My stalkee, Pup, is rather silent these days. I think she needs a little encouragement to start writing to us again. Or maybe she needs a little encouragement about the job. In any case, since she doesn’t have anything in the last few days, my suggestion to you, my readers is to go back to the beginning and read forward from there. You will love her as I do. She says what is on her mind. Why wouldn’t you love her? Honesty is always the best policy, right?

I was at work this morning, just about to bring a patient back to an exam room, when Lucky (think–cell phone) buzzed from deep in my pocket. I quickly looked at the caller ID and went into immediate panic mode when I saw that the call was coming from my mother’s house. This is what I do whenever I get a call at an unusual time or place from my mother’s house. This is because my Mom has had two heart attacks (she would say one heart attack and one “episode”, but to me that’s just denial–sorry Mom) and I am always afraid that if the phone rings and it is from her house, it’s an emergency. Anyway, I quietly said hello as I made my way back to my office. It wasn’t my Mom or my brother, it was Ashley (duh! mental head slap! Ashley lives there, too, now).

“What’s happening with Grandpa?” she asked. I realized that nobody had called her during all of his illness and that she would probably have seen it on my blog since I am sure my mother shows it to her. So I explained as much as I could and then she got to the real reason for her call.

“Can you take care of Isabelle tonight?”

It took me all of 0.0000000001 of a second to say, “Yes, sure.” Then I asked, “Do you have to work or what?” At this point, I wouldn’t have cared if she had told me she was going to an orgy where they would have copious amounts of drugs laying out on all the tables, she wanted us to have Isabelle and keep her overnight and I couldn’t wait to see her. It had been longer than two weeks.

She told me that she was going out with a few friends, one of whom is going back to college this week, so they were doing a little get together. She told me that she would bring Belle over before 6 since that is when we had to go to Sam’s open house for school.

She ended up coming at about 4 and we played a little and went over to the neighbor’s who had a present for her that she has had since Belle’s birthday in July. She hadn’t seen her since then. She played with the little boy there who is her age and he “read” her some stories. It was so cute to see them play together. They had fun, but she kept coming back to me, touching my face and holding it in her hands and then she would go to Emily, too, and do the same thing. It is almost like she can’t believe that we are actually within her grasp. The gift was a dress up outfit that was a little ballerina butterfly with shoes that were like ballerina toe shoes. She put it on and came to show me and said, “Grandma, I’m a beautiful butterfly!” Then she had to show me how she could fly. She is just so damn cute and I could go on and on about all the cute things she said and did the whole night. Licking my face and pretend crying as she tells me that she lives “far far away” and it just makes her so sad. Then the next breath, she says jubilantly, “And your Mom lives there, too!!”

We took her out to dinner after the open house and at first, all she wanted was ice cream. We went to one of those buffet places where they have lots of different things to choose from and she found some pizza that looked good enough to be an appetizer for the jello and ice cream that she had for a main meal and dessert, respectively. While she was eating her ice cream with “candy on it, papa put candy on it, Grandma!”, she all of a sudden put down her spoon with a deep sigh and said, “I’m full, Grandma. I’m just going to watch it now.” She meant watch her ice cream melt.

Does she not just make your eyes water with the cuteness factor? Well if they weren’t watering yet, I will tell you one more thing that she actually said to me Sunday night when I was talking to her on the phone. I told her that I missed her and she said to me, “I’m trying to get back there, Grandma! I love you!” I tried not to cry as I said to her, “I love you, Isabelle, I want to hug you so bad right now.” She told me she loved me again and then she hugged and kissed the phone.

She’s downstairs “watching a movie”, which means falling asleep, in Emily’s room with her. She is sleeping in Auntie Emily’s room tonight, even though her crib is still here. She doesn’t sleep in a crib anymore. She’s a big girl, you know. Duh!! :razz:

Heh heh. This blog will never be the same. That’s right, kids, I’ve got the keys to this sucker and I’m gonna drive it like I stole it. I’ve got the log-in, the password, the whole kit and kaboodle.

You’re surprised, aren’t you? I can hear you saying “Well, Mr. Fabulous, we figured you would get the kit, but we never counted on you getting your hands on the kaboodle too!”

Let this be a lesson.

Okay. On to today’s topic. What is so great about living in the midwest? Shelli lives in the midwest, and she has a lot of blogger friends who do as well. And so do I. And you people love it up there? Why? There is no beach, it gets too damn cold in the winter, and there are too many cows. Did you know that the majority of motor vehicle deaths in the midwest are due to cows being in the road? They’re everywhere! And they are so fast, they jump right in front of your car before you can even react. There are 294 cows for every person in the midwest. I’m pretty sure that’s a fact. It’s gotta be somewhere.

You always hear about how family values are most prevalent in the midwest, how the midwest is a great place to raise a family. Huh? A family of cows, maybe. Did I mention there were a lot of cows there?

Let’s look at the facts, shall we? Twelve states comprise the midwest.

Minnesota: Exhaustive government studies have shown that one out of every three Minnesota residents, at sometime during their lives, will have a crime perpetrated against them by a member of the Minnesota Vikings.

Missouri: This state’s motto is “show me”. Do you know why? Because they are all bordeline functional illiterates. You can explain something to them all you want, but they lack the cognitive capacity to grasp concepts. That is why you always end up having to show them.

Nebraska: Are you crazy? Nebraska? Did you ever see Children of the Corn? That’s where those little bastards live!

Wisconsin: Ed Gein, the murderer on whom the movie Psycho was loosely based, was from Wisconsin, and that’s where he did his killing. From that we can extrapolate that most people in Wisconsin are serial killers. And if you’re not a serial killer, then you have to wear one of those stupid cheesehead hats. Either, way, it’s no way to live.

Ohio: This is the Buckeye State. Does anyone know what a “buckeye” is? No, no one does. Put your hand down, you don’t know. I think it’s made up. Is that the kind of place you want to raise your kids? In some state named after a pretend something or other? I said put your hand down!

Kansas: Oh yeah, let’s move to Kansas. One day you’re sleeping peacefully in your bed and the next thing you know you’re flying through the air and winged monkeys are chasing you and your whole life revolves around gaudy footwear. Oh yeah, that sounds great, where do I sign? Geez!

North and South Dakota: The word “dakota” is a Native American word that means “land so cold and desolate and foreboding that within three days you will have the suicide hotline on speed dial.” You can look that up. Those Native Americans could be very succinct. Plus I find Dakota Fanning to be annoying.

Iowa: There are no schools in Iowa. Not a single one. And the governor of Iowa is Tom Arnold. Need I say more?

Michigan: The only real difference between Michigan and Minnesota is that Michigan is where Minnesota send all its African American citizens to live. Michigan is safer than Minnesota because the members of the Detroit Lions are too lazy to commit crimes. But living there is still no picnic.

Indiana: It is legal to marry your own sister in Indiana. It the aspiration of every young boy in Indiana to grow up, marry his sister, raise a litter of kids with flippers for arms, and run a meth lab out of his basement. That is the Indiana Dream.

Illinois: Oh, so you are saying that at least Illinois has the city of Chicago? The city of Chicago is not real. It’s made up. It’s an urban legend. There are hardly any civilized people in Illinois. Illinois is a barren wasteland. Think Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome. It’s kinda like that.

Has this been helpful at all? I’m just trying to help.

Now let’s all move to Delaware! Who’s with me?

My friend, The Pup, has been really busy trying to get a job. She hasn’t been around the web much and I miss her like crazy! Hopefully she will be back around soon. But, if you go over and give her a “Hey, howdy” (does anyone really say that sort of thing?), tell her that I miss her and that we all hope she gets the job of her dreams. Read back in her archives. She is a funny, funny lady. I love her.

A little background info…

Last Monday night, my father-in-law was admitted to the ICU at a hospital nearby for septic shock. They determined that it was likely that his gallbladder was the source of infection and they decided to remove it. They had to get him healthy enough to do that, so they had him on IV antibiotics and then when his white blood count went down, they were going to send him home to recover a little more and then bring him back in to have surgery to remove his gallbladder. As they were discharging him, he asked a question which caused them to say that he couldn’t go home and he ended up having to stay several more days at the end of which they removed his gallbladder and then sent him home the next day. They are going to do further surgery to repair another problem in about 8-10 weeks. He was doing okay and came home from the hospital on Saturday night. I haven’t said much about it because…well, just because.

Sunday, I went to get some coffee at my favorite coffee shop, Caribou, and I noticed that something didn’t seem right with the brakes on my truck. They sounded terrible. Later in the day, Jason took it for a test drive and he concurred that something was definitely wrong, that he would take it in to the shop on Monday, I would take his car to work and he would catch a ride with a coworker.

Keep all that in mind as I go through how my first day of work went.

I put my shoes on just before I was going to head out the door. They were lovely, brand new shoes that my mother-in-law bought me for my birthday. I had tried one of them on, but was saving them for nursing shoes as they were all white. I hadn’t worn them at all. As Julia Roberts said in Pretty Woman, “Big mistake! Huge mistake!” I knew instantly that they were going to be a problem. That is a huge understatement. They were absolutely, without a doubt, the worst pair of shoes I have ever worn in my life. That’s saying a lot, seeing as how I have worn some pretty high heeled catastrophes in my lifetime. I started at 8:00 am and by 10:00 I was limping. I could barely walk. It felt like someone was stepping on my instep as hard as they could and I still had to walk with them standing on my feet. So at lunch, I went to a store nearby and found a wonderful pair of shoes that felt like slippers compared to what I had been wearing. I could have been walking on a platform of pointy nails and it would have felt better.

I get back to work. I have my lunch in the car with me because I was trying to eat while I was driving to and from the store for the shoes. As I got out of the car, I was having a hard time getting my lunch box and purse out with me so I just left it on the seat and locked the door to walk around to the other side to get my stuff out. You guessed it. The keys were inside sitting in my purse. I had my cell phone in hand, so I called Jason and he said he would come and get the stuff out and bring it into me in about 45 minutes to an hour. I went into the building and sat with my friends in the break room for a little bit.

When I got back to the office where I was working, my trainer, let’s call her S, said that my husband had left a message for me to call him back. I called Jason and he said that he just got done talking to his Mom. It seems his Dad was in the kitchen, his Mom heard him call out and then collapse. When she got to him, he was unconcious and she shook him. While she was shaking him, his pacemaker shocked him and she called 9-1-1. They came and took him to the hospital by ambulance. He is there tonight, having a full battery of tests. So, before they came to bail me out of my situation, Jason went to the hospital first to see what was up with his Dad and they (he and his partner) actually beat the ambulance to the hospital. So far, he is doing okay.

We also got news that my truck was going to cost a huge amount of money to get fixed. We had them fix the part that Jason was having trouble doing himself and then he is going to do the other part on the weekend.

On top of all that, I had a headache! Yay!

It will be better tomorrow, right? I mean, it can’t get much worse.

(I know, I shouldn’t say that. It could be a lot worse–for instance, thank God that Jason’s Dad is doing okay–and I should know better than to tempt fate or the gods or whatever, but you have to think that it can only get better.)

**Tomorrow (Wednesday, August 30), I will have a guest poster. Today, I work until 5:00, we have Emily’s open house after work and then Emily also has 2 softball games at 7:15 and 8:30. So, basically, I will be gone from 7:30 in the morning until 10:00 tonight. I am going to be exhausted. My wonderful friend, Mr. Fab, volunteered to do a guest post for me. I don’t even have to pay him. Oops! :mouthshut:Maybe I wasn’t supposed to say that. Everyone else has to pay him. I have helped him with some technical stuff on his blog, so he is repaying his debt. Yah, that’s it, he’s repaying his debt.

The last but certainly not least of my cyber-family for me to stalk is Pup. The Speckled Pup. She is my cyber-sister, too. We have a lot in common. I can’t list them all here. That’s between me and Pup. She is kind of mysterious that way. I like that about her. Me, I am kind of an open book. I don’t know how to shut my mouth sometimes. Maybe that’s what she likes about me. Anyway, she is in the quest for a job and I have a feeling she is getting close. Go on over and give her some encouragement! She just joined a choir. I wish I could hear her sing. I have been told that she has a beautiful voice.

I feel like I have wasted away the weekend. I spent most of it in bed with an effing migraine. Have I ever told you how much I hate them? They wear me out. They are depressing. They are painful. When you have as many as I do and are on as many meds as I am, they are worrisome. Sorry to be whiney.

I didn’t get much else done this weekend. Just a lot of sleeping. Oh, I hemmed my new scrub pants so that I can wear them to work today. Did I ever tell you that I am really short? And that if they don’t have petite sizes then I have to hem everything? Yah, well it’s true. My whole life is like that. I don’t quite fit. Just a little off, I am. My Mom used to do all my hemming for me, but I don’t ask her anymore. I’m a big girl now. Besides, I got my own sewing machine now, so I can do it myself. There are a few swear words thrown in with the thread, but I manage to get it done.

We brought Sam and Emily to the dentist this weekend. Our dentist has Saturday hours all day. Does anyone else’s dentist do this? I think it is really nice. Emily didn’t have any cavities, but Sam had one. Big surprise! Getting the kid to brush his teeth is like telling him that he has to pull his toenails out one by one. It’s his first cavity. If you hear screaming on Thursday afternoon, you will know it is either him screaming that he doesn’t want to get his cavity filled or me screaming because he is driving me crazy.

Emily. My Emily. She has her high school orientation tomorrow. She is terrified. I am sad. My baby is going to high school. Yikes. Where did the time go? Wasn’t she just going off to kindergarten? With her long blond hair and her cute little clothes? She still has long blond hair and cute clothes, they are just much bigger now. She will do well. I know it. She’s a good kid with lots of friends. School actually starts on the Tuesday after Labor Day.

Sam starts middle school that day. Lord, am I getting old? I feel old. He’s all skater boy clothes and hair and not at all the perfectly clipped and clothed boy that went off to kindergarten 6 years ago. But, he is still a good kid and he is clean and combed and he looks cute. Of course, I am his Mom.

Sam had his orientation last week. His sister got him off to school because I was in training. That made me feel bad. I have never missed things like that. I may miss Emily going off to her orientation, too. Worse than all that, I may have to miss them both getting off to school the first day. I have never done that. We always video tape them going to school on their first day. Each of them (yes, Ashley, too) have their own tape with all of their first days of school. It is really cool to go back and see how they have changed over the years. At Ashley’s open house, we were going to have it running so people could watch it, but we had changed video recording devices during her childhood, so they were in two different formats and we couldn’t figure out how to put them together. Of course we waited until the last minute, so we didn’t have a lot of time to play around with it. Now we have 4 years to figure it out for Emily, so hopefully we will be able to get it done before then.

Finally–I get to actually work on the peds floor with all my friends, today. I should probably be there all week. Yay. I am excited to actually get my hands dirty, so to speak. I may be slow getting around to you all this week, but come Wednesday afternoon, my time will be mine and I will catch up with whatever I have missed.

My Weight Watchers leader told this tale in the meeting yesterday. Some of you may have heard it before, at least, it seemed familiar to me. But, it’s a good analogy and something we should all think about when judging ourselves.

Everyday, a woman walked to the spring to gather water for her household. She carried one pot on each end of stick that she wore across her shoulders. One of the pots had a small crack in the side, so everyday when she got back to the house, she had only one and a half pots of water left.

After 20 years of this, finally the cracked pot said to her, “Madame, I have failed you all these years. I have not done my job in carrying water for you and your family.” She replied to the pot, “Look along your side of the path. I have planted seeds along your side and all these years, as we have walked back, you have watered them and helped them grow into beautiful flowers. It is your flaw that makes you who you are and gives you strength.”

We all have cracks. They make us who we are. If I had not been through the painful things that I have been through in my life, I would not have the strength to be who I am today. The strength that I have today, will help me through the difficult times of tomorrow and then those troubled times will make me stronger still. So I look at my cracks and I appreciate them for what they are. I try to learn from them so that I may make the most out of them. I am flawed, yes, but my flaws make me who I am.

For another version of this parable, check out this link.