It’s that time of year. The time we all sit back and take stock of our lives. At least I do. I find that I am much more aware of everything around me during this time of year. This has been a year of big change for me. I have learned more about myself in the last 12 months than the previous 40 years. I finally have figured out a few things about myself that I really never knew. Maybe I did know them just didn’t ever truly embrace them.
First thing I learned about myself: I am a pretty darn strong woman. Not physically because in all honesty, I am a wimp on that end of things. I am speaking from the emotional side of things. I feel like 2013 has been my year for adversity and damnit when I look back, I think I handled my shit pretty darn well and have come to this day a much better person who is at peace with herself and those in my life.
Second thing is that overall, I AM a good person. I don’t go back on my word, I am a kind and caring soul, and I stand by my friends and family through it all and they do the same for me. I would never sacrifice a friendship to better myself, I do everything in my power to help those I can, and god help you if you try to hurt someone I care for. And yes, I have finally realized that I deserve this wonderful life that I have. If that sounds cocky then so be it as I have also become a lot more confident in myself and my opinions.
Third thing: We are blessed that my son has brought a new young woman into our family along with her darling little girl. Hubby and I are both enjoying the “unofficial” grandparent role that we are playing. Hubby is keeping the candy dish full of M&M’s and loves feeding her chocolate and Mt. Dew. Who would ever thought we would enjoy picking out clothing and toys for girls?? We both think we are going to enjoy spoiling that little turd. I will tell you one thing, this young woman and her little girl are making my son the happiest I have seen him in a long time and that just warms my heart like you can’t imagine.
The last, really major revelation about myself is that I DO actually care what people think about me. I have lived most of my life saying I don’t give two shits what people think about me. And to a point that is true. I am perfectly comfortable leaving the house in my sweat pants, ball cap, no shower and no make-up or I am just as comfortable going out, dressed up and looking good. If someone wants to judge me based on my appearance then I can do nothing about that. But when it comes to my character I have found that I do care. I have went through a bit of character assassination during the past year and that really bothers me. Not so much about who is saying it but that people may actually think that it is a true picture of who/what I am. While I have come to understand I can’t change what people may think of me in that case, I do care that they think it and try my best daily to disprove the rumors. Don’t get me wrong, I am still going to express myself loudly and proudly. I am still probably going to have nights that I drink too much and act like a fool, I am still going to share my inappropriate thoughts on Facebook, and I am still going to be the smartass that y’all love.
All in all, it’s been a good year. I am looking forward to next year and am excited about all of the possibilities that are out there. Not just for me but for everyone. I have never been one to make resolutions at New Years. Hell, why waste my breath? I am much more comfortable saying the following statements:
To my husband: You are my best friend and the love of my life. You keep me grounded when I need to be, you hold me back from punching people when I lose my temper, (even though you probably would like to put a gag on me as well) and you put up with my weirdness with the tolerance and patience of a saint. I will keep doing all the things I do that make you shake your head while grinning. You are my rock.
To my kids: I will continue to love and support you no matter what. I will appreciate what you do and will treasure the joy you bring me. I will push you to achieve everything you are capable of and will be your biggest cheerleader while you make it happen. I know how blessed I really am. Take all the lessons you learn and pass them on as you grow.
To my friends: I will be there for anything you need and will never turn my back on you. I will defend you to my last breath, I will drink with you until we are all stupid, and I may occasionally laugh so hard I piss my pants. And the really neat thing is, you will all do the same for and with me!
It is my sincerest wish to any and all who read this that you find yourself surrounded by family, friends and love during the holiday season. Take the time to really enjoy and appreciate all that you have and maybe try to share that with someone who isn’t as fortunate as you are. Peace and Love my friends! Merry Christmas!
Thursday, December 19, 2013
Wednesday, December 4, 2013
Infomercial Temptations!
Hubby is a connoisseur of infomercial buying. He just loves the gadgets and gizmos that people are hawking late at night. Through the years we have experimented with everything from Ginsu knives to Eggies. (Don’t waste your money on either!)
There was a time about 12 years ago that he had a fairly severe knee injury that happened at work. He was laid up at home, on crutches and pretty much couch bound. Apparently this isn’t a good combo for him because about day 3 of this I return home from work w/ the kids and find him asleep on the couch with the cordless phone in one hand and his credit card in the other. EEEK! 4 – 6 weeks later, his purchases start rolling in. WOW was about all I could say to this phenomenon. I resolved then and there to do everything I could to block this type of purchase in the future.
Low and behold, 4-6 weeks ago (you know, they always say “please allow 4-6 weeks for delivery”) Hubby musta had a relapse. I went to the mailbox yesterday and found a large package crammed in there. Not thinking too much about it as I had been doing a lot of online shopping, I took it home and opened it up. “StuffZ”? What in the world is this? And why are there 3 of them??
After reading the directions I realize that we have another gadget in our kitchen. This handy, dandy little gadget lets you make stuffed hamburgers in your very own kitchen, with little mess and lots of fun, so the advert says anyway. I check out the gizmo and put it together…hmmm, this could be a neat way to fix up a burger, why not? I thaw out hamburger, fry up some bacon, shred cheese, and slice up some jalapeno peppers. Over the course of the next 90 minutes I proceed to say a whole lot of cuss words and probably threw a thing or two across the kitchen. Yes, it really took me 90 minutes to make 8 “stuffed” burgers. Hubby comes home and is all excited that his purchase arrived and the product of this new gadget is cooking on the grill.
To be perfectly honest, once I got the hang of working this tool, it was a pretty neat idea and the burgers turned out very good. I was just surprised how long the learning curve was! I don’t think I will do this every time I grill burgers, but to mix things up now and then, it was probably $9.99 (maybe) well spent.
One a different note, December is considered “pay it forward” month. Take some time, and maybe a dollar or ten and do something kind for a complete stranger. If you can’t spare any money, give yourself by helping physically. You never know when it may be you who needs that helping hand.
Hubby and I donated to be able to ride a party bus last weekend. We went with old friends and made many new friends. While some of the stories may not be suitable for public consumption, let me suffice it to say it was one HELL of a good time and for a worthy cause that we were proud to support.
I wish you all the best during this holiday season!
There was a time about 12 years ago that he had a fairly severe knee injury that happened at work. He was laid up at home, on crutches and pretty much couch bound. Apparently this isn’t a good combo for him because about day 3 of this I return home from work w/ the kids and find him asleep on the couch with the cordless phone in one hand and his credit card in the other. EEEK! 4 – 6 weeks later, his purchases start rolling in. WOW was about all I could say to this phenomenon. I resolved then and there to do everything I could to block this type of purchase in the future.
Low and behold, 4-6 weeks ago (you know, they always say “please allow 4-6 weeks for delivery”) Hubby musta had a relapse. I went to the mailbox yesterday and found a large package crammed in there. Not thinking too much about it as I had been doing a lot of online shopping, I took it home and opened it up. “StuffZ”? What in the world is this? And why are there 3 of them??
After reading the directions I realize that we have another gadget in our kitchen. This handy, dandy little gadget lets you make stuffed hamburgers in your very own kitchen, with little mess and lots of fun, so the advert says anyway. I check out the gizmo and put it together…hmmm, this could be a neat way to fix up a burger, why not? I thaw out hamburger, fry up some bacon, shred cheese, and slice up some jalapeno peppers. Over the course of the next 90 minutes I proceed to say a whole lot of cuss words and probably threw a thing or two across the kitchen. Yes, it really took me 90 minutes to make 8 “stuffed” burgers. Hubby comes home and is all excited that his purchase arrived and the product of this new gadget is cooking on the grill.
To be perfectly honest, once I got the hang of working this tool, it was a pretty neat idea and the burgers turned out very good. I was just surprised how long the learning curve was! I don’t think I will do this every time I grill burgers, but to mix things up now and then, it was probably $9.99 (maybe) well spent.
One a different note, December is considered “pay it forward” month. Take some time, and maybe a dollar or ten and do something kind for a complete stranger. If you can’t spare any money, give yourself by helping physically. You never know when it may be you who needs that helping hand.
Hubby and I donated to be able to ride a party bus last weekend. We went with old friends and made many new friends. While some of the stories may not be suitable for public consumption, let me suffice it to say it was one HELL of a good time and for a worthy cause that we were proud to support.
I wish you all the best during this holiday season!
Monday, November 18, 2013
The more things change....
Wow, it's hard to believe that the holidays are coming full steam! Tomorrow will be the one year anniversary of my dad passing away. Can't believe it's went by this fast. I would like to think I am healing and moving on with life as I should. Most days, I would say 'yup, doing ok'.
My Army man has found a new girlfriend. I approve, not that it matters one way or another in the whole scheme of things. She seems like a nice young woman and I am pretty sure that her little girl is going to have me wrapped around her little finger if I get to spend very much time with her at all. The first night I met the little one, after just a few hours she wanted to give me "happy smacks". I wasn't sure exactly what to expect, because when you have raised two boys, a smack is not usually a good thing! But apparently a 'happy smack' from a sweet little 2 year old involves hugs and kisses! The best thing about the new girl in his life is that he is happier than I have seen him in months, if not years. I have a feeling that if the little one and her mom hang around much longer that I will have to come up with aliases for them so that they can be included in this blog. I am betting the little one will provide much fodder for me to write about. Probably making more fun of myself and my struggles with dealing with little girls, hair ribbons, baby dolls, etc. OMG..I just freaked myself out a bit with that thought....
My little guy just turned 16 a couple days ago and bought his first car. We are calling it the pimp mobile as it is a black Cadillac. He has bought a good car at a reasonable price so that is all good, even though the cassette deck confused him a fair amount. Talk about a change in lifestyle for Hubby and I! I remember when Army man got his license he disappeared at every opportunity. Now that the Little Guy is driving, hubby and I are kinda sitting around looking at each other a lot wondering what to do? No kid to pick up after school, no practice to sit in the parking lot waiting on completion, etc! It's kinda nice and a lot strange. Little Guy is a lot less confident in driving around by himself than what his older brother was, but he will get there and will be disappearing more and more. Job applications are flying through his little hands as fast as he can fill them out. He is desperate to find a job that doesn't involve hogs and Boss Dad!
Date night came into play last Saturday and it was nice to be able to go out once again, just the two of us. We visited the Tuscany Grill in Robinson and was very impressed. Went to walmart afterward (wahoo!) and came home. I think Hubby and I are going to have to revamp the date night rules so that WalMart isn't an option for entertainment on date night. I am hoping this adjustment period will go smoothly for hubby and I as we learn even more about being US again as opposed to just being Dad and Mom.
Our youngest wiener has completely went nuts the last couple weeks. I swear she has a little wiener meth lab hidden somewhere in the house. She goes from perfectly normal, napping wiener to full on psycho mode at the drop of a hat. I don't think all three of the previous wieners were nearly as ornery and destructive as this one little shit is. Another underwear buying mission will soon have to be completed, for the whole family! ..little pervy wiener is hell on them!
Proud mom moment also recently occurred. My Little guy asked me if we were once again going to deliver gifts to Crossroads Cancer patients like we did last year. My heart just swelled when I realized how well both of my boys have learned the whole 'random act of kindness' lessons. And yes, the good Lord willing, we will once again deliver Christmas cards with a little something something in it for the patients, hopefully making their Christmas just a little easier while they fight the cancer beast. And who knows...maybe the new girlfriend and her little one (man, I really gotta name them!) will join us in what I hope continues as a family holiday tradition!
Last but not least, I spent most of the month of October with my big brother working at cleaning up dad's place and preparing his final resting place. I am so proud of how everything turned out. Dad and Mom are resting together, as they should be. It has finally been decided that my Army man will for sure have Dad's place. This makes me very happy knowing that it will remain in the family. Army Man is buying the pond side of the land from my brother and I am deeding the house and what would have been my property over to him. He will have a nice place to start building his life with and hubby and I will always have fishing rights. ;)
Getting this task completed and completed well, if I do say so myself, has helped me more than anything else this past year. Big Brother and I are closer now than what we have ever been and that is such a treasure to me. I hope he reads this and realizes how very important that he and his family are to me and mine!
Happy Monday folks, if you get a chance...help out a complete stranger whenever you can. You will be amazed at the kindness that comes back to you!
My Army man has found a new girlfriend. I approve, not that it matters one way or another in the whole scheme of things. She seems like a nice young woman and I am pretty sure that her little girl is going to have me wrapped around her little finger if I get to spend very much time with her at all. The first night I met the little one, after just a few hours she wanted to give me "happy smacks". I wasn't sure exactly what to expect, because when you have raised two boys, a smack is not usually a good thing! But apparently a 'happy smack' from a sweet little 2 year old involves hugs and kisses! The best thing about the new girl in his life is that he is happier than I have seen him in months, if not years. I have a feeling that if the little one and her mom hang around much longer that I will have to come up with aliases for them so that they can be included in this blog. I am betting the little one will provide much fodder for me to write about. Probably making more fun of myself and my struggles with dealing with little girls, hair ribbons, baby dolls, etc. OMG..I just freaked myself out a bit with that thought....
My little guy just turned 16 a couple days ago and bought his first car. We are calling it the pimp mobile as it is a black Cadillac. He has bought a good car at a reasonable price so that is all good, even though the cassette deck confused him a fair amount. Talk about a change in lifestyle for Hubby and I! I remember when Army man got his license he disappeared at every opportunity. Now that the Little Guy is driving, hubby and I are kinda sitting around looking at each other a lot wondering what to do? No kid to pick up after school, no practice to sit in the parking lot waiting on completion, etc! It's kinda nice and a lot strange. Little Guy is a lot less confident in driving around by himself than what his older brother was, but he will get there and will be disappearing more and more. Job applications are flying through his little hands as fast as he can fill them out. He is desperate to find a job that doesn't involve hogs and Boss Dad!
Date night came into play last Saturday and it was nice to be able to go out once again, just the two of us. We visited the Tuscany Grill in Robinson and was very impressed. Went to walmart afterward (wahoo!) and came home. I think Hubby and I are going to have to revamp the date night rules so that WalMart isn't an option for entertainment on date night. I am hoping this adjustment period will go smoothly for hubby and I as we learn even more about being US again as opposed to just being Dad and Mom.
Our youngest wiener has completely went nuts the last couple weeks. I swear she has a little wiener meth lab hidden somewhere in the house. She goes from perfectly normal, napping wiener to full on psycho mode at the drop of a hat. I don't think all three of the previous wieners were nearly as ornery and destructive as this one little shit is. Another underwear buying mission will soon have to be completed, for the whole family! ..little pervy wiener is hell on them!
Proud mom moment also recently occurred. My Little guy asked me if we were once again going to deliver gifts to Crossroads Cancer patients like we did last year. My heart just swelled when I realized how well both of my boys have learned the whole 'random act of kindness' lessons. And yes, the good Lord willing, we will once again deliver Christmas cards with a little something something in it for the patients, hopefully making their Christmas just a little easier while they fight the cancer beast. And who knows...maybe the new girlfriend and her little one (man, I really gotta name them!) will join us in what I hope continues as a family holiday tradition!
Last but not least, I spent most of the month of October with my big brother working at cleaning up dad's place and preparing his final resting place. I am so proud of how everything turned out. Dad and Mom are resting together, as they should be. It has finally been decided that my Army man will for sure have Dad's place. This makes me very happy knowing that it will remain in the family. Army Man is buying the pond side of the land from my brother and I am deeding the house and what would have been my property over to him. He will have a nice place to start building his life with and hubby and I will always have fishing rights. ;)
Getting this task completed and completed well, if I do say so myself, has helped me more than anything else this past year. Big Brother and I are closer now than what we have ever been and that is such a treasure to me. I hope he reads this and realizes how very important that he and his family are to me and mine!
Happy Monday folks, if you get a chance...help out a complete stranger whenever you can. You will be amazed at the kindness that comes back to you!
Wednesday, October 23, 2013
Still learning.....
Personally, I hate that feeling of being “out of control” when I am pissed off. I freely admit I have a temper although I am usually able to keep myself under control and not retaliate more than a couple verbal shots to the offender’s ego. But, if you make me mad enough that I cry….watch out, I am close to the explosion that, more than likely, you deserve. I don’t cry easily or often. I don’t like to cry, it makes my nose get all red and stuffy and my face gets all blotchy.
There was an incident a while ago that brought me to tears in a very public way, right on the sideline of a varsity football game. Without going into complete detail, lets just summarize the incident into a brief sentence: “You were adopted by Leo, you aren’t even his real kid”. Talk about a kick in the teeth! That comment really hurt which in turn made me so angry I could do nothing but stand there with tears rolling down my face and my heart breaking.
I have known since I was old enough to understand the phrase, that Dad had adopted me. Dad met me for the first time when I was six weeks old and I have never thought of Dad as anything but “Dad”. He chose to legally make my brother and I his own shortly after getting married to my mom. What really knocked me on my ass about this comment wasn’t the attack on me but the lack of respect it showed my dad and his memory. How could someone question his intentions for my brother and I almost 42 years after he made that decision? He taught me how to fish, ride two wheel bikes, and applied band-aids as needed. He raised me to know how to work, what respect is, and how good you feel when you help others just because you can. He was always there for me to lean on when I needed to and later on, he knew I would always be there for him. Dad raised my brother and I as his kids and I can, without a doubt in my mind, say he never thought about the process anymore than what we did.
I freely admit that when I heard this, I lost it. I said some things that were probably uncalled for and really not nice at all. After loosing sleep over this, shedding tears, saying a whole lot of words that aren’t very Christian, and throwing/kicking many things, I started to calm down a bit. I admit, it took me a while to calm down enough to think through the problem, but I eventually did.
When I took the time to rationally go through everything that had happened, my focus cleared up a bit. Not only could I see what the intentions behind this comment were, I could also see the emotions behind it. The anger & bitterness, while directed at me, stem from feelings regret and jealousy. Nothing I say or do can cure these problems for someone else. That’s for them to deal with and hopefully heal from. I made my choices over the last several years; I live with them and have no real regrets or doubts about my choices.
While I will never forget the intentional pain inflicted by this comment and the many others, I will learn to turn the other cheek as often as I need to. (Thank Jim K, I needed that reminder!!) I will continue to be the person my Dad raised me to be: A good wife, mother, sister, and friend. Someone who is honest, who works hard, plays often, and whose character and integrity are not often questioned. With that being said, I am not nor will I ever be a doormat that people can just walk all over. I will stand for what I believe is right and may the good Lord be by your side if you try to hurt me or mine.
And how are you?
There was an incident a while ago that brought me to tears in a very public way, right on the sideline of a varsity football game. Without going into complete detail, lets just summarize the incident into a brief sentence: “You were adopted by Leo, you aren’t even his real kid”. Talk about a kick in the teeth! That comment really hurt which in turn made me so angry I could do nothing but stand there with tears rolling down my face and my heart breaking.
I have known since I was old enough to understand the phrase, that Dad had adopted me. Dad met me for the first time when I was six weeks old and I have never thought of Dad as anything but “Dad”. He chose to legally make my brother and I his own shortly after getting married to my mom. What really knocked me on my ass about this comment wasn’t the attack on me but the lack of respect it showed my dad and his memory. How could someone question his intentions for my brother and I almost 42 years after he made that decision? He taught me how to fish, ride two wheel bikes, and applied band-aids as needed. He raised me to know how to work, what respect is, and how good you feel when you help others just because you can. He was always there for me to lean on when I needed to and later on, he knew I would always be there for him. Dad raised my brother and I as his kids and I can, without a doubt in my mind, say he never thought about the process anymore than what we did.
I freely admit that when I heard this, I lost it. I said some things that were probably uncalled for and really not nice at all. After loosing sleep over this, shedding tears, saying a whole lot of words that aren’t very Christian, and throwing/kicking many things, I started to calm down a bit. I admit, it took me a while to calm down enough to think through the problem, but I eventually did.
When I took the time to rationally go through everything that had happened, my focus cleared up a bit. Not only could I see what the intentions behind this comment were, I could also see the emotions behind it. The anger & bitterness, while directed at me, stem from feelings regret and jealousy. Nothing I say or do can cure these problems for someone else. That’s for them to deal with and hopefully heal from. I made my choices over the last several years; I live with them and have no real regrets or doubts about my choices.
While I will never forget the intentional pain inflicted by this comment and the many others, I will learn to turn the other cheek as often as I need to. (Thank Jim K, I needed that reminder!!) I will continue to be the person my Dad raised me to be: A good wife, mother, sister, and friend. Someone who is honest, who works hard, plays often, and whose character and integrity are not often questioned. With that being said, I am not nor will I ever be a doormat that people can just walk all over. I will stand for what I believe is right and may the good Lord be by your side if you try to hurt me or mine.
And how are you?
Wednesday, October 2, 2013
Health Care Reform...my ass!
A while ago my little guy was complaining of pain in his knee and down to his leg. For the first little while, we blamed it on the fact that he had grown almost 6 inches in seven months and that football was becoming pretty physical. After working with the athletic trainer for a while, the trainer thought it would be a good idea to send the little guy to an Ortho to get the knee and leg more thoroughly examined. An appointment was made for Wednesday morning and away we went.
The first thing the Doctor did was order X-rays of his knee and leg. We sit in the exam room for what seems like forever, waiting on the doctor. When he finally comes in, I could sense right away he was concerned. Call it mom-stinct or whatever, but my stomach immediately clenched up and I felt the beginnings of panic setting in. There are times when being able to read people well is more of a curse than a blessing. The doctor begins to examine the little guy but he wasn’t focusing on his knee hardly at all. He was really poking and prodding down in the upper shin and calf areas. Several minutes pass and the doctor finally moves up to his knee and does all the knee tests that I am so very familiar with. The doctor completes his exam and sits down. He buzzes his nurse asking her to bring in his laptop so that he can show me the x-rays.
The doctor starts off with the knee and says that there may be a small meniscus tear but he thinks that the knee is structurally sound. But…(I hate when Doctors say “But”) there are two spots showing on the x-ray in the upper shin area of Little Guy’s leg that shouldn’t be there. Spots?? What the hell? He is only 15! I ask if the spots are bruising in his leg from a hit or something. The doctor says no, these are within the bone itself and we need to get a clearer picture of them to determine if they are cancerous or not.
Talk about a gut check. I felt the urge to vomit right there, all over his slick little Apple computer. I look over at Little Guy to check his reaction. He is completely engrossed in his ipod and not paying any attention at all, which is somewhat of a relief. Kids shouldn’t have to hear stuff like that, should they? I try to tell myself that I am not hearing him right. Surely, we can’t be discussing the big C when it comes to my baby boy, right?! The Doctor patiently explains to me again what his fears are with the spots as I am doing everything I can to make him change what he just said.
Finally, Control Freak Suzi asserts herself and I start asking where we go from here. I am a planner, damnit; give me a plan to focus on so my mind will take over and my guts can settle. The doctor wants to do an MRI of the knee and leg so that a very clear picture of these spots can be made. Great, lets get that done. I/we can wait all day to get one done. What time shall we be back for the MRI today? Well, low and behold, we can’t get it done today. I am at a loss. We can’t get this test done today? When my Army man and Hubby had knee injuries, the MRI’s were done w/in hours of the appointment. The scheduling nurse patiently explains to me that with all the regulations and changes that have come to pass due to “Obama Care” we will have to wait for insurance approval. (Flipping Obama Care! Grrrr!) An MRI was scheduled for Monday morning and a follow up appointment on the next Wednesday to get the results.
Okay, waiting a few days for an answer isn’t awful, I can handle this, right? Yup, I suck it up, put on my brave face and take Little Guy to school. I go home, find Hubby and explain the situation to him. We are both worried and feeling a little ill. Hubby asked what Little Guy thought about everything. I have to snort at this point because Little Guy was completely oblivious to the gut wrenching conversation that took place right in front of him, all he knew is that he has to have an MRI done and that he doesn’t want surgery if his meniscus is torn until after football season is over. Hubby and I decided that it wasn’t necessary to fully explain the details of the visit unless he asked about them. We both agreed that a 15 year old shouldn’t have to worry about this until it was absolutely necessary for him to have to worry about it. So the wait begins…..
Friday evening my phone rings. It is the scheduling nurse that we worked with to get the MRI set up. Well, we can’t do the MRI Monday because the insurance company hasn’t approved it. WHAT?! What do you mean they haven’t approved it? Why are you calling me at 4:45 pm on Friday to tell me this? Ohhh, I am pissed! I call my insurance agent and again it is explained to me that due to Obama Care, our insurance may not allow the MRI to happen right away. The case will have to be reviewed by the company’s medical team and a decision made as it whether or not this test is really needed, so on and so forth. Don’t get me wrong, our agent is the complete shit when it comes to our insurance needs, I am not knocking him at all. By this time, it is after 5 pm and all hands are tied. Our agent tells me that first thing Monday, he will do whatever he can do to get the ball rolling on this. I call the scheduling nurse back (poor thing, she bore the brunt of pissed off Mama Bear pretty well) and she is just as frustrated as I am, it seems. It’s always interesting to get the opinion of folks who work in the medical field about the Obama Care bullshit. The MRI is rescheduled for Wednesday pending insurance approval. With the help of the Doctor, our agent and a little bit of pissed off mama bear, the Wednesday morning MRI is approved by Monday afternoon.
MRI get’s done and the Dr’s office calls to ask us to go ahead and come in to get the results that day. They have sent the MRI off to get an immediate reading (technology is a wonderful thing). The spots are NOT cancerous, they are just deformities in his bone that will cause no long-term effects or problems. And the knee shows a small amount of fluid build up due to a slight sprain (stretching) of his MCL. There is nothing to worry about on either issue. Words can’t really describe the relief I felt upon hearing this. I say a silent thank you prayer and look at my little guy. Rhut Roh…he is PISSED!
As we walk out of the office and get into the truck my Little Guy is fuming. He asks why we didn’t tell him that the MRI was checking him for cancer? Didn’t we think he had a right to know this? He is completely full of 15-year-old hormone outrage. I told him that the doctor had explained everything the first visit when we were both in the room and that he just wasn’t paying attention. Hubby and I had discussed it and felt that it was not necessary to put that type of stress onto him. Little Guy was still upset and felt we mislead him about everything. I told him that I would lie down in front of a train to keep him from having to go through that type of stress and worry at his age. I refused to apologize for it and would make the same choice everyday for the next year if I had to. He was mad for a while, but after a couple of days I think he began to understand our position on this.
By now you are probably wondering why I have went into this long-winded dissertation about a simple knee sprain. Well folks, you need to educate yourselves about “Obama Care” and all of its repercussions. Did you know that when this plan fully takes effect, you could be told when and where you can see a doctor? If I find a lump in my breast, I could be put on a list for the next available mammogram, which may not take place for 6 months or more? So much for early detection and treatment! The government and the insurance company will be telling YOUR doctor what is needed, not the other way around. I could go on for many more pages about my findings when I took the time to educate myself about this bullshit. Not what the news told me, not what I read on Facebook, but actual honest to God education. For your own sakes, talk to a nurse, ask your doctor, talk to your insurance agent, talk to a congressman who knows (snort!) the ever-changing facts about Obama Care. And beware…if anyone tells you that they completely understand the nonsense that is the Obama Care health act, you should call bullshit on them at once.
Take the time and help yourself folks…. you never know when it may be your 15 year old child facing the possibility of the big C,…and then it’s up to some unknown entity who couldn’t give two shits about him that will decide if and when he gets the necessary testing and/or treatment.
The first thing the Doctor did was order X-rays of his knee and leg. We sit in the exam room for what seems like forever, waiting on the doctor. When he finally comes in, I could sense right away he was concerned. Call it mom-stinct or whatever, but my stomach immediately clenched up and I felt the beginnings of panic setting in. There are times when being able to read people well is more of a curse than a blessing. The doctor begins to examine the little guy but he wasn’t focusing on his knee hardly at all. He was really poking and prodding down in the upper shin and calf areas. Several minutes pass and the doctor finally moves up to his knee and does all the knee tests that I am so very familiar with. The doctor completes his exam and sits down. He buzzes his nurse asking her to bring in his laptop so that he can show me the x-rays.
The doctor starts off with the knee and says that there may be a small meniscus tear but he thinks that the knee is structurally sound. But…(I hate when Doctors say “But”) there are two spots showing on the x-ray in the upper shin area of Little Guy’s leg that shouldn’t be there. Spots?? What the hell? He is only 15! I ask if the spots are bruising in his leg from a hit or something. The doctor says no, these are within the bone itself and we need to get a clearer picture of them to determine if they are cancerous or not.
Talk about a gut check. I felt the urge to vomit right there, all over his slick little Apple computer. I look over at Little Guy to check his reaction. He is completely engrossed in his ipod and not paying any attention at all, which is somewhat of a relief. Kids shouldn’t have to hear stuff like that, should they? I try to tell myself that I am not hearing him right. Surely, we can’t be discussing the big C when it comes to my baby boy, right?! The Doctor patiently explains to me again what his fears are with the spots as I am doing everything I can to make him change what he just said.
Finally, Control Freak Suzi asserts herself and I start asking where we go from here. I am a planner, damnit; give me a plan to focus on so my mind will take over and my guts can settle. The doctor wants to do an MRI of the knee and leg so that a very clear picture of these spots can be made. Great, lets get that done. I/we can wait all day to get one done. What time shall we be back for the MRI today? Well, low and behold, we can’t get it done today. I am at a loss. We can’t get this test done today? When my Army man and Hubby had knee injuries, the MRI’s were done w/in hours of the appointment. The scheduling nurse patiently explains to me that with all the regulations and changes that have come to pass due to “Obama Care” we will have to wait for insurance approval. (Flipping Obama Care! Grrrr!) An MRI was scheduled for Monday morning and a follow up appointment on the next Wednesday to get the results.
Okay, waiting a few days for an answer isn’t awful, I can handle this, right? Yup, I suck it up, put on my brave face and take Little Guy to school. I go home, find Hubby and explain the situation to him. We are both worried and feeling a little ill. Hubby asked what Little Guy thought about everything. I have to snort at this point because Little Guy was completely oblivious to the gut wrenching conversation that took place right in front of him, all he knew is that he has to have an MRI done and that he doesn’t want surgery if his meniscus is torn until after football season is over. Hubby and I decided that it wasn’t necessary to fully explain the details of the visit unless he asked about them. We both agreed that a 15 year old shouldn’t have to worry about this until it was absolutely necessary for him to have to worry about it. So the wait begins…..
Friday evening my phone rings. It is the scheduling nurse that we worked with to get the MRI set up. Well, we can’t do the MRI Monday because the insurance company hasn’t approved it. WHAT?! What do you mean they haven’t approved it? Why are you calling me at 4:45 pm on Friday to tell me this? Ohhh, I am pissed! I call my insurance agent and again it is explained to me that due to Obama Care, our insurance may not allow the MRI to happen right away. The case will have to be reviewed by the company’s medical team and a decision made as it whether or not this test is really needed, so on and so forth. Don’t get me wrong, our agent is the complete shit when it comes to our insurance needs, I am not knocking him at all. By this time, it is after 5 pm and all hands are tied. Our agent tells me that first thing Monday, he will do whatever he can do to get the ball rolling on this. I call the scheduling nurse back (poor thing, she bore the brunt of pissed off Mama Bear pretty well) and she is just as frustrated as I am, it seems. It’s always interesting to get the opinion of folks who work in the medical field about the Obama Care bullshit. The MRI is rescheduled for Wednesday pending insurance approval. With the help of the Doctor, our agent and a little bit of pissed off mama bear, the Wednesday morning MRI is approved by Monday afternoon.
MRI get’s done and the Dr’s office calls to ask us to go ahead and come in to get the results that day. They have sent the MRI off to get an immediate reading (technology is a wonderful thing). The spots are NOT cancerous, they are just deformities in his bone that will cause no long-term effects or problems. And the knee shows a small amount of fluid build up due to a slight sprain (stretching) of his MCL. There is nothing to worry about on either issue. Words can’t really describe the relief I felt upon hearing this. I say a silent thank you prayer and look at my little guy. Rhut Roh…he is PISSED!
As we walk out of the office and get into the truck my Little Guy is fuming. He asks why we didn’t tell him that the MRI was checking him for cancer? Didn’t we think he had a right to know this? He is completely full of 15-year-old hormone outrage. I told him that the doctor had explained everything the first visit when we were both in the room and that he just wasn’t paying attention. Hubby and I had discussed it and felt that it was not necessary to put that type of stress onto him. Little Guy was still upset and felt we mislead him about everything. I told him that I would lie down in front of a train to keep him from having to go through that type of stress and worry at his age. I refused to apologize for it and would make the same choice everyday for the next year if I had to. He was mad for a while, but after a couple of days I think he began to understand our position on this.
By now you are probably wondering why I have went into this long-winded dissertation about a simple knee sprain. Well folks, you need to educate yourselves about “Obama Care” and all of its repercussions. Did you know that when this plan fully takes effect, you could be told when and where you can see a doctor? If I find a lump in my breast, I could be put on a list for the next available mammogram, which may not take place for 6 months or more? So much for early detection and treatment! The government and the insurance company will be telling YOUR doctor what is needed, not the other way around. I could go on for many more pages about my findings when I took the time to educate myself about this bullshit. Not what the news told me, not what I read on Facebook, but actual honest to God education. For your own sakes, talk to a nurse, ask your doctor, talk to your insurance agent, talk to a congressman who knows (snort!) the ever-changing facts about Obama Care. And beware…if anyone tells you that they completely understand the nonsense that is the Obama Care health act, you should call bullshit on them at once.
Take the time and help yourself folks…. you never know when it may be your 15 year old child facing the possibility of the big C,…and then it’s up to some unknown entity who couldn’t give two shits about him that will decide if and when he gets the necessary testing and/or treatment.
Friday, August 23, 2013
So many changes.....
When I sit back and look at my life over this past year, one thing that stands out to me is how much my life has changed. Sometimes, my head just reels when I ponder this. Some of the changes are very good, some are just life and some are maybe not so good.
I have come to realize that without my friends and family, I would have probably comepletely lost myself in the midst of all this change. For the most part, I am still me..just a slightly different version. I have found myself slowly weeding out the shit in my life that gives me a stomach ache. It's just not worth my happiness to worry about how "everyone" percieves me. I am me, take me and love me for who and what I am or walk away and leave me. The choice is yours.
When Dad died, I realized pretty darn quickly how much my friends mean to me and even how much I probably mean to them. Whether you came to sit on my kitchen floor with me to comfort me me because I was too out of it to grab a chair, or you brought me a "Mary Prayer" bracelet that was just perfect, or you brought a bottle of booze to share with a hug and a sympathetic ear. Maybe you agreed with me that being COMPLETELY PISSED OFF was really okay, and probably you took time out of your professional life to help me weed through all of the beuracratic nonsense that follows a death. My friends (female and male alike) were right there for me and I know that they always will be. Today, I thank you for that. Each and everyone of you (and I think you all know who you are) made me feel loved, protected, and supported. For that I am grateful and want you to all know that you each hold a special place in my heart.
I also finally learned that I don't have to be strong all the time. No one is going to look down on me for showing how much I hurt and that leaning on others is what it's all about. Saying "Help" doesn't constitute weakness at all. For several years I attempted to be Super Suzi. My thinking was "Do it yourself, don't ask for help, just suck it up and do it!" I realize now how many people I let down by trying to do it all. To those closest to me, mainly hubby and my boys, I will say that I am sorry for putting you "in line" with all my other duties and I will say Thank you for not giving up on me. Stubborn pride will get the best of folks sometimes, it sure did me.
I have also realized that I just can't fix everything. Yeah, I know that sounds cocky but I am naturally someone who wants to make peoples problems go away. Sometimes you just can't do that, all you can do is be there to listen, hug, support and occasionally take them out to get drunk and put the problem on the back burner for a couple hours. Maybe, sometimes the best fix for those close to me is just being me. Wow, that's kinda scary to think about, huh?
Some of you may be a little surprised by this next change, but if you're surprised then you probably only know the "Surface Suzi" and not the "Complete Suzi". I have actually become a lot more outspoken when it comes to standing up for me. Used to be when somone would say or do something that hurt my feelings, I would joke it off and let it go. I have always wanted to be a people pleaser so I would tell myself "he/she really didn't mean that" or "they are just trying to be funny". Yeah, I use snarky sarcasm a lot, but mostly that is just me and my humor, I rarely make it personal. I haven't always stood up for myself and what I need. My feelings, wants and needs were usually pushed to the side so as not to rock the boat. I find myself not doing that so much anymore. While I still won't start an argument, if you are out of line I am going to call you on it. It may be somthing so simple as saying "Ouch" if you are being mean (intentionally or not) to me or it may turn into a screaming tirade that you are completely unprepared for. (Little Guy thinks those are funny when not directed at him) I think part of this may be 42 year old hormones but part of it is also long overdue.
I had a few plans and dreams in my head that I have had to finally let go of and boy, let me assure you, that hurt! Some people say "Never give up on your dreams". That's cool and all but sometimes you just have to admit to yourself what is realistic and realize that maybe holding onto that dream is causing more harm than good. But once I accepted that what I wanted to happen wasn't going to happen, I was shocked at how many other ideas came up. I was also plesantly surprised that my six month long stomach ache had pretty much disappeared. Little Guy and I had a conversation about this. He said to me "I am sorry you have to go through this..I can see how hard this was for you". Out of the mouths of babes comes a true reality check. I won't go into details about the dream I had to let go, partly because it is still pretty painful and raw and partly because you, dear reader, don't need to know ALL of my deep, dark secrets. I am thrilled with the ideas and thoughts that are now bouncing around in my slightly warped mind. They fill me with excitement, not acid reflux! Even if they never reach fulfillment, they are there for me to go after. And I am!
My OCD tendencies have also waned a bit. I no longer have a complete meltdown if something doesn't go as I think it should. While I still have my "psycho" moments, they are fewer and further apart. I still haven't given up on my "lists" and I don't think I ever will but I allow much more wiggle room in them. This is a fairly positive change as you just can't "plan" life. It is going to happen even if it's not on your to-do list. My blood pressure is down significantly... ;)
All in all this year definately had it's moments, good and bad. I am much more self-aware and I think I am more comfortable in my own skin now than I have been in a long time. I have learned how to ask for what I need, how to tell folks what I don't need and I think I have even made a few more fun friends. But, I don't think I have become that person who only thinks of herself. I catch myself still trying to "fix" a few things, but hey, that's one of the best parts of me. Who knows if all of these changes will last? Not me..hell, 6 months from now I may have thrown away my favorite ball cap & Nikes, and will be wearing dresses and heels, combing my hair and wearing make-up daily. If that happens...someone please STOP me and get me the hormone replacement I would so obviously need!! I beg you!!
Happy LIFE folks, that's what counts!
I have come to realize that without my friends and family, I would have probably comepletely lost myself in the midst of all this change. For the most part, I am still me..just a slightly different version. I have found myself slowly weeding out the shit in my life that gives me a stomach ache. It's just not worth my happiness to worry about how "everyone" percieves me. I am me, take me and love me for who and what I am or walk away and leave me. The choice is yours.
When Dad died, I realized pretty darn quickly how much my friends mean to me and even how much I probably mean to them. Whether you came to sit on my kitchen floor with me to comfort me me because I was too out of it to grab a chair, or you brought me a "Mary Prayer" bracelet that was just perfect, or you brought a bottle of booze to share with a hug and a sympathetic ear. Maybe you agreed with me that being COMPLETELY PISSED OFF was really okay, and probably you took time out of your professional life to help me weed through all of the beuracratic nonsense that follows a death. My friends (female and male alike) were right there for me and I know that they always will be. Today, I thank you for that. Each and everyone of you (and I think you all know who you are) made me feel loved, protected, and supported. For that I am grateful and want you to all know that you each hold a special place in my heart.
I also finally learned that I don't have to be strong all the time. No one is going to look down on me for showing how much I hurt and that leaning on others is what it's all about. Saying "Help" doesn't constitute weakness at all. For several years I attempted to be Super Suzi. My thinking was "Do it yourself, don't ask for help, just suck it up and do it!" I realize now how many people I let down by trying to do it all. To those closest to me, mainly hubby and my boys, I will say that I am sorry for putting you "in line" with all my other duties and I will say Thank you for not giving up on me. Stubborn pride will get the best of folks sometimes, it sure did me.
I have also realized that I just can't fix everything. Yeah, I know that sounds cocky but I am naturally someone who wants to make peoples problems go away. Sometimes you just can't do that, all you can do is be there to listen, hug, support and occasionally take them out to get drunk and put the problem on the back burner for a couple hours. Maybe, sometimes the best fix for those close to me is just being me. Wow, that's kinda scary to think about, huh?
Some of you may be a little surprised by this next change, but if you're surprised then you probably only know the "Surface Suzi" and not the "Complete Suzi". I have actually become a lot more outspoken when it comes to standing up for me. Used to be when somone would say or do something that hurt my feelings, I would joke it off and let it go. I have always wanted to be a people pleaser so I would tell myself "he/she really didn't mean that" or "they are just trying to be funny". Yeah, I use snarky sarcasm a lot, but mostly that is just me and my humor, I rarely make it personal. I haven't always stood up for myself and what I need. My feelings, wants and needs were usually pushed to the side so as not to rock the boat. I find myself not doing that so much anymore. While I still won't start an argument, if you are out of line I am going to call you on it. It may be somthing so simple as saying "Ouch" if you are being mean (intentionally or not) to me or it may turn into a screaming tirade that you are completely unprepared for. (Little Guy thinks those are funny when not directed at him) I think part of this may be 42 year old hormones but part of it is also long overdue.
I had a few plans and dreams in my head that I have had to finally let go of and boy, let me assure you, that hurt! Some people say "Never give up on your dreams". That's cool and all but sometimes you just have to admit to yourself what is realistic and realize that maybe holding onto that dream is causing more harm than good. But once I accepted that what I wanted to happen wasn't going to happen, I was shocked at how many other ideas came up. I was also plesantly surprised that my six month long stomach ache had pretty much disappeared. Little Guy and I had a conversation about this. He said to me "I am sorry you have to go through this..I can see how hard this was for you". Out of the mouths of babes comes a true reality check. I won't go into details about the dream I had to let go, partly because it is still pretty painful and raw and partly because you, dear reader, don't need to know ALL of my deep, dark secrets. I am thrilled with the ideas and thoughts that are now bouncing around in my slightly warped mind. They fill me with excitement, not acid reflux! Even if they never reach fulfillment, they are there for me to go after. And I am!
My OCD tendencies have also waned a bit. I no longer have a complete meltdown if something doesn't go as I think it should. While I still have my "psycho" moments, they are fewer and further apart. I still haven't given up on my "lists" and I don't think I ever will but I allow much more wiggle room in them. This is a fairly positive change as you just can't "plan" life. It is going to happen even if it's not on your to-do list. My blood pressure is down significantly... ;)
All in all this year definately had it's moments, good and bad. I am much more self-aware and I think I am more comfortable in my own skin now than I have been in a long time. I have learned how to ask for what I need, how to tell folks what I don't need and I think I have even made a few more fun friends. But, I don't think I have become that person who only thinks of herself. I catch myself still trying to "fix" a few things, but hey, that's one of the best parts of me. Who knows if all of these changes will last? Not me..hell, 6 months from now I may have thrown away my favorite ball cap & Nikes, and will be wearing dresses and heels, combing my hair and wearing make-up daily. If that happens...someone please STOP me and get me the hormone replacement I would so obviously need!! I beg you!!
Happy LIFE folks, that's what counts!
Tuesday, July 16, 2013
They're just BOOBS.....
What is it with guys and boobs? Ran into a "boob talker" the other day and the conversation went a little something like this:
Guy: "I saw you mowing Saturday" (Big Grin and quick glances at boobs)
Me: "Yeah, I was behind and spent the day mowing"
Guy: "You mow in your bathing suit. You looked good." (Longer glances, bigger grin and creepy eyebrow wiggle)
Me: "Yeah, uhhm, thanks?" ('this is awkward' tone )
Guy: "I can't believe 'hubby' lets you mow in your bathing suit!" (brief disapproving look before returning stare to my chest)
Me: "Uhhh, excuse me but 'LET ME' ?!?" (extremely pissy tone)
Guy: "Just didn't think he would approve. I wouldn't!" (mouth breathing while staring at my chest)
......And the conversation pretty much deteriorated from there.
Ok, really? First off, what is it with talking to boobs? I just don't get it. Yes...I have boobs...whoopeeee! Doesn't everyone? Some are bigger than others but really, a boob is a boob, right? My boobs don't talk, they know a few tricks but won't ever make to onto Ripley's, and they haven't really been useful for over 15 years. Yeah, they are fun a couple hours a day/week, but are mostly a pain in the back. Having big boobs doesn't effect my IQ level and I haven't named them, other than calling them "The Girls" on occasion. While I am not embarrassed by them, I don't flaunt them out in public a whole lot. I have modesty issues, remember? Usually, I forget they are there, until a mouth breather reminds me or they get in my way.
Yes, I wear a bathing suit top when I mow so I have a significant tan line. I can assure you that this mowing top is in no way a compromise to my modesty. Probably a bit more revealing than the tank tops I wear daily in the summer, but not much more. It's not like I am out there w/ a couple strings and triangles covering only the bare minimum to keep me from being arrested. (shudder, that just wouldn't be very good of me to do) And why on earth would I need Hubby's permission? Pretty sure it's my body to show or cover as I see fit. As for the guys I work with..I think most of them either think of me as one of the guys or someone who is their mom's age. I don't think half of them realize I am female most days. I was surprised that last Saturday night though; one of the guys we were with informed hubby that he should "let me" go topless to get rid of my tan line. I was amazed that the guy had the courage to tell hubby he was looking down my shirt, first off, as hubby is a pretty good sized guy to be saying this to. Secondly, I was impressed w/ hubby for only telling the guy that my tan line was my business. Ten years ago he probably woulda knocked the guy out, lol!
Ok, so I can kinda get it a little bit, some guys are "boob" guys. Some are "leg" guys, some are "ass" guys and so on. I get that because, hey..guess what? Women have certain things they like to look at and admire on the opposite sex too. Personally, when I notice a man, one of the first things I notice is his eyes. I just love pretty eyes that show warmth, humor and intelligence! (That's my brain asserting itself.) The eyes are normally followed by his hands. Are they soft and girly or strong, firm and manly? I don't want girly hands on a man! (That's the hormonal/perv side of me asserting itself) I am also a big voice person, the deeper the better! (Sam Elliot style:YUM! ((shivers)) Talk to me baby!) And yes, I do notice their overall body, especially the arms and ass. Those are the things that attract my attention when first meeting someone. But, I will say that I have never stared at any body part, other than eye contact, when carrying on a conversation with a man. (But, just maybe I have, on occasion, taken a quick picture from a distance to share w/ my like-minded perverted friends of an exceptionally fine specimen.)
But ladies, do you ever find yourself checking out a guys junk openly? When I sit here and think about it, I probably have glanced (yeah, I know I have) but I sure don't focus my attention on that area of their body for an extended period of time while trying to hold up my end of the conversation. Pretty sure if all of us women started talking to the "package" on the guys, they might get a clue...or a boner?
So...for all you "boob" guys out there...here are the rules:
#1 Looking/glancing (less than 30 seconds during a 5 minute interval) is usually OK. It can be kinda flattering, given the right circumstances.
#2 Talking to boobs instead of the woman, in a social setting is usually a no-no
#3 Talking to boobs instead of the woman, in ANY professional setting is ALWAYS a no-no!
#4 When talking to a woman you really don't know, never EVER give her the creepy eyebrow wiggle. It's just wrong!
#5 Titties is not a good word to use often...really, it isn't!
#6 Look us in the eye...trust me, it will only hurt the first time ;)
Happy Tuesday Folks!
Guy: "I saw you mowing Saturday" (Big Grin and quick glances at boobs)
Me: "Yeah, I was behind and spent the day mowing"
Guy: "You mow in your bathing suit. You looked good." (Longer glances, bigger grin and creepy eyebrow wiggle)
Me: "Yeah, uhhm, thanks?" ('this is awkward' tone )
Guy: "I can't believe 'hubby' lets you mow in your bathing suit!" (brief disapproving look before returning stare to my chest)
Me: "Uhhh, excuse me but 'LET ME' ?!?" (extremely pissy tone)
Guy: "Just didn't think he would approve. I wouldn't!" (mouth breathing while staring at my chest)
......And the conversation pretty much deteriorated from there.
Ok, really? First off, what is it with talking to boobs? I just don't get it. Yes...I have boobs...whoopeeee! Doesn't everyone? Some are bigger than others but really, a boob is a boob, right? My boobs don't talk, they know a few tricks but won't ever make to onto Ripley's, and they haven't really been useful for over 15 years. Yeah, they are fun a couple hours a day/week, but are mostly a pain in the back. Having big boobs doesn't effect my IQ level and I haven't named them, other than calling them "The Girls" on occasion. While I am not embarrassed by them, I don't flaunt them out in public a whole lot. I have modesty issues, remember? Usually, I forget they are there, until a mouth breather reminds me or they get in my way.
Yes, I wear a bathing suit top when I mow so I have a significant tan line. I can assure you that this mowing top is in no way a compromise to my modesty. Probably a bit more revealing than the tank tops I wear daily in the summer, but not much more. It's not like I am out there w/ a couple strings and triangles covering only the bare minimum to keep me from being arrested. (shudder, that just wouldn't be very good of me to do) And why on earth would I need Hubby's permission? Pretty sure it's my body to show or cover as I see fit. As for the guys I work with..I think most of them either think of me as one of the guys or someone who is their mom's age. I don't think half of them realize I am female most days. I was surprised that last Saturday night though; one of the guys we were with informed hubby that he should "let me" go topless to get rid of my tan line. I was amazed that the guy had the courage to tell hubby he was looking down my shirt, first off, as hubby is a pretty good sized guy to be saying this to. Secondly, I was impressed w/ hubby for only telling the guy that my tan line was my business. Ten years ago he probably woulda knocked the guy out, lol!
Ok, so I can kinda get it a little bit, some guys are "boob" guys. Some are "leg" guys, some are "ass" guys and so on. I get that because, hey..guess what? Women have certain things they like to look at and admire on the opposite sex too. Personally, when I notice a man, one of the first things I notice is his eyes. I just love pretty eyes that show warmth, humor and intelligence! (That's my brain asserting itself.) The eyes are normally followed by his hands. Are they soft and girly or strong, firm and manly? I don't want girly hands on a man! (That's the hormonal/perv side of me asserting itself) I am also a big voice person, the deeper the better! (Sam Elliot style:YUM! ((shivers)) Talk to me baby!) And yes, I do notice their overall body, especially the arms and ass. Those are the things that attract my attention when first meeting someone. But, I will say that I have never stared at any body part, other than eye contact, when carrying on a conversation with a man. (But, just maybe I have, on occasion, taken a quick picture from a distance to share w/ my like-minded perverted friends of an exceptionally fine specimen.)
But ladies, do you ever find yourself checking out a guys junk openly? When I sit here and think about it, I probably have glanced (yeah, I know I have) but I sure don't focus my attention on that area of their body for an extended period of time while trying to hold up my end of the conversation. Pretty sure if all of us women started talking to the "package" on the guys, they might get a clue...or a boner?
So...for all you "boob" guys out there...here are the rules:
#1 Looking/glancing (less than 30 seconds during a 5 minute interval) is usually OK. It can be kinda flattering, given the right circumstances.
#2 Talking to boobs instead of the woman, in a social setting is usually a no-no
#3 Talking to boobs instead of the woman, in ANY professional setting is ALWAYS a no-no!
#4 When talking to a woman you really don't know, never EVER give her the creepy eyebrow wiggle. It's just wrong!
#5 Titties is not a good word to use often...really, it isn't!
#6 Look us in the eye...trust me, it will only hurt the first time ;)
Happy Tuesday Folks!
Saturday, June 15, 2013
Parenthood & Random thoughts
When I first started driving I ended up with a flat tire one Friday night on my way to a winter dance with my friends. I had no clue at all what to do w/ a flat tire. I parked the car a couple blocks from the school, went inside, called the local chapter for Roadside assistance (Daddy) and went on my happy way to the dance. Never once thinking about how he had just gotten home from a 10 day rotary job in Michigan and that he was tired, cold and ready to be home. When the dance was over we all walked back to my car, made sure it fixed and finished up the night. How cool was that? Make a call and my problem was solved and I didn't even have to get my hands dirty. Or so I thought...
When I get home that night there is a note on the kitchen table for me. Basically my dad had ordered me an 8 am wake up and I would be at his shop in the morning, come hell or high water. When I arrived at the shop, I assumed that Dad was going to put the repaired tire on my car...man, was I deluded. I spent the next 5 hours learning how to replace a flat tire to his satisfaction. I learned how to properly and safely place and use the jack, how to remove the lug nuts and store them in the hub cap so that they wouldn't be lost. He showed me how to put the new tire on and how the lug nuts don't just get screwed on, there is a certain way they should be tightened. After about the third time I had replaced the tire, I started to whine just a bit. This was never a real good idea w/ my Dad and that day was totally the wrong day to do it. He asked me what kind of woman was I going to be? Was I going to be one of "those girls" who called a man to fix her problems all the time? Was I going to let a man handle everything in life? Or not??
At the time all I thought was "geesh, don't have a cow Dad!" But, even as a teenager, sometimes that odd lesson my parents were trying to teach me would actually sink in. I realized that Dad wasn't upset with me for calling him to repair a flat tire. I understood that he was upset w/ himself a bit for not teaching me beforehand how to handle a flat tire and upset with me for just flitting away and letting him handle the problem. I never again asked my Dad to just fix a problem. I had learned to ask him for help fixing my problems and learned a lot by his side like how to bait my own hook, remove my own fish, how to shoot both long guns and hand guns, and that sometimes 10 am is NOT to early for a cold beer! A keg needs tapped a certain way, just like lug nuts need tightened. Friends are there for you just as you are there for them, a hard days work never hurt anyone, helping someone out that needs it is never wrong, and that the best "Cure" for a hangover was pulling weeds in the garden so that all the alcohol would sweat out. (I still don't buy that one!)
I am pretty sure when my folks envisioned my future, they never imagined that I would be married at 19 and a mother at 20. When hubby and I decided to marry, they were shocked and really not sure it was such a great idea. What did Hubby and I know about being adults, having adult responsibilities, becoming parents, etc. Honestly, we didn't know shit about it, but we learned. When our oldest was born my mom was right there, peeking in the delivery room window trying to make sure it was a boy and that everyone was safe and sound. Immediately taking pictures and asking what we needed her to do so that we could bring him home in a couple days. Dad was working in eastern Kentucky on a 24 hour pulling job. He arrived that night at the hospital to see his first grandchild, just before midnight. He counted the toes and was amazed at the amount of hair he had, gave us both a kiss and headed back to Kentucky to finish up his job. No matter what the birth certificate said, Mom christened him "Dak" and my dad christened him "Bud".
The years rolled by as they tend to do. Mom passed away just 5 short years later, never meeting our "Little guy". Dad retired and went about his life of leisure. Keeping our future Army Man several days a week while Hubby and I worked. He would take him to the coffee shop in the mornings and fishing in the afternoons after his (My dad's) nap. Years continued to fly by and Hubby and I hit our 20 year mark. Dad and I had a talk about life during one of our many medical visits. He told me how when I got married, mom and he were worried. They didn't think I had the guts to stick out the hard years, learn how to loose an argument, and how to be a good wife and mother. Now, that may sound harsh to some of you, but trust me...he was right on the money. Up until I started dating hubby, I wasn't the most responsible of children and I was a tad bit spoiled. I liked having my fun and really pouted when I couldn't. Yeah, I had a job but didn't have bills. The money I earned went for play. Buying gas and beer for road trips were my "responsibilities". Hubby on the other hand knew all about bills and responsibilities and was much more mature than I was, good thing! Dad went on to tell me how proud he was of us both. Hubby was a good man and that I had turned out to be a damn good woman and that we had raised two fine young men. That made my day. He also asked if I ever regretted not completing college and what I wanted out of the rest of my life. I told him no, I didn't regret not finishing school and that I just wanted to live life and enjoy myself (yup, I still pout when I don't get to have my "fun"), watch my kids grow up and look forward to grand kids. Dad told me that while he was very proud of me and the life I lived, he always had hoped I would go back and finish up my schooling. I argued back that I had learned more in my 15 years at my current job than I ever would have learned in school (yes, even at 39 I still had to argue). He just shrugged and agreed that I had learned my job and did it well it seemed and he let the subject drop.
Little did I realize at the time how much I was still learning from my Dad. That day is the day I learned that no matter what I want for my children, they will and should live their own lives. Just because I envisioned myself attending Army Man's graduation from College with his Veterinarian Degree, that was not the same picture he has in his head for his future. Even though we do our best to encourage our children down what we "think" will be the right path, at some point you have to step back and let them travel on their own. They have to make their mistakes, fight their own battles, fall on their face and learn to stand on their own two feet. How else are they going to know when something is absolutely RIGHT in their life? Both of my boys have made choices that I didn't particularly care for at the time but turned out to be the right choice for them. I admire my oldest for having the courage to live life his way and am pretty sure our Little Guy has learned a lot from his big brother in that regard. They both have the stubbornness in them so that they will not be forced into a mold that doesn't fit.
To this day, when we get a different vehicle, I will take the time to learn where the jack goes, where the lug wrench and spare tire are hidden and how to take off the lug nut cover. But, I will say that when I do have a flat tire, I still call hubby because even though I know how, my little pea brain says "You have a husband, one adult male child and one almost adult male child. Changing a tire and cleaning a fish are two things you shouldn't ever have to do!"
Another little tidbit is that I have started looking at classes offered at local schools. While I have not yet made up my mind to "finish up my schooling" I have not totally ruled that option out. Even at 42 it's hard to decide what you want to be when you grow up, ;) Who knows? Maybe my Army Man and I will both graduate as he has decided school isn't such a bad idea afterall......
Happy Father's day to all of you "Dads" that are in my life. Each and every one of you guys rock and should ALL know that you really do make a tremendous impact on every life you touch! Thanks for being you!
Happy Father's Day in Heaven Dad...thank you so much for kicking me in the ass when I needed it. I am pretty sure I wouldn't be half of the woman I am w/out it! Love and miss you daily!
When I get home that night there is a note on the kitchen table for me. Basically my dad had ordered me an 8 am wake up and I would be at his shop in the morning, come hell or high water. When I arrived at the shop, I assumed that Dad was going to put the repaired tire on my car...man, was I deluded. I spent the next 5 hours learning how to replace a flat tire to his satisfaction. I learned how to properly and safely place and use the jack, how to remove the lug nuts and store them in the hub cap so that they wouldn't be lost. He showed me how to put the new tire on and how the lug nuts don't just get screwed on, there is a certain way they should be tightened. After about the third time I had replaced the tire, I started to whine just a bit. This was never a real good idea w/ my Dad and that day was totally the wrong day to do it. He asked me what kind of woman was I going to be? Was I going to be one of "those girls" who called a man to fix her problems all the time? Was I going to let a man handle everything in life? Or not??
At the time all I thought was "geesh, don't have a cow Dad!" But, even as a teenager, sometimes that odd lesson my parents were trying to teach me would actually sink in. I realized that Dad wasn't upset with me for calling him to repair a flat tire. I understood that he was upset w/ himself a bit for not teaching me beforehand how to handle a flat tire and upset with me for just flitting away and letting him handle the problem. I never again asked my Dad to just fix a problem. I had learned to ask him for help fixing my problems and learned a lot by his side like how to bait my own hook, remove my own fish, how to shoot both long guns and hand guns, and that sometimes 10 am is NOT to early for a cold beer! A keg needs tapped a certain way, just like lug nuts need tightened. Friends are there for you just as you are there for them, a hard days work never hurt anyone, helping someone out that needs it is never wrong, and that the best "Cure" for a hangover was pulling weeds in the garden so that all the alcohol would sweat out. (I still don't buy that one!)
I am pretty sure when my folks envisioned my future, they never imagined that I would be married at 19 and a mother at 20. When hubby and I decided to marry, they were shocked and really not sure it was such a great idea. What did Hubby and I know about being adults, having adult responsibilities, becoming parents, etc. Honestly, we didn't know shit about it, but we learned. When our oldest was born my mom was right there, peeking in the delivery room window trying to make sure it was a boy and that everyone was safe and sound. Immediately taking pictures and asking what we needed her to do so that we could bring him home in a couple days. Dad was working in eastern Kentucky on a 24 hour pulling job. He arrived that night at the hospital to see his first grandchild, just before midnight. He counted the toes and was amazed at the amount of hair he had, gave us both a kiss and headed back to Kentucky to finish up his job. No matter what the birth certificate said, Mom christened him "Dak" and my dad christened him "Bud".
The years rolled by as they tend to do. Mom passed away just 5 short years later, never meeting our "Little guy". Dad retired and went about his life of leisure. Keeping our future Army Man several days a week while Hubby and I worked. He would take him to the coffee shop in the mornings and fishing in the afternoons after his (My dad's) nap. Years continued to fly by and Hubby and I hit our 20 year mark. Dad and I had a talk about life during one of our many medical visits. He told me how when I got married, mom and he were worried. They didn't think I had the guts to stick out the hard years, learn how to loose an argument, and how to be a good wife and mother. Now, that may sound harsh to some of you, but trust me...he was right on the money. Up until I started dating hubby, I wasn't the most responsible of children and I was a tad bit spoiled. I liked having my fun and really pouted when I couldn't. Yeah, I had a job but didn't have bills. The money I earned went for play. Buying gas and beer for road trips were my "responsibilities". Hubby on the other hand knew all about bills and responsibilities and was much more mature than I was, good thing! Dad went on to tell me how proud he was of us both. Hubby was a good man and that I had turned out to be a damn good woman and that we had raised two fine young men. That made my day. He also asked if I ever regretted not completing college and what I wanted out of the rest of my life. I told him no, I didn't regret not finishing school and that I just wanted to live life and enjoy myself (yup, I still pout when I don't get to have my "fun"), watch my kids grow up and look forward to grand kids. Dad told me that while he was very proud of me and the life I lived, he always had hoped I would go back and finish up my schooling. I argued back that I had learned more in my 15 years at my current job than I ever would have learned in school (yes, even at 39 I still had to argue). He just shrugged and agreed that I had learned my job and did it well it seemed and he let the subject drop.
Little did I realize at the time how much I was still learning from my Dad. That day is the day I learned that no matter what I want for my children, they will and should live their own lives. Just because I envisioned myself attending Army Man's graduation from College with his Veterinarian Degree, that was not the same picture he has in his head for his future. Even though we do our best to encourage our children down what we "think" will be the right path, at some point you have to step back and let them travel on their own. They have to make their mistakes, fight their own battles, fall on their face and learn to stand on their own two feet. How else are they going to know when something is absolutely RIGHT in their life? Both of my boys have made choices that I didn't particularly care for at the time but turned out to be the right choice for them. I admire my oldest for having the courage to live life his way and am pretty sure our Little Guy has learned a lot from his big brother in that regard. They both have the stubbornness in them so that they will not be forced into a mold that doesn't fit.
To this day, when we get a different vehicle, I will take the time to learn where the jack goes, where the lug wrench and spare tire are hidden and how to take off the lug nut cover. But, I will say that when I do have a flat tire, I still call hubby because even though I know how, my little pea brain says "You have a husband, one adult male child and one almost adult male child. Changing a tire and cleaning a fish are two things you shouldn't ever have to do!"
Another little tidbit is that I have started looking at classes offered at local schools. While I have not yet made up my mind to "finish up my schooling" I have not totally ruled that option out. Even at 42 it's hard to decide what you want to be when you grow up, ;) Who knows? Maybe my Army Man and I will both graduate as he has decided school isn't such a bad idea afterall......
Happy Father's day to all of you "Dads" that are in my life. Each and every one of you guys rock and should ALL know that you really do make a tremendous impact on every life you touch! Thanks for being you!
Happy Father's Day in Heaven Dad...thank you so much for kicking me in the ass when I needed it. I am pretty sure I wouldn't be half of the woman I am w/out it! Love and miss you daily!
Monday, June 10, 2013
Sex in the country...part 2
When I started dating my mother sat me down and gave me the "talk". Back then, the big risk of "going all the way" was an unexpected pregnancy or a healthy crop of crabs. Sex was just starting to become lethal in the late 80's in rural America. Mom's talk consisted of "You are a gift. A gift given and a gift received. Make sure your gift means something." At the time I was soooo not wanting to have that conversation so I just mumbled something to make her go away or at the very least change the subject. Looking back I realize how very right she was. Thanks Mom! Those wise words were also followed up by the comment that if and when I decided to have sex, I should talk with her about birth control. EEEK!!!! My mind immediately flashed to the possible outcome of said conversation..... (that thought still makes me shudder!)
Flash forward 20 years and I am now the mom having the talk with my kids. We discuss the dangers of unprotected sex. Not only the unexpected pregnancy but how very dangerous it is to not use latex protection. I added on my own words of wisdom. "Every time you have sex with someone you are making the decision that this girl could be a part of your life, for the rest of your life. If she has a baby, make no mistake, she will be a part of your life, through that child, until the end of your days. Make sure you are willing to make that commitment." Not sure if my brand of wisdom really sunk in but I am pretty sure that the mortification I felt during my teen years has been successfully shared with the next generation.
So, to get back to the "story". After the dating process has gone on a while, eventually you come to the crossroads of taking that next step or breaking it off. Of course, you talk and giggle with your friends about doing "IT" or not. Discussions about how things actually happen goes on with your maybe slightly more experienced friends and the decision is made one way or the other. But...eventually you meet someone you want to take that ultimate step with. My lord...don't you just remember how mixed your emotions were? You really liked the guy but were scared. You really wanted to but really worried about the pain factor. Would it hurt? Would anyone know? Will I look different? Will I walk different? All those questions and a million more run through your head. You plan for your "big night" just like you did for the first date. What to wear? Where to go? Do I provide the protection or does he? Will Mom notice if I buy new underwear for the big night? Will she be able to look at me and just KNOW????? OMG!! What if DAD finds out???? And on and on and on.
The big night comes and goes with all the awkwardness we remember. Of course the next day you sheepishly leave home at the first opportunity to get together with the girls and talk it ALL through. Huh, how confusing was THAT? Everyone has their own story about their first time and everyone had their own reaction to the big deed. Reactions ranged from "OMG it HURT!" to "What's the big deal?" to "I can't wait to try it again!" And the questions "Do I look different?", "Am I walking funny?", "What did he look like naked?", etc. We worried endlessly that he would tell his friends (like you JUST did) and that EVERYONE would soon know. Then comes the terrifying moment when you actually see HIM again. Boy, the comfort level you thought you had with this special guy is totally gone on that first meeting following that night. It takes a little while to feel like you know him as well as you did prior to the deed. And, sadly, eventually your "first" probably goes by the way side like the other first date guys have done. You always remember him and that night, either fondly, with mild embarrassment or just plain horror.
Now, you are an experienced woman of the world, right? SNORT! You start this whole process over again with new guys, on new first dates. But it seemed like that crossroads was much easier to get to once you initially made that decision, didn't it? Guys were quicker to press the issue if they knew you were no longer a virgin. The dance that used to end w/ the deep sigh and "ok" were quicker to end in a "why not?!?" Which usually ended the relationship for me, to be honest. I didn't like being pressured then and to this day I still don't like people pressing me for something I don't want to do. :)
Now that you are older and wiser you start to notice a little more about the guys/men around you. You look at them differently than just deciding that they are "cute". And then, at some point, you discover "Chemistry"!
Ladies, do you remember the first time you actually felt "chemistry" with a guy? I do, and I remember that guy very fondly to this day. I was set up on a blind date by one of my best friends. Her brother's buddy was home from college (YES! A college guy!! How AWESOME was that??) and he thought I was cute and wanted to be set up with me.
That blind date was my first experience with instant attraction. We met up for dinner and a movie and ZING! That first eye contact sent all the hairs on my arms straight up and the butterfly's were just a fluttering in my belly. My first thought was that I was getting sick, to be honest. Tummy was rumbly, knees were a bit weak, a light sweat on my forehead. We head out for our dinner and as we get to know each other we realize that we have a lot in common. Similar sense of humor, liked the same stuff, etc. We hit it off at once, besides the whole instant attraction thing. It seems like steps 1-5 on the old comfort meter just zoom by and by the end of the dinner I am really having fun and ready for a movie. As we walk to his car to head to the movies, he held my hand. Damn, did lightning just strike my palm? WOW! We got to the movies and if that wasn't sweet torture I don't know what was. Sitting next to this guy who just seems to draw you like a magnet. I have to admit, I don't remember what movie we watched that night as I couldn't concentrate at all. After the movie we go for a drive before he takes me home. We talk a lot and not just the normal HS talking. Life, ambitions, etc. Really, as I look back, this date made me become more of an adult when it comes to the oppisite sex than any other. I realized that there was much more to men than cute or not, popular or not, and nice car or not. When he took me home I was, I have to admit, disappointed. I wasn't ready for the night to be over at all. Damn curfew! I popped in to say I was home and that we were going to sit on the dock for a while and talk, which we did, for hours! Dad finally comes out and tells him that it's REALLY time for me to come in and for him to GO HOME! We part ways with our first/last kiss and good-bye. He has to head back to school the next day so no future dates are planned. Through the next couple of weeks we talk on the phone a bit but never did go out again or see each other again. As life has went on I still occasionally meet those people that I instantly connect with. Some of these people I just meet once and most of the others have become some of my dearest friends.
After that memorable night, I didn't date for a long time. I wasn't heart broken or anything, I just learned that I wanted MORE from a guy than cute/popular. I wanted to find someone who I could talk with, laugh with, plan with, dream with, and who gave me the ZING! That really wasn't all that easy to find in our little small town. About half way through my Senior year, I met a guy who provided all that. And of course, being the stupid 17/18 year old that I was, it scared the shit outta me. I broke it off with him right before senior prom as I felt I wasn't ready for that type of serious relationship. All of his friends and mine were upset w/ me because they felt I had broken his heart. Little did they know that I was hurting just as much but wasn't going to admit that I had made a mistake. I spent the next 6 months partying it up and enjoying the just graduated HS freedom. College was just around the corner and I was excited and mostly having a blast as every 18 year old should. Then we bump into each other again and I decide I want him back. (Yeah, pretty shitty of me, huh?) I have to admit, he made me work pretty damn hard at winning him back. Right before I started classes at OCC we got together again. I am thrilled and happy to say that almost 24 years later, we are the parents of two wonderful kids and that we still talk, laugh, dream, and plan together.
When I originally started this topic, I had a whole other direction in mind about where I was going with it. My "topic" was going to be about being married, having kids, and what happens when it just doesn't work out. I wrote and wrote about how I think people should behave once a divorce happens. I was being a fairly judgemental bitch to be honest. While I do have thoughts about this topic, I am not sure I should throw them all out there. I have never been divorced so who am I to say? But, a few comments I am comfortable making are these: a) if you aren't happy in your marriage, end it if you can't work through the issues. Staying married "for the kids" just ain't a good plan. b) The kids should never be put in the middle or have to take second to what you want to do. c) You are a parent until the day you die. You can't divorce your kids. Live up to the commitment you made when you had the kids.
Anyway, that's my tale of Sex in the Country! Happy Monday Folks!
Flash forward 20 years and I am now the mom having the talk with my kids. We discuss the dangers of unprotected sex. Not only the unexpected pregnancy but how very dangerous it is to not use latex protection. I added on my own words of wisdom. "Every time you have sex with someone you are making the decision that this girl could be a part of your life, for the rest of your life. If she has a baby, make no mistake, she will be a part of your life, through that child, until the end of your days. Make sure you are willing to make that commitment." Not sure if my brand of wisdom really sunk in but I am pretty sure that the mortification I felt during my teen years has been successfully shared with the next generation.
So, to get back to the "story". After the dating process has gone on a while, eventually you come to the crossroads of taking that next step or breaking it off. Of course, you talk and giggle with your friends about doing "IT" or not. Discussions about how things actually happen goes on with your maybe slightly more experienced friends and the decision is made one way or the other. But...eventually you meet someone you want to take that ultimate step with. My lord...don't you just remember how mixed your emotions were? You really liked the guy but were scared. You really wanted to but really worried about the pain factor. Would it hurt? Would anyone know? Will I look different? Will I walk different? All those questions and a million more run through your head. You plan for your "big night" just like you did for the first date. What to wear? Where to go? Do I provide the protection or does he? Will Mom notice if I buy new underwear for the big night? Will she be able to look at me and just KNOW????? OMG!! What if DAD finds out???? And on and on and on.
The big night comes and goes with all the awkwardness we remember. Of course the next day you sheepishly leave home at the first opportunity to get together with the girls and talk it ALL through. Huh, how confusing was THAT? Everyone has their own story about their first time and everyone had their own reaction to the big deed. Reactions ranged from "OMG it HURT!" to "What's the big deal?" to "I can't wait to try it again!" And the questions "Do I look different?", "Am I walking funny?", "What did he look like naked?", etc. We worried endlessly that he would tell his friends (like you JUST did) and that EVERYONE would soon know. Then comes the terrifying moment when you actually see HIM again. Boy, the comfort level you thought you had with this special guy is totally gone on that first meeting following that night. It takes a little while to feel like you know him as well as you did prior to the deed. And, sadly, eventually your "first" probably goes by the way side like the other first date guys have done. You always remember him and that night, either fondly, with mild embarrassment or just plain horror.
Now, you are an experienced woman of the world, right? SNORT! You start this whole process over again with new guys, on new first dates. But it seemed like that crossroads was much easier to get to once you initially made that decision, didn't it? Guys were quicker to press the issue if they knew you were no longer a virgin. The dance that used to end w/ the deep sigh and "ok" were quicker to end in a "why not?!?" Which usually ended the relationship for me, to be honest. I didn't like being pressured then and to this day I still don't like people pressing me for something I don't want to do. :)
Now that you are older and wiser you start to notice a little more about the guys/men around you. You look at them differently than just deciding that they are "cute". And then, at some point, you discover "Chemistry"!
Ladies, do you remember the first time you actually felt "chemistry" with a guy? I do, and I remember that guy very fondly to this day. I was set up on a blind date by one of my best friends. Her brother's buddy was home from college (YES! A college guy!! How AWESOME was that??) and he thought I was cute and wanted to be set up with me.
That blind date was my first experience with instant attraction. We met up for dinner and a movie and ZING! That first eye contact sent all the hairs on my arms straight up and the butterfly's were just a fluttering in my belly. My first thought was that I was getting sick, to be honest. Tummy was rumbly, knees were a bit weak, a light sweat on my forehead. We head out for our dinner and as we get to know each other we realize that we have a lot in common. Similar sense of humor, liked the same stuff, etc. We hit it off at once, besides the whole instant attraction thing. It seems like steps 1-5 on the old comfort meter just zoom by and by the end of the dinner I am really having fun and ready for a movie. As we walk to his car to head to the movies, he held my hand. Damn, did lightning just strike my palm? WOW! We got to the movies and if that wasn't sweet torture I don't know what was. Sitting next to this guy who just seems to draw you like a magnet. I have to admit, I don't remember what movie we watched that night as I couldn't concentrate at all. After the movie we go for a drive before he takes me home. We talk a lot and not just the normal HS talking. Life, ambitions, etc. Really, as I look back, this date made me become more of an adult when it comes to the oppisite sex than any other. I realized that there was much more to men than cute or not, popular or not, and nice car or not. When he took me home I was, I have to admit, disappointed. I wasn't ready for the night to be over at all. Damn curfew! I popped in to say I was home and that we were going to sit on the dock for a while and talk, which we did, for hours! Dad finally comes out and tells him that it's REALLY time for me to come in and for him to GO HOME! We part ways with our first/last kiss and good-bye. He has to head back to school the next day so no future dates are planned. Through the next couple of weeks we talk on the phone a bit but never did go out again or see each other again. As life has went on I still occasionally meet those people that I instantly connect with. Some of these people I just meet once and most of the others have become some of my dearest friends.
After that memorable night, I didn't date for a long time. I wasn't heart broken or anything, I just learned that I wanted MORE from a guy than cute/popular. I wanted to find someone who I could talk with, laugh with, plan with, dream with, and who gave me the ZING! That really wasn't all that easy to find in our little small town. About half way through my Senior year, I met a guy who provided all that. And of course, being the stupid 17/18 year old that I was, it scared the shit outta me. I broke it off with him right before senior prom as I felt I wasn't ready for that type of serious relationship. All of his friends and mine were upset w/ me because they felt I had broken his heart. Little did they know that I was hurting just as much but wasn't going to admit that I had made a mistake. I spent the next 6 months partying it up and enjoying the just graduated HS freedom. College was just around the corner and I was excited and mostly having a blast as every 18 year old should. Then we bump into each other again and I decide I want him back. (Yeah, pretty shitty of me, huh?) I have to admit, he made me work pretty damn hard at winning him back. Right before I started classes at OCC we got together again. I am thrilled and happy to say that almost 24 years later, we are the parents of two wonderful kids and that we still talk, laugh, dream, and plan together.
When I originally started this topic, I had a whole other direction in mind about where I was going with it. My "topic" was going to be about being married, having kids, and what happens when it just doesn't work out. I wrote and wrote about how I think people should behave once a divorce happens. I was being a fairly judgemental bitch to be honest. While I do have thoughts about this topic, I am not sure I should throw them all out there. I have never been divorced so who am I to say? But, a few comments I am comfortable making are these: a) if you aren't happy in your marriage, end it if you can't work through the issues. Staying married "for the kids" just ain't a good plan. b) The kids should never be put in the middle or have to take second to what you want to do. c) You are a parent until the day you die. You can't divorce your kids. Live up to the commitment you made when you had the kids.
Anyway, that's my tale of Sex in the Country! Happy Monday Folks!
Sunday, May 26, 2013
Sex in the Country...part 1
Caught you attention, didn't I? Don't worry, this is not a guide or a blow by blow (no pun intended) description. This is just some maybe not so random thoughts that have been floating about in my oh so warped mind the past few months.
Remember back when you first started dating? When holding hands in public was kinda a big deal? Was it a problem if he didn't hold your hand? When the first date anticipation was all about what position you took in the car: Do I sit in "my" seat or do I sit in the middle? Do I let him kiss me or make him wait? You plan and giggle with your friends for days preparing for that important first. What outfit are you wearing, what color eye shadow? Part the hair on the left or right? Meet the folks or not? Hell, the anticipation alone made you just "know" that THIS guy could be the ONE! Low and behold, your first date consists of dinner at McDonald's, (during which you don't eat because then he might think you are a cow) and a movie that inevitably starred Molly Ringwald, Rob Lowe, Sean Penn, Cher, Madonna or Andrew McCarthy.
While I realize I may not be remembered fondly or even remembered, I do know that I remember the name of every first date I ever had as well as my first crush, kiss, grope, love, & broken heart received as well as given. I am speaking only from the girl perspective. I have no idea what went through the minds of the males that I happened to share the wonderfully awkward experience with. Even with raising one son almost to completion and one half-way, I still have no clue as to how the male mind works on that issue. But that may be a topic for another day.
So, the first date was a success. This leads to dates 2 thru who knows. As the relationship progresses so does the pressure. The first kiss worries turn to questions like: over the shirt? Under the shirt? Bra up or bra off? Shirt on or off? Over the pants? In the pants? And so on and so forth. (Not going for 51 shades here) Now, at this point I have a pretty good idea what all males were thinking. "Will tonight be THE night she doesn't stop me??" And my God ladies, didn't we make them work hard?? When your boyfriend would spend hours kissing you, nibbling on your ears and throat just on the off chance you wouldn't stop the fun but knowing instinctively that you would! The subtle shift of your arm to keep him out of your shirt. The adjustment of your hips so the snap to your pants couldn't be reached. Ohhh, the excitement of the well choreographed dance just to end the night with a deep sigh and "Okay, we will stop." You pop up and readjust your clothing that may be slightly rumbled while he shifts very uncomfortably in the seat all the way to drop you off at home.
I soo would NEVER go back to being a teenager but damn, wasn't that fun?
A few points I think about are:
#1 Ladies, when was the last time the man in your life spent HOURS trying to coax you into sex while remaining fully clothed?
#2 Men, when was the last time you spent hours just seducing your lady?
#3 When was the last time you giggled with anticipation about an upcoming date? Married or Single?
#4 If we put half the energy into maintaining our relationships as adults as we did trying to get laid as teenagers, wouldn't the world be a much nicer place?
To be continued........
Remember back when you first started dating? When holding hands in public was kinda a big deal? Was it a problem if he didn't hold your hand? When the first date anticipation was all about what position you took in the car: Do I sit in "my" seat or do I sit in the middle? Do I let him kiss me or make him wait? You plan and giggle with your friends for days preparing for that important first. What outfit are you wearing, what color eye shadow? Part the hair on the left or right? Meet the folks or not? Hell, the anticipation alone made you just "know" that THIS guy could be the ONE! Low and behold, your first date consists of dinner at McDonald's, (during which you don't eat because then he might think you are a cow) and a movie that inevitably starred Molly Ringwald, Rob Lowe, Sean Penn, Cher, Madonna or Andrew McCarthy.
While I realize I may not be remembered fondly or even remembered, I do know that I remember the name of every first date I ever had as well as my first crush, kiss, grope, love, & broken heart received as well as given. I am speaking only from the girl perspective. I have no idea what went through the minds of the males that I happened to share the wonderfully awkward experience with. Even with raising one son almost to completion and one half-way, I still have no clue as to how the male mind works on that issue. But that may be a topic for another day.
So, the first date was a success. This leads to dates 2 thru who knows. As the relationship progresses so does the pressure. The first kiss worries turn to questions like: over the shirt? Under the shirt? Bra up or bra off? Shirt on or off? Over the pants? In the pants? And so on and so forth. (Not going for 51 shades here) Now, at this point I have a pretty good idea what all males were thinking. "Will tonight be THE night she doesn't stop me??" And my God ladies, didn't we make them work hard?? When your boyfriend would spend hours kissing you, nibbling on your ears and throat just on the off chance you wouldn't stop the fun but knowing instinctively that you would! The subtle shift of your arm to keep him out of your shirt. The adjustment of your hips so the snap to your pants couldn't be reached. Ohhh, the excitement of the well choreographed dance just to end the night with a deep sigh and "Okay, we will stop." You pop up and readjust your clothing that may be slightly rumbled while he shifts very uncomfortably in the seat all the way to drop you off at home.
I soo would NEVER go back to being a teenager but damn, wasn't that fun?
A few points I think about are:
#1 Ladies, when was the last time the man in your life spent HOURS trying to coax you into sex while remaining fully clothed?
#2 Men, when was the last time you spent hours just seducing your lady?
#3 When was the last time you giggled with anticipation about an upcoming date? Married or Single?
#4 If we put half the energy into maintaining our relationships as adults as we did trying to get laid as teenagers, wouldn't the world be a much nicer place?
To be continued........
Tuesday, April 30, 2013
Dream Issues....
I have always been blessed (or cursed?) with very vivid dreams and I can always remember the details. I tell people about my dreams sometimes and occasionally I get the "hmmm, is she nuts?" look. I don't think I am really nuts, I think I have a very vivid imagination and that my subconscious releases some pent up creativity and stress as needed for my sanity.
When I was young and innocent my good dreams always centered around the things I found most fun, entertaining, guys that were "cute", and people who cared for me. My bad dreams ALWAYS consisted of snakes, spiders and Santa Clause trying to kill me. (I can thank my brother for the Santa dreams!) To this day 2 of the three are still a big phobias for me.
I lost my mom when I was 25 years old. At that point my dreams shifted a bit. My bad dreams still held the spiders, snakes and occasional holiday figure, but they also grew to include the fear of being right THERE but unable to help someone who needed it. Ain't hard to figure out some of my personality traits now, is it? While mom and I had a somewhat rocky relationship as I was growing up, by the time I married and had my first son, we had grown to understand each other a bit more and just at the time we were finally working toward becoming "friends" like my friends had talked about being with their mom, she passed away. I wonder what she would think of the woman I am now? My dreams of her tell me she is proud of me, the life I live and the children I am raising/have raised. Let's hope that is the case.
When Dad was first diagnosed with Lung Cancer, the doctors were not very optimistic. Well, he showed them who was boss. Eleven months after the initial diagnosis he was cancer free. We had about 13 months before he started having stomach aches which proceeded his pancreatic cancer diagnosis. I was floored by this. Hadn't we already beat the beast once? Why, Why, WHY??? It just didn't seem fair for him, or me, to be honest and possibly sound selfish, to have to go through this hell once again. But, what do ya do? You suck it up, and as an admirable woman named Patty says "You put on your big girl panties" and get to work. Dad worked his butt off until last November, when we lost him.
Anyway, my dad has been on my mind a lot the past couple weeks. Maybe because Spring is here and that was his favorite time of the year. I am mowing, mushroom hunting, fishing, and getting my flip flop tan line that he always chuckled about, just like every Spring. May is quickly approaching and for the last few years I would always take a week of vacation so that Dad and I could go catch Blue Gill and Crappie out at "Pete's". (I wonder if the owners would let me come fishing there?) But anyway, whatever the reason behind it, my memories were fresh, my heart is raw, and the pain of not having him had become almost intolerable.
Sorry, I am rambling a bit, bear with me, I am getting to the point.
While dad was having treatment I would have a recurring dream. In the dream my cell phone was an alarm and when Kid Rock's "All Summer Long" song came out, we would have to go fight the bad guys. During a nights dream we would go fight several times and win. But, the last "fight" of every dream always started out with that ever annoying "Kung Fu Fighting" song. (by the way, dad and I were characters from Kung Fu Panda in these dreams). When this particular alarm went off in the dream Dad (panda) would always tell me to stay here...he would take care of the bad guy and then the dream was over. I would wake from these dreams somewhat confused and usually a LOT upset. I felt like they were preparing me for what was to come and what I wasn't ready to face.
I was mowing the farm Monday and almost dumped the mower in the pond. After I saved myself and the mower from an untimely dip in the cold water, I started shaking and crying and had to stop the mower. I could just hear my dad telling me about paying attention and watching where I was going, as he had several times in the past. The funny thing is, dad usually dumped his mower into his pond at least once a year! I am not sure exactly what finally triggered the breakdown I shoulda had months ago, but boy, did I break down!
Last night my recurring dream returned, but with a twist. Dad and I were doing our bad guy fighting, just like always. When the final fight (still that stinking Kung Fu Fighting song) came up, Dad once again told me to stay put while he went to fight. The twist was, the dream didn't stop at that point like it had before. Last night, I waited at the curb and Dad came back to the car (always the Green Camero) and he was DAD, not panda. He opens the door up and tells me that the fight is over, that he is going to stay there and have a beer with mom and that I should get home to my family. He walks away with a wave and a smile and I go home to my family.
I woke up today with tears still falling but a much lighter heart. Pretty sure paying a counselor isn't going to be needed, at least for a while yet.
When I was young and innocent my good dreams always centered around the things I found most fun, entertaining, guys that were "cute", and people who cared for me. My bad dreams ALWAYS consisted of snakes, spiders and Santa Clause trying to kill me. (I can thank my brother for the Santa dreams!) To this day 2 of the three are still a big phobias for me.
I lost my mom when I was 25 years old. At that point my dreams shifted a bit. My bad dreams still held the spiders, snakes and occasional holiday figure, but they also grew to include the fear of being right THERE but unable to help someone who needed it. Ain't hard to figure out some of my personality traits now, is it? While mom and I had a somewhat rocky relationship as I was growing up, by the time I married and had my first son, we had grown to understand each other a bit more and just at the time we were finally working toward becoming "friends" like my friends had talked about being with their mom, she passed away. I wonder what she would think of the woman I am now? My dreams of her tell me she is proud of me, the life I live and the children I am raising/have raised. Let's hope that is the case.
When Dad was first diagnosed with Lung Cancer, the doctors were not very optimistic. Well, he showed them who was boss. Eleven months after the initial diagnosis he was cancer free. We had about 13 months before he started having stomach aches which proceeded his pancreatic cancer diagnosis. I was floored by this. Hadn't we already beat the beast once? Why, Why, WHY??? It just didn't seem fair for him, or me, to be honest and possibly sound selfish, to have to go through this hell once again. But, what do ya do? You suck it up, and as an admirable woman named Patty says "You put on your big girl panties" and get to work. Dad worked his butt off until last November, when we lost him.
Anyway, my dad has been on my mind a lot the past couple weeks. Maybe because Spring is here and that was his favorite time of the year. I am mowing, mushroom hunting, fishing, and getting my flip flop tan line that he always chuckled about, just like every Spring. May is quickly approaching and for the last few years I would always take a week of vacation so that Dad and I could go catch Blue Gill and Crappie out at "Pete's". (I wonder if the owners would let me come fishing there?) But anyway, whatever the reason behind it, my memories were fresh, my heart is raw, and the pain of not having him had become almost intolerable.
Sorry, I am rambling a bit, bear with me, I am getting to the point.
While dad was having treatment I would have a recurring dream. In the dream my cell phone was an alarm and when Kid Rock's "All Summer Long" song came out, we would have to go fight the bad guys. During a nights dream we would go fight several times and win. But, the last "fight" of every dream always started out with that ever annoying "Kung Fu Fighting" song. (by the way, dad and I were characters from Kung Fu Panda in these dreams). When this particular alarm went off in the dream Dad (panda) would always tell me to stay here...he would take care of the bad guy and then the dream was over. I would wake from these dreams somewhat confused and usually a LOT upset. I felt like they were preparing me for what was to come and what I wasn't ready to face.
I was mowing the farm Monday and almost dumped the mower in the pond. After I saved myself and the mower from an untimely dip in the cold water, I started shaking and crying and had to stop the mower. I could just hear my dad telling me about paying attention and watching where I was going, as he had several times in the past. The funny thing is, dad usually dumped his mower into his pond at least once a year! I am not sure exactly what finally triggered the breakdown I shoulda had months ago, but boy, did I break down!
Last night my recurring dream returned, but with a twist. Dad and I were doing our bad guy fighting, just like always. When the final fight (still that stinking Kung Fu Fighting song) came up, Dad once again told me to stay put while he went to fight. The twist was, the dream didn't stop at that point like it had before. Last night, I waited at the curb and Dad came back to the car (always the Green Camero) and he was DAD, not panda. He opens the door up and tells me that the fight is over, that he is going to stay there and have a beer with mom and that I should get home to my family. He walks away with a wave and a smile and I go home to my family.
I woke up today with tears still falling but a much lighter heart. Pretty sure paying a counselor isn't going to be needed, at least for a while yet.
Sunday, April 28, 2013
Road Trip!
Hubby and I have a rule that is supreme in our marriage: At least once a month we will have date night. No kids, no other couples, just us. The calendar is marked every January for the entire year and we both arrange our schedules by this one night a month. It is sacred and the only thing that ever interferes is sickness or a death in the family.
Last night was Date night. We started the night out with the typical conversation of "Where we goin?" After some discussion we ended up at the Muddy Saloon. We have been to the Muddy several times in the past to have a drink or three but have never ate there. We finally managed to get in there before the kitchen closed last night so we had dinner. If you haven't had the chance to eat there yet, I would put it on your list. Our waitress, Mallory, did a very good job. She was friendly, efficient, and kept my Lime-A-Rita glass full. As Phillip was driving he stuck w/ only one screwdriver. We are responsible like that! The band hadn't even set up yet, so the atmosphere was nice. Quiet enough we could chat but loud enough that the tables around us couldn't hear all of my comments which, as you can imagine, maybe got more ornery as the night went on.
We get our bill and Hubby tells Mallory to bring us a six pack of Lime-A-Ritas, a straw, a large GO cup w/ ice and a large GO cup of Soda. I must have had a confused look on my face because he says we are going road tripping. Now, I should tell you that my alcohol tolerance isn't what it used to be. I can drink Cherry Jack rum like it's water but if you get me started on the Lime or Strawberry rita's, I get plum goofy! Two of them and I am buzzed, at three or 4 I get the giggles and at 5 I start singing (which is not nearly as funny as you might think because I can't sing for shit!) At 8+ I am pretty useless. Anyway, at hubby's announcement of a road trip I had to giggle because a) I was half buzzed already and that just makes me giggle and b) all day I had been thinking that a road trip would be just the ticket for the night. Wahooo, adventure time!
A few things you should know before the adventure really gets started. Hubby and I know Southern Jasper County fairly well as we live there. We know the North Eastern part of JC because we have good friends that own property and/or live up that way. We don't know jack about Western or North Western Jasper county! This was truly going to be fun because we only knew 2 ways to even get to the Muddy. Another thing you should know is that you will hardly EVER get me turned around on my directions. I am a human compass. Hubby on the other hand gets very easily turned around in JC.
Sooo, we pull out of the parking lot and head west. We learn w/in 5 minutes that "Dead End" or "No Outlet" signs are not used in this part of the world. We are putting along this paved road and all of a sudden its a grass lane. So we do the three point turn and head back the other way. At the first cross road we turn left. We meander up this road for a while and hubby says "is that the Muddy on the right?" As I am on my 3rd 'rita for the night I giggle like a loon and inform him NOOO, that's Wheeler! He doesn't believe me until a half a mile later when we come up on the highway. "Huh" is his response to my continued laughter. We head east on the highway until we hit downtown Wheeler and take a left at the Muddy road and head north.
We drive around up in this area for a long time, just talking, laughing and occasionally listening to the ipod. Up and down, back and forth we travel. We think we are getting close to Gila. As neither one of us has ever actually been there, we decide to look for it. Suffice it to say we didn't find it (that we know of anyway). Although I do think we found the place that our son called "N*gg*r Hill" but I am not sure? Is there a lighted cross up there? At this point we are driving west and hubby says "we should be hitting Apple Shed road soon, shouldn't we?" I know, I am a bitch, but I had to laugh again. Nope...not even close!
About this time, I had to pee. Being prepared as always, I grab my napkins out of the door and hop out. WHOOPSIES! We are in the BIG truck! I totally missed hitting the running board and hit the wet grass. Down on my ass I went! I giggle, snort and stand back up, Hubby is doing the head shake and chuckle he does when I am in full on Suzi Mode. I make my way toward the back of the truck to take care of business. Man, I haven't done this in a while! I undo my shorts and grab the hitch to hang on to. My lord...was that shotgun explosion my knees popping?? It sure seems like a long way down to get into proper peeing position. Business gets taken care of and I stand back up quickly. Uhhh, maybe a bit TOO quickly...my head is spinning! I grab the tailgate to steady myself and look behind me. SHIT...headlights coming...I wobble back to my side of the truck and try to climb in. It woulda been easier if I had remembered to button my shorts again so they wouldn't fall down as I wobbled. Pull the shorts back up and BUTTON them and away we go. By the way, the headlights weren't actually headlights, it was a farm w/ pole lights...LMAO!
By this time my 6th rita is in my Go cup and we are having a blast. We continue our journey and hubby mentions that maybe this isn't the best area to be wondering around in as we don't know it and the water is out just about everywhere. (Remember, he isn't drinking anything but soda so he is, of course, the rational one). I suggest turning on the GPS so that we know where the river is. Hell, I thought it was a good plan! He then gently reminded me that the GPS would only show where the river is SUPPOSED to be, not where the flood waters actually WERE. Hrumph, he got me there, didn't he? It's his turn to laugh at me..which he does in a much nicer way than I do. It's probably a good thing I don't drive when I am drinking!
We make it back up to the highway. Now, while I am a human compass and always know which direction we are traveling, no matter how much I drink, my judgement of distances traveled ain't so hot. I figure we will come up close to the Bagota (sp?) road. Nope, we are still west of Lis. We cross back into "our" part of the county and travel some back roads for a while, ever so slowly going east and south toward home. We come up on buckgrove road and hubby asks me "Just how drunk are you?". I take a moment to contemplate the answer then it dawns on me...he is asking for a reason. You see, hubby knows that there is a very fine line w/ me between just drunk enough and way to drunk to actually participate in any planned activities. He also knows where that line is w/out asking as he has seen it crossed many many times. I think that must have been a gentle reminder of where I was in relation to the "Line". I take another sip or two, just out of oneryness and tell him I "GOOOOOOOOOD" ;-)
We make it home, another successful date night almost in the books. I have to admit, I look forward to our monthly night where we aren't Mom and Dad, co-workers, bosses, employees, or anything but just Hubby and Suzi. We have been married over 22 years now and still can make each other laugh, still find lots of things to talk about, and can still call each other a friend as well as a lover and spouse. While no marriage is perfect and every marriage takes work, I think we do pretty good. We have had our bumps, don't get me wrong. But I will say that once we instituted date night, roughly 7 years ago, our bumps and valleys have been fewer and farther between.
By the way, we were home from our adventure by 10:30 pm.....LOL! Yup, we are old! Happy Sunday folks. Take a moment to enjoy your friend/spouse/significant other for just who they are!
Last night was Date night. We started the night out with the typical conversation of "Where we goin?" After some discussion we ended up at the Muddy Saloon. We have been to the Muddy several times in the past to have a drink or three but have never ate there. We finally managed to get in there before the kitchen closed last night so we had dinner. If you haven't had the chance to eat there yet, I would put it on your list. Our waitress, Mallory, did a very good job. She was friendly, efficient, and kept my Lime-A-Rita glass full. As Phillip was driving he stuck w/ only one screwdriver. We are responsible like that! The band hadn't even set up yet, so the atmosphere was nice. Quiet enough we could chat but loud enough that the tables around us couldn't hear all of my comments which, as you can imagine, maybe got more ornery as the night went on.
We get our bill and Hubby tells Mallory to bring us a six pack of Lime-A-Ritas, a straw, a large GO cup w/ ice and a large GO cup of Soda. I must have had a confused look on my face because he says we are going road tripping. Now, I should tell you that my alcohol tolerance isn't what it used to be. I can drink Cherry Jack rum like it's water but if you get me started on the Lime or Strawberry rita's, I get plum goofy! Two of them and I am buzzed, at three or 4 I get the giggles and at 5 I start singing (which is not nearly as funny as you might think because I can't sing for shit!) At 8+ I am pretty useless. Anyway, at hubby's announcement of a road trip I had to giggle because a) I was half buzzed already and that just makes me giggle and b) all day I had been thinking that a road trip would be just the ticket for the night. Wahooo, adventure time!
A few things you should know before the adventure really gets started. Hubby and I know Southern Jasper County fairly well as we live there. We know the North Eastern part of JC because we have good friends that own property and/or live up that way. We don't know jack about Western or North Western Jasper county! This was truly going to be fun because we only knew 2 ways to even get to the Muddy. Another thing you should know is that you will hardly EVER get me turned around on my directions. I am a human compass. Hubby on the other hand gets very easily turned around in JC.
Sooo, we pull out of the parking lot and head west. We learn w/in 5 minutes that "Dead End" or "No Outlet" signs are not used in this part of the world. We are putting along this paved road and all of a sudden its a grass lane. So we do the three point turn and head back the other way. At the first cross road we turn left. We meander up this road for a while and hubby says "is that the Muddy on the right?" As I am on my 3rd 'rita for the night I giggle like a loon and inform him NOOO, that's Wheeler! He doesn't believe me until a half a mile later when we come up on the highway. "Huh" is his response to my continued laughter. We head east on the highway until we hit downtown Wheeler and take a left at the Muddy road and head north.
We drive around up in this area for a long time, just talking, laughing and occasionally listening to the ipod. Up and down, back and forth we travel. We think we are getting close to Gila. As neither one of us has ever actually been there, we decide to look for it. Suffice it to say we didn't find it (that we know of anyway). Although I do think we found the place that our son called "N*gg*r Hill" but I am not sure? Is there a lighted cross up there? At this point we are driving west and hubby says "we should be hitting Apple Shed road soon, shouldn't we?" I know, I am a bitch, but I had to laugh again. Nope...not even close!
About this time, I had to pee. Being prepared as always, I grab my napkins out of the door and hop out. WHOOPSIES! We are in the BIG truck! I totally missed hitting the running board and hit the wet grass. Down on my ass I went! I giggle, snort and stand back up, Hubby is doing the head shake and chuckle he does when I am in full on Suzi Mode. I make my way toward the back of the truck to take care of business. Man, I haven't done this in a while! I undo my shorts and grab the hitch to hang on to. My lord...was that shotgun explosion my knees popping?? It sure seems like a long way down to get into proper peeing position. Business gets taken care of and I stand back up quickly. Uhhh, maybe a bit TOO quickly...my head is spinning! I grab the tailgate to steady myself and look behind me. SHIT...headlights coming...I wobble back to my side of the truck and try to climb in. It woulda been easier if I had remembered to button my shorts again so they wouldn't fall down as I wobbled. Pull the shorts back up and BUTTON them and away we go. By the way, the headlights weren't actually headlights, it was a farm w/ pole lights...LMAO!
By this time my 6th rita is in my Go cup and we are having a blast. We continue our journey and hubby mentions that maybe this isn't the best area to be wondering around in as we don't know it and the water is out just about everywhere. (Remember, he isn't drinking anything but soda so he is, of course, the rational one). I suggest turning on the GPS so that we know where the river is. Hell, I thought it was a good plan! He then gently reminded me that the GPS would only show where the river is SUPPOSED to be, not where the flood waters actually WERE. Hrumph, he got me there, didn't he? It's his turn to laugh at me..which he does in a much nicer way than I do. It's probably a good thing I don't drive when I am drinking!
We make it back up to the highway. Now, while I am a human compass and always know which direction we are traveling, no matter how much I drink, my judgement of distances traveled ain't so hot. I figure we will come up close to the Bagota (sp?) road. Nope, we are still west of Lis. We cross back into "our" part of the county and travel some back roads for a while, ever so slowly going east and south toward home. We come up on buckgrove road and hubby asks me "Just how drunk are you?". I take a moment to contemplate the answer then it dawns on me...he is asking for a reason. You see, hubby knows that there is a very fine line w/ me between just drunk enough and way to drunk to actually participate in any planned activities. He also knows where that line is w/out asking as he has seen it crossed many many times. I think that must have been a gentle reminder of where I was in relation to the "Line". I take another sip or two, just out of oneryness and tell him I "GOOOOOOOOOD" ;-)
We make it home, another successful date night almost in the books. I have to admit, I look forward to our monthly night where we aren't Mom and Dad, co-workers, bosses, employees, or anything but just Hubby and Suzi. We have been married over 22 years now and still can make each other laugh, still find lots of things to talk about, and can still call each other a friend as well as a lover and spouse. While no marriage is perfect and every marriage takes work, I think we do pretty good. We have had our bumps, don't get me wrong. But I will say that once we instituted date night, roughly 7 years ago, our bumps and valleys have been fewer and farther between.
By the way, we were home from our adventure by 10:30 pm.....LOL! Yup, we are old! Happy Sunday folks. Take a moment to enjoy your friend/spouse/significant other for just who they are!
Friday, April 26, 2013
Wiener Troubles
We have been having some trouble with the wieners barking all night so a while ago I bought one anti-barking collar. Thor was the worst offender so he was the first one to get to wear it. After about two hours he had things figured out through trial and error on his part. The other two were very interested in the black box hanging around his neck. They also realized that if they went up to him and pulled on the box he would bark then yelp. They seemed to find this highly amusing. After one quiet night, we removed the collar and put it up. A few days later Dirk started in. We decided he was next as he took over Thorton's spot on the bark-O-meter. While he is the youngest, I have to admit he is the smartest. He usually figures things out pretty quick and has been the easiest to train. With the collar on (we only put it on at night when it's time for bed and then remove it first thing in the morning) he didn't bark once. In fact, he managed to get the collar off and had it hid in the living room behind a decorative kettle. We looked almost everywhere for it for a week but didn't have any luck. The past few nights Katie has been keeping us up all night barking at the rabbits in the yard. In a fit of sleepless frustration, I tore the house apart and finally found it. Dirk was watching the whole time, seeming to smile a cocky little dog grin at me. We put the collar on Katie last night and immediately Dirk starts barking and pouncing at her trying to get her riled up. He is such a shit stirrer. Katie, being the only female, is usually the BOSS. She has made it her job to keep the other two in line. If they break a rule she kicks their butt. If they are playing with a toy she wants, it's hers. And god forbid anyone of the dogs get wet! Katie really seems to have issues about other dogs being wet. So anyway...Dirk somehow knows that the collar + barking = a mild shock for Katie. Katie is walking around the house backward, shaking her whole body and trying to take the collar off and Dirk is doing everything in his power to get her to bark. Thor is hiding under a blanket because he remembers the collar. Everyone goes to bed except Katie. She comes in and gives me an eat shit look and goes over to Phillip to try to make him take it off. It doesn't work so she goes and sleeps on the sofa in a pouting fit. Now remember...so far, Thorton is the only one who has actually barked while wearing this collar so he is the only one that really knows what will happen when you do. Phillip's alarm goes off and the dogs line up at the door like good little wieners. Katie hadn't barked all night and we finally got a good nights sleep. Phillip stumbles to his coffee pot and lets the dogs out w/out thinking. Katie runs out the door and immediately spots a rabbit. Bark Bark Bark, silence. I look outside and see Katie sitting on the patio chair looking down at the other two. Thor has his head cocked in pity and Dirk is literally doing the doggie chuckle while rolling underneath her chair. Really, if you haven't been around wiener dogs, then you don't know this but they almost talk with their grumbles and chuckles. It's pretty cool how well they communicate w/ out barking. But, to continue the tale, Katie sees me at the door and with a very snotty attitude comes to me and grumbles at me while pawing my leg. I remove the collar so she can go play and chase the rabbits. She runs back out the door, happily barking and immediately rolls Dirk across the yard. For the next several minutes, Dirk is not allowed to stand up for more than 2 seconds as Katie would continually roll him across the wet, dew soaked grass. Thorton is back in the house watching this lesson take place from behind the patio door. He goes and gets his blanket and makes a little hut for himself (that's his way of coping) so that he can watch Dirk's discipline. It's time to come in so through the door they both run. Katie then realizes that Dirk is WET! OH NO, not in her house! The running and yipping laps start...through the kitchen, down the hall, around the utility room, back up the hall, through the living room, into our room. Dirk jumps into the bathtub to get away from her psycho stalking. Katie drags her bed to the bathroom to wait.... Moral of the story: make no mistake, a female will get even.
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
Nature vs. Nurture?
With the bombing in Boston this week it seems we are back on the viscous roller coaster of blame. It's the Internets fault, the bomb making instructions are right there. It's the guns fault not the one pulling the trigger. It's the pressure cookers fault, because you can just buy them on the shelf. It's the parents fault because they raised the terrorist. At what point to we just realize that the world is kinda fucked up and that monsters live among us.
Are monsters made or are they born? I personally think both. I saw a Facebook post that hit me wrong. While I actually like the person that posted this and have enjoyed their company when around them, I took issue with their opinion. Yes, I know...they are entitled to their opinion just the same as I am and I am not disputing this in anyway. What really bothered me is the possibility that many who are in that generation would agree with what was stated. True, new generation = new ideas..I totally get that and embrace that, usually. Maybe I am starting to show my age a bit, but some of the ideas I hear out of our future leaders scare me just a bit.
The post stated "if crazy, unstable people would just stop making babies then this world would be better. we wouldn't have to worry about guns and bombs being used for the wrong reasons. i just can't get over how worthless people are. so sad!"
The whole tone of the post bothered me on many levels. #1 being that "crazy, unstable" people shouldn't have kids. Aren't each and every one of us crazy or unstable in someones eyes? Who should assume the responsibility of deciding who can have kids and who can't? I personally have had my own battles w/ anxiety and depression. (as most adults have). Does that mean I shouldn't have had my kids? Does that mean my boys are more likely to go out and do something awful? I don't think so. Mental illness isn't always an excuse for a person's actions but on the other hand it isn't a tool that should be used against you either. Should I have been sterilized because I have had battles with my demons? Is that what things may come to? If so then all I can say is YIKES! If I follow the posters thinking then the world would be a better place without my children and call me crazy/unstable, I just don't believe that. If you are fortunate enough to know my children, than you know that all in all they make the world around them a better place, either by their honor, humor, dignity or innate kindness.
Number 2 that bothered me is the perpetual blame that is placed on parents. At what point does it stop being the parents fault? Yes, there are some sick and fucked up parents out there. And yes, some of the messed up parents have incredibly messed up kids. I agree totally with that assumption. On the other hand there are very good people whose children have become monsters. At what point does the "child" have to take responsibility for their own actions? I believe that most of us are born with the ability to know right from wrong. While our childhood may tarnish those ingrained instincts, they are still there and it is up to us what we choose to do, right or wrong. Every one of us has the capability of being a monster. Fortunately, 99% of us choose not to be one.
The whole nature vs nurture thing just doesn't sit well with me. Could you take a person that was born "good" and turn them into a monster? Yeah, you could. Can you take a person that was born "evil" and change them? Honestly, I don't know, but my gut says no.
The last thing that bothered me was the closing remark that said "i can't get over how worthless people are". That one made me snort. While there ARE worthless people in the world, again I tend to think that 99% of us are pretty good overall. When we watched the coverage of the Boston bombings, we saw people who were running toward the site to help. Same thing w/ the twin towers, pentagon, etc. Society as a whole is not comprised of worthless people. The cynicism really is upsetting to me coming from such a young person. Yes, our kids have been exposed to more senseless murder and terrorism than we ever were, but they have also seen an amazing number of unsung heroes who just do what they can to help.
Happy Wednesday folks!
Are monsters made or are they born? I personally think both. I saw a Facebook post that hit me wrong. While I actually like the person that posted this and have enjoyed their company when around them, I took issue with their opinion. Yes, I know...they are entitled to their opinion just the same as I am and I am not disputing this in anyway. What really bothered me is the possibility that many who are in that generation would agree with what was stated. True, new generation = new ideas..I totally get that and embrace that, usually. Maybe I am starting to show my age a bit, but some of the ideas I hear out of our future leaders scare me just a bit.
The post stated "if crazy, unstable people would just stop making babies then this world would be better. we wouldn't have to worry about guns and bombs being used for the wrong reasons. i just can't get over how worthless people are. so sad!"
The whole tone of the post bothered me on many levels. #1 being that "crazy, unstable" people shouldn't have kids. Aren't each and every one of us crazy or unstable in someones eyes? Who should assume the responsibility of deciding who can have kids and who can't? I personally have had my own battles w/ anxiety and depression. (as most adults have). Does that mean I shouldn't have had my kids? Does that mean my boys are more likely to go out and do something awful? I don't think so. Mental illness isn't always an excuse for a person's actions but on the other hand it isn't a tool that should be used against you either. Should I have been sterilized because I have had battles with my demons? Is that what things may come to? If so then all I can say is YIKES! If I follow the posters thinking then the world would be a better place without my children and call me crazy/unstable, I just don't believe that. If you are fortunate enough to know my children, than you know that all in all they make the world around them a better place, either by their honor, humor, dignity or innate kindness.
Number 2 that bothered me is the perpetual blame that is placed on parents. At what point does it stop being the parents fault? Yes, there are some sick and fucked up parents out there. And yes, some of the messed up parents have incredibly messed up kids. I agree totally with that assumption. On the other hand there are very good people whose children have become monsters. At what point does the "child" have to take responsibility for their own actions? I believe that most of us are born with the ability to know right from wrong. While our childhood may tarnish those ingrained instincts, they are still there and it is up to us what we choose to do, right or wrong. Every one of us has the capability of being a monster. Fortunately, 99% of us choose not to be one.
The whole nature vs nurture thing just doesn't sit well with me. Could you take a person that was born "good" and turn them into a monster? Yeah, you could. Can you take a person that was born "evil" and change them? Honestly, I don't know, but my gut says no.
The last thing that bothered me was the closing remark that said "i can't get over how worthless people are". That one made me snort. While there ARE worthless people in the world, again I tend to think that 99% of us are pretty good overall. When we watched the coverage of the Boston bombings, we saw people who were running toward the site to help. Same thing w/ the twin towers, pentagon, etc. Society as a whole is not comprised of worthless people. The cynicism really is upsetting to me coming from such a young person. Yes, our kids have been exposed to more senseless murder and terrorism than we ever were, but they have also seen an amazing number of unsung heroes who just do what they can to help.
Happy Wednesday folks!
Thursday, April 4, 2013
Underwear, schmunderwear
What ever happened to just going out and buying a 12 pack of underwear from walmart? You could pick from your favorite super hero, pretty pink butterflies, flowers or rainbows. Life was simple and underwear was easy! Shit, I know what happened...I grew up!
As Victoria's Secret was so kind as to send me a gift card for my birthday, I went underwear shopping. I will admit, I have always been a bikini style underwear buyer. Those just seem to work well for me, none of the dreaded crack crawlers, butt floss, or granny panties. When I walk in to VS I normally go straight to "my drawer" and grab what will match my bras. Yes, I am kinda anal about that...my panties must match my bras. Anyway, as my 42nd birthday rapidly approaches, my mind said.."hmmm, maybe you should try something else out?" Stupid mind...
So I browse. Brief's, boy cut, bikini, string bikini, cheeky, thongs, etc. Words on my ass or not? In glitter or just print? All lace? No lace? So MANY choices, how on earth can you choose? After deciding to be adventurous I grab some new styles and check out. I take my new pretty's home, wash them up and try them out...
Boy Cut? Hmmm, my first thought is that I must have them on backward. So I do the ole switcheroo. Nope, had them right the first time. UGH, really?? Not very comfy at all. The seam running up my crack doesn't feel very good at all and makes me rethink the thong briefly. After I wear them I decide that these were probably wasted money. My body just doesn't seem built right for this trend!
Cheeky? Uhhh, wow...not much left to imagine back there. If my ass was almost 22 instead of 42, these actually wouldn't be all bad and maybe even a new style for me. They were fairly comfy and considering how they looked, the whole crack crawl wasn't an issue. Better than the boy cut, but maybe I am a touch bit old for these? Can you be too old for an underwear style? What if I am in a car wreck and the nurses in the ER laugh at me?
Lace? Not too bad they fit just like regular bikini panties but are pretty much see through. I had decided that these are a NO due to my modesty issues. Then it dawns on me: " I don't parade around in just my undies! No one will see them except me, hubby and maybe the occasional Doctor or drinking buddy!" Yeah, these might work for "special" occasions (like when Hubby is gonna get lucky).
Imprinted w/ Words? While the fit isn't all bad, do I really need "Juicy" or "Hot" written on my ass? I think a plain old "Yes" or "No" would probably work just as good, if I am going to advertise on my undies. Again, my age factors into this as well as the horror of realizing my son may do a load of laundry and find my "Juicy" ass undies and that could scar him for life!
Thong...bahahahahahahaha! I have tried a thong several times...from the age of 20 up until my latest underwear adventure. I just don't get it. Maybe I should be more worried about a pantyline than I am. I just don't think having a string up my crack is all that beneficial. I think me digging at myself trying to make my bum more comfy is way less attractive than you being able to see my underwear line. Nope! Sorry Hubby, you will just have to like the thongs on TV!
Ahhh, my old friend...the classic Bikini style. Why did I ever consider anything else? Nice fit, good and comfy, they don't creep where they shouldn't, and they are as sexy as they need to be. They cover what I feel needs covered, you can't see through them, a nurse probably won't laugh at them, and they won't freak out a child who may do a load of laundry.
So my thought for the day is this... Is change necessary? Sometimes, but if it fits, it is comfy and works, why change? Do you have to try new things out to realize what you already have works the best? Maybe, but you should try new things judiciously and not throw out the old just because something shiny catches your eye. Because it could turn out to be a pain in your ass that you are stuck with because you threw out old reliable. Is dressing up what you know works sometimes a good idea? Of course it is! Duh!
Am I talking about my underwear or am I speaking life lessons? You decide. Happy Bikini Thursday folks!
As Victoria's Secret was so kind as to send me a gift card for my birthday, I went underwear shopping. I will admit, I have always been a bikini style underwear buyer. Those just seem to work well for me, none of the dreaded crack crawlers, butt floss, or granny panties. When I walk in to VS I normally go straight to "my drawer" and grab what will match my bras. Yes, I am kinda anal about that...my panties must match my bras. Anyway, as my 42nd birthday rapidly approaches, my mind said.."hmmm, maybe you should try something else out?" Stupid mind...
So I browse. Brief's, boy cut, bikini, string bikini, cheeky, thongs, etc. Words on my ass or not? In glitter or just print? All lace? No lace? So MANY choices, how on earth can you choose? After deciding to be adventurous I grab some new styles and check out. I take my new pretty's home, wash them up and try them out...
Boy Cut? Hmmm, my first thought is that I must have them on backward. So I do the ole switcheroo. Nope, had them right the first time. UGH, really?? Not very comfy at all. The seam running up my crack doesn't feel very good at all and makes me rethink the thong briefly. After I wear them I decide that these were probably wasted money. My body just doesn't seem built right for this trend!
Cheeky? Uhhh, wow...not much left to imagine back there. If my ass was almost 22 instead of 42, these actually wouldn't be all bad and maybe even a new style for me. They were fairly comfy and considering how they looked, the whole crack crawl wasn't an issue. Better than the boy cut, but maybe I am a touch bit old for these? Can you be too old for an underwear style? What if I am in a car wreck and the nurses in the ER laugh at me?
Lace? Not too bad they fit just like regular bikini panties but are pretty much see through. I had decided that these are a NO due to my modesty issues. Then it dawns on me: " I don't parade around in just my undies! No one will see them except me, hubby and maybe the occasional Doctor or drinking buddy!" Yeah, these might work for "special" occasions (like when Hubby is gonna get lucky).
Imprinted w/ Words? While the fit isn't all bad, do I really need "Juicy" or "Hot" written on my ass? I think a plain old "Yes" or "No" would probably work just as good, if I am going to advertise on my undies. Again, my age factors into this as well as the horror of realizing my son may do a load of laundry and find my "Juicy" ass undies and that could scar him for life!
Thong...bahahahahahahaha! I have tried a thong several times...from the age of 20 up until my latest underwear adventure. I just don't get it. Maybe I should be more worried about a pantyline than I am. I just don't think having a string up my crack is all that beneficial. I think me digging at myself trying to make my bum more comfy is way less attractive than you being able to see my underwear line. Nope! Sorry Hubby, you will just have to like the thongs on TV!
Ahhh, my old friend...the classic Bikini style. Why did I ever consider anything else? Nice fit, good and comfy, they don't creep where they shouldn't, and they are as sexy as they need to be. They cover what I feel needs covered, you can't see through them, a nurse probably won't laugh at them, and they won't freak out a child who may do a load of laundry.
So my thought for the day is this... Is change necessary? Sometimes, but if it fits, it is comfy and works, why change? Do you have to try new things out to realize what you already have works the best? Maybe, but you should try new things judiciously and not throw out the old just because something shiny catches your eye. Because it could turn out to be a pain in your ass that you are stuck with because you threw out old reliable. Is dressing up what you know works sometimes a good idea? Of course it is! Duh!
Am I talking about my underwear or am I speaking life lessons? You decide. Happy Bikini Thursday folks!
Wednesday, April 3, 2013
The chick in the hat(s).......
Another day filled with hats. Not the ones that continually cover up my bad hair days, but the metaphorical hats we all wear everyday. Have you ever really thought about all the different hats you wear on a daily basis? For some reason, this has been on my mind a lot the past few days. Here are just a few "hats" from my life:
The MOM hat...you put it on when you give birth and you NEVER take it off. That is just the way it is. Whether you are praising your children, giving them the hell they may need, encouraging them in their endeavors, cautioning them against jumping off a bridge w/out looking, applying a band-aid to the butt crack burn from launching bottle rockets from said area, or teaching the little shits how to keep the truck out of the ditch (or how to get it OUT of the ditch). It becomes a permanent fixture, just like your eye color. You couldn't pry the mom hat off of me no matter what. It is also the most gratifying hat I have.
The WIFE hat...while this hat is not a permanent fixture for some, it is for me. My husband is my best friend. He has seen the good, bad, crazy, and hormonal Suzi and still keeps on walking with me. Whether we are bitching about bills, going on a date night, working side by side, arguing over political issues, holding hands as we fall asleep, flirting and fighting, laughing and playing, he is why I do what I do. I will admit that this hat is sometimes paired up with a "BITCHY" hat, an "OMG!!" hat, a "REALLY?" hat or a many other variations of the same. This hat is what keeps my head on straight and keeps me going in the right way on a day by day basis and I am grateful for it.
The FRIEND hat...this one is also firmly in place. My friends are my family. We laugh, cry, stumble, argue, commiserate, drink and hold each other up when needed. I try to be whatever I need to be to fulfill my friend duty. We grow and change and our friends grow and change, but I would like to think that a friend is always there. Please, don't ever confuse a "friend" with a "casual friend" or with an "acquaintance". Those are not the same in my book. If I hug you, if I tell you my problems, if you have seen me cry more than once, if I reach out for you when I am hurting or scared, if I ask you for your help in my darkest times, if I expose all the bad parts of me knowing that you won't care one way or the other, then you are a friend. Good or bad, you are stuck with me.
The SISTER hat...I feel that I need to rotate this one up towards the top more than I do. My brother is pretty awesome and he really watches out for his little sister. He has no idea of how much I value him as my brother and respect him for the man he is. I often wonder if he knows that he can turn to me for help whenever he needs it? I sure hope so....more and more everyday....
The WORK hat...Believe it or not, I do have a professional side, but it's kinda hard for me to maintain this persona away from my job or for extended periods of time. It is probably best that I work in an office by myself over half the time. This hat is the most easily removed, although it never makes it onto a hat rack. It's usually on the bar or bathroom vanity ready to be put back on at any moment.
The HELPER hat...is sometimes the most difficult and heart breaking to wear but is also one of the easiest to take off and put back on, which we all do several times a day. Even if we don't realize it. While we may not all show this "hat" to those around us, when it is not on our head, most of us have it in our hand ready to whip it back where it belongs.
When I stop and think about all the different Hats I wear everyday, sometimes it freaks me out. And really, those listed above don't come close to touching each role we all play daily. I like to think I am pretty good at putting all of these on and that I wear them comfortably. Some days, I will admit, one or two of the above hats may not get all they deserve but I do my best. During my dad's final days, all these hats got mighty heavy and to be honest, sometimes pretty awkward to balance. There were times that I just didn't think I could take one more step with so many on my head. But when I tried to take one or two of them off so I could just have a "Suzi" moment I realized something. Everyone of these hats make me who I am.
I believe that I am a better person because I have so many hats to wear. I am usually a good mom. My kids know they can lean on me whenever they need to and that I am there for them. I am a good wife. Although some might consider me a handful, I don't think Phillip would trade me in, at least not 5 days out of 7. All the rest of the hats I have fulfill something in me that I need and hopefully give those around me something they need in their lives. And really...who couldn't use a little more Suzi in their lives?? Anyway, that is my introspective peek at myself for today...Have a happy Wednesday.
The MOM hat...you put it on when you give birth and you NEVER take it off. That is just the way it is. Whether you are praising your children, giving them the hell they may need, encouraging them in their endeavors, cautioning them against jumping off a bridge w/out looking, applying a band-aid to the butt crack burn from launching bottle rockets from said area, or teaching the little shits how to keep the truck out of the ditch (or how to get it OUT of the ditch). It becomes a permanent fixture, just like your eye color. You couldn't pry the mom hat off of me no matter what. It is also the most gratifying hat I have.
The WIFE hat...while this hat is not a permanent fixture for some, it is for me. My husband is my best friend. He has seen the good, bad, crazy, and hormonal Suzi and still keeps on walking with me. Whether we are bitching about bills, going on a date night, working side by side, arguing over political issues, holding hands as we fall asleep, flirting and fighting, laughing and playing, he is why I do what I do. I will admit that this hat is sometimes paired up with a "BITCHY" hat, an "OMG!!" hat, a "REALLY?" hat or a many other variations of the same. This hat is what keeps my head on straight and keeps me going in the right way on a day by day basis and I am grateful for it.
The FRIEND hat...this one is also firmly in place. My friends are my family. We laugh, cry, stumble, argue, commiserate, drink and hold each other up when needed. I try to be whatever I need to be to fulfill my friend duty. We grow and change and our friends grow and change, but I would like to think that a friend is always there. Please, don't ever confuse a "friend" with a "casual friend" or with an "acquaintance". Those are not the same in my book. If I hug you, if I tell you my problems, if you have seen me cry more than once, if I reach out for you when I am hurting or scared, if I ask you for your help in my darkest times, if I expose all the bad parts of me knowing that you won't care one way or the other, then you are a friend. Good or bad, you are stuck with me.
The SISTER hat...I feel that I need to rotate this one up towards the top more than I do. My brother is pretty awesome and he really watches out for his little sister. He has no idea of how much I value him as my brother and respect him for the man he is. I often wonder if he knows that he can turn to me for help whenever he needs it? I sure hope so....more and more everyday....
The WORK hat...Believe it or not, I do have a professional side, but it's kinda hard for me to maintain this persona away from my job or for extended periods of time. It is probably best that I work in an office by myself over half the time. This hat is the most easily removed, although it never makes it onto a hat rack. It's usually on the bar or bathroom vanity ready to be put back on at any moment.
The HELPER hat...is sometimes the most difficult and heart breaking to wear but is also one of the easiest to take off and put back on, which we all do several times a day. Even if we don't realize it. While we may not all show this "hat" to those around us, when it is not on our head, most of us have it in our hand ready to whip it back where it belongs.
When I stop and think about all the different Hats I wear everyday, sometimes it freaks me out. And really, those listed above don't come close to touching each role we all play daily. I like to think I am pretty good at putting all of these on and that I wear them comfortably. Some days, I will admit, one or two of the above hats may not get all they deserve but I do my best. During my dad's final days, all these hats got mighty heavy and to be honest, sometimes pretty awkward to balance. There were times that I just didn't think I could take one more step with so many on my head. But when I tried to take one or two of them off so I could just have a "Suzi" moment I realized something. Everyone of these hats make me who I am.
I believe that I am a better person because I have so many hats to wear. I am usually a good mom. My kids know they can lean on me whenever they need to and that I am there for them. I am a good wife. Although some might consider me a handful, I don't think Phillip would trade me in, at least not 5 days out of 7. All the rest of the hats I have fulfill something in me that I need and hopefully give those around me something they need in their lives. And really...who couldn't use a little more Suzi in their lives?? Anyway, that is my introspective peek at myself for today...Have a happy Wednesday.
Tuesday, March 26, 2013
Controversy.....
Hopefully, you have read this blog from beginning to end and that your readings have included my very first post (content warning)......if not STOP right now and go back to the beginning and start over. This post will fall into the "opinionated" category very easily. The controversy of same sex marriage is really a hot topic. So, of course I am going to chime in with my 50 cents worth.
I am not real liberal and I tend to lean more to the Republican side of the aisle when it comes to most political issues. Do I support Obama and think he is doing a good job as our president? No, I don't. I think he is failing miserably. Am I in favor of gun control? HELL no! Do I understand the 2nd amendment? Your damn right I do. Yes, I am a member of the NRA and also a pretty crack shot with both long guns and hand guns, (thanks Daddy). Do I support the death penalty for rapist, molesters and murderers? Oh yeah, I surely do. Lock em up and light em up. Do I think Pot should be legalized and taxed? Yes, I do. (Not many children of the 70's and 80's would be against this one). Illegal immigrants? Pack em up and send them home. ProLife or ProChoice? Even I am smart enough not to tackle that one. Even with my feelings on the above issues, there is one topic that I am fairly liberal on and that is the subject of same sex marriage.
I love my husband, so we were married. Would my feelings be any different if I had fallen in love with another woman? No, they wouldn't, I just wouldn't have to put the seat down to pee. Would I still be someone you enjoy being around? I don't see why not, I am who I am, who I sleep with wouldn't change my basic personality. Would my ability to be a productive member of the work force change because of who I share my life with? No, it wouldn't. Would my ability to serve in the military be any different because of my sexual preference? No, it wouldn't. Should same sex couples be allowed to adopt? Hell yes! Should they be allowed to get married? Again, Yes! Sexual orientation isn't something we can or should try to legislate. Man + Woman = Family isn't the only option, nor should it be the only recognized union.
I am a firm believer in equal rights. I believe a woman doing the same job as a man should receive the same pay. I believe the color of my skin should have no bearing at all on my ability to attend church, go to college, or join the work force. And when I say "equal" rights, that is exactly what I mean. I expect fair treatment of all. We should demand that all American Citizens are treated equally and fairly. Ethnicity shouldn't be an issue. Sexuality shouldn't be an issue. Gender shouldn't be an issue. My physical limitations shouldn't be an issue. My proven skills and future abilities should be the only issues under consideration when someone decides where I should be and what I can/can't do. On the other hand, I get really sick of groups that demand more for themselves than what my family or I am able to get. Equal rights to me means you get to enjoy all the so called "perks" as well as deal with all the shit everyone else has to deal with. Don't you DARE ask me for special consideration because you fall into a so called minority. Deal with it, just like we all do.
I am not going to get into all the biblical implications of same sex marriage. Separation of Church and State folks! It's in there for a reason. The whole argument is the legalization of same sex marriage, not the religious implications. Honestly, doesn't our government have enough troubles to worry about than who is married to whom? I would much rather see our government tackling the economy, illegal immigration, elder care, welfare reform, etc. This whole thing is just such a waste of time, energy and resources. Let people marry whomever they choose. If Suzi chooses Hubby to marry, fine. If Jill chooses to marry Jane, fine. If Jack wants to marry William, so be it. How on earth does it effect the neighbors? What harm does it really cause?
I realize not everyone will agree with my opinions on same sex marriage or equal rights, and I don't ask you to. It is my God given ability to have an opinion, the same as you. The world would be awful boring if we all agreed on everything. I could go on and on about this but I think my views are pretty clear: Same sex marriage isn't an issue that politicians and judges should be involved in.
Happy Tense Tuesday folks!
I am not real liberal and I tend to lean more to the Republican side of the aisle when it comes to most political issues. Do I support Obama and think he is doing a good job as our president? No, I don't. I think he is failing miserably. Am I in favor of gun control? HELL no! Do I understand the 2nd amendment? Your damn right I do. Yes, I am a member of the NRA and also a pretty crack shot with both long guns and hand guns, (thanks Daddy). Do I support the death penalty for rapist, molesters and murderers? Oh yeah, I surely do. Lock em up and light em up. Do I think Pot should be legalized and taxed? Yes, I do. (Not many children of the 70's and 80's would be against this one). Illegal immigrants? Pack em up and send them home. ProLife or ProChoice? Even I am smart enough not to tackle that one. Even with my feelings on the above issues, there is one topic that I am fairly liberal on and that is the subject of same sex marriage.
I love my husband, so we were married. Would my feelings be any different if I had fallen in love with another woman? No, they wouldn't, I just wouldn't have to put the seat down to pee. Would I still be someone you enjoy being around? I don't see why not, I am who I am, who I sleep with wouldn't change my basic personality. Would my ability to be a productive member of the work force change because of who I share my life with? No, it wouldn't. Would my ability to serve in the military be any different because of my sexual preference? No, it wouldn't. Should same sex couples be allowed to adopt? Hell yes! Should they be allowed to get married? Again, Yes! Sexual orientation isn't something we can or should try to legislate. Man + Woman = Family isn't the only option, nor should it be the only recognized union.
I am a firm believer in equal rights. I believe a woman doing the same job as a man should receive the same pay. I believe the color of my skin should have no bearing at all on my ability to attend church, go to college, or join the work force. And when I say "equal" rights, that is exactly what I mean. I expect fair treatment of all. We should demand that all American Citizens are treated equally and fairly. Ethnicity shouldn't be an issue. Sexuality shouldn't be an issue. Gender shouldn't be an issue. My physical limitations shouldn't be an issue. My proven skills and future abilities should be the only issues under consideration when someone decides where I should be and what I can/can't do. On the other hand, I get really sick of groups that demand more for themselves than what my family or I am able to get. Equal rights to me means you get to enjoy all the so called "perks" as well as deal with all the shit everyone else has to deal with. Don't you DARE ask me for special consideration because you fall into a so called minority. Deal with it, just like we all do.
I am not going to get into all the biblical implications of same sex marriage. Separation of Church and State folks! It's in there for a reason. The whole argument is the legalization of same sex marriage, not the religious implications. Honestly, doesn't our government have enough troubles to worry about than who is married to whom? I would much rather see our government tackling the economy, illegal immigration, elder care, welfare reform, etc. This whole thing is just such a waste of time, energy and resources. Let people marry whomever they choose. If Suzi chooses Hubby to marry, fine. If Jill chooses to marry Jane, fine. If Jack wants to marry William, so be it. How on earth does it effect the neighbors? What harm does it really cause?
I realize not everyone will agree with my opinions on same sex marriage or equal rights, and I don't ask you to. It is my God given ability to have an opinion, the same as you. The world would be awful boring if we all agreed on everything. I could go on and on about this but I think my views are pretty clear: Same sex marriage isn't an issue that politicians and judges should be involved in.
Happy Tense Tuesday folks!
Monday, March 25, 2013
Lent..a season of sacrifice or a season of Giving?
The last several years, being the good little Catholic girl that I am, instead of giving up a favorite food or drink I have tried to give up certain middle finger actions or verbalization of certain words. Last year during Lent I gave up swear words all together. When I slipped I had to put a quarter into my "swear bag". As my plight was kinda public on Facebook, several people would catch me and tell me to drop a quarter in as well. At the end of Lent, the money in the swear bag was donated to a charity of my choosing. Suffice it to say that last year's donation was fairly large between the snakes being out due to an early Spring and numerous other issues. But, one thing I am proud to say is that my use of the F-bomb dropped dramatically...I substituted the word "biscuit" every time I wanted to use the F word. So those of you who hear me say "biscuit" when I am not ordering breakfast now know what I really want to say.
This year, instead of being so wide open, I narrowed down my sacrifice to one word, it being the swear word for POOP. (It starts with a S, just in case you are wondering). I did this thinking maybe it wouldn't cost me as much. Yes, I know...it shouldn't be about the money, but let's be realistic. Last years $167 donation stung just a bit.
With Little Man learning how to drive I have to admit, I say the bad Poop word A LOT while instructing/hanging on for dear life! Sometimes I say it several times in a row, "Poop...Poop, man you gotta STOP...Poop Poop Poop....BRAKE!!!" and when the vehicle finally comes to a stop I say "Damnit, I just about "pooped" my pants!" The driving lessons, working on a farm that produces "poop" in large quantities and the darn wiener dogs who like to poop on the sidewalk all have helped the "poop bag" reach a fairly heavy weight.
Does it really count if you are saying "shit" in reference to actual shit as opposed to saying "Oh Poop, I dropped my beer"?
Anyway, realizing that Easter is just around the corner, I counted up my quarters last weekend. Depending on my behavior the rest of the week, I looks like the Autism Speaks Foundation will be gaining roughly a $210 (plus 50 cents for this post alone) donation from the old "poop bag". At least some good comes from my potty mouth!
Happy Monday Folks!
This year, instead of being so wide open, I narrowed down my sacrifice to one word, it being the swear word for POOP. (It starts with a S, just in case you are wondering). I did this thinking maybe it wouldn't cost me as much. Yes, I know...it shouldn't be about the money, but let's be realistic. Last years $167 donation stung just a bit.
With Little Man learning how to drive I have to admit, I say the bad Poop word A LOT while instructing/hanging on for dear life! Sometimes I say it several times in a row, "Poop...Poop, man you gotta STOP...Poop Poop Poop....BRAKE!!!" and when the vehicle finally comes to a stop I say "Damnit, I just about "pooped" my pants!" The driving lessons, working on a farm that produces "poop" in large quantities and the darn wiener dogs who like to poop on the sidewalk all have helped the "poop bag" reach a fairly heavy weight.
Does it really count if you are saying "shit" in reference to actual shit as opposed to saying "Oh Poop, I dropped my beer"?
Anyway, realizing that Easter is just around the corner, I counted up my quarters last weekend. Depending on my behavior the rest of the week, I looks like the Autism Speaks Foundation will be gaining roughly a $210 (plus 50 cents for this post alone) donation from the old "poop bag". At least some good comes from my potty mouth!
Happy Monday Folks!
Friday, March 22, 2013
Simple Pleasures
Today has been a good day. I spent most of the morning behind a steering wheel with my favorite music just blasting away. This is one of my favorite ways to spend alone time, just driving and listening. It relaxes me and lets my mind wander where I sometimes don't allow it to go. Yeah, that's a scary trip, right... ;)
As I drive here, there and yonder, my mind wanders to a recent conversation I had with my son, Army man. He moved out of our house roughly a year ago. He has worked his ass off to stand on his own two feet. While we may send some left-over Sunday dinner home with him, he hasn't asked us for anything. Shortly after he moved out, he realized very quickly how many things he took for granted living with us. Internet access...cable TV...food just appearing in the fridge, etc. I felt bad for him, going w/out these luxuries at first. I was all set to go get his cable turned on, the 'net going for him and to fill his fridge with food. Hubby said "no...if he needs something, he will ask. Let him be, he has to learn and he WILL learn if YOU just let him." I was kinda upset about that...ok, I was full blown pissed off at the time. But low and behold, Hubby was absolutely right. Army man called me this week, sounding like a little kid on Christmas morning. He had finally got up on his feet enough to afford Dish Network on his own! He was no longer forced to watch the same DVD's time and time again. Is it silly that something like this makes me swell up with pride? Well, if it does, then I am silly. Army man learned a lot this past year, but I think he should know this: I learned more than he did and that Hubby and I are pretty damn proud of him, even when there is only room in his fridge for tuna because the shelves are stacked so full of beer.
While doing my errands, work called so a Wal-Mart stop was added to the list. I park the car and head in. As I cross the parking lot, an old classmate hollers at me and crosses over to shake my hand. Seeing this man makes me smile because he always has a huge grin and a kind word for others. When we were in school, he was sometimes picked on because of his challenges. This didn't happen much after people realized how many would stand in front of him to prevent this. When Keith approached us in Wal-Mart when my boys were still very young, they would ask "who was that and how does he know you?". We would explain how we knew Keith and what his challenges were growing up. Nowadays when my Little Guy goes with me to the store, he will always take a moment to speak with Keith and ask him how his beloved Bears are doing. Yup, sometimes I think I may be doing this whole Mom thing OK after all! Keith and I spend some time catching up and off he goes to do his work. I go about my shopping with a smile staying (mostly) on my face. Keith will just do that for you. Next time you are in Olney Wal-Mart and see a cart pusher wearing his Bear's coat, take a moment and say "Hi!" you won't regret it for a single second!
When I headed toward home I decided to drop by and see a wonderful baby girl who is celebrating her 6 month birthday today. I smile every time I think about her being able to be home, with her mommy, daddy, and all the family and friends that love them all. I knock on the door and wait, glancing around at the home these two young parents have made for themselves and again, I am forced to smile. You see, the daddy of this baby girl holds a special place in my heart and always will. Therefore, by extension, his wife and daughter are also in that spot with him. After waiting a few minutes I realize that they must be off celebrating the half birthday or whatever else may be on a busy young mom's schedule. I leave and head home still smiling and saying a word of thanks to the man upstairs for making sure this wonderful girl is home with her family, where she belongs.
So, I guess my theme for today is this: Stop, look around you, realize that what you have is special, no matter if it is cable TV and Beer, a kind word and a big smile, or that you can go home and hold your children close and give them a hug. These are the things that are important...the things you really CAN'T put a price tag on. Happy Friday Folks!
As I drive here, there and yonder, my mind wanders to a recent conversation I had with my son, Army man. He moved out of our house roughly a year ago. He has worked his ass off to stand on his own two feet. While we may send some left-over Sunday dinner home with him, he hasn't asked us for anything. Shortly after he moved out, he realized very quickly how many things he took for granted living with us. Internet access...cable TV...food just appearing in the fridge, etc. I felt bad for him, going w/out these luxuries at first. I was all set to go get his cable turned on, the 'net going for him and to fill his fridge with food. Hubby said "no...if he needs something, he will ask. Let him be, he has to learn and he WILL learn if YOU just let him." I was kinda upset about that...ok, I was full blown pissed off at the time. But low and behold, Hubby was absolutely right. Army man called me this week, sounding like a little kid on Christmas morning. He had finally got up on his feet enough to afford Dish Network on his own! He was no longer forced to watch the same DVD's time and time again. Is it silly that something like this makes me swell up with pride? Well, if it does, then I am silly. Army man learned a lot this past year, but I think he should know this: I learned more than he did and that Hubby and I are pretty damn proud of him, even when there is only room in his fridge for tuna because the shelves are stacked so full of beer.
While doing my errands, work called so a Wal-Mart stop was added to the list. I park the car and head in. As I cross the parking lot, an old classmate hollers at me and crosses over to shake my hand. Seeing this man makes me smile because he always has a huge grin and a kind word for others. When we were in school, he was sometimes picked on because of his challenges. This didn't happen much after people realized how many would stand in front of him to prevent this. When Keith approached us in Wal-Mart when my boys were still very young, they would ask "who was that and how does he know you?". We would explain how we knew Keith and what his challenges were growing up. Nowadays when my Little Guy goes with me to the store, he will always take a moment to speak with Keith and ask him how his beloved Bears are doing. Yup, sometimes I think I may be doing this whole Mom thing OK after all! Keith and I spend some time catching up and off he goes to do his work. I go about my shopping with a smile staying (mostly) on my face. Keith will just do that for you. Next time you are in Olney Wal-Mart and see a cart pusher wearing his Bear's coat, take a moment and say "Hi!" you won't regret it for a single second!
When I headed toward home I decided to drop by and see a wonderful baby girl who is celebrating her 6 month birthday today. I smile every time I think about her being able to be home, with her mommy, daddy, and all the family and friends that love them all. I knock on the door and wait, glancing around at the home these two young parents have made for themselves and again, I am forced to smile. You see, the daddy of this baby girl holds a special place in my heart and always will. Therefore, by extension, his wife and daughter are also in that spot with him. After waiting a few minutes I realize that they must be off celebrating the half birthday or whatever else may be on a busy young mom's schedule. I leave and head home still smiling and saying a word of thanks to the man upstairs for making sure this wonderful girl is home with her family, where she belongs.
So, I guess my theme for today is this: Stop, look around you, realize that what you have is special, no matter if it is cable TV and Beer, a kind word and a big smile, or that you can go home and hold your children close and give them a hug. These are the things that are important...the things you really CAN'T put a price tag on. Happy Friday Folks!
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