I cannot speak for other people, but I really do prefer to drive in a lane by myself. I say this because recent events have lead me to believe that I must look very sad and lonely in my car. What other reason could ther be for the ridiculous number of times that someone tried to drive in the same lane I was in at the exact same time? They must have been trying to let me know that I am not alone, right?
Okay. If that is not true then try this. The reason that my boss is being unreasonable about me taking time off is because she really loves having me around. That sounds nice, doesn't it? You see, I am working on putting a positive spin on things that would normally piss me off. I am really trying to recognize not just that God is in control of the situation, but that I am in control of how I interpret the situation and thus how I go through it.
I could curse and make random gestures at the person driving crazy, but considering I am one of the few anti-gun people in the state I run a great risk of offending someone who is packing. Can God protect me? Yes, of course! Does that mean I should antagonize would be shooters? I don't think so. I could go in and rebuke my boss in the name of Jesus an take whatever days I want and I really doubt she would fire me, but I also don't think that is the best way to get my name out there for promotions.
Oh my goodness! Is it true. I may be maturing. What is the world coming to?
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Friday, October 26, 2012
Kid Rules
I often joke about the things I never thought I would have to say out loud until I had children. Here are some more from the last couple weeks.
Do not lick your sisters face.
It is not okay to kick people in the face- even if you are playing Power Rangers.
Suga, we do not play in the toilet.
No naked outside. (That is exactly how I said it too. Thanks AP English.)
No crayons in the shower.
Either eat your waffle or leave it, but you cannot take it to go pee pee.
We do not swallow toothpaste.
No spitting in the car. You too, Suga.
Your sister is not a puppy. Stop petting her head.
Thank you for trying to help, but you cannot pull your sister's legs down the stairs.
Yes, it is dirty, but we do not throw our forks and cups in the garbage. They go in the sink.
Suga, do not take things out of the garbage can. Nasty, nasty!
I hope you all enjoyed a look into my world. Have a great day!
Do not lick your sisters face.
It is not okay to kick people in the face- even if you are playing Power Rangers.
Suga, we do not play in the toilet.
No naked outside. (That is exactly how I said it too. Thanks AP English.)
No crayons in the shower.
Either eat your waffle or leave it, but you cannot take it to go pee pee.
We do not swallow toothpaste.
No spitting in the car. You too, Suga.
Your sister is not a puppy. Stop petting her head.
Thank you for trying to help, but you cannot pull your sister's legs down the stairs.
Yes, it is dirty, but we do not throw our forks and cups in the garbage. They go in the sink.
Suga, do not take things out of the garbage can. Nasty, nasty!
I hope you all enjoyed a look into my world. Have a great day!
Thursday, October 25, 2012
Doctor Janaan
"Ds get degrees." The head of my undergraduate psychology department once told that to a student who was struggling in class. We all laughed and he added that nobody ever asks for your GPA at an interview. He had a point. The people who made Cs and Ds get to say the same thing that I do- they graduated. Their diploma looks the same with the same college name and insignia.
This point was brought to mind the other day as I listened to some of the interns talking about school and overheard them mention having had to retake classes and getting just passing grades. They were laughing and smiling that they had made the requirements to graduate. Thankfully, they are both in pretty rigorous programs in which a C is considered failing, but it made me wonder about what my professor once said.
I have to admit that I have never once asked my doctor what his GPA was. I picked him because he is close by and in network. He also passed my thorough (wink, wink) internet check of reading the last 10 posts that rated him as either average or above and the fact that I had never seen him on the news as having killed someone. I will admit that more than once he has said something that me wonder if he was Cum Laude or Come Late, but overall I like most have just taken for granted that his having graduated means that he is qualified. Have you ever wondered about your doctor, or dentist or nurse.
I have had a lot of blood drawn for a lot of reasons and I am sure that some of those nurses have failed the phlebotomy class a time or two because they can't hit a vein to save a life- pun intended.
I graduated my graduate program with a perfect 4.0 GPA and when it is all said and done the girl with the barely passing mark will have exactly the same license that I do. This is not to say that grades reflect ability, but it certainly effects client/patient confidence. Just imagine how you would feel if you got your lab results back and your doctor said, "I am not sure about this last section here because I barely got out of Organic Chem, but don't worry Dr. Johnson down the hall got an A and she says you'll be fine." Wouldn't you request Dr. Johnson next time or possibly mid visit?
I had this same thought when one of them told me that she had to retake the theories class again after getting a poor grade. If you are in a crisis do you want a therapist who could not pass theory. How can you apply a concept that you don't actually understand. She says that when she started working as an intern the comment was made that she was good at theory. Well, you should be. You took it twice. That is like being 8 on the 1st Grade Honor Roll.
I'm just saying. It's true. Ds get degrees, but As inspire confidence. Maybe I should start asking better questions at the doctors office.
This point was brought to mind the other day as I listened to some of the interns talking about school and overheard them mention having had to retake classes and getting just passing grades. They were laughing and smiling that they had made the requirements to graduate. Thankfully, they are both in pretty rigorous programs in which a C is considered failing, but it made me wonder about what my professor once said.
I have to admit that I have never once asked my doctor what his GPA was. I picked him because he is close by and in network. He also passed my thorough (wink, wink) internet check of reading the last 10 posts that rated him as either average or above and the fact that I had never seen him on the news as having killed someone. I will admit that more than once he has said something that me wonder if he was Cum Laude or Come Late, but overall I like most have just taken for granted that his having graduated means that he is qualified. Have you ever wondered about your doctor, or dentist or nurse.
I have had a lot of blood drawn for a lot of reasons and I am sure that some of those nurses have failed the phlebotomy class a time or two because they can't hit a vein to save a life- pun intended.
I graduated my graduate program with a perfect 4.0 GPA and when it is all said and done the girl with the barely passing mark will have exactly the same license that I do. This is not to say that grades reflect ability, but it certainly effects client/patient confidence. Just imagine how you would feel if you got your lab results back and your doctor said, "I am not sure about this last section here because I barely got out of Organic Chem, but don't worry Dr. Johnson down the hall got an A and she says you'll be fine." Wouldn't you request Dr. Johnson next time or possibly mid visit?
I had this same thought when one of them told me that she had to retake the theories class again after getting a poor grade. If you are in a crisis do you want a therapist who could not pass theory. How can you apply a concept that you don't actually understand. She says that when she started working as an intern the comment was made that she was good at theory. Well, you should be. You took it twice. That is like being 8 on the 1st Grade Honor Roll.
I'm just saying. It's true. Ds get degrees, but As inspire confidence. Maybe I should start asking better questions at the doctors office.
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
Me Too
Husband and I often make fun of couples that we see are clearly on their first date. It is not because we are jaded or down on that first date experience. It is just funny to us the things that people connect on as if they are the only people with those interests and that their getting together must be fate. Example, you like dessert...Me too! You like movies...Me too! You love your parents...Me too! While I am learning that the last one is not as common as I once thought, you have to admit that the novelty of first meeting is kind of funny.
Well, Husband and I are about to experience a rebirth of the "me too", but in a whole new way. It all started the other day when I woke up to a sink full of dishes, a living room full of toys, hampers full of dirty clothes, and a laundry room full of unfolded clean clothes. The refrigerator was stocked with old tupperware containers that needed to be emptied and there was no meal for my family to eat. Normally, I wake up, get both my kids ready, drop LoLo at school, take Suga to the store, buy food to cook for dinner for the week, come home, cook, put dishes in the dishwasher, put a load of laundry in the machine, do a toy sweep, try to do a couple of songs for Zumba, freshen up, get dressed, put clothes in the dryer, and walk out the house to drop off Suga and go to work, but not this day. I woke up that morning and realized that something was not right. Why in the world am I working before I go to work and why am I doing all this by myself? That is when it hit me that there was distinct imbalance in the work load and I was going to have to figure something out.
I started thinking about how hard Husband works, but realized I do too. I know he works 2 jobs, but Me too. I know that you have 2 kids, but Me Too. I know that you are tired when you get home, but ME Too. I know that you work with people who make you crazy, but ME TOO! You were so tired last night that you dozed off on the couch and dreamt that you were sleeping... me too! I know that you drive over an hour one way to get to work, but wait no you don't. That is just me.
The point is that things had to change or I was going to wind up bitter and single and anyone who remembers me single knows that it was not a good look and the last thing I need to add to that mix is two kids and bitterness. So I hired Merry Maids and while husband pouts about the cost he realized that things are much better now that I stopped shooting daggers at him with my eyes. Merry Maids helped keep my marriage together. Thanks, Merry Maids.
You love Merry Maids... ME TOO!
Well, Husband and I are about to experience a rebirth of the "me too", but in a whole new way. It all started the other day when I woke up to a sink full of dishes, a living room full of toys, hampers full of dirty clothes, and a laundry room full of unfolded clean clothes. The refrigerator was stocked with old tupperware containers that needed to be emptied and there was no meal for my family to eat. Normally, I wake up, get both my kids ready, drop LoLo at school, take Suga to the store, buy food to cook for dinner for the week, come home, cook, put dishes in the dishwasher, put a load of laundry in the machine, do a toy sweep, try to do a couple of songs for Zumba, freshen up, get dressed, put clothes in the dryer, and walk out the house to drop off Suga and go to work, but not this day. I woke up that morning and realized that something was not right. Why in the world am I working before I go to work and why am I doing all this by myself? That is when it hit me that there was distinct imbalance in the work load and I was going to have to figure something out.
I started thinking about how hard Husband works, but realized I do too. I know he works 2 jobs, but Me too. I know that you have 2 kids, but Me Too. I know that you are tired when you get home, but ME Too. I know that you work with people who make you crazy, but ME TOO! You were so tired last night that you dozed off on the couch and dreamt that you were sleeping... me too! I know that you drive over an hour one way to get to work, but wait no you don't. That is just me.
The point is that things had to change or I was going to wind up bitter and single and anyone who remembers me single knows that it was not a good look and the last thing I need to add to that mix is two kids and bitterness. So I hired Merry Maids and while husband pouts about the cost he realized that things are much better now that I stopped shooting daggers at him with my eyes. Merry Maids helped keep my marriage together. Thanks, Merry Maids.
You love Merry Maids... ME TOO!
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
Denial
I am always amazed by the power of denial. I have seen it in almost every form and fashion and yet it never gets old. I have had clients say things like, "I don't have a problem with cocaine. I am just here for heroin. " I have also seen the mother of a fairly low functioning child with Aspergers and possibly Tourettes say "Are you sure he is not just being a normal teenager?" Really? When was the last time she saw a normal teenager?
I realize now that I too have been guilty of some major denial. I was in denial regarding working with children. I am just not into kids. I have never in life wanted to be a teacher and being closed in a room trying to do group therapy with preteen boys is way to too much like teaching! I feel like my entire session is spent redirection. I am also convinced that everyone's medication wears off right in the middle of the first group. That leaves me with three and a half hours of group time with people who have been couped up all day and are ready to burst. AWESOME? Not really.
I was also in denial about the travel. I am a girl that never drove more than 15 miles to work and now I drive for over 60. I thought that maybe I would enjoy the time to myself or find something cool like books or language classes to listen to, but the truth is that I hate driving maybe even more than I hate teaching.
They say they first step to recover is admitting you have a problem. My problem is that denial wrote a check that my heart can't cash. Now what can I do?
I realize now that I too have been guilty of some major denial. I was in denial regarding working with children. I am just not into kids. I have never in life wanted to be a teacher and being closed in a room trying to do group therapy with preteen boys is way to too much like teaching! I feel like my entire session is spent redirection. I am also convinced that everyone's medication wears off right in the middle of the first group. That leaves me with three and a half hours of group time with people who have been couped up all day and are ready to burst. AWESOME? Not really.
I was also in denial about the travel. I am a girl that never drove more than 15 miles to work and now I drive for over 60. I thought that maybe I would enjoy the time to myself or find something cool like books or language classes to listen to, but the truth is that I hate driving maybe even more than I hate teaching.
They say they first step to recover is admitting you have a problem. My problem is that denial wrote a check that my heart can't cash. Now what can I do?
Friday, October 19, 2012
Too Soon
I just started this new job about a month ago and I have just one question. Is it too soon for me to start looking for another job? I know that only a month at this job makes me look kind of unstable, but I am not sure I can keep. This up.
I drive over an hour everyday to get there and an hour back and then when I am there I am not exactly doing what I want to do. I am pretty sure that my boss finds some new report or audit tool every week to add to my to do list. The other therapists are not bad other than a little drama and a lot of anxiety.
The real issue is that I am not working with an ideal population. My mother was a teacher and my sister is a teacher. There was one thing I knew for certain when I went to college. I did NOT want to be a teacher. Doing group therapy with pre-teens, most with ADHD or some form of cognitive delay, feels a lot like teaching and it sucks. Yesterday solidified that thought for me. I had a great family session with an adult and have spent most of the week on the adult inpatient side. Then I left there and went to work with the kids. I spent most of the day redirecting and explaining concepts to people whose concentration medications had clearly worn off, like an overworked and underpaid teacher.
I knew it was bad when I stayed late to finish my notes just so that I could start my day on the adult side today. The simple truth is that I even prefer the adults with thought disorders to working with children. Bring on the paranoia and delusions. I still prefer mood disorders and substance abuse, but I am learning that anything is better than kids. I was so burned out and tired when I left that the only clear thought on my mind was...
Is it really too soon to start looking for another job?
I drive over an hour everyday to get there and an hour back and then when I am there I am not exactly doing what I want to do. I am pretty sure that my boss finds some new report or audit tool every week to add to my to do list. The other therapists are not bad other than a little drama and a lot of anxiety.
The real issue is that I am not working with an ideal population. My mother was a teacher and my sister is a teacher. There was one thing I knew for certain when I went to college. I did NOT want to be a teacher. Doing group therapy with pre-teens, most with ADHD or some form of cognitive delay, feels a lot like teaching and it sucks. Yesterday solidified that thought for me. I had a great family session with an adult and have spent most of the week on the adult inpatient side. Then I left there and went to work with the kids. I spent most of the day redirecting and explaining concepts to people whose concentration medications had clearly worn off, like an overworked and underpaid teacher.
I knew it was bad when I stayed late to finish my notes just so that I could start my day on the adult side today. The simple truth is that I even prefer the adults with thought disorders to working with children. Bring on the paranoia and delusions. I still prefer mood disorders and substance abuse, but I am learning that anything is better than kids. I was so burned out and tired when I left that the only clear thought on my mind was...
Is it really too soon to start looking for another job?
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
Crazy Hours
You may have been wondering what is up with my inconsistent posting. Well, the truth is that I am tired. I have been working crazy hours, like 7:30 am - 8:30 pm on Monday. Not to mention the fact that I worked this past Saturday. To be honest, I don't know if I am coming or going and I know that something has to give. I just don't know what it is going to be.
Clearly I am going to have to keep the children. Although, from a purely exhaustive standpoint, they should be the first to go. I am going to keep husband for the same reason the kids get to stay; I love him and have legal obligations to fulfill. Besides that, his mother has made it perfectly clear that I cannot return him to her. As much I would like to, I know that I am never going to stop listen to my parents special brand of crazy. So where does that leave me.
I work two jobs. One that I love and one that I use to pay the bills. Oh, if only they were one and the same. I am thinking about starting the application process again. Is a month too soon to decide to start job hunting again? Does it make me look as unstable as I feel? I don't know. The only thing that I have decided for now is to work fewer weekends in the hope of keeping my kids from forgetting what I look like.
Speaking of kids. They are doing well. I don't see them very often because of my new hours, but I thought I would leave you with some LoLo and Suga talk.
Suga has decided that she wants no parts of a soiled diaper. It makes no difference to her where we are. I am sure that when we start potty training this will give us an advantage, but for now I want you to imagine my sweet girls standing up on the seat as I roll the shopping cart and patting her hand on front of her pamper and shout in her most urgent irritated voice, "I pee pee. I pee pee." Ahhh...good times.
LoLo not only told me, "everybody loves LoLo", but also "I am handsome!" Jokingly, I said and modest. To which he answered, "and modest. Thanks, Mommy." I just laughed. I was glad I could help.
Clearly I am going to have to keep the children. Although, from a purely exhaustive standpoint, they should be the first to go. I am going to keep husband for the same reason the kids get to stay; I love him and have legal obligations to fulfill. Besides that, his mother has made it perfectly clear that I cannot return him to her. As much I would like to, I know that I am never going to stop listen to my parents special brand of crazy. So where does that leave me.
I work two jobs. One that I love and one that I use to pay the bills. Oh, if only they were one and the same. I am thinking about starting the application process again. Is a month too soon to decide to start job hunting again? Does it make me look as unstable as I feel? I don't know. The only thing that I have decided for now is to work fewer weekends in the hope of keeping my kids from forgetting what I look like.
Speaking of kids. They are doing well. I don't see them very often because of my new hours, but I thought I would leave you with some LoLo and Suga talk.
Suga has decided that she wants no parts of a soiled diaper. It makes no difference to her where we are. I am sure that when we start potty training this will give us an advantage, but for now I want you to imagine my sweet girls standing up on the seat as I roll the shopping cart and patting her hand on front of her pamper and shout in her most urgent irritated voice, "I pee pee. I pee pee." Ahhh...good times.
LoLo not only told me, "everybody loves LoLo", but also "I am handsome!" Jokingly, I said and modest. To which he answered, "and modest. Thanks, Mommy." I just laughed. I was glad I could help.
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
Bad Boys
When I went to work this Saturday I saw a guy who reminded me so much of the guys I used to date. He had the piercings, the tats, and was exactly where I thought they would end up...REHAB. As I resisted the countertransference that had me wanting to tell him what his real problem was I could not help but be proud of myself for taking my own advice. (I once told my niece this nugget of wisdom, but I don't think she was listening.) Simply put, I come from a long line of women with questionable taste in men, the important thing to remember is to get it together before you marry one. I did that. Don't get me wrong, Husband totally has the bad boy edge, but he got himself together with no help from me.
I know that many girls date the bad boy and want to change him. They want to be the one whose love makes him realize the error of his ways and heal the hurt little boy inside. I also understand how my being a therapist would lead people to believe I would be one of those girls, but I assure you that I was not. I dated bad boys with no intention of trying to change them. I did it because I loved the life and the excitement and the drama. It was like being Bipolar without the need for meds.
Then one day, I woke up and knew that I had had enough. I wanted to finally "Do Better" and date someone whose job involved paying into Social Security and whose tattoos would not lead to police questioning. I was over the drama and the "ride or die" lifestyle no longer appealed to me. I did not want to help pay fines, accept collect calls or keep checking the side view mirror as we drove. I was still down for the hustle mentality, but my love of the hustle had passed. On a side note, I recently told LoLo to repeat after me - no neck tattoos. Yes, he is for, but I figure it is like the don't do drugs talk. It is never too early.
That is why it gave me such great satisfaction when after I complimented the patient on being seeming to in a better head space and no longer giving me looks that could kill and he replied with, "Naw, I was probably just checking you out," that I was no longer in a place that called for a "Thanks, Boo".
It kind of made me shiver and throw up in my mouth, but I redirected and kept the group focused all while giving myself a pat on the back in my head.
Yay, me!
I know that many girls date the bad boy and want to change him. They want to be the one whose love makes him realize the error of his ways and heal the hurt little boy inside. I also understand how my being a therapist would lead people to believe I would be one of those girls, but I assure you that I was not. I dated bad boys with no intention of trying to change them. I did it because I loved the life and the excitement and the drama. It was like being Bipolar without the need for meds.
Then one day, I woke up and knew that I had had enough. I wanted to finally "Do Better" and date someone whose job involved paying into Social Security and whose tattoos would not lead to police questioning. I was over the drama and the "ride or die" lifestyle no longer appealed to me. I did not want to help pay fines, accept collect calls or keep checking the side view mirror as we drove. I was still down for the hustle mentality, but my love of the hustle had passed. On a side note, I recently told LoLo to repeat after me - no neck tattoos. Yes, he is for, but I figure it is like the don't do drugs talk. It is never too early.
That is why it gave me such great satisfaction when after I complimented the patient on being seeming to in a better head space and no longer giving me looks that could kill and he replied with, "Naw, I was probably just checking you out," that I was no longer in a place that called for a "Thanks, Boo".
It kind of made me shiver and throw up in my mouth, but I redirected and kept the group focused all while giving myself a pat on the back in my head.
Yay, me!
Friday, October 12, 2012
New Friends
I am getting acclimated to the people that I work with, but the more I get to know them the more evident it becomes that these people will not be my new friends. Truth be told, I miss my old friends. I miss JJ,Jigga, Lotus, Seattle, and Cocoa.
I miss being able to just laugh and talk about things like Miley Cyrus' new haircut and how the new Guess ads are so chessy that they make you miss Anna Nicole. Mostly, I miss just being chill. I work with therapists, but virtually all of them are anxiety ridden. There is nothing quite likean edgy mental health worker. I mean, who doesn't want a twitchy ticking time bomb telling them how to get and keep their life together. That is not the point though.
The point is that I miss my friends. I miss Jigga's refusal to conform and "do better" and her willingness to laugh about it. I miss JJ Santan's ability to cut through all the crap and her "What!?!" face. I miss how Seattle always made me feel better about my shambles of a work life and her ability to be wildly inappropriate in the most subtle and amusing ways. I miss Lotus just being random. I miss Grumpy being his chipper self and telling me exactly what the problem is. I miss Cocoa's diva act because nobody pulls it off quite as well. Lastly, I miss Tresemme, who while being the newest was one of the funniest. I will admit to missing the hair, but he is more than his beautiful locks. He is a man so comfortable in his douchery that you not only overlook it, but you start to enjoy it. If he did not already have a name, I would call him Schmidt.
That brings me to my next point. They don't watch New Girl or Glee or Once and therefore can't understand most of what I want to talk about in my down time. I mean, really?
How am I supposed to work under these conditions!
I miss being able to just laugh and talk about things like Miley Cyrus' new haircut and how the new Guess ads are so chessy that they make you miss Anna Nicole. Mostly, I miss just being chill. I work with therapists, but virtually all of them are anxiety ridden. There is nothing quite likean edgy mental health worker. I mean, who doesn't want a twitchy ticking time bomb telling them how to get and keep their life together. That is not the point though.
The point is that I miss my friends. I miss Jigga's refusal to conform and "do better" and her willingness to laugh about it. I miss JJ Santan's ability to cut through all the crap and her "What!?!" face. I miss how Seattle always made me feel better about my shambles of a work life and her ability to be wildly inappropriate in the most subtle and amusing ways. I miss Lotus just being random. I miss Grumpy being his chipper self and telling me exactly what the problem is. I miss Cocoa's diva act because nobody pulls it off quite as well. Lastly, I miss Tresemme, who while being the newest was one of the funniest. I will admit to missing the hair, but he is more than his beautiful locks. He is a man so comfortable in his douchery that you not only overlook it, but you start to enjoy it. If he did not already have a name, I would call him Schmidt.
That brings me to my next point. They don't watch New Girl or Glee or Once and therefore can't understand most of what I want to talk about in my down time. I mean, really?
How am I supposed to work under these conditions!
Monday, October 8, 2012
Get Low
I am not really one to call other people hypocrites. One, it is not really a good way to make or keep friends ands amd two, it usually involves assumptions about other people's life and intentions that just don't have the knowledge base to make. I have no problem calling out my friends to do better, but hypocrite is a strong word and I don't use it lightly.
I will, however, laugh hysterically at people whose behavior doesn't match the package. It may or may not be hypocritical, but it is ironic and irony is funny.
Husband and I went to a preseason basketball game with Father and Mallow. We were having a good time and for most of the first quarter the seats in front of us were empty. When the people finally did show up, they provided us with endless entertainment that most certainly rivaled the lackluster play of the game. The focus of this post, however, will be the woman henceforth referred to as Church Lady.
My acknowledgement of Church Lady was slow because upon entrance she was easily overshadowed by the boisterous antics of her friend Pack-a-Day, who based on the number of shout outs she gave to passing security officers, I can only hope she used to work there. My other option of optimism is that the old smokers section was next to the security office. I did notice that Church Lady was more excited about the music they were playing tan the game itself, but again there is nothing spectacular about shoulder shaking to the hype music they play at a game. Somewhere around halftime they switched seats and Church Lady sat in front of me. That is when things got comical.
This was a Sunday game, so it is no surprise that some people probably came from church. At least they went. Husband and I did not. After realizing that we were not going to be able to pull it together for early service, we passed and went telechurch. In my defense, I have cramps and we have to kids. God knows; don't judge me. (wink, wink) That is why I try to keep my "bad" Christian comments to a minimum these days. I stick with humorous, which brings us back to her. It was clear after she got closer, that she had been to church that morning. Here is a short list of clues.
She still had one of those big church lady broach style clips in her hair. You know the ones that are are gold, rectangular, and mimic some type of embroidery.
She was wearing church jewelry. The three drop pearl earrings are not typical game wear.
She was wearing soft structure high collar jacket with an across the chest purse.
She basically looked like she went into the bathroom after her usher board meeting and changed from her skirt to pants and came to the game. That explains why she was late. None of this would have been interesting to me if it had not been for one thing. Right before I noticed her attire, she stood in front of me and let it all hang out to the song Get Low. WHAT!?!
What in the world is going on? I know they don't play that at altar call. Unless they are trying to remind the people who went out the night before tat they need to get it together before the Rapture. Yet, here she was acting as a living example of some kind of Christian mullet- choir member on top and stripper on the bottom. It was quite a contrast and I have to admit that I laughed well. So, I have to say thank you. My team lost and my soda was over priced, but I did get a good laugh.
Thanks, ladies!
I will, however, laugh hysterically at people whose behavior doesn't match the package. It may or may not be hypocritical, but it is ironic and irony is funny.
Husband and I went to a preseason basketball game with Father and Mallow. We were having a good time and for most of the first quarter the seats in front of us were empty. When the people finally did show up, they provided us with endless entertainment that most certainly rivaled the lackluster play of the game. The focus of this post, however, will be the woman henceforth referred to as Church Lady.
My acknowledgement of Church Lady was slow because upon entrance she was easily overshadowed by the boisterous antics of her friend Pack-a-Day, who based on the number of shout outs she gave to passing security officers, I can only hope she used to work there. My other option of optimism is that the old smokers section was next to the security office. I did notice that Church Lady was more excited about the music they were playing tan the game itself, but again there is nothing spectacular about shoulder shaking to the hype music they play at a game. Somewhere around halftime they switched seats and Church Lady sat in front of me. That is when things got comical.
This was a Sunday game, so it is no surprise that some people probably came from church. At least they went. Husband and I did not. After realizing that we were not going to be able to pull it together for early service, we passed and went telechurch. In my defense, I have cramps and we have to kids. God knows; don't judge me. (wink, wink) That is why I try to keep my "bad" Christian comments to a minimum these days. I stick with humorous, which brings us back to her. It was clear after she got closer, that she had been to church that morning. Here is a short list of clues.
She still had one of those big church lady broach style clips in her hair. You know the ones that are are gold, rectangular, and mimic some type of embroidery.
She was wearing church jewelry. The three drop pearl earrings are not typical game wear.
She was wearing soft structure high collar jacket with an across the chest purse.
She basically looked like she went into the bathroom after her usher board meeting and changed from her skirt to pants and came to the game. That explains why she was late. None of this would have been interesting to me if it had not been for one thing. Right before I noticed her attire, she stood in front of me and let it all hang out to the song Get Low. WHAT!?!
What in the world is going on? I know they don't play that at altar call. Unless they are trying to remind the people who went out the night before tat they need to get it together before the Rapture. Yet, here she was acting as a living example of some kind of Christian mullet- choir member on top and stripper on the bottom. It was quite a contrast and I have to admit that I laughed well. So, I have to say thank you. My team lost and my soda was over priced, but I did get a good laugh.
Thanks, ladies!
Friday, October 5, 2012
Fitness
Time for a fitness update. My new schedule has made finding time for running fairly difficult. Enter Zumba for the Wii. I have to admit that it is better than I thought it would be. I won't o like the people on the commercials and lie about how it did not even feel like exercise because it does. Yes, you are dancing, but following that computer graphic person is much more stressful than a night out with friends. I can't speak for those people, but in a purely social setting, I definitely would stop dancing before I reached that level of sweat. Sweat is a look that requires the proper context to be acceptable. There are a limited number of places outside of the gym where it is attractive or acceptable.
Now that I have my new exercise routine down, I moved on to trying to fix my diet. My major problem is that there is no refrigerator at my job. I should also mention that there is also no microwave at this point. So, everyday I have to bring food that won't either go bad or be gross after sitting out and does not have to be reheated. That usually results in fast food or prepackaged snack foods. That is not exactly diet friendly, right? So what is this girl to do? The truth is that I don't know.
Any ideas?
Now that I have my new exercise routine down, I moved on to trying to fix my diet. My major problem is that there is no refrigerator at my job. I should also mention that there is also no microwave at this point. So, everyday I have to bring food that won't either go bad or be gross after sitting out and does not have to be reheated. That usually results in fast food or prepackaged snack foods. That is not exactly diet friendly, right? So what is this girl to do? The truth is that I don't know.
Any ideas?
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
New Ideas
As a new parent, you are likely to believe that you have control over what your kids will know and believe. Not true. For example, LoLo learned about Santa at school. Our resulting conversation went something like this.
LoLo: Mommy, Santa brings presents down the chimney.
Me: Yeah?
LoLo: Mommy, who is Santa?
Me: I don't know baby.
Don't get me wrong I am no Santa hater and I love me some Christmas, but Husband and I had not decided which approach to take. We're we going to, as he put it, lie to our kids and murky the story of Christ's birth or were we going to have the kid that ruins it for everyone else by telling them the real reason why there is a song about mommy kissing Santa Claus. In this case we just went with it. We never confirmed or denied it. When he brings it up, we just go with it, but Christmas is easy. He was going to get presents regardless of if he believed in Santa or not.
What about other things? Like the Easter bunny (a concept that baffles me even as an adult) or the tooth fairy. You would like to think that you have a say in whether you want to introduce an idea that will allow your kids to shake you down for cash based solely on an evolutionary necessity. Humans have to lose teeth. Why am I paying? Oh yeah, because my son saw it on an episode of Bubble Guppies. Thanks Nick Jr. I am glad that I am not really por and struggling because I would probably have to come up with some horrible story to explain why she and Santa never come. A tragic accident? To morbid. They can't find our house? Not believable. You've been naughty? Too mean and not really true. It is recession and they can't afford the gas to get here? Too real!
All I know is that my kids don't need anyone giving them more new ideas about fictional characters coming to bestow gifts upon them. I don't want to keep feeling pressured to lie to my kids. So please everyone, stop helping.
LoLo: Mommy, Santa brings presents down the chimney.
Me: Yeah?
LoLo: Mommy, who is Santa?
Me: I don't know baby.
Don't get me wrong I am no Santa hater and I love me some Christmas, but Husband and I had not decided which approach to take. We're we going to, as he put it, lie to our kids and murky the story of Christ's birth or were we going to have the kid that ruins it for everyone else by telling them the real reason why there is a song about mommy kissing Santa Claus. In this case we just went with it. We never confirmed or denied it. When he brings it up, we just go with it, but Christmas is easy. He was going to get presents regardless of if he believed in Santa or not.
What about other things? Like the Easter bunny (a concept that baffles me even as an adult) or the tooth fairy. You would like to think that you have a say in whether you want to introduce an idea that will allow your kids to shake you down for cash based solely on an evolutionary necessity. Humans have to lose teeth. Why am I paying? Oh yeah, because my son saw it on an episode of Bubble Guppies. Thanks Nick Jr. I am glad that I am not really por and struggling because I would probably have to come up with some horrible story to explain why she and Santa never come. A tragic accident? To morbid. They can't find our house? Not believable. You've been naughty? Too mean and not really true. It is recession and they can't afford the gas to get here? Too real!
All I know is that my kids don't need anyone giving them more new ideas about fictional characters coming to bestow gifts upon them. I don't want to keep feeling pressured to lie to my kids. So please everyone, stop helping.
Monday, October 1, 2012
TGFS
We have all heard of TGIF. Well, I used to thank God for Sunday. Growing up Sundays used to mean going to church and then relaxing while watching my mom cook. Then I became a teenager and Sundays meant going to church followed by hanging out with my friends. College changed my Sunday routine. College Sunday usually involved sleeping late and helping my friends recover from Saturday night. (They drank. I didn't) after graduation I realized that I wanted to make some very important life changes. I gave my life to Christ and Sundays went back to church and friends. I got married and moved away from my friends, but Sundays were still the best days. I went to church and then chilled out with Husband.
Things are different now. I still go to church, but my chill vibe has been severely compromised and I struggled to find new balance. Sundays have now become the day when I try to fix all the things that did not get done from the week before and try to prepare for this weeks coming onslaught of crazy. It is draining to say the least. The are still some good things about Sunday. For example, it is the only day of the week I can rely on Husband to help get the kids up and ready. Somehow, on every other day of the week, regardless of if we are both working, that is considered my responsibility. I don't know how that came to the case, but those rules don't apply to Sunday. The second best thing is that one of my favorite shows, Once upon a time, is back on. I DVR it and after the kids are asleep and the last load is in the dryer, Husband and I watch it. He thinks to much to really enjoy it, but he makes really fun observations. He makes it funny and I always need a dose of humor.
It is Monday now and LoLo woke up with a cold and I am behind in some of my paperwork and all I can think is TGFS because I am just relaxed enough not to be dangerous.
Things are different now. I still go to church, but my chill vibe has been severely compromised and I struggled to find new balance. Sundays have now become the day when I try to fix all the things that did not get done from the week before and try to prepare for this weeks coming onslaught of crazy. It is draining to say the least. The are still some good things about Sunday. For example, it is the only day of the week I can rely on Husband to help get the kids up and ready. Somehow, on every other day of the week, regardless of if we are both working, that is considered my responsibility. I don't know how that came to the case, but those rules don't apply to Sunday. The second best thing is that one of my favorite shows, Once upon a time, is back on. I DVR it and after the kids are asleep and the last load is in the dryer, Husband and I watch it. He thinks to much to really enjoy it, but he makes really fun observations. He makes it funny and I always need a dose of humor.
It is Monday now and LoLo woke up with a cold and I am behind in some of my paperwork and all I can think is TGFS because I am just relaxed enough not to be dangerous.
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