The Only Thing That Changes is EVERYTHING

It has been so long since I've even had any kind of desire to sit down and write something... let alone had the spare time to do it.  My week days pretty much all run together.  I don't know if I even have the brain capacity to regurgitate the events of the last few months since I went back to work.

Of course Elise is chatting up a storm.  She says the cutest things.  Her Grandpa recently taught her to "bump knucks."  Unfortunately with the fun, comes the bad fits... and she can pitch some good ones!  Pretty much the most frustrating thing she does is throw stuff.  When she gets mad, she rips her paci out of her mouth and launches it.  Then of course she wants one of us to pick it up.  But, we're working through it.

Two weeks ago I had gall bladder surgery. After having a few tests run my doctor sent me to a surgeon to have the nuclear test confirmed that it would need to come out.  He explained to me that one of the injections they gave me makes my stomach/gall bladder think I just ate a whole pizza.  It's supposed to immediately make the gall bladder start contracting.  He told me that a normal person's gall bladder functions at 80-100%.  Anything below 30% is considered to be abnormal.  Mine was 0.... ZERO functioning.  I had the surgery August 25th.  The first few days afterwards were a little rough, but I was back at work the following Monday.... I'm pretty hardcore like that.

Probably the biggest change going on right now is that we are moving.  Our house has been for sale for a while now.  We need more space and with the interest rates as low as they are, we won't have another opportunity like this to upgrade to something bigger and still affordable.

We spent valuable hours, brain power, arguing... you name it- it happened when we first started this whole process.  I believe it now when people say building a house is one of the hardest things a married couple can do.... I think we quite possibly could have gotten a divorce over the exterior paint color.  The day it came down to picking that out, Jason and I were going back and forth about it and I was laying in our bed trying to take a nap, but Jason kept on and on about it.  I evidently didn't think long enough before I made my decision between two different shades of brown, so Jason thought I didn't care enough about it....We exchanged words and then I finally jumped out of the bed, went outside in my T-shirt barefooted to the front yard, and literally ripped the For Sale sign out of the yard like The Incredible Hulk....  It was intense.  I put it in the garage and said "There!!!!  Now we won't have to worry about it!!!!!"

Anyway!!!  We had settled on a builder, had the plans, house was on the market, things were heading the right direction..... we thought.  After we got jacked around by the builder one too many times, my calm and patient husband LOST.HIS.SHIZ. and came unhinged on the builder.  After it was all said and done, we got our money back, we have a notarized contract release form that Jason made the builder meet him at City Hall to have signed, loss of sleep, no new house, but a house still on the market and a lot of time that I'll never get back.

We explained the situation to our realtor and he asked us if we'd consider starting the building process again in a new part of town.  We went through our options and met another building company and starting working up some plans.  A few lousy offers trickled in here and there, but nothing to write home about.  Then a friend of Jason's expressed some interest in buying it.  He came and looked at it 3 times, and then put an offer in through the real estate agent.  We have accepted and are anticipating a closing date of Sept. 30.... however, Jason and I have not committed to that close date yet because we currently have no where to go in the mean time.  It will take about 120 days for our new house to be built, so we'll need a place to rent month to month that will let us have our big dogs.  We'll probably have to put quite a bit of stuff in storage, too.

Our plans on the new home are almost complete.  We are really excited about it.  It's going to be in a new development just outside of town.  It's all brand new homes in an 8 phase subdivision that's currently in phase 1.  The lots are big and the homes are beautiful.  All we need to nail down is where we will live in the mean time....  and it looks like moving in the winter too.  Which I can say doesn't thrill me one bit.

P.S.  With all of the devastating wild fires happening all across this state, I don't know what more is going to have to burn until Obama doesn't reject Texas' request for wildfire disaster declaration again!!!

I Can Not Make This Up!

I want to take you through a litte scene that I was involved in one afternoon at work.  But, before I get into the full blown story I need to provide you with a little background info.  First of all, there is a warehouse/shop attached to our office building.  It houses all of our valves and various equipment that we keep in inventory as well as the forklift and pick-up.  Every morning and evening at open and close, the "shop truck" has to be pulled in and out of the warehouse/shop.  It kinda resembles this one:

Except that the spare tire is mounted on top of the cab and it sits a little higher off the gound.  It's a diesel and a standard.  We have a part time Logistics/Warehouse guy that manages the warehouse, runs the forklift and pulls the truck in and out daily.  Well I don't know exactly when it was delegated to me, but I was informed I'd be needing to pull the shop truck out in the mornings and back inside before closing.

HOLD THE PHONE!  That's a STANDARD.  I did not officially take driver's ed (just the at home version) and no where in my training was there anything called a clutch.

Now, fortunately not all is lost.  I have had some exposure to operating a standard and understanding the concept of "ease off the clutch," but not enough to just go whipping it in and out of a WAREHOUSE.  Maybe a pasture.

So I needed to find a willing participant to teach me how to drive the shop truck.  Of everyone in our office (which is between 6-10 people given the day), there were only 2 guys that I deemed acceptable teachers.  One of which is Kevin.  Our outside salesman.  He told me when he got back to the office we could practice out on the back roads behind the office for a while before we closed.

Another factor to note is that our building is made of tin?  So we have the tin/metal building and shop, then just a tin/metal fence around the back of the property with one of those wide swinging tin gates.  The shop truck is usually parked just outside of the overhead shop door in front of the swinging gate.  That's where it was located when I took my first driving lesson.

I got the keys, unlocked it and jumped in.  There was no keyless entry, so I literally had to reach over and physically unlock Kevin's door.  It's a single cab with a bench seat.  The middle seat belt is not the standard lap belt, it's a shoulder seat belt just like the driver and passengers seat belts.  I used my left hand, reached over my right shoulder and pulled the seat belt across me. 

"Umm.  Kevin?  I don't have a plug for my seat belt."
"What do you mean you don't have a plug?"
"I don't have anywhere to click my seat belt into... seriously!  There's NOTHING there!"
"Well what do you mean?  Did Rudy cut it off or something?"
"I don't freakin know, all I know is that it's not there."

About that time I jump out of the truck to see if I can somehow find the missing receptor for the seat belt to plug into.

"I seriously don't have one, Kevin!"
"Um, why are you trying to put on that seat belt?  Your seat belt is on YOUR left side."
"Ohhhh....."

Ok, back in the truck with the correct seat belt on.

"Ok, now push in the clutch and turn it on.  You're in 1st gear.  Keep your foot on the clutch."

Done.

"You look like you're really far from the steering wheel and pedals, do we need to scoot the seat up for you?"

"Yeah, that would probably help."

Kevin reached down under his seat for the lever.

"The lever is on your side.  So you'll have to pull it up and we'll have to both scoot forward at the same time."  (Remember it's a bench seat.)

I have my foot on the clutch, one hand on the lever underneath seat, and the other hand on the steering wheel. 

"Ok, ready, go"

I pull the lever and we both try to scoot forward in unison.  Something evidently wasn't jiving.  We either weren't moving simultaneously or I wasn't moving forward at all.  Then it started to seem like everytime we would scoot ourselves forward in the seat something would push us back.  Evidently as we were scooting back and forth, my foot was going back and forth on the clutch too.

It was hard to tell that the truck was moving forward because we were scooting back and forth and back and forth in the seat.  We would go forward, the truck went forward, we would go back and the truck was going... well I don't know where all I know is it was going!  And then it was all too late...

"Push in on the clutch!  Clutch! Clutch!"

Bang....

I drove the truck into the tin gate.  That was latched shut.  And padlocked.  Well after I hit it, it wasn't either of the two.  Kevin being the good guy that he is jumped out as fast as he could to try to get it shut back.

"We've gotta get it shut before somebody comes out here and asks what the hell that noise was!!!!" 

Eventually after some finagling, the gate was able to be closed and locked again.  But it has a few dints in it.  And my bosses haven't asked about it, so maybe they haven't noticed.  And the truck is fine.

The rest of my driving training went perfectly.  I didn't kill it once and I mastered all of the shifting.

The following morning I was on my way out to the shop to back the shop truck out when I stopped by our service guy's desk.  He was my other option for a driving instructor.

"Did Kevin tell you he helped me learn to drive the shop truck yesterday?"  I said so proudly and cheerfully.

"Yeah.  I heard you did a bang up job."

"Oh my god, Jarrod! You're not gonna tell anyone are you?  What if someone asks you about it?  What are you gonna say?"

::paranoid???::

"I'm sure Kevin, Rudy, or I will take the heat for it so don't worry."

Yeah................  Never gonna live that down.

She wore an itsy bitsy teeny weeny yellow polka dot bikini...

HIIIIIIII!

Sick Baby

A couple of weekends ago Elise started feeling bad and running a fever.  On Monday morning she woke up and was running a temp of 102.  I texted my bosses and told them I'd be in later that morning because I needed to take Elise to the doctor.  After a minor verbal argument with the lady on the phone at the doctor's office, we were there waiting to be seen.  The nurse took her temperature and it was 103.1 in spite of the fact that I had given her Tylenol earlier to bring the fever down.  The nurse brought in a dose of Motrin for Elise to take to try to bring the fever down.  She just laid her head on my chest and tried to sleep.  Evidently they were concerned about her high temperature because the nurse came back in with wet rags and told me to put them on Elise's head and make sure to get her hair wet and take some of her clothes off.

Dr. Walsh came in a looked her.  She had severe double ear infections.  The doctor said that if those were her ears she'd be in a lot of pain.  We got the prescription and I took her home for Jason to keep her for the rest of the day.  She slept a lot.  Didn't eat much.  When I came home from work, I noticed that she had a few spots on her back.  I asked Jason what they were and he didn't think anything of it.  Then I lifted up her shirt and her whole torso was covered in them.  So, I drove up to the pharmacy so that I could have the pharmacist look at her to see if it was an allergic reaction.  From the time it took for us to drive to and from the pharmacy, Elise's face and legs were covered in the spots.

I called the doctor's office and got the answering service.  The nurse finally called me back.  I explained to her the situation and she said I shouldn't give Elise anymore of the antibiotic and a different one would have to be called in the following morning.  We just needed to give her Benadryll for the reaction and Tylenol for the fever.  It wasn't even 3 minutes later, the nurse called me back again and said that Dr. Walsh wanted to see Elise in her office first thing the next morning.

Jason and I took her back up there Tuesday morning.  Her fever had broke the night before.  I had gone into check on her when she was sleeping and she was covered in sweat and her hair was all wet.  I explained that to her doctor.  It turns out that she had Roseola.  It's a virus like baby Measles.  Dr. Walsh figured that she had the virus first which weakened her immune system and caused the double ear infections.  If she had been a younger baby she would have had to be hospitalized.

She stayed at home with Jason Monday through Thursday.  By Friday she was back to her cheery self and free of her rash.  It was a grueling week of running to and from downtown Amarillo and the pharmacy, working, and having a sick baby.

Maybe NOT "The Best Days Of My Life"

Holy Crap!  My new life as a full time working mom is overwhelming and often times a struggle.

For 5 days, I get up at around 6:30ish, get myself in the shower, get ready for work.  IF Jason is home, he helps get Elise dressed (I fix her hair, due his lack of styling skills...unless I'm running behind), and gets her cups and lunch in her bag.  Maybe every other morning, we persevere through one (or two) of her tantrums before even leaving the driveway.

If he's not home (which was the case several mornings due to fires), I do all of the above, battle with her to get her in her car seat to head to daycare while breaking into a sweat before leaving the driveway.

After daycare drop off, I head to work.  There, I put in an 8 hour work day.  Run from work to the daycare and pick up Elise.

We recently switched to taking Elise to The Christian Learning Center at the Baptist church here in town since her previous sitter was unable to keep her through the summer.  The church is within walking distance from the fire station so Jason is able to walk over and pick her up.  I still have to drive to and from there for pick ups and drop offs since he drives a city vehicle and as of now cannot have a car seat in it.  So that's a little inconvenient, but it is what it is.

Once we get home I get Elise unloaded and get her bag in the house to unpack, and then attempt to change my clothes.  About that same time, round 1 of the tantrums start.  Between the few hours that we get home and she goes to bed I make her dinner, attempt to feed her, get her a bath, and get her ready for bed.  We typically experience tantrums through the majority of that.  When I say tantrums.... I mean SCREAMING, kicking, hitting, throwing, and laying on the floor face down refusing to get up.  And DON'T even think about picking her because she stiffens up so that it's next to impossible to get a secure hold on her.

I do not cook dinner for me and Jason.  That's at the bottom of the priority list.  My energy and patience is pretty much exhausted from working all day and trying not to have a complete melt down from the unpleasant home environment I suffer through for several hours 5 days a week.  Some nights, cereal at 9pm is as good as it gets.

If Jason is home he'll make her cups and get her lunch for the following day.  If not, after she goes to bed I use the last bit of energy I have to drag my ass off the couch and prepare juice and milk cups, bag up chicken nuggets, make sure there's extra clothes, snacks, and her blanket in her bag.  Then sometimes, I look in the laundry room at the overflowing laundry basket and cuss at it...  then I wonder what it would cost to drop all that crap off at the cleaners?

After DAYS go by of this, I realize why people drink.  I went to the beer store two days in a row to get more wine.  Obviously alcohol is not the solution and I try to ask myself  "what would Jesus do?"  But, isn't there wine and bread at communion?  Yep...  So then the world is right again.

I have been wracking my brain trying to figure where all of Elise's intense emotions stem from.  Approaching the terrible two's?  Lack of full time attention from me?  Lack of sufficient rest?  All of the above?

How in God's name do people do this with more than one child?  They must never sleep.

I have been trying to make a personal goal of being IN BED between 9pm and 9:30pm.  But, more often times than not, I climb into bed and glance at the clock.  Freaking 10:30pm!!  What the hell happened in the last hour and a half that prevented me from getting in bed?  Sitting on the couch in a coma looking for my sanity?  Probably.

I have just spent all of this time complaining which I don't like.  I like my job, I feel comfortable about Elise being at the church during the day, but I wish the few hours I get to spend with her in the evening would be less painful and more pleasant for all of us.

And don't even get me started on the drama with selling our house and getting the new one built, or else this blog will turn into a major suckfest and no one will read it.  But, I'm surviving... I'm still alive.  Today anyway.

Week 1 of Working Momma

I started my new job on Tuesday as an inside sales rep for a local company that sells valves, control panels, actuators, etc. 

I spent the previous Monday confirming child care arrangements for Elise.  She's going to stay with the sitter she's stayed with on occasion until the end of May.  She's going to the Baptist church's summer program until the middle of August, and then back to the sitter.

The night before my big day, I wanted to get all of mine and Elise's stuff sorted out.  I had paperwork and books I needed to take to the office, and she needed clothes, diapers, wipes, drinks, snacks, lunch, and blankets packed in her bag.  I had to make a Wal-Mart run to pick up last minute items.  I was counting on Jason to be home to help with that, dinner, cleaning up, bath and bed time.  Unfortunately, that was not the case.  I started out the night before my first day of work in stress overload mode.  Trying to tackle all of those things solo and get myself mentally prepared to get back into working mode.  I finally had dinner at 9:30pm and went to bed.

Day 1: Tuesday went pretty well.  Elise didn't even look back when I dropped her off and I managed to hold back any tears.  She did well throughout the day, just really tired since being way off her schedule.  I picked her up from the sitter's and headed home.  I left her with Jason so that I could run to the grocery store.  After some grocery shopping, I headed home and got started cooking dinner for all of us.  Well, as luck would have it... Jason's pager went off.  And...  I totally lost my shiz. 

I mean imagine this for one minute:  The night before getting ready for my first day at work without any support.  Going to work, going grocery shopping, cooking dinner, and then someone saying they are leaving right in the middle of cooking dinner, only to be left to clean up, do bath time, and bed time all alone again.  Seriously.  Throw me a freakin bone.  It wouldn't have been a big deal if I wasn't just starting a brand new job and trying to mentally and physically deal with that and leaving Elise at a sitter's.  More packing her bag, coordinating lunch and snacks, etc.

So I really wouldn't call my first day back in the work scene a HUGE success. 

Day 2:  Wednesday.  Back to the sitter's, back to work, back to the sitter's.  Obviously every Wednesday Jason has drill at the fire station until pretty late at night.  We crossed paths at home briefly.  He did get her drink cups made for the next day before he left.  Elise didn't hardly eat anything for dinner.  Then, I spent the next 2 and half hours trying to determine WHY my sweet little child was throwing tantrums.  Screaming, throwing stuff, a screaming fit all through bath time.  So now let's add guilt on top of the list of emotions.  Stress, frustration, and guilt.  Those are all super positive.  I was guilty that she felt so upset because she wasn't getting the attention from me she was used to.  I was guilty because I had interrupted her routine.  But, even worse than that, is that I felt overwhelming guilt for begging for it to be her bed time.  It had only been 2 days, but it felt like a week.  All of those things going on had been exhausting for me, and then frustrating that I didn't have my sweet happy baby to play with when I got home.  I had a completely different child.  And how could I not want to make that short amount of time be pleasant and want it to last?  Instead I wanted her to go to sleep, I wanted to eat dinner, and try to desensitize and prepare for ANOTHER day.  She went to sleep, I finally ate dinner around 9pm, and fell asleep before Jason got home.  That's pretty rare.  I usually stay up until he gets home and wake up if the front door opens.  I was so worn out that I didn't even wake up when he came home, made something to eat, and took a shower.

Day 3:  Thursday.  Back to the sitter's for drop off.  But, this time Elise didn't want me to leave.  She clung to my legs and went "uh uh uh."  I felt so bad.  Darcy (sitter) picked her up and carried her off to distract her so I could sneak out the door.  After work, I picked her up and headed back home to try again.  Now Jason was able to witness the 2 hour long tantrums.  Laying on the floor, throwing stuff, screaming....  Bath time was a battle.  More screaming and flailing.  I finally got her to lay in my arms on the couch and fall asleep.  Another night of relief for bed time.  That's horrible.  I don't see her all day and then when I get home with her, I'm relieved for her to go to sleep.

Day 4:  Friday.  Jason was off and stayed home with Elise.  He called me a little before lunch and told me she had been running a fever.  When he took it, it was 102.  He said she'd been sleeping off and on, but when she was awake she was really fussy.  She had Tylenol, but that didn't bring it down a whole lot.  After work, when I got home she felt really warm so I took her rectal temp.  It was 102.7.  I called the answering service for our pediatrician.  The on call nurse called me back told me to alternate Motrin and Tylenol and gave me the accurate doses.  Elise was feeling really bad, she just laid her head on my chest and cried until she fell asleep.  After a couple of doses of meds, her mood had drastically improved.  I was able to get her a bath, but I knew she still wasn't well because she had chills and was shivering.  She laid on the couch with me and fell asleep.

It has been a grueling week.  Lots of emotions, and new routines.  I knew it would be hard, but I also know it will get better.  At least I can hope it will.  I don't even want to think about July... Jason is planning on being gone for an entire week.  I don't know if I'll be able to survive....  I barely made it through 2-3 days without any help.