There will be no roaches in Heaven. Not my version of Heaven anyway.

I was going to blog about something spiritual, deep and important to everyone's life.  It was going to be something about "whatever we loose on Earth is loosed in Heaven"...that kinda thing.  But, I can sum that up in one paragraph and then go on to what I am really interested in today...roaches.  Here's the summary (one should always get the important spiritual things done first...'seek ye first'...remember?)

Anyway, in Matthew 16:19,  Jesus is talking to Peter and says "whatever you bind on earth will be bound in Heaven".  I interpret that to mean that we are supposed to turn our problems over to God and not hold on to them so as not to "bind" them on Earth, but let God handle them and see His power released on the situation here on earth...no matter what it is.   I used to think that it meant that if we were mad at someone on earth, then we didn't have to talk to them in Heaven, but I have since revisited that idea. I don't know how Heaven will be, but I hope my irritation with certain people I know will not prevent me from getting to Heaven. I'm pretty sure it won't.

However, on to the pressing matter of roaches.  It has been 20 days since I last posted a blog.  During those 20 days, I have been diligently trying to relearn how to be a home health RN.  I went back to work full time and although I am enjoying the paycheck, I am learning that change and adjustments are part of life, and they're not always fun. Getting out of my comfort zone has not been easy.  I am treading water though so no one has to do career CPR on me just yet. It helps to have weekends, and I just LIVE for Saturdays.  There is nothing like waking up and the first thought in your head is, "Ah, today, I don't have to be anywhere.  It's a beautiful day."

So, how does this all relate to roaches?  Well,  when you work in home health either as a nurse, physical therapist or, God love you, a bath aide, you go into stranger's homes and provide whatever care your ordered to do there. This means that you see how they live.  You see their mental illnesses...like hoarding, and I don't care how clean you think your house is, if you are a hoarder, you have roaches.  Mostly because hoarding means that you don't declutter, and you can't clean what you can't see so if you can't see the floor, you can't see the roach colonies populating your residence.

You see people as they really are. Let me paint a picture for you.  Let's just say that somewhere in America, there is a nice little old lady about 88 years old who lives with her husband who is also about 190. In their tiny little 2 bedroom home, built in the year 1932, they have a rickety wheelchair ramp leading to the front door. About 10 flower pots full of pink, white,  purple and blue artificial flowers line the ramp.  Three wind chimes hang from the porch that you are hoping will support your weight as you knock on the door.  The eerie sound that comes from the chimes gets louder as you approach the house. And, let's not forget the gnomes.  Never forget the gnomes with their faded red paint on their pointed little hats.  You're met with an army of gnomes and that added to the chimes makes you question your career choice.

But you knock on the screen door anyway hoping that it won't fall off the hinges as you knock.  How much paperwork would that be back at the office?   The "yippie" dogs are the first to alert the home owners of your presence.  You hear a frail voice in the house say,  "just a minute!" After about three long minutes of waiting at the door,  it opens slowly and four little Chiwawas nip, snip and sniff at your feet.  You're just thankful they're not Rottweilers.  Although that's happened to me too, but that's another story.  SO, now, you're in the house,  you go through the usual niceties, "How are you? blah blah blah. "  You're looking for a place to sit your nurses' bag (which contains your stethoscope, bp cuff, thermometer, and all the other 'accoutrements' nurses have to carry).  You put your trash bag or "barrier" on top of a big cardboard box which is the only flat service you can find.  You'll have to wash your hands too because that's protocol even though your hands were probably cleaner before you walked into the house. You're trying not to stare at all the clutter and cardboard boxes and trash cans that would make someone with a propensity to go dumpster diving think they'd found Nirvana. But, you wash your hands in the little bathroom and as you look over to the faucet handle, there sits the king of the roaches...His little antenna and body looking straight at you waving in the air.  It's as if he's saying, "What is your purpose for invading my home?" You quickly remind yourself and the roach who is boss as you flick him on the floor and step on him.  You're adrenaline is up anyway because you've been freaked out by the gnomes so your reflexes are lightening quick.

You move on and do your assessments and afterward, just before you leave, you step on a roach or two just to do your part to control the insect population.  Not that it makes any difference, but it makes you feel better. Through his oxygen nasal cannula, he laughs and says, "Did you kill one? I hope so."  Cause, you see, people know they have roaches.  Some people just don't care because they've given up hope that it could ever get any better. People know they have "their stuff" which we often call clutter.  To them it is normal.  I can't judge them.  I can just treat them. Someone with different definitions of clutter could easily come into my house and determine that I am a hoarder of say, s'mores. Oh well, we all have our issues.

The central core truth is that some people just have different opinions of what is acceptable to live with and what is not acceptable.  If this old couple chooses to allow roaches to live with them, then that's their business.  All I can do is suggest that roaches carry diseases and that they might have a healthier lifestyle without them.  I can't make them want to buy Raid....but they can buy gnomes...maybe they think the gnomes will scare the roaches off.  Unfortunately, that theory seems flawed.  Maybe that ties in to the whole "loosing it in Heaven" thing.  Maybe when I see situations like that, I should pray God will kill the roaches. I don't know.  I do know I'll be nice and try to help them anyway I can. Unfortunately, most people don't want help because they don't see they have a problem.  It's a strange, strange world, and I can't fix it.  But I can make suggestions to buy Raid.  Great.  That's helpful.

Football advice for non Alabamians...

If you are from the great state of Alabama, then you have undoubtedly had the opportunity to pick either Auburn or Alabama as your "team".  I'm surprised that it is not a required question to ask when renewing your driver's license..."Are you an Alabama or Auburn fan?"   It's that important to some people. I bet it must be confusing for someone who moves to Alabama from a state that doesn't take football as seriously as we do in the south. My advice to them would be...stay neutral..You'll have more friends that way. I promise you!

I know that most college football teams have state rivalries.  It's just a natural progression of having two universities in the same state with the same division size requirements for a football team. Not every body can go to one school so variety is good. I guess in Georgia, the rivalry is between the University of Georgia and maybe Georgia Tech.  In Tennessee the rivalry is between the University of Tennessee and maybe Vanderbilt...In Mississippi, it's the University of Mississippi and maybe Ole Miss...I think.  I don't really know because the only one that has ever seemed to effect my life in any shape, form or fashion has been the vicious and sometimes ignorant rivalry between Auburn University and the University of Alabama.  I won't give you the history of the rivalry. You can google that as well as I can, but I will give you a small snap shot of just how serious, yet silly, that the feelings of some people can be regarding their beloved team..whichever one they root for. But let me be clear...I have many wonderful (and not as ridiculous as the people I'm about to describe) Alabama friends. I have many great Auburn friends too. And, after all, isn't that what life is all about...Cum ba ya  and all that?   Hee hee.

When I worked at the hospital, I had a patient who was a very serious and devoted Alabama fan.  He had never stepped foot on the Tuscaloosa campus and to my knowledge was not a college graduate from anywhere, but when I walked in wearing Auburn scrubs, he wouldn't talk to me.  I had to go get another nurse to give him his meds.  He didn't trust me. Since then, I only wear neutral scrubs whenever I see patients.  I'm a home health nurse so I don't want to get thrown out of any Alabama fans' house.  That would really mess up my schedule.

I have a friend from high school (who shall remain nameless) who told me once (and he realizes that it's silly now), that he actually used to wonder how anyone could be an Auburn fan and still call themselves a Christian.  He actually did graduate from UA, but that's no excuse.  He should have known better.  He says now that he has many Auburn fans, but he never makes it a secret how much he hates Auburn. 

Now, to be fair, I have to say why I am an Auburn fan.  It's Troy.  He graduated from there, and was in the fraternity that got to take care of the eagle (their mascot..or is that the Tiger...why do we have two?) before the Vet school down there took over that job. I don't think he would appreciate it if I wore red and white on game day.   Anyway, it's a loyalty thing.  My sister gradated from there, and I didn't know a football from a sausage ball so yeah, sure I'll wear orange and blue.  I don't look that good in red anyway so that worked.  Then, in college (I went to the University of Montevallo which - to my  knowledge - is not affiliated officially with either of the big schools) I went through a brief period of time where, I had more Alabama fans than Auburn fans so I wore red and white and shouted "Roll Tide" for awhile.  However, if you strapped me up to a lie detector machine, you would find that I don't really care who wins cause, I "don't have a dog in that fight." as they say.. If one of my kids grows up to attend either university, I will gladly wear their colors -mainly because by then, I will be paying lots of money to whichever school it is, so I should support them with a t-shirt.  It will be the least I can do.  If they go to both schools, I will have to get a shirt with an Alabama elephant on one side and an Auburn Tiger on the other. Won't that be pretty?

Which brings me to the crux of why I wanted to write this blog...even though I really only just wanted to use the word "crux" but I'm a bit scared now cause I'm hoping that I will use it correctly...You see, my point in all this is...Attendance at either school is not a prerequisite to participate in the insanity of the rivalry.  Just like ownership in an NFL team is not a requirement to like one of those teams.  True football fans will just like watching good football players play the game.  The uniform won't matter.  We saw a t-shirt that said, "I got this t-shirt because I graduated from Auburn University. You got that Bama shirt because you went to Wal-Mart."...Now, that could go either way which is also true for pretty much any Auburn/Alabama joke.  It's just crazy.  It always has been, always will be.

The only advice I can give someone who didn't grow up in the midst of the insanity is that when you see a die hard Auburn fan or die hard Alabama fan coming, just smile politely, hope that you're wearing gray and speak in calming tones.  The insanity will calm down a bit in the spring when football season is over.  Until then, just stay neutral, but whatever you do...please don't say, "It's just a game" because then you will have both sides after you. You've been warned...Roll Tide and War Eagle!  : )

Breadcrumbs and Trail Markers..

Whatever I write this morning, I will have to write fast because I can already hear my children starting to wake up.  It was just a small cough, but soon the shower will be running, someone will be asking where their socks are and the answer is always the same - they're in the laundry basket with all the other clothes that I have not had time, well at least energy, to put up yet.  I know that some people reading this might have 4, 6 or even more kids and feel that any complaining about how household chores seem to fall by the way side by someone who ONLY has 3 kids might seem a little bit like whining, but it's my blog..I'll whine if I want to. 

But this is not going to be a whine fest.  Although, if I lived in Napa Valley, I would enjoy going to a wine fest as long as their was cheese available. NO, this is going to be a nice little encouragement to those of us (and I believe this applies to a lot of people these days...with or without children) who feel a bit...uh, overwhelmed, especially with the holidays quickly approaching. I have developed a mental survival system called "breadcrumbs and trailmarkers" so that as I scurry through the day, I can help myself.  I am usually not a very good list writer as I tend to either forget what I am supposed to write down, forget the list or think that making a list is yet another item for the "to do list"..THEREFORE, I rely on the mental capabilities that the Lord provided for me in the form of a brain. It's not real scientific.  It's kinda sad actually because there is zero logic to it, but it works..sometimes. So, no money back guarantees here...

First and foremost, let me outline the "Trail Markers". These are the things that we must do each day in order to survive on the trail or path that we've chosen to walk.  These things are usually constant like markers on a walking trail that aren't supposed to move.  For instance,  I find it imperative that each morning, I bathe.  I know this is hard to imagine, but I really do shower and when in the shower, I think and pray about the day.  It can be a long shower. THEN before leaving the bathroom/bedroom, I am completely dressed including what little makeup I wear. I only do this because if I don't take care of personal hygiene..well, who will?  I will wind up going to work with no socks or maybe my house shoes instead of my 'goin outside shoes'.

SO, being dressed, now I must walk the dog who has been patiently waiting in the laundry room..because that's where she sleeps so she won't jump on me in the middle of the night).  This is yet another trail marker and as you can see, the trail markers are daily habits.  My time is running out because now I have three kids up and have already had to get up for 4 different interruptions all within the last 10 minutes and Troy isn't even up yet which reminds me...wait I'll be right back......OK, now Troy is up and I can type for another 5 minutes)... Do you see how challenging it is already to write?  Oh well, I digress..as usual..

What have we learned so far?  Yes, trail markers are just the daily habits that don't really change.  But, breadcrumbs...Ah, those are the things that make life run smoothly.  It's an easy concept to remember.  It's like leaving yourself little reminders...but not in the form of a list which I have already mentioned how much I hate. No, this is more of mental reminders. I'll use laundry as a prime example.  I knew that last night I wouldn't have time to wash Ellie's blue jeans that she has to wear for her book report costume today (fodder for another blog), so to remind me to wash and dry them this morning (cause I get up so early), I left them out on the counter where I keep my phone...cause I would have to see them when I got the phone.  That reminds me to put them in the washer.  Mission accomplished.  The only snafew (and of course this NEVER happens..I say sarcastically) that could alter the outcome would be if I was so totally amnesic to the fact that I even have a daughter who needed jeans then that wouldn't work....So, that's the bread crumb example.

I would love to sit and think up some more, but the house is too loud for me to think anymore, and I'm hoping I have left myself some breadcrumbs along the way..cause I forgot to eat breakfast..and I'm already feeling overwhelmed.   Bottom line, we're all surviving the best way we can, and if that means we forget stuff along the way, then maybe it's ok.  I have often prayed this:  "Lord, today, please help me remember the things I need to remember, forget the things I need to forget and not worry about it "  It works too..cause I've already forgotten most of what I was worried about for the day..Sufficient for the day is it's own trouble which is a paraphrase of something in the bible that I'm too lazy to look up right now.  Now, go eat some breadcrumbs.  

Times..they are a changin...

There is much to do on this beautiful, sun shiny, bright and colorful fall day.  Yet, here I sit...typing cause there are so many random thoughts that have been passing through the little neurons in my noggin lately that I feel drawn to the keyboard.  I'm thankful that Troy is at work and the kids are at school so that I can actually have some time with the keyboard.  I see another computer (possibly a secret laptop) only for me in my future.  Ah, one can dream, right?

I must write quickly though..."Write like the wind" as I like to say even though the wind doesn't really write does it?  It just sounds good. I must clean the house because on Monday mornings, it looks like the fraternity from Animal House met the Northern Army and they teamed up to march through my house pillaging and rummaging through everything from clothes which are all over the floor to dishes that make a nice tower to the ceiling.  So, there is much ado about a lot of stuff that will have to get done, and the urgency strikes me slap in the face because my days as a "Stay at home Mom who manages to work part time to keep her RN license" are just about over.  I'm about to enter the insane world of "Working Mother".  God help us all. And, I'm not kidding about that last part.  I will not be able to do this without some Divine Intervention...possibly in the form of a housekeeper...but we'll just wait on that to see if I actually like the job.

My youngest is now 6 years old.  I always said I would eventually go back to work..."Eventually" has finally come. And, on October 31st, I begin the new adventure.  It's as a home health nurse, and I've done that before..only part time or PRN which meant that I really didn't have to work everyday unless they really needed me and I wanted to.  That's been nice.  However, as busy as I am here, and as I have managed to stay without working full time, I think it's probably time to start banking some money for the college eds that will hit me in a few measly years, and maybe even help with retirement. I figure if it doesn't work out, I always have this blog...which pays, uh...well, maybe I'll like the job.

SO, yes, times they are a changin...I'll throw a modified version of the Ecclesiastes verse about "a time for everything" in here cause I can..It's my blog.

There is a:
Time for work, a time for play
A time to start another day
A time to work to earn a check
A time to clean your house cause it's a wreck
A time to rest and sing and pray
A time to visit along the way.
And during all the time we're given,
If we see why we're livin,
Then, all the stuff that we go through.
Will make this life seem not so blue.  

Cheesy, I know..But kinda true eh?  Well, it's time to crank up some music and get the laundry folded and begin the "procrastination breakdown" which I will have to bust through if I am to get my house ready for the impending sabbatical I'll be taking soon. My lofty and completely unattainable goals for the day are to catch up on the scrapbooks that I'm five years behind on, have all clothes folded, put up and organized to make for easy dressing in the mornings, clean out my closet for said same reason, and maybe clean out the car just cause I'm under the delusion that doing all that will help with the transition for us all.  Again, it's only Divine Intervention that will save me..or really, anybody else for that matter.  I think I'm taking the "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me" verse in Philippians a little to seriously.  HAHA. We'll see.

If people were dogs...

I've heard it said that after awhile, some people will start to resemble their pets.  I've even seen pictures that back up this theory. However, I wonder if the physical attributes are only just the beginning.  What if, maybe even subconsciously, we pick pets based on their personalities and how well we think they match ours? For instance, I would never want a nervous, frantic, yippy Chiwawa.  I think they're cute and all, but I just don't like being around things or people for that matter who seem to have a lot more energy than me, and granted, that's not really saying too much most days. It drains my energy to be around people like that. Someone who is hyper and "so excited" all the time and never ever gets even slightly down or calm, actually makes me step back and start to wonder what is wrong with that person. I don't think anybody is ever legitimately that way 100% of the time. Negative people affect me that way too. I prefer those balanced people who put me at ease.

It wasn't always that way.  There was a time when I thought something was wrong with me because I wasn't always happy and hyper and basically, a walking cheerleader.  I'm not saying I'm perfect. I'm just saying I don't dwell on my imperfections. Maybe I just don't care. That was back when I was a young whipper snapper and not a middle aged mom of three who is occasionally, hopefully accidentally, given a senior discount at a store because the teenager behind the counter is too afraid to ask if I'm 55 or older, and she really isn't a good judge of age just yet. I don't blame her.  I've actually been in that same situation before, and I know it's just easier to give the discount than to ask. But, it does make me want to go buy Clairol.

Anyway, if we resemble our pets personality, then I have finally managed to get the perfect pet for me.  Bear is the black lab in the picture above.  We adopted her about a year and a half ago. That picture represents her normal pose throughout the day.  Most of the time, she is easy going, loves the kids and habitually sneaks around to get extra food wherever she can find it...the garbage, the floor, the kids' plates...I'm like that too...well, except for the places she finds food. She loves to see people come to her house, but in some ways she scares them off because she can look mean and vicious..just like me!  If someone dares to walk by with another dog on her sidewalk, she will let everyone in the neighborhood know that this is her territory, and "how dare they bring another dog on her property!"  I'm not like that though..unless you count the fact that I don't like people to bother my personal space.  I am a big fan of personal boundaries.

Another similarity is the fact that if she has to go outside and do her business, she will get right up in my personal space and whine and run around like she has to go pee and then when I get the leash and my shoes on, you'd think she had won the hot dog lotto. My husband thinks I'm like that because when I really need him to turn off the tv and help me put the kids to bed or something else that I think is urgent, I get right up in his personal space and won't let him sit and watch tv either..Oh my gosh!  I think I'm morphing into my dog!

I could turn this into a spiritual blog about how we should all be like Jesus and not worry about being like other people or dogs. I'm certainly not going to compare my Savior to a K-9, but if I were writing a story and wanted to symbolize Jesus that way, I would write him as a German Shepherd. One who is always there, protecting, comforting, leading like a seeing eye dog for a blind person. One who knows when to rest, when to move and when and how to attack to protect those in his care.  But of course, I'm thankful, Jesus is much more than that.  I don't want to "put God in box" which I've always thought was a funny metaphor. You can't put Him in anything, and you can't compare him to anyone or anything.  He just is that He is. 

So, whether I'm a lazy lab, a hyper yippy dog or a mutt in between, I'll try to remember that "It's a dog eat dog world," and "If I can't run with the big dogs, I'll just stay on the porch" and "I might not have a dog in that fight" and maybe somehow, I will learn to just "Let sleeping dogs lie".  I'd better be careful before I start a new religion called "Dogism"...please don't tell me there's already something out there like that. I just don't want to know. I don't want to go "Diggin up bones" anywhere...I'll stop now...:)

So many houses...so little time.

"You may attempt to be cool now by downplaying your desires, but the Moon's visit to your 8th House of Intimacy has you thinking about warmer things."

That was how today's horoscopy thing started out.  I have no idea what it means or even how it could remotely describe the day. And, as I mentioned previously, I don't know how many houses I have, but I'm pretty sure that I don't have 8 houses devoted to intimacy.  I wonder if I would have more houses of employment (other than the recently mentioned 6 houses of employment from a previous horoscope) if I had paid more attention to the 10 levels of hell that I've heard about.  I wonder how many levels of appetite exist?  Currently, my 4th House of S'mores is wishing we could go camping soon. Yesterday, my 3rd House of Pancakes was followed by my 9th House of Homemade Apple Pies followed closely by my 2nd House of Pepsi...shadowed by the ever present 18th House of Indigestion. I just don't get it...but that's really ok...Please don't explain it to me.  I can feel my eyes start to glaze over just thinking about how I would feel if someone who actually understands mumbo jumbo ever started to explain it to me.  Hmm, glaze...that reminds me of my 10th House of Honey Baked Ham.

Vague and mysterious horoscope or not, this weekend was a pretty decent one.  However, a day is never without a conundrum around here.  I just lose count of them, and I really like the word conundrum.  We picked Troy up from the airport. We went out to eat at the BBQ place.  I folded clothes. The kids bickered over who got to be on the computer first and for how long.  I got new tires on the car - something which my 7th House of Procrastination has been holding me back from for the last 3 months.  I broke up at least 10 arguments between the kids. I walked 3 miles. I went to work to admit a couple of people. Troy changed the oil and the brake pads on said same car. We watched football. "War Eagle!" and "Roll Tide!" I folded clothes. We went to a church even though it isn't the one we're members at (that's another conundrum and blog for another time). We went to Girl Scouts. I folded clothes. The gerbil died and I'm sure is up in the 8th House of Gerbil Heaven. Jacob is rolling around in the floor with the dog as I type even though Troy and I have both tucked him in already.  And amidst all that, I have a of life changing decision (just involving where I will work) on my mind. So, all in all, it's just another day in paradise without the little fancy umbrella drinks, but I still have more clothes to fold.  Where, oh where is that 1st House of Housekeepers that I so desperately need?

Motherhood and sneakiness....a winning combination

For the past four weeks, my husband has been out of town.  He's an engineer who works on those droney things that fly around in the war and shoot the bad guys.  I know the technical term for it, but I'm kind of afraid to blog about it or he might have to kill me...or worse, scold me...I hate that...but that's another blog.  When he got his master's in aerospace engineering, I realized that I was actually married to a rocket scientist which is cool, but also proves that I must not be so smart cause it took me 8 years (at the time) to figure that out. So, yeah, he's awesome and smart and making soldiers safer in the war and all, but because he's gone all the time, this leaves me to be the mother of our three little darlins....all by my bloomin self.  This tends to make me resort to parenting techniques that no Dr. Dobson or that other parenting "expert" (whose name escapes me right now) would EVER suggest.. Therefore, I must blog about them.

Troy tucked the children into bed tonight, and as usual the "tuck in" didn't stick with the oldest and youngest.  They were out of bed as soon as Troy went to bed and started snoring...So in my ever constant battle for an hour of quiet Mommy, veg on the couch time, I have resorted to my tried and true sneaky tactics.  I will list them for you, but again, remember I am not Dobson or that other guy I can't remember.  I keep wanting to call him Paul Finebaum, but that's the football dude, and I don't know enough about football really to make football references to parenting.

Anyway, here are my parenting tips for avoiding conflict with your little angels when your spouse is missing in action.  Take it or leave it, but don't judge me.  You're not actually raising MY children so they won't fit into YOUR cookie cutter idea of what good parenting techniques work.

#1.  It's ok to lie to your children.  In particular, learn the lie "I'm sorry, but I just don't have any money for....(whatever)" line.  It's better than couponing. I used that one just now to get the kids to sleep...I said, "If you go lie down in YOUR bed and be really, really quiet, I will come up and tuck you in (again) in just a few minutes." I do hear snoring now upstairs..Ah...what a nice sound.

#2.  Telling them that it's time to do chores will only cause a dark and mysterious fog of grogginess and cries of  "I'm tired", and "She's not helping!" and you just don't want to deal with that..Instead, simply and calmly say, "If you don't put all the clothes that you flung all over your room back into the drawers, then the fabric fairy will come and take them all away." (Granted, this one works better on the 4 and under age group..If your kids are older like mine, YOU have to become the fabric fairy and threaten to take them away and then of course, follow through with the threat which always seems to be the hard part).

#3. When the rodent or fish dies, and the kids are at school, and you've flung the dead carcass out in the creek in the backyard, don't come clean or go to the trouble of burying the remains.  Just say they got out or ran away. Or, in the case of the fish, just say, I don't know...it's a mystery!"

#4.  Getting them up and out of bed in the morning can be like running a marathon.  The best way to get them out of bed is to sing obnoxiously until they get up, get dressed and are well on their way to not getting back in bed.  I suggest the "I'm Henry the Eighth I Am" song which worked so well for Patrick Swaze in the movie Ghost.

#5. Teach your children not to interrupt adults when they are talking...It will do two things..First, it will keep them from getting smacked by someone who hates to be interrupted.  Second, it will make them look like respectful members of society for having the common courtesy that many adults lack now...The way to do this is to ignore them when they interrupt.  Try not to turn too much of a deaf ear to them in case they're being attacked by a bear or snake or the house is on fire, but in general, if you are talking and they start talking, don't stop what you're saying, but by all means, call them on it afterward.  Say, "My dear sweet child, when I am talking, you are not to interrupt me.  I won't listen to you if you do that."  If that doesn't work, resort to just moving your mouth without saying anything and make them think that they can't hear. This might only work in the car if you're alone with them...unless the rest of the family is on board with the prank.

I know.. I know...Being the parent and not the friend is really the serious way to go.  "Tell them what to do, expect them to do it..It's ok to tell them 'no they can't have' and teach them to budget and help them deal with life issues like death of a pet".  I'm just saying, if you're playing single parent or you just want to avoid conflict -or maybe have fun, then follow those tips to avoid conflict.  Single parenting has made me sneaky, but I think my kids are turning out pretty good.  We'll see I guess...Maybe I should blog about "denial" next.

An acronym is born

I live in a city known for space travel, cool techno enterprises and stores that specialize in pocket protectors...(well, maybe that last one was a stretch).  So, it shouldn't surprise anyone that I decided to make up an acronym.  There are many here in Huntsville.  Of course, there's NASA, (you should know this one) MICOM (an Army one), HHM (Huntsville Hospital Main) and a lot more that I'm already bored just thinking about.  However, this morning in the shower (where all good ideas come to me because I have no way of writing them down), I thought of one to describe days when there is no time or energy to do all the things that just have to get done. I will warn you right now that it contains a bad word...not so much a REALLY bad word, but just a word used to describe a donkey...it's even in the bible.  If you have a delicate disposition, click somewhere else right now because I'm about to spell it out...I'm not trying to cuss...I just needed a vowel.. 

What I came up with is S.C.A.B. which stands for "Stupid Crazy Ass Busy" day. It's an acronym, obviously, used to describe the crazy days I have.  It's great cause when you're facing a SCAB day, you can't really pick at the SCAB, you just have to keep it clean and put the required medicine on it to let it heal naturally...I know, maybe it's a stretch, but it's also true.

Work, three kids, a husband who is gone (usually on the west coast) for long periods of time, and about ten other things for which I am, by my own fault, responsible. Just sitting here right now, I'm plagued with the thought that in less than 1 hour, I will have cracked the whip yet again on the three mini me's who would love to sleep in and make us all late.  The clothes are set out (sorta)...the dog has been walked.  I'll have to feed them all something for breakfast.  One of the girls will probably be in a bad mood.  (They take turns being the drama queen.  Yesterday it was Abby's turn).  There might be tears on the way to school.  I might lose my temper and feel my blood pressure go up - And finally, it will happen - the magical moment when we finally get to school and I say (and they do too), "Love y'all!..Love you too Mom!  Have a good day!"  Then it's off to work and clock in after 8am when before 8am would have helped a lot..Then it's get bombarded for a few hours by the needs wants and complaints of around 16-18 patients and families who need to be treated as if they are the only patients in the whole hospital.  Then, it's run back to school because it's Jacob's turn to be "star student" and that means the Mom is supposed to bring something cool to eat (I made the brownies last night)...THEN, it's quick grab the kids and head to the airport to pick up the husband who has been out of town all month. There will be a point in the evening tonight after Troy is home when I get in the car alone and drive to Starbucks and sit in a quiet corner, I will resist the urge to grab my knees and rock back and forth.  That might draw unwanted attention to me.  But, I digress...which is not uncommon

You see how this blogging thing is good for me? It's venting, but in a more controlled venue.  Remember the movie  "City Slickers" with Billy Crystal?  In that movie, the old cowboy told Billy's character what the secret of life was.  He told him it is "One thing". But he never says what the "one thing" was. That has bothered me ever since I saw that movie, and it came out in 1991. I assume that he meant pick one thing and do it well.  That's all fine, well and dandy, until you realize that there is a lot in this life to do.  It's hard to pick one thing, but I'm trying.  I just don't want to let anybody down because maybe that's my one thing, pleasing my family.  It's just that that particular one thing encompasses a whole bunch of other things. Maybe that's why the bible says, "Seek first the kingdom of God and all OTHER things will be added to you." (Matthew 6:33...but you knew that). I don't know.  I got no answers here, but I got a cool acronym. 

Well, I'll just crawl back in bed then....Not.

For kicks and giggles and not for any real advice at all, I have my horoscope on my Google homepage. It is always entertaining and sometimes even freaky.  I named this little blog "retroscope" because I like to make fun of "horoscopes".  So, if horoscopes are supposed to predict the future, then my retroscope will report the past.  I know that I have the advantage here because, obviously, the retroscope is just a recap of the days events.  However, I can skew them to sound mystical and mysterious just as well as the horoscope people can...with 100% accuracy too. For instance, yesterday's retroscope would go something like this, "Today, your freaky house of Mars will be pouncing all over your Terra Firma because two of your offspring will constantly argue and cause your inner carma peace thingy to be askew"...Translated:  "Your daughters will fight as usual and make you want to lock yourself in a tiny padded, sound proof room and sit clutching your knees and rocking back and forth....so just stay in bed."  But of course, I couldn't do that.  I had to go to work.

Which brings me to the actual horoscope for today and what prompted this blog.   It says:

"Somber Saturn and your key planet Venus may issue you a harsh reality check today. Normally, you get along well with others at work, but now it could seem as if they are on your case as tenderhearted Venus runs up against stern Saturn in your 6th House of Employment."

Now, I don't know just how many houses of employment I have, but I'm pretty sure that I've had more than 6 jobs in my life, and in each one, reality checks were part of the day.  On the days that I go to work, (with a caseload of usually at least 16 patients for a case manager depending on who I'm working for that day), I figure I have at least 16 chances to have a reality check which can sometimes not be so good. The other day, the horoscope said I would have a great day at work...which turned out to be just an ordinary day. But what aggravates me about horoscopes and why I like to poke fun at them so much is because I think they are deceptive...and I mean deceptive in the biblical sense. Anytime I start focusing on "what could happen" instead of the fact that God is on my side and no matter what happens, that won't change, then I am setting myself up for hurt. Wouldn't it be more beneficial to my soul if I took stock in these words?

"If you make the Most High your dwelling - even the Lord, who is my refuge - then no harm will befall you, no disaster will come near your tent.  For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways; they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.  You will tread upon the lion and the cobra; you will trample the great lion and the serpent.  Because he loves me, says the Lord, I will rescue him; I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name. He will call upon me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble, I will deliver him and honor him.  With long life will I satisfy him and show him my salvation."  Psalm 91: 9-16

I'd rather put my faith in something like that instead of some mystical "6th house of employment". God has saved me so many times I have lost track.  Just the other day, I was almost t-boned on the road, but I wasn't hurt.  Sometimes, there have been jobs (maybe those were the 5th houses of employment) that I thought would have been just awesome, but turns out, they would have been horrible. So, you can have the horoscopes...I'll stick to the retroscope and look to the "biblicalscope" for encouragement. Some parts of it are just as mystical, but I don't care.  What I don't understand, I guess I'll ask the Lord in Heaven someday.

And with that kind of back up, (in other words, "if God is for us, who can be against us?"), then I can now go to work confident that no matter what happens, God is with me and will take care of it all. That's a reality check that won't bounce.

Wait...am I wearing pants?

     I've been working at my job I actually get paid to do (a case manager at a rehab hospital) more lately cause of their high census which is nice. However, when I put on the working mother hat, that means I have to do all the things I would normally do in the day, when the little darlins are at school, at night.  The hubby is out of town so any sudden emergency like realizing that you're out of juice boxes and you have to have them for the kids' lunches or snacks tomorrow at school becomes a big deal. Do I take all three kids with me to the store?  Do I leave them with a neighbor for 15 minutes?  Do I...no, of course, I do not leave them alone...What is the magic age that children can begin babysitting anyway? 

     So, of course, me and three load up in the car and off we go on the two mile journey which would normally take a reasonable person, about 15 minutes from start to finish, but since I am accompanying my minors, I'm envisioning lots of "No, you cannot have that $5 toy that is so strategically placed right to the eye level of the average child.  No, you cannot have 4 quarters to put into a vending machine for a cheap plastic toy that I will either step on, or the dog will eat and we'll wind up having a Vet bill to add to the budget.  No, you cannot"...Well, you get the idea.

     It was a relief to me when we finally found everyone's shoes, clothes and my purse and off we go...Were juice boxes really worth this after all?  Well, yes...because in the morning when we're scrambling to get out the door, it will be nice not to have to figure out something else.  Yes, I know...water bottles have been invented, but calories are good for kids too... Anyway, when I came home from work, I had put on my comfy pj pants and t-shirt, and that was the extent of my nightly wardrobe.  I was comfortable...until I realized that, yes, indeed, I was in the grocery store with my pjs on.  At first, I thought, "Wait?  Am I wearing pants?"...Well, yes, I was but they were the pj pants...The baggy ones with the big red and green plaid design on them.  It wasn't even Christmas and I was wearing the colors.  And of course, there was no make up on my face, and the hair was messed up...SO, and you know what's coming next...I ran into about five people I know. Three were from the kids' school, one was from high school and one was from a place I used to work.  I fully expected to see the ex boyfriends lined up at the register.  I should have known better, but by gosh, we got those darn juice boxes. I just hope I don't wind up on that "People of Wal-Mart" website...Now, that would be a blog entry.

A note about bullying....or in general just being a jerk....

     It's an intimidating little thing...that blinking cursor.  Making me think someone actually might read something I write and - gasp - comment on it.  Why do I think I need the approval of others for anything?  This little life lesson was brought home to me this week when I was putting on my counseling hat for my 10 year old to help her through a situation at school.  Pre teen girls can be so mean.  It reverted me back to my elementary school years which I hated and where I always felt very alone.  I realized that my mom used to say the same thing to me, and I remembered how I thought that she was just saying those things cause she was my Mom and she had to.  I wanted to make sure that my daughter knew this was true...even though I am her mom...

     I told her, "It's ok Sweety, there is nothing wrong with you. I'm sure they like you, and if they don't that's their problem.  You are pretty, smart and very friendly so why in the world would anybody in their right mind not want to be your friend?  And why in the world would you want to be their friend if they are mean to you?"  That was the burning question. One which, as I get older and older (I'm 43), I think about often.  I wish that we would all "just get along" and treat everyone the way we want to be treated.  I wish we did think of others and how they might feel if they are left out of something fun.  I wish..but I don't know what to do about it except to try and teach my kids to remember how they feel when they are excluded...either intentionally or by accident, and not treat other people that way.  I don't know what to do with this situation.  "When you get to college, somehow, the bullies seem to go away."  But even that can be untrue. How do we help our kids develop that tough alligator skin without developing the teeth that come with it?  It breaks a mother's heart, and stirs up a helpless anger inside me that I haven't felt in a long time.

     SO, I reverted to humor...or at least my version of it...I started mimicking the girl who is bullying my daughter.  I slicked my hair back like she wears it and stuck my nose up in the air and pretended to be her and started taunting my daughter.  The laughter was like salve to my soul.  "Do it again Mom...That's hilarious!"  I did it again and again until we were both laughing and crying at the same time.  Maybe that's the only way through something like that...Maybe laughter is the best medicine...unless, of course, you have something like TB...

-Yvette

The Adventures of Harvey the House Squirrel...continued...

     So, there I was...trapped in the box in the cold attic with the large woman and her kid screaming at me with no where to go and no way out...However, I am a cunning little guy, and I know that the box must come up at some point in time because there is no way they are gonna let a squirrel stay in a box in their attic.  Being a keen reader of human females, I also know that I have about a 5 second "surprise" element of time in which I can easily make some kind of shrieking noise and then the large woman will jump back giving me just the right amount of time to make it to the secret hole in the attic roof.  I waited patiently, paws ready to spring in the direction of my escape, then it happened.  Slowly, the box lifted, I made the biggest shriek I could and just as predicted, the large woman jumped back, and I leaped for all I was worth toward the exit.  I didn't know I could fly, but oh how I did.   Off I went to the secret hole that led to the roof.  I stopped just outside the attic where I was sure I was safe, and I heard the large woman on the phone with the large man telling him how they had a "rodent" problem and would need to call an exterminator.  I knew I would never see my little insulation home again. 

     Now it was time to come up with another plan.  I knew I wanted to stay on this side of the street cause my pal, Ollie, had found out first hand what happens to squirrels who decide they can tempt fate and try to get across the street right in front of a car.  It's an old game of squirrel versus car that, I am sad to report, we squirrels usually lose.  I miss Ollie...Anyway, I thought for a minute that I could maybe stay in a different part of the house, but I know these exterminators, they usually put out poison in the form of treats and you think you're getting something good, but you wind up worse off than Ollie.  I decided that I would go back to my parents' nest and see if I could bunk there for the rest of the winter. It wouldn't be forever, just till I found a nest of my own.  I began the journey to my parents tree.  It was just over the creek, in fact the tree was rooted in the creek.  My Mom loved it.  She said it had a great view and lots of room to store their nuts. I was nervous to crawl back home.  It had been a few months since our last visit, and it hadn't been a very pleasant visit.

     I first caught a glimpse of Mom leaping from the neighbor's tree to home, and she seemed as spry and happy as ever.  Then, I saw Dad, but he saw me first and had a very stern look on his face that said, "Oh, great, the dead beat is home."  I made myself swallow my pride and then, put on a smile. 
     I said, "Hey, Dad!  How ya doin?"
     He stood up, crossed his arms, started tapping his foot, and said, "Harvey, you know you broke your mother's heart when you didn't come home for Christmas and you forgot her birthday, and let's not even mention that you failed to make an appearance on 'National Squirrel Parent Appreciation Day'." 
     Then, to my surprise, he put his arm around me, sighed deeply, then said, "Let's go eat lunch...You can tell us about your latest problems."
     After my mother quit hugging and kissing me and reprimanding me for missing all her favorite holidays, we sat down to eat our evening nuts.  I told them about my home in the attic, and how I had barely missed being exterminated by the big human woman and her box and how there was no way I could go back there.  And, uh say, by the way, can I stay here awhile till I find my own tree? 
     My Dad looked at me like he had heard this song and dance before, but then he looked over at Mom and she said, "Of course Harvey!  We were just using your old room for nut storage, but we can rearrange things. How long do you think you'll be staying?"
     "Well, just till the winter is over and nut production picks up, " I said.
     I saw my Dad almost choke on his nutmeg and then he said, "Oh, that long, eh?"
     Mom said, "Well, I'm sure you'll be able to find something soon Dear. I'll go start moving things around for you."
    When she had left the room, Dad looked at me and said, "You have till the first day of spring - not one day longer. Get on it!"
    And so began my return to the nest with all it's safety and quirkiness like parents who fight all the time but still stay together and regular meals and no fear of exterminators.  All was well, until the next morning and I ran into....her... 

More later....
 
 

The Adventures of Harvey the House Squirrel...

     Hello, my name is Harvey.  I am a squirrel, brown with a little touch of gray, and I live in the attic of a brick house where a family of humans reside. They do not know I am here.  I keep it that way on purpose. They only know what I want them to know.  I have lived here since I was a baby squirrel.  I was thrown out of the nest high up in the oak tree above the house after my parents wanted me to go out and forge for myself at the ripe old age of 3 years.  I mean, come on...if you're gonna have a baby, take care of it right?  Anyway, not long after that, I found an opening under the roof and I've enjoyed a nice cozy hide out ever since.  The wires and insulation make great beds, and sometimes the kids who live here leave food lying around.  I go into their rooms and the kitchen when no one is here. They keep their big black dog in the laundry room during the day so I just sit outside her door and laugh and point and say, "Ha! You big bully. You can't catch me!"  That's so much fun.  Gotta make sure she never catches me though.  That would be bad.  I'm not a singing squirrel like those goofy, famous chipmunks.  How degrading.  I can talk if I want to, but I would never talk to a human.  They would just want me to become a stupid singing chipmunk to make money for them.  No, I have it pretty darn good here.  Well, at least, I did. 

     One day last week, the mom of the family got a wild hair and decided to clean out the attic.  Three years of  peace and quiet and then she has to decide -on one of the coldest days of the year I must add- to clean out the attic.  Tucked up under the corner in a cozy sheet of insulation, I was sleeping really well, dreaming of my nuts when all of a sudden, the door sprang open and it started to get really loud.  Boxes were being turned over and pillaged through.  I stayed as quiet as I could and watched in terror as the big woman came closer and closer to me.  She got distracted by a big box of kids' toys and sat down to sort through them.  I thought "This might be my only chance, I've gotta make a break for it!" I mustered all the courage my little pointy head could think of and then made one scurry from my bed to the box just mere inches away from the big woman's foot. For a moment, she stopped and looked my way, but my cunning, stealthy moves prevented her from seeing me and as she looked closer, I slinked my way around to the opposite side of the box.  Luckily, she didn't investigate further. I breathed a sigh of relief. She went back to her stool and resumed her pillage through the village of what she called junk.  I was hoping I could just sneak my way to the attic hole that led to the roof so I would be free, but freedom was not to be mine just yet. With one foot forward, and both eyes on the big woman, I took one small step and when I turned to start running, I saw her. it was the littlest human staring straight at me.  Her big blue eyes told the story of what was about to be announced with an ear piercing scream of "Mommy!  Look, a squirrel!"...To my horror, I turned and looked up just in time to see a big box being thrown over me.  I couldn't escape. I was trapped.  No cozy insulation. No yummy wires to munch on.  I was doomed.  What in the world would happen next?  Well, I'll let you know in my next blog....