4 years and the Winter Olympics are every 4 years and that they are evenly spaced. That was a little too much to comprehend, though.

I feel as if there was something else I wanted to say here but I'm drawing a blank now. I guess that means I should wrap this up and go scrub a toilet. Don't you wish you were here?

Conflict

I've spent today being annoyed and happy, by turns.

Annoyed that I couldn't sleep in longer after staying up too late. Happy that at least I didn't have to get up for work.

Annoyed that the kids are bickering with each other. Happy that they are here and not in Albuquerque.

Annoyed that the Olympics are on so late at night. Happy that the Olympics are on.

Annoyed that there is so much school shopping still to do. Happy that I did find everything we need. (And grateful that a lot was provided.)

Annoyed that the boys insist on playing loud 'battle' games. Happy that they are playing together.

Annoyed that my eldest finds it perfectly acceptable to burst out in ear-splitting shouts of joy at the drop of a hat. Happy that he is so happy.

Annoyed that the summer break isn't longer. Happy that the school is such a good one.

All this conflict has given me a headache. I'm annoyed by that. I'm happy that it's bed time.

Beware the Talking Toys

So I'm hooked on The Sims. I could play this game all day if pesky things like work and children didn't get in the way. You think I'm kidding, don't you? I'm not.

The game is pretty interesting. For example, if a Sim leaves his or her child alone in the house, even for 5 minutes, the Sims version of Child Protective Services takes the child away and another Sim family can adopt him. Sims can have fights with each other and apologize afterwards -- or not. Some Sims don't get along simply because their personalities don't mesh well. Child Sims can play with toys. And here's where it gets freaky: they have a talking toy.

Talking toys have always sort of freaked me out. My children have had their fair share and I am less than pleased when they get a new one. They are loud and obnoxious. And they never cease to scare the living daylights out of me at various inopportune moments. Ever stepped on a baby doll in the dark and had it squawk "Ma-ma!" in an otherwise silent house? What about when the batteries run down and the "Ma-ma!" begins to sound like a demon? And my personal favorite are the toys that sense not only when a person is close enough to be engaged in play but hasn't peed her pants in quite some time. That's loads of fun. Needless to say, I'm not a fan of the talking toys.

When I saw that my Sim's child had a talking teddy bear I was intrigued but not necessarily freaked out. After all, the toy is safely ensconced within the parameters of the game; I'm not going to step on it in my children's room at night and it's not going to talk to me in a demon voice. Little did I know what was to happen.

The first time I noticed the talking teddy bear, nothing untoward happened to to my Sim family, or to me for that matter. In the second game I played, I purchased a few toys, including a talking teddy bear, for my Sims' unborn child. One night, while my Sim couple was sleeping peacefully, a burglar broke into their home. Fortunately, my Sim family had an alarm system and the Sim police were summoned to apprehend the criminal. Insurance covered their losses. (See, just like real life, right?)

During the ensuing chaos the pregnant mother was awakened and decided that she would like a bubble bath to calm her nerves. Her poor husband, feeling a little rattled himself, picked up the talking teddy bear from the baby's room and took it to the bathroom to entertain his wife during her bath. She was not amused and her husband left the teddy bear on the floor of the bathroom and went back to bed.

Being a benevolent controller, I noticed that my pregnant Sim mother was beginning to get hungry but she made no move to leave the bathtub. I waited for her hygiene indicator to move all the way to green and she still did not get out of the tub. I told her to leave the tub and get some food. She didn't. Then I noticed that her bladder indicator was nearing a dangerous shade of orange and tried to get her to use the toilet. She remained in her bubble bath.

She sat there for hours until her husband awoke and went to check on her. He attempted to talk her out of the bath and was unsuccessful. Despairing, he went to the kitchen for his own breakfast and I had him call to her again to see if she could be bribed from the tub with food. Nothing. Her poor husband went to work, no doubt hoping she'd be out of the bathtub by the time he came home.

By this time, most personal indicators were in the red zone. Her bladder was dangerously near exploding and her poor stomach was completely empty. Both her social and fun indicators were maxed out in the negative. Somehow, her comfort and environment levels were in the prime green level, though. She was starving and needed to pee in the worst way, but darn it! She was still enjoying the bubble bath.

I was perplexed as to why she would stay in the tub so long when she obviously had other needs and had been told to fulfill them. I watched her for most of the day, hoping that she would move but she didn't. Finally, it occurred to me that maybe she couldn't move. I switched my view of the bathroom and saw that the sink and -- you guessed it -- the talking teddy bear were blocking her way out of the bathtub. I deleted the teddy bear.

When I switched back to the active view, my pregnant Sim mother got out of the tub, dressed herself and was visited by the Grim Reaper. She collapsed on to the floor and an urn appeared in her place.

I was shocked. The diabolical talking teddy bear killed her! She was too freaked out by the stinking thing to get out of the bathtub. And so she starved to death. The senseless devastation!

And then I was alerted to her husband coming home from work. If I was this torn up, imagine his sadness at seeing the remains of his wife and baby in an urn on the bathroom floor!! I didn't think he could handle it. First the robbery, then this?! He'd never recover.

I did the only logical thing I could do. I quit the game without saving before he came upstairs.

Seen on a T-shirt Today

Jesus Loves You
But I'm His Favorite

Really? Really? I don't think there was anything in Jesus' message that suggested he was out to play favorites. In fact, most stories about Jesus point out his fairness and equality.

I could see this t-shirt being somewhat sarcastic in a ridiculing manner if it were worn by someone who is anti-Christian. But the woman wearing this t-shirt today is an acquaintance of mine and I know she calls herself a Christian. I am confused.

Children See. Children Do.

This video actually moved me to tears.

Thursday Thirteen: Reasons to Smile This Week

1. The kids have wanted to sleep with me every night since they came home.

2. One of the doctors brought a "That Was Easy" button to work today. He told me to drop something and ask him to pick it up. I dropped my pen and he picked it up, pushed the button in his lab coat pocket and laughed hysterically.

3. The little girl that yelled "I just farted on the doctor's chair!"

4. The other little girl that swore up and down that there was nothing wrong with her stomach. Or her ears. Or her eyes. Or her throat. Or anything else.

5. The boy that looked at me after I put on his band-aid and said, with utmost sincerity, "I'll take care of this because it's a boo-boo."

6. Samuel saying "I'm sleepy. Can we go somewhere else fun now?" as we were headed home.

7. The thrilled "Mommy!" (complete with neck-breaking hugs) I get when I pick up the kids every day after work.

8. Solomon offering to let Samuel play the new video game first even though he was dying to play. I didn't even prompt him to do it.

9. The picture Miriam drew for me yesterday just because she missed me while I was at work.

10. Thanks to a community organization, all the kids' school supplies are packed up and ready to go in two weeks. Dang it! Make that one week!

11. Brownies.

12. The long, slow, soaking rain yesterday and today's much cooler temperatures.

13. My new guaranteed 3-day weekends every week.

Generalizations Are Not Your Friends

Generalizations irk me. They don't fit, they're judgemental and when a person uses them they come off looking uneducated and irrational. Yeah, that's a generalization there. Sue me.

I get particularly peeved when generalizations are used with regards to poverty, race, health, culture and family size. These particular issues bother me for several reasons: I am a mother to biracial children, daughter to parents of 8 children, a nurse and my most desired career is in public service to the poverty-stricken. So yeah, it bugs me. Sue me again.

This week I had a hard time remaining civil at work. I was dealing with a difficult mother and her large family. To be fair, she was being unreasonable and causing a lot of extra work for me, my supervising doctor and another provider. But she is not the reason I became so angry.

Another nurse saw fit to butt in and say, "Oh, they're Medicaid - lazy." I looked her straight in the eye and said, "My children have Medicaid," and added silently, "And I work 10 times harder than you do any day of the week." She stuttered and back-pedaled. An uncomfortable pause ensued. I guess she thought she could lighten the situation so she ate her foot again. "How can somebody even have that many kids? And still be sane?" I took a deep breath, looked at her again and said, "My parents have 8 children and are quite sane." She shut up then.

I will be the first to admit that I get more than frustrated with people who are difficult or irrational. But I pride myself on being very particular about my frustration. I'm not irritated with someone because of their medical coverage, their family planning choices, their choice of names for their children or anything else unrelated.

Jerks come in all shapes, sizes, colors and socio-economic divisions. Trying to pinpoint their origins is close-minded and useless.

It Is What It Is?

There is a sign on a bus stop near here that says:

Oatmeal Stout
Pale Ale
BEER

It is what it is.

Underneath all of that there is a picture of Grape Nuts cereal. I think the ad executives want to emphasize how simple and natural Grape Nuts cereal is, but they're failing in that goal. I look at the sign and think, "How is Grape Nuts cereal really grapes and nuts?" There are no grapes and there are no nuts so this slogan does not work.

If the sign is going to work, there needs to be a picture of Grape Nuts with a red line through it and text reading "Sand and pea gravel to tear up the inside of your mouth. Oh, and it tastes like cardboard." I suppose that wouldn't be a successful ad campaign, though.

I Wish I Didn't Know This

I checked in a patient recently and her mother had a certain look about her. It's a look that I have learned to associate with meth addicts. It usually accompanies nervous chattering and the inability to stay on subject. Obviously it's disconcerting for a number of reasons, the worst of which is that this woman is responsible for a child.

The thing that saddened me is that I didn't consciously think 'meth addict' while checking them in. But later I saw a notation in the chart by a provider that said the parents have a history of meth use and realized that it didn't suprise me. I have seen it too often now.

More Raling Against Society

Our kids are normal kids and that means they are plugged in 24 hours a day.

There is a commercial on television now that says that. I cringe every time I hear it because being "plugged in" is normal now. And it shouldn't be. Electronic devices are great and useful and we couldn't live our lives without a lot of them. But it shouldn't be normal to be "plugged in" 24 hours a day.

Sigh. I am glad to be abnormal if this is the new normal.

Thursday Thirteen: Things I Did in the Last Week

1. Decorated my patio with plants, mini-lanterns and an outdoor carpet. I love sitting out there now.

2. Worked on some more scrap booking. This is going to be a never-ending project but I really like it.

3. Had a needle stick at work. I still can't believe it actually happened.

4. Had blood drawn for tests after the needle stick. I have to go back in 6 months for the follow up blood work.

5. Saw 4 rainbows. Really, 4.

6. Ate half of a chocolate mousse cheesecake and I still want more.

7. Failed at playing the Sims 2. My Sim is an aged penniless peon. The game actually said that to me.

8. Taught myself how to use a big drill.

9. Opened a new savings account.

10. Rode the Light Rail downtown and back. There are some interesting people using public transportation.

11. Got a new haircut. I'm still playing with it and trying to figure out what to do with it.

12. Got completely soaked in a 5 minute thunderstorm. I wish it had lasted longer.

13. Had an amazing dinner at Carraba’s. It’s my new favorite restaurant. The sangria is really, really good.

Common Sense: Blood Cell Reproduction

We can do a quick urinalysis in the office at work. It takes less than 2 minutes and tells if there are red blood cells, white blood cells, ketones, bilirubin, protein, nitrites, glucose and a few other things present in the urine. Understandably, the sooner we do the test after the sample is given, the more accurate it is. However, if there are things like RBCs and WBCs present in the sample when it's given, they will be there in the same numbers even if the test is run later. RBCs and WBCs cannot reproduce spontaneously in a cup of urine. They just can't. Someone I work with does not understand this. I do not understand how she does not understand it.

P.S. -- Happy birthday, Jennifer!

Thursday Thirteen: the Internet

I forgot. Oops. So I'm pretending today is Thursday.

Thirteen things I like about the internet:

1. I can find out anything I want to know. And even some things I didn't want to know.

2. I can (and do) talk with people all over the world.

3. Myspace and Facebook have let me catch up with old friends that I otherwise wouldn't know anything about now.

4. Blogging.

5. Online banking.

6. Google Maps.

7. Picture hosting, slide shows, photo editing.

8. Sites like Post Secret, Overheard in New York and I Can Haz Cheezburger that make me laugh until my stomach hurts.

9. Yellow Pages. They're so much easier than the real Yellow Pages.

10. Requesting library books in my pajamas.

11. My kids can play pretty cool games and watch videos of their favorite shows.

12. Online classes. I definitely prefer real classrooms to virtual ones, but without virtual ones I couldn't have gone back to school.

13. Office webisodes.

My Birthday

I was thinking about my past birthdays this morning. Most have been relatively uneventful but still memorable in their own way. Others have consisted of elaborate plans and lots of memories.

I don't remember my first birthday, but I've seen the pictures. I sat on the table in a diaper and smeared myself with chocolate frosting from my very own cake. That's been a big family tradition.

I do remember my second birthday. Most people don't believe me when I say that. They think it's because I've seen the pictures of it and I only think I remember it. But they're wrong. Mom made me a castle cake with Cinderella sitting outside it. It was pink. Very pink. All of that is in the pictures. What does not show are the Pringles cans that made up the castle towers. I remember watching Mom cover them in icing. It seemed to take forever.

Other birthdays run together in a blur. There were several that Jennifer and I celebrated together since our birthdays are 6 days apart. We had a birthday party in the big red caboose at McDonald's one year. Another year, we had a party at Granny and Paw Paw's house. We had two cakes; one was yellow with pink decorations and the other was pink with yellow decorations. I don't remember which was mine and which was Jennifer's.

I got a bike for my fifth birthday. I picked it out from the models at the store and Dad said we needed to find the actual box so we could take it home and put it together. The thought of waiting on it to be put together so disappointed me that the sales person said we could take the floor model. I was thrilled.

There was the year that Mom and Dad let Jennifer and me point out a few things in the toy department that we wanted. I thought we were giving specific instructions so I was a little pouty when I opened my presents and they were slightly different. I still feel bad about that.

Jennifer and I got new bikes when we were 7 and 9, respectively. They were identical 10-speeds and we thought we were hot stuff. We rode those bikes every where. Someone tried to steal them once. I'm a little foggy on the details but Jennifer remembers it better than I do.

On my thirteenth birthday, Mom told me she would make any dinner I wanted. I found some recipes in a magazine and she did it. We had roast beef sandwiches, cucumber salad and a dessert that I can't remember now. I also got my ears pierced on my thirteenth birthday.

My sixteenth birthday was a lot of fun. I had a sleepover with my best friend. We stayed up all night and watched all 4 Jaws movies. Then we scared ourselves silly in her pool. I left for a mission trip in Birmingham on my actual birthday.

My eighteenth birthday was notable because we were awaiting the arrival of my youngest sister, Elizabeth. I also learned to drive that summer.

I spent my twenty-first birthday nursing my 6-week-old baby and marveling at how much my life had changed in just a year. Not the typical American twenty-first birthday, was it?

My twenty-fifth birthday was the last day of our family trip to Disneyland. We missed a flight to Phoenix (not our fault), got re-routed to Las Vegas and grounded in Las Vegas due to 114 F temperatures. We got a free room at the Monte Carlo and spent 48 hours taking in Vegas. If it weren't for the divorce clouds looming overhead, it would have been a fantastic detour.

I was at Lake Tahoe for my twenty-sixth birthday. A boyfriend (ex) and I had a helicopter ride over the lake, a cruise around the lake and saw a Rascal Flatts concert. Definitely a memorable birthday.

Last year, another boyfriend (ex) and I had a good time. There were flowers, dinner, a movie and some wine. The wine wasn't so great, but it was a fun night. The wine was actually kind of funny.

This year has been a good birthday, too. I had to work today, but it wasn't so bad. I went to lunch with some co-workers and was completely embarrassed when the servers chanted the Happy Birthday song and brought ice cream and balloons. I'm eating dinner with Jennifer and Caleb (homemade pizza!). This weekend we are headed to a music festival downtown. I am looking forward to some great music, great laughs, great drinks, a great time in general.

And I am not dreading being 29, either. I'm not even dreading being 30 in 364 days. I don't feel much different than I did at 19 so I'm good with this age thing.

Personality and Cars

Since I decided to make the addition of bumper stickers to my vehicle, I've begun paying close attention to the decoration on other cars. I've seen ones that made me laugh out loud, others that made me mad and some that are just lame. What I find interesting is that you can sometimes tell what kind of person owns the car if they have a couple of bumper stickers plastered on it. At least, I like to pretend I can.

The other thing I find interesting is that I often see the same cars on my route to work every morning. Traffic here is extremely heavy and one would think that I'd never see the same car twice and know it. But when someone has bumper stickers or personalized vanity plates, it's easy to pick them out if you pay a little attention.

There is one car, for example, driven by a matronly grandmother-type. She drives an older Oldsmobile with two stickers on it. One says "Honor Mother Nature" and the other says "It's our turn to nurture the earth." I picture her living in a small cottage house with a vegetable garden fed by her own compost pile. She recycles and conserves water as much as she can. She may or may not have a cat.

There is another car that I see turning into the hospital parking lot with me almost every morning. It's a new Corvette driven by a woman who appears to be in her mid-forties with bleached blond hair. She has eight Pink Ribbon magnets on the sides of her car, all in different sizes. I'm not sure what the story is there. Is she that committed to a cure? Has she known eight women with breast cancer? Does she have breast cancer? Maybe she just likes pink. Whatever it is, I'd like to know her story.

I often see a Mercedes with a vanity plate that clearly identifies the driver as a proud plastic surgeon. He's always on his phone, trying to drive at least 10 miles per hour over the speed limit, weaving in and out of traffic. I've seen him attempt to pass people on the right shoulder. He kind of scares me. I imagine him living in a huge house with a pool or maybe a tennis court and no time to enjoy any of it.

While driving between here and Raton I've seen a lot of interesting stickers. Granted, I don't see those vehicles again, but they are still interesting.

Last time I saw a Jeep with a particularly funny sticker. The sticker said "Get a taste of religion: Lick a witch." It also had a couple of other stickers with pagan symbols on it. It was driven by a heavy-set man with a long beard and long hair. I couldn't tell where his hair ended and his beard began.

On my way back to Denver I passed a Subaru with a sticker that said "Bark less, wag more." I've seen this sticker before. It's usually chosen by dog lovers who believe we should correlate more in our life with those things in a dog's life. I tend to agree. Most dogs are loveable, playful, simple in their wants and needs, eager to please. Maybe our world would be a better place if we lived more like that.

I also saw an RV with a sticker that simply said "Be nice." I couldn't agree more. Being nice is simple and good. One rarely goes wrong by being nice. Thus ends my philosophical ramblings on personal vehicular expression.

The Worst Thing on Television

I came across a reality show last night that made me angrier than any television show really has a right to. It's about 16-year-old girls and their Super Sweet Sixteen parties, complete with tiaras and rhinestones and, in some cases apparently, 7 carat diamonds. With these girls, the sky is the limit. Costume changes, rap artists, $5,000 gowns, $100,000 cars. All for one party. Seriously.

I don't know where to start, so I'll just start with the beginning. The show I watched centered around a girl that describes herself as "the pretty, rich girl that always gets what she wants." I'm sorry, but if my child ever describes herself this way, I will consider myself a pathetic failure as a parent.

The opening clips of the show include Miss Sweet Sixteen shopping for a mink coat. The sales person states the cost of the coat at $27,000. The girl's father says, "Whatever you want. It's your world, we just live in it." My jaw hit the floor. The show then moves on to show the girl giving orders to her party planner and saying that she wants all her friends to "know what it's like to be me, for just one day. Because I have an awesome life."

Just to invite her friends to her sixteenth birthday party, she invited them all to her house and had a helicopter drop keys to treasure boxes on the lawn. Each of her friends had their own treasure box with their invitation locked inside. I'd like to know what scheme she cooked up for inviting them all to the pre-party invitation party. If it didn't include hand-delivered invitations in gold leaf, I'll be disappointed.

Later on, she goes shopping for her main party dress. She tries on countless outfits, each shorter than the last and all covered in sparkles. Apparently the sparkles were the key. I lost track of how many times she gushed, "Oooh, I just love all the sparkles." Finally, it comes time to choose one party dress: the sparkly green one or the sparkly beige one. She agonizes, "This is the hardest decision of my life!" before deciding on the beige one. Her mother forks over a credit card to the tune of $6270. Miss Sweet Sixteen pronounces it a 'good number.' I'm still trying to figure out exactly what she meant by that.

On the day of the party, tragedy struck. The party planner announced that the costume for her grand entrance might not work if she's going to ride on the elephant. I am not kidding. Something about sparkles and the contraption on the elephant's back. Miss Sweet Sixteen laments, "If this costume doesn't work out, the whole party is going to be a disaster. It has to work. I'm wearing it." Later on, I laughed my butt off when her costume headdress clotheslined her on the streamers over the entrance walk.

The rest of the party went off like you probably expect by now. Hundreds of kids screaming that this is the best party of their young lives, even future parties. Miss Sweet Sixteen doing the bump and grind with half a dozen hungry-for-the-spotlight teen boys. A 6-layer cake that scared Miss Sweet Sixteen half to death with the sparklers and fireworks coming from it. One of the final shots of the party is a boy screaming, "Miss Sweet Sixteen is the most generous girl ever!" Uh, sorry to burst your bubble, but that's not called generosity. It's called attention whoring.

I can't believe the example this television show is encouraging America's teens to emulate. Do we really need to encourage kids to be more selfish? What a waste. I wonder what's going to happen to Miss Sweet Sixteen when the gravy train is gone? I wonder if she'll still think she has "an awesome life?"

Thunderstorms

I love thunderstorms. I love the sounds of the rain and thunder, the flashing of the lightning and most especially the smell. I even enjoy the occasional hail stone.

Texas has some amazing thunderstorms. Last summer was heaven for me. There were several major ones -- ones that began in the early evening and lasted all night. Thunder woke me up a few times and I loved lying in bed and listening to it. When things calmed down, I fell asleep again to the sound of the rain on the windows and on the roof.

I really miss the fantastic thunderstorms in Texas. Thunderstorms are rare in Colorado. I think the worst part is that I am teased way too often. It's very common to see huge rain clouds coming over the mountains. A huge swathe of the sky turns black and I can tell it's raining on the foothills. But then it all dries up and blows away before anything happens here.

We did have a pretty nice thunderstorm this evening, though. There was bona fide window-rumbling thunder and some beautiful lightning. It didn't last long but I soaked it up while I could.

How's That?

One of my patients today was a 6-month-old baby, in for a well check. There is a place on the exam form for the baby's exact age. I tend to make chit chat with the parents so it's not so quiet in the room and I said, "So she's six months and one day old today."

Um, no she's actually six months, two weeks and two days old.

Isn't her birthday December twenty-third?

Yes.

Okay, well December twenty-third to June twenty-third is six months, plus today. Six months, one day.

But babies' ages are measured in weeks. And she's about six-and-a-half months old since some months have five weeks and some have four weeks.

No month has five entire weeks in it. If you want to get technical, each month has approximately four-point-three weeks in it. December twenty-third to June twenty-third is six months.

Well. :sniffs and turns her head away:

Vocabulary Lesson

I learned a new Spanish slang word. It is tumbaburros and it means to be drowsy. However, when broken down and translated literally, it means to knock down a donkey. Tumbar is to knock something over and burro is donkey. Spanish is funny like that. Gives whole new meaning to the phrase 'knock you on your ass,' doesn't it?

Solomon vs. Wild

Solomon's favorite television show is Man vs. Wild. He just finished watching a particularly interesting episode in which the host makes his way across Siberia in search of the Trans Siberian Railway. As Bear Grylls is jumping triumphantly on to the back of a train, Solomon says, "When that guy gets too old to make this show, I am going to take over for him."

Fun Was Had By All

We spent a beautiful afternoon by the pool. It was warm and sunny. The water was cool and relaxing.

The kids had so much fun. Solomon and Noah practiced cannonballs. Miriam perfected floating on a swim noodle. Adam and Samuel tried blowing water explosions out of their swim noodles. There was lots of laughing. Jennifer and I got comfortable on the lounge chairs and talked about the kids, work, family and all that other stuff. We all snacked on fresh watermelon and cherries.

The pool was busy. Three couples tossed a football around in the deep end. A few people listened to music. A group of girls in their late teens sat across the way with only one objective: to get the perfect tan.

Everyone was having a great time. But the kid having the best time was the 10-year-old, hiding under his beach towel and having fun all on his own. He was really enjoying himself.

Recent Kid Quotes

Solomon: Mom, I just saw a movie star!!
:points to a 6-foot-tall Oopma Loompa look-alike:

Samuel: Mommy, I love you muches more than the galaxy.

Miriam: Your belly is wrinkly. Is that because we were all in there?

Solomon: I can't think. My brain is dusty.

Miriam: I'm sweating like one thousand pigs.

Solomon: I'm pretty sure that two spiders bit me. The poison is in my blood now.

Voluntary Ignorance

It became obvious soon after I started this job that I disagree with most of my co-workers when it comes to politics. It rarely comes up though, and when it does I tend to keep my mouth shut because I am clearly in the minority. I just don't want to go there with these people.

I had lunch with 3 co-workers today. I've had lunch with them before and we have a good time. They are funny women and, even better, they think I'm funny. Today's lunch wasn't quite as light-hearted as past ones because the issue of the presidential race came up.

When the subject of candidates was broached, one woman said to me, "I know you like Obama, honey, because I saw your bumper sticker, but I just wanted to let you know you should research him a bit."

I was taken aback for a couple of reasons. One, I don't know how or when she saw my car. We park in an enormous hospital parking lot and I don't remember once seeing her in the parking lot, either before or after work. How does she know what I drive? Two, it surprised me that someone would think I'd just stick something to my car without thinking about it first.

However, I recovered and asked what she meant. She replied with, "Oh, you know, where he comes from and all that." I asked her to clarify if she meant where he was born or his family or religion or voting record or if he likes peanuts or pretzels. She said again, "You know, where he comes from," and gave me a knowing little nod. I answered that I have done some research on both Obama and McCain and I'm pretty confident in my choice. She looked surprised but she didn't say anything else.

Now, I have no issue whatsoever with someone who votes differently than I do. Live and let live, right? I do have a problem with people who treat me in a condescending way and assume I have no clue what I'm talking about. It's even worse when that same person can't be bothered to pin down her own meaning and give me a clear picture of her intent. Why push me to research candidates if she doesn't even know what she wants me to research?

I think I'll go back to keeping my mouth shut.

Whom Does Jesus Love?

I was looking at more bumper stickers tonight and Miriam was sitting with me. We came across one that read, "Jesus loves real men." Miriam saw it and said, "What?! Jesus doesn't love real girls?!"

She Is Not Fooled

You may remember my recent post about No More Spider/Monster Spray. The No More Monster Spray was called into action tonight for the bedroom closet.

Samuel: Mommy, I'm scared of the monsters in my closet.

Me: Okay, hang on. :goes to get the spray:

Miriam: Samuel, monsters aren't even real. :rolls her eyes:

Samuel: Yes, they are!!!

Miriam: Nuh-huh!!!

Me: Miriam, please be quiet. :sprays the closet:

Miram: What is that stuff really?

Me: It's No More Spid-, I mean No More Monster Spray.

Update on New Year's Resolutions

Seeing as the mid-point of 2008 is quickly approaching, I thought I'd give an overview on my New Year's Resolutions. It's always a good thing to assess and evaluate one's progress, right? In case you don't remember, I decided that the year's theme would be to Do Stuff on Purpose. Specifically, I planned to seek out outdoor activities and to find new books, music and art. I was also going to write down the little stuff in my journal.

I completed my move to Colorado. If that's not doing something On Purpose, I don't know what is. Almost no one packs up all their stuff and moves 700 miles away without meaning to.

All 3 children have bikes and are getting quite good on them now. They are proudly boasting shins and knees full of scrapes and bruises to prove their hard work. I haven't bought my bike yet. I don't see much reason for it until the kids are riding faster than I jog. We get out and bike/jog on the path near our apartment whenever we can. We've also started hiking and flying kites.

I bought camping gear to add to our outdoor activities. We have used our tent and sleeping bags once, but that trip was cut short due to the unfortunate timing of a nasty stomach virus. Trust me, you don't want to know the rest.

Finding new music has been easy since moving here. My favorite radio station plays at least one song I've never heard every day. Sometimes they are good, sometimes they aren't. I've also been hounding Caleb and Jennifer; they have great taste in music and know wonderful artists that I want to know.

Finding new books has been a little more difficult, partly because I haven't had much time for reading. But the biggest reason that it has been hard is that I read an amazing book that made it hard to get into anything else for a while. It was one of those books that I was truly sad to finish. I started, stopped, started again and finally gave up on 3 books after that one because I just couldn't let it go. Fortunately, I am back on track now. (In case you want to read it, the amazing book is Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides.)

I realized recently that all the books I love are books that I want my children to love, too. Obviously, they can't read most of them (nor would I want them to read a few of them for several more years!) for themselves. But then it occurred to me that they are finally mature enough to listen to longer books without pictures and I can make a project out of reading great series of books to them. We have started with The Chronicles of Narnia. We are half way through The Magician's Nephew and they are loving it.

The kids and I have discovered origami. There is a neat little section of our On Demand cable menu that posts videos of how to fold certain shapes. We invested in a beginner's kit and an extra envelope of special paper. It's pretty fun. The kids are getting really good at matching the edges of the paper and making sharp creases. That has to do something for their fine motor skills and hand-eye coordination, right? In any case, it keeps them out of my hair for 15 minutes when I need it.

As for journaling and blogging ... well, the blog speaks for itself. My journal has been rather neglected lately since so much information goes here. I'll work on that. I've also made some steps in the right direction for scrapbooking. I asked for scrapbooking supplies for Christmas but I haven't done much with them yet. Last week I spent $16 on prints from Snapfish so I can begin filling those scrapbooks. I can't wait for them to get here.

So, there you have it. The year is half over and we are well on our way to living a more active and creative life. It's kind of fun to make New Year's resolutions and actually keep them.

Bumper Stickers

My vehicle is now 10 years old and has collected enough bumps, dents, scratches and dings that I no longer care a great deal what it looks like. I only fixed the cracked windshield because I was afraid it might cave in on me whilst speeding down the interstate. That would be inconvenient, to say the least.

Because I don't care about the appearance of my car I decided to go all the way and add some colorful stickers. As with most things, I am picky about what I will put on it. (This is a perfect example of how conflicted I am; I don't mind driving a tacky vehicle, but it has to be tacky in the way I want it to be.) I have scoured the internet for the specific stickers I want and I have found almost all of them. My only fear now is that the stickers will long outlast my car.

While looking for my stickers, I came across several interesting ones. Most of these will never be considered seriously for my collection but I like them just the same, either because they are funny or because they are true or because they are both funny and true. A few of the best:

My child doesn't need validation from a bumper sticker.

If trees screamed would we still cut them down? Probably, if they screamed all the time.

I'm a PBS mind in an MTV world.

People would rather be wrong than different.

It is neither possible nor necessary to educate people who never question anything. John Heller

Manifest plainness, embrace simplicity, reduce selfishness, have few desires. Lao-Tzu

When the rapture comes, can I have your car?

Your possessions own you.

Democrats make better lovers. (Whoever heard of a great piece of elephant?)

I Had a Vision

I saw a family today that gave me a glimpse into what may be ahead for me in a few years; two boys and a girl, the girl was the middle child. I say they are siblings because the three of them looked like clones of their father. There was another boy with them that I am guessing was a friend or cousin. The children appeared to range in age from 6 to about 12 or so.

These four children were playing very well together, obviously having a fabulous time. After a few minutes, I heard intentional belching coming from their little group. I looked over to see the eldest boy egging on the younger boys. Then, quite shockingly, the girl burped louder and longer than any of the boys. They were awed. I was too, honestly.

I couldn't help seeing the similarities between this group of children and my own children with their cousins. I wonder if my daughter, surrounded by males as she is, will be a world-class belcher?

Eight Years of Moments

Yesterday marked 8 years since I became a mother. I can hardly believe it. Even harder to believe is that in 2 years, I'll have been at this for a decade. This is the longest I have been committed to one activity, ever. I think it's safe to say that this will be my life's work.

The magnitude of this job overwhelms me at times. Three human beings ... infancy to adulthood and everything that encompasses ... wow. Other times, I concentrate on the moments and it's not such a big deal. Brushing teeth and putting on pajamas isn't a daunting task (most nights). Neither is driving children to school at 7:45 AM. They're just things to be done and when they are all added up, it's life. In 20 years, I'll look back and wonder where all the moments went.

Some moments are exhilarating. All The Great Firsts are seared into my memory: the first spoken words, the first read words, the first teeth, the first loose teeth, riding the first bike, buying the first school supplies, seeing the first steps, the first screaming bath in the nursery.

Some moments are terrifying, like leaving my sobbing daughter in a classroom for the first time. In that moment, I know she will be fine; she has the same wonderful teacher that her brother had last year. But she's my crying baby and all I want to do is scoop her up, promising that she will never be back there. Being a rational parent means realizing that this isn't feasible; if she doesn't stay for this first day, there will be another first day somewhere else and it won't be easier. So I push through that awful moment, knowing that the subsequent morning drop-offs will only get easier.

Some moments are surprising in their simplicity. The moments I've spent snuggled into bed with the kids and telling them about my own childhood are special to all of us. It's something I experienced with my parents and I am now making a point of it with my children. Other times spent silly dancing in the kitchen or playing I Spy on road trips are no less special than The Great Firsts. I hope my children will look back on their childhoods and remember these, as well as the big moments.

So, here's to the last 8 years, and to all that will follow.

Keep Your Dog on a Leash. Please.

Colorado is a very dog-loving place. People are constantly walking dogs, running dogs, playing with dogs, transporting dogs, hugging dogs, picking up after dogs. It's a very happening place for dogs.

Initially, I thought this was great. Two of my three children are rather frightened of dogs and I've been doing all I can for the past few years to help them get over their fears. When we moved here and I saw all the dogs, I thought this would be a great place to continue that.

Lately I've come to second-guess those thoughts, though. A dozen times in the last couple of months, my little family and I have been outside enjoying the fresh air when a dog wandered over to sniff us or something near us. Each time there was an apologetic owner behind them. It always goes something like this, "I'm sorry, she's a really nice dog and just loves kids." Most of the time we have been in areas that are designated 'leash areas.'

Now, I have no problem with dogs themselves. What I do have a problem with is owners who think that having a nice dog gives them license to ignore leash laws. Their nice dog is overly friendly to my children. This is not a good thing when a child is already scared of dogs. One overly friendly dog can un-do in five seconds what I have accomplished in an entire year of dog acclimation with my kids. Careless dog owners are not helping me help my kids and it's really irritating me.

The most recent offender met us on the stairs this morning. When I opened the door to go out, I heard what sounded like two very exuberant dogs communicating with each other. I peeked out the landing window to be sure that both dogs were on leashes. One was not. I could not see its human any where. As I debated whether to head down the stairs or go back inside to avoid it knocking over my child, it came bounding up the stairs at us. Twenty paces behind was a young guy who laughed and said, "Sorry, it's really okay. He's fine."

Um, it's really not okay. Your dog may be fine, but my kid is cowering behind me with his heart pounding out of his chest. It's not fine.

I Miss This

It has been a hectic several days. I have had fleeting thoughts of this place and even a few ideas for writing. Something always comes up though and I rush off to the next activity before I finish a whole post. Never fear, however -- I shall return. And when I do, I'm sure the words will just come tumbling out.

I Shall Smite Thee

I belong to an internet message board. It's a regular part of my internet life and for the most part, it remains safely ensconced within that boundary. There are occasions, however, when the message board seeps into my Real Life.

Most recently, it's been with the smiting of people. See, on this particular message board, there is this karma function. You can use it to smite someone or applaud them, according to your whim. The vast majority of the time, karma is left alone and no one really thinks about it except for silly little jokes. Lately, I've found myself wanting to give people internet smites in my Real Life.

Use the phrase 'puppy niece' one too many times in my presence and you may find yourself the recipient of my personal smite.

Cut me off in traffic?

Smite.

Offer me two sizes of coffee and call them medium and large?

Smite.

Allow your child to shred the exam table paper all over the room and not pick up at least some of it?

Smite. Repeatedly.

Sometimes I Annoy Myself

I have a little problem. Clutter stresses me out. At work we all switch desks, depending on the nurses working and which doctors are in the office that day. There is only one desk that is acceptable to me. The others are piled with papers, post-its, pens, paper clips and dust. It's very troubling.

I'm the same way at home. I have figured out my own system for keeping the clutter at bay and it works for me, as long as I have some time to devote to de-cluttering every week. If, for some reason, I don't have time to take care of little things here and there, I get irritable. If things pile up too much, I get down right grouchy.

At that point, I have to stage an intervention on myself due to the condition of my own house. We eat cereal and sandwiches for a weekend, the kids watch way too much tv and I clean, de-clutter and toss stuff for 48 hours. It's pretty exhilerating.

Every once in a while, the breaking point occurs at the same time the kids are gone for a few days. This is convenient because then I can get everything done much more quickly and not feel as if I'm border-line neglecting them.

The aforementioned problem occurs when I get so caught up in the organizing and cleaning that I can't relax. I'll cook dinner with the intention of eating and watching a movie. When I'm done eating, the kitchen has to be cleaned immediately or I won't enjoy the movie. Then I'll realize that the floor needs to be swept. I might as well mop, too. Which leads to the bathroom floors. And that reminds me that the bathroom trash cans are full. When they're emptied I see that the big trash can is full and carry it to the dumpster. Surely you see where this is going.

And so we return to the title -- Sometimes I just really annoy myself.

Kite Flying

We flew kites today. I had been planning to take the kids out with their kites for the last two weeks, but the weather was either too cold or not windy enough. Or there was other stuff to do.

Today was perfect, though. Nothing else to do, sunny, cool and with a perfect wind. So we headed to an open field with our kites. As we crossed the street, I saw a huge gray cloud in the distance. No big deal, we see them all the time since we are on high ground.

As I was putting together the first kite, the wind picked up a lot. The temperature dropped noticeably. Then, all of a sudden, it started to rain. Wait. That's not rain, it's actually frozen, making it sleet or hail or snow -- whatever you call it, it's frozen and it stings when it hits. Samuel was stumbling around blindly because he didn't want to open his eyes.

We took cover in Jennifer and Caleb's van and tried to decide if we should wait it out, or call it quits. Just as I was getting really disappointed and about to suggest that we leave, the snow/hail/sleet/rain blew over and it was sunny again. Weird Colorado.

Anyway, we had a great time flying our kites. The kids took to it really well, especially Miriam. She couldn't get her kite off the ground, but if someone else did it for her, she could control it and keep it from crashing. Yay!

We were having so much fun running around the field to avoid crashing kites that we didn't even notice the inches of mud caking up on our shoes. The grass in the field is pretty new and it is in very loose soil. The little bit of moisture that fell made a subtle mud that we didn't notice until it was too late. The kids thought this was hilarious. We spent a good ten minutes scraping mud off of everyone's shoes after we put away the kites.

All in all, a great afternoon! I can't wait to take the kids out for it again.

It's Definitely a Very Small World

Yesterday I checked in a patient that had just returned from out of town. Her parents were following up with their doctor here because she'd been very sick and had to be admitted to the hospital. Her mother handed me the hospital discharge summary. It was in Fort Smith; the very hospital where I did nursing clinicals 8 years ago.

At Chick-Fil-A today, I mentioned to the cashier that we recently moved here from Texas. He asked where in Texas and I told him Midland. As I took another breath to explain where that is -- because no one ever knows -- he said, "No way, that's where I grew up!"

Sometimes life is so weird, I wouldn't believe it if I weren't living it.

My Card

I took the kids shopping for Mom's Mother's Day card. While I was looking for the perfect, not-too-mushy card for Mom, Miriam asked if she could pick out a card. I said she could, after all, card shopping takes a while.

After several minutes, I had about forgotten that Miriam was also shopping when she tapped my arm. She held up a card and asked, "Can we get this for you?" I said yes again and then she asked me to read it. Well, it's not Mother's Day yet but I can't really refuse to read the card that she picked for me. Besides, when I am paying for my own Mother's Day card, all the rules change, right? Ha!

Now, it's cutsey and mushy and glittery and if my own child hadn't picked it out for me, I never would have given it a second look. But the fact that my daughter read several cards in the display and picked this one, made me tear up. Yes, I am a complete and total sap.

So here's what it says:

I may be just a little kid,

but I'm big enough to know

my mommy thinks I'm really sweet

and loves to tell me so.

I may be just a little kid,

but I'm big enough to feel

the love my mommy has for me,

so cozy, warm and real.

I may be just a little kid,

but I'm big enough to see

that of all the mommies in the world,

My mommy's the best for ME!

I told you it was cutesy. But it's the first time any of my children have picked a card specifically for me. It's like the first time Solomon, at age 3, gave me his own glued, scribbled construction paper picture frame with a Polaroid of him in the middle. It took my breath away.

Bigfoot is in Overdrive

Good grief! It's stomping around now as if it wants to break through my ceiling. Plus, it is vacuuming. That vacuum is louder than the foot stomps, if you can imagine that. How can one creature make so much noise? How?!

I thought about thumping on my ceiling with the broom handle in hopes of making it aware of how thin the barrier between us is. But then I thought better of it; it's best not to anger it. I need to invest in some industrial strength ear plugs. Maybe the kind used by construction guys working the jack hammer?

I think I'm going to lose my mind.

The Worst Thing

The worst thing someone can do to me -- other than harm my children -- is to lie to me. I hate it more than anything else in the world. And that's really saying something if you consider how much I hate when people interrupt me or talk at me with food falling out of their mouths.

This is why I am still awake at 12:45 on a Wednesday morning. One of the reasons that being lied to makes me so angry is that I am the one stuck not being able to sleep. I didn't do anything wrong and yet, here I am, wide awake.

I could go on for a long time about all the reasons that I hate dishonesty, but I think those reasons are fairly obvious to decent human beings. Plus, I'd probably end up writing out some totally nonsensical garbage since I am both mad and tired.

To sum up, I hate dishonesty with the heat of a thousand white-hot suns.

Hiking

We went hiking today. The kids really surprised me. We trekked 2.7 miles in the foothills and there were surprisingly few complaints. They even said they had fun. Imagine that.

For Your Giggling Pleasure

Samuel: Mommy, can I take off my shirt?
Me: Why?
Samuel: Because wearing my shirt is just so boring!


He's now pushing a Tonka truck with his green teddy bear in the back, sans shirt. I'm not sure how this is so much more exciting than the same activity with a shirt, but he's thrilled.

The Perfect Storm

I have two rather extensive computer labs due tomorrow. I have a pharmacology exam due on Monday. The final is Wednesday. The final for my computer class is due on Tuesday and it has be taken in the presence of a proctor. The proctor is never available to schedule testing time.

I have a headache that ibuprofen isn't touching. I am out of Dr. Pepper. I didn't sleep enough last night. I just ate too much boxed macaroni and cheese. The kids have way too much energy for it to be 7:30 pm. A large serving of neon green beverage was spilled on the carpet at dinner.

It's May and it snowed 2 inches yesterday. The high today was too freaking cold to pass for May or anything even close to it. My windshield cracked yesterday during the snow storm. Not a little crack, either -- many long, silvery, nasty cracks.

I can feel all of this combining into one big mess, the likes of which I haven't seen in a while. Poo poo on today.

Riddle Me This

I saw an advertisement on a public school bus today. It's not the first one I've seen since moving here, either. Is that why the school district is so good? They supplement tax payer dollars with advertising revenue?

I'm not sure what I think about that; actually I'm not sure what to think about that.

Walk Tall

There is a song titled Walk Tall by John Mellencamp. I can't get enough of it. I have searched the internets far and wide for months and have not been able to find it to add to my playlist. Boo. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to find this song for me. If you find it, I'll be forever indebted to you. Really.

Here are the lyrics to get you started:

The simple minded
And the uninformed
Can be easily led astray
And those that cannot connect the dots
Hey, look the other way
People believe what they want to believe
When it makes no sense at all
So becareful of those who
Kill in Jesus' Name and don’t believe in
Killing at all.

Somewhere out in the distance
Is the death of you and me
Even though we don't think of it much
It's still out there for us to see
If you treat your life like a bar room fight
You'll die stinking of gin
No drunkards allowed in heaven
No sinners will get in.

So be careful in what you believe in
There's plenty to get you confused
And in this land called paradise
You must walk in many men's shoes
Bigotry and hatred are enemies to us all
Grace, mercy and forgiveness
Will help a man walk tall.

Those are just the verses. The chorus is a bunch of 'walk talls' that sort of run into each other and are kind of a pain to wade through in printed form. Anyway, if you find a link to the song, let me know. My undying gratitude will be your prize. And if you can't find it, well then, enjoy the lyrics.

Grant Me Strength

Some days, I swear I won't make it to the end of this parenting gig with my sanity in tact. My daughter occasionally acts as if she has taken a leave of absence from her body and allowed 47 varieties of hysterical body snatchers to take up residence there. It's enough to reduce my usual calm self to the gnashing of teeth and the wearing of sackcloth and ashes.

:deep sigh:

Today, it began with the refusal to wear the outfit that was perfectly acceptable only 10 minutes earlier. Once the clothing issue was settled, she decided that when I trimmed her hair last night, I trimmed it too short. A continuous wail of "My-hair-is-too-short-I-want-my-hair-long" ensued on the walk out the door, down the stairs, to the car and half way to school.

When I picked her up this afternoon, she pouted when I asked about her spelling test, even though she did extremely well on it. At home, she wanted to paint but we are, sadly, out of both water colors and the not-so-washable washable paint. This was cause for more pouting and whining, "But I want to paaaaaaaaaaaaaaint." A brief time out fixed her attitude momentarily -- until she decided that she wanted to change into her pajamas for movie night.

Now, changing into her pajamas wasn't the problem. (I was just fine with this because pajamas mean sleepiness and sleepiness leads to actual sleep very quickly with this child.) No, the problem occurred when she shouted at her brother to leave the room so she could change. I prompted her to ask politely and she responded by shoving said brother. Another trip to time out, accompanied by more screeching and wailing -- this time, for Daaaaaaaaaaaad-dyyyyyyyyyyyyy. My response? Sweetheart, Daddy wouldn't be too happy about your behavior right now, either.

:deeper sigh:

The rum on top of the fridge is beginning to look very enticing.

My New Favorite Movie

I know I'm about 4 months behind the rest of the country, but I finally watched Juno. Best movie I have seen in a very long time. I enjoyed every minute of it. In fact, I watched it on Monday night and could have watched it again immediately if it hadn't been so late. I did watch it again on Wednesday night. In order to leave it unspoiled for those who haven't seen it, I'll avoid saying anything about specifics.

I will say though, that it is an excellent story, told by wonderful actors in an ordinary setting that makes it easy to relate to. It runs the emotional gamut with hilarious comedic moments, a few incredibly touching scenes and still others that are very uncomfortable. It's tied together perfectly, coming full circle in the end. It even makes you second guess the ending that you know just has to happen. It's a very smart movie, too. Even after seeing it twice, I'm left with a few questions about the back story; they're not important in the grand scheme of the movie, but it's enough of a mystery to be intriguing.

This is one for my meager DVD collection. And I hardly ever say that.

Creative Parenting

There are times during a parent's life when a white lie is easier than most any other route. I discovered this last summer when Solomon developed arachnophobia. It got so bad that he couldn't sleep at night for fear that a spider might crawl on him.

I tried reasoning with him. We had never seen a spider in the house. Spiders are here to help us by eating flies and mosquitoes. Spiders don't want to bite people. On and on my explanations went and still he refused to sleep.

After a week of this, I was at the end of my rope. I dug out a bottle of Bath & Body Works body spray and told my sweet, innocent child that it was No More Spider Spray. I spritzed him, his sheets, his pillow and his bed frame with No More Spider Spray.

It worked like a charm. He was asleep within 5 minutes. For the next few months, any time he sensed that it was spider dinner time, he asked for the spray and I complied. Crisis averted. I felt slightly guilty about lying to my child, but bed time was so much easier that I didn't let it bother me too much. It got us through a rough patch and everything is fine now.

I had to tell another white lie tonight, though. Samuel just knew there was a monster hiding behind the shower curtain. Did you know it's impossible to brush your teeth with a monster in the bathtub? Well, it is -- until Mommy saves you with her magic No More Monster Spray.

Making a Difference

I miss my old job. It was frustrating in a lot of respects. There was always something unfinished. I was usually behind on at least half a dozen things. Some of the parents were maddening in their capacity for complete ignorance, no matter how many conversations I had with them.

But I miss it because I really felt like I made a difference to some people. I knew it when a mother left my office, relieved that she had a dentist to take her child to. I knew it when a panicked child calmed down during his breathing treatment. I knew it when a Spanish-speaking-only parent realized that not only could I understand him, but I could also help him get a doctor's appointment for his child with a 104 degree fever.

I miss the people I worked with. They knew what I was going through because they were going through it, too. All my frustrations and victories were the same for them. We were a team and we worked together so well.

I miss the kids in the school. So many of them were in my office regularly. I got to know them and their conditions. I worked with their parents to coordinate things at school and at home. I wonder how a few of them are doing now and how much they've grown.

I really miss feeling like I am making a difference. Some people might think I have an over-blown sense of myself after reading that sentence. I don't know; maybe I do, maybe I don't. Whatever it is, I know I don't get the same feeling from my current job. I really hope to get back to the same environment some day.

PSA 2

To All Parents:

When you take your young child to the doctor's office, do not lie and say that the nurse is not going to give them a shot. Do not say to your child, "She's only checking your leg," as the nurse lays the child on the table, immoblizing arms and legs. Do not continue denying that they are getting a shot as their thigh is swabbed with alcohol and the nurse uncaps the needle. Just don't do it. They will grow up hating nurses, doctors and anyone else who wears scrubs or lab coats. And a tiny part of them will resent you forever.

Conversely, do not threaten your child with the punishment of getting shots for misbehaving in the waiting room. No one likes shots. Even nurses don't like giving them. But they serve a purpose and it's pretty useful. It isn't punishment, it's just a fact of life. Teach your child how to deal with this fact of life. Failing that, shut up and let the nurse deal with educating your child and holding them down.

My Favorite Things

Homemade popcorn, popped the old-fashioned way, with a little oil in a heavy pan. Real butter drizzled over it and a slight dusting of salt and pepper make it perfect.

The smell of my children's necks, not right after a bath when they are scent-heavy with fruity shampoo, but about 24 hours afterward. Just like when they were infants, their own scent is about the best in the universe.

An overcast sky with a hint of balminess in the air, rain coming in with the wind. I could sit outside for hours like that.

Driving to and from work while listening to audiobooks. It's the only way I have time for anything remotely resembling contact with literature while I'm in school and working.

Fresh, clean sheets on my bed. This is best after a long day of house cleaning and laundry. Going to bed after a day like that is heavenly.

Learning a new job and being good at it. This week, I've learned how to document immunizations on the state registry, mix and administer a variety of injections, run urinalysis, draw up urine cultures, run strep tests and read the results.

Running the car through a good wash, vacuuming the whole thing out, scrubbing melted candy off the seats, wiping smeared fingerprints off the windows and throwing out all the garbage that collects under the booster seats.

Discovering a new, awesome song. Today, it was "My Medicine" by Snoop Dogg. Seriously.

Hillary Clinton has admitted she won't gain enough delegates to win the Democratic presidential nomination. She won't concede the race to Barack Obama (because she thinks a winner will be declared at the DNC), but she's admitted at least that much and it makes me giggle.

Martin Luther King, Jr.

A thoughtful essay, well worth your time. The writer presents the reality of Martin Luther King, Jr. and what his death has meant for this nation.

http://www.time.com/time/specials/2007/article/0,28804,1726656_1727254_1726040,00.html

Bigfoot Lives Upstairs

It has to. Seriously. That's the only explanation for the thumping, stomping, pacing footsteps to which I am subjected every evening.

It's worst on Friday afternoon and evening. I think it's because the beast must be attempting to clean its cave of an apartment after a long week of neglecting household chores. I picture the creature clomping about on hairy feet with crusted toenails, picking up clutter, putting laundry in to wash, loading the dishwasher.

It follows a similar pattern to my own housecleaning. Lots of moving about in the kitchen. Living room to bedrooms. Back and forth from laundry room to closets. I could feel something of a kinship to it, if the the rumblings weren't so mind-numbingly loud.

Follow Up

So. I was right. Today was not fun, but not for the reasons I expected. The drive was fine -- at that hideous hour, even I-25 is practically empty. And the weather was fine. It took forever to defrost my windshield and scrape it but there was no ice on the streets.

No, today was completely unfun for a totally different reason. I was responsible for 18 patients in a geriatric facility. These 18 patients are all on at least a dozen medications, many of them are on more. Half of them required blood glucose monitoring and/or insulin injections, both at breakfast and at lunch. I dispensed and accounted for way too many narcotics.

I arrived at 6:15 and didn't leave until 3:45. I had no breaks, no lunch and went to the bathroom once. I stood, walked, climbed stairs, knelt and bent non-stop, for 9 1/2 hours.

I have homework to do tonight for my pharmacology class. I'm not doing it. I've counted mgs, meqs, gtts, units and mls for too long today already. I can't look at another drug or think about another drug until at least tomorrow.