Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Randomness, the Sequel

I so enjoy randomness. It allows me to share with you snapshots of my life without having to come up with an entire blog that makes sense from beginning to end.

Conversations with the kids:
Kam: I'm not growing fast enough.
Me: You're growing too fast for me.
Kam: No my not! I want to be growed up so I can be a policeman and it takes forever!
Keep in mind that the only reason he wants to be a policeman is so he can carry a gun and apparently blow away bad guys - and anyone else who gets in the way - to smithereens. He hasn't mutilated any animals yet, so I don't think I'm raising a psycho-killer-gun-spree sort of guy. Hopefully.

In his obsession to be a police man, Kam took a pad of paper and drew faces on several pages. He proceeded to flip through the pages and ask me, "Have you seen this man?" I guess it was a photo line up. On the fourth one, I pointed to Shawn who said, "Wait, that man doesn't have facial hair." Kam promptly drew the needed beard and mustache and asked me again, "Have you seen this man?" And tilted his head towards his dad. Typical cop.

I have now come up with a clever plan to use this against him, "Kam, you can't be a policeman if you don't follow rules..." We'll see.

My oldest son got the 24 hour bug that was going around and it hit him the hardest. While everyone else suffered with high temps and chills, he added puking to the mix. After he ate spaghetti. Awesome. After an ordeal of being up with him nearly every hour on the hour, the next morning he said, "Mom, I'm sorry I threw up all over. I tried to run, but I didn't want to trip, so I speed-walked." Great diet plan, maybe I should try that.

My youngest son learned to whistle a few months ago, and now whistles better than anybody in our household. Unfortunately he only whistles, "Old McDonald." But my husband has been in charge of dropping him off at school on Tuesdays and Thursdays. They walked down the hall hand in hand to hang up his coat and backpack. Along the way, a mother and daughter walking in the opposite direction, said 'good morning' to them. Five steps later, Kamrin ripped out a loud wolf-whistle (whoot-woo), which reverberated off of every wall and locker. The woman looked over her shoulder while Shawn pointed at Kam. Wonder if she believed him?

I told the boys to shut the TV off and find something creative to do. They took their piggy banks and decided to throw coins at each other in the bedroom on the bed. They now wake up with imprints of Abraham Lincoln on their bodies.

Out of the blue, on the way to Pre-Kindergarten, Kam announced, "I like to party." My kind of guy.

Other Random Things:
Shawn set his cell phone down next to mine on the table. "Hey," I said, "Your phone is touching mine." Without a pause he replies, "Phone sex."

I find it highly amusing that my husband receives spam in his email advertising dating sites for people over 55.

He also decided to shave our Lab-mix, Bo, but left a pom on the end of his tail. He's embarrassed. (Bo, not Shawn.)

Above mentioned dog got digging fever and dug a hole deep enough to nearly bury a Big Wheel. I personally believe it revenge for the tail thing.

Speaking of animals, I picked up my books for next quarter and two had pictures in them that made my 7-year-old gag. It's going to be an awesome quarter.

Money has been so tight, I felt bad about buying a pack of razor blades for $1.97 at Wal-Mart, but man, I was just getting too hot with all the extra fur!

Thinking that if we lost someone close, this is NOT the book I would buy to explain things to my children:

And just for fun, some pictures of things that I would totally buy if I were rich:
My kids would totally love me for this. It would also eliminate me having to say, "Keep your hands to yourself!"

Okay, I wouldn't spend $300 on a sleeping bag, and it would only be funny on the beach.

Perfect for me at Vet Tech school. Too bad it's not a dog or it would be first on my Christmas list.

Does it have to be a completely full bottle of wine? Just saying...

Thursday, September 22, 2011

Lessons Learned in 3 Months of Vet Tech school as a SOTA.

I'm a SOTA. For those of you who don't know what that means, it means I can't find a job that pays $3 over minimum wage in my field, so I've gone back to school to chase my dream. AKA Student, Older Than Average. So, curious as to what this old dog has learned for new tricks in 10 weeks? Read on.

95% of everything that makes most of the younger students gag or pass out, I've already handled 10 times over with my kids. And animals don't complain! For Pete's sake, ever been in a public place with a kid who is going to puke? Your first reaction is to hold your hand out to catch it.

Closing the door behind you doesn't apply here. Yeah, try to impress your Veterinarian with how well you clean the dog runs by LOCKING YOURSELF IN ONE! I was alone at the time. Thank God, the upper part of the run is bars. I was going to get my hand and wrist through those bars if it meant drawing blood. I'd just say the dog was in heat.

Cats are not attached to their skin. It's an amazing ability really, you think you have a hold on them, and they literally turn in their skins to scratch you.

There are a lot of cool 20-somethings out there, and there are a lot who are not. I'm not even sure where to start here. First, you can leave you damn cell phone alone for one hour, seriously, no one will die if you don't text them back in 20 seconds. I don't care if you have it on vibrate, when it vibrates the whole dang table during a quiz, I guarantee I will shoot you the iciest cold stare I can muster. Oh, and I know you don't know this, but some topics are off limit for class discussion, including your boyfriend problems, your menstrual problems and how drunk you got over the weekend. Don't care. On a scale from 1-10 with 10 being the worse, your problems are a 2 compared to what I've lived through, but I don't beg for sympathy. Get over it and grow up.

When there's 20 minutes of class left and 30 slides to cover, please don't launch into a story about how you've potty trained your cat on the toilet! I'm here to learn something valuable.

The best instructors even out the bad with the good. Hey class, we have a 235 point final...but I brought donuts! (Thank you Lord and pass the sugar.)

You don't have to stick your finger up to the second knuckle in a dog's butt (only the first) to find the anal's not fun for you or the dog.

Cats scream. It doesn't matter if you look at them funny, their screaming will make you feel like you plucked their whiskers out.

Yes, popcorn is a meal. 

It is okay to drink at ten in the morning. Only if you've just finished your last final.

Animals turned over to the humane society do not always have serious issues. Some do, but the majority have lost their home because of economic reasons, not abuse, and are actually very loving. They won't struggle, even if you're drawing blood and having to move the needle several times because you're new at this, just because they want human contact. Please adopt and save yourself from the "puppy/kitten stage."

After trying to get an anal temp on a cat, trying to get my kids out the door doesn't seem as challenging any more.

There will always be people who will complain that they were, "too hung over to do homework." Yeah? Try having a kid who has homework, a house that needs to be cleaned, supper to be made, laundry to be done and the only quiet time you get to study is after 10 PM. THEN talk to me about having no time.

Most of your instructors were born were born after 1980...try not to hold that against them.

Your kids are only interested in you day if it involves poop, pee or blood and gore or some kind of anal procedure.

Dogs don't care if they fart or how bad it smells. If you're lifting one on a table, no etiquette is required.

You WILL have to refrain from becoming a hoarder. "I found a stray," only works so many times.

These animals are someone's children, treat them that way.

A lot of animals are better people than a most people I know.

'Ode de la dogge' is going to be a scent you'll have to get used to wearing.

It's awesome not having to decide what you need to wear everyday beyond a long or short-sleeved shirt under your scrubs.

Hairstyle? Psssht. Ponytail every day.

Your kids will never understand the importance to being on time for a class, so just turn the clocks ahead an hour.

Seriously, spay or neuter your pet!! If you can't afford it, ask your Vet, we will get you help, it's that important.

Just when you think you can't remember anything else, there is finals week.

But here is the most important thing...if you've wanted to chase a're never too old to do it. You may feel like you're taking a step backward at times, but the love of this profession and the people I've met, the things I've learned and everything it's done for my self esteem is absolutely priceless. And I must mention, I have a husband you has become the sole provider for my family ( a HUGE undertaking) who has NEVER complained once about me not having a job, having to take on extra duties, and complimenting me on how intelligent he thinks I am. How wonderful is that? Screw crossword puzzles for Alzheimer's, go back to school!

Friday, September 16, 2011

Paranormal Addiction

I had a little time to myself, so I thought I'd watch TV. I brought up my list of recorded programs to catch up on. There it was in black and white (or blue and white). My addiction. Staring me in the face. I'm addicted to...(cough)...paranormal reality shows. My list consisted of, "Ghost Hunters," "Ghost Hunters International," "Paranormal Witness," "Paranormal State," "A Haunting," and "Ghost Lab." I saw the list, and realized I have a problem and may need an intervention. It's not that I really believe in that stuff, I just get sucked in. I may believe in an 'energy' or 'angels' but not ghosts. And these shows do nothing to make me a believer, trust me.

In fact, there are lots of thing that annoy me about these shows, and yet...some weird force compels me to sit there and watch them. Let me share my annoyances:

A) If you have an entity that will actually turn a flashlight on and off, why do they waste the entity's time by continually having them turn it off and on? I mean, if I could have a yes or no conversation with an actual dead person, I'm not going to waste my time having them turn it on when I count to three, or turn it off when I get to ten. How about, "Are you a male or female?" "Was it you who murdered three people in this house?" Come on people! They probably quit turning the flashlights off and on because the conversation sucks!

B) Why must they hunt for ghosts in the dark? If you listen to a lot of the client's stories, their experiences happen during the day. I mean a lot! If you had the lights on, you might actually SEE what made that noise, instead of swinging your flashlight over to illuminate a bunch of nothingness. Not to mention, pale green negative is not a flattering color on anybody. You look like a deer caught in headlights.
My husband's not so secret lust object. I'm okay with that.

Which brings me to my next point.

C) Maybe you guys should wear cameras ON YOUR HEAD. Do you know how frustrating it is to have you see something when the camera is constantly focused on you? I want to see what you see. Your cameraman will never react fast enough in a million years to see your reaction AND spin in the right direction to catch the ghost on film.

D) Investigate REAL haunted houses. If you want to catch something on film, spend the night in the Amitiville Horror house, not Mark Twain's house. Just saying.
So quaint.

E) EVPs, I'm not hearing what you're hearing. I don't know. Most of them time sounds like...well, nothing. How do you get, "I'm not dead," out of the same thing that comes out of my radio when it's in between stations. Oh, I agree, the minute you tell me what you hear, I hear it too. It's called the power of suggestion.

F) The ghost box thing is much better than the thingy with lights on it. If you don't know what I'm talking about, it's some sort of gadget that produces a lot of white noise, like a radio flipping through stations, and then you ask questions, and a word will pop out. The times I've seen it used, it actually gives you answers that make sense. Much cooler than green lights.Wanna hear one? 

G) I'm always in shock with actor portrayals. In "Paranormal Witness," they keep your attention by having a storyline instead of real time. So you're watching a little movie about 'real' (I use the term loosely) events and then they switch to the interview with the actual person. Does it ever shock you? In the portrayal, the woman is fetching, blond, nice features. Then...switch. Interview with actual person. Aaaackkk! Dishwater hair, slight under bite and about 50 lbs heavier than actor. OR actor with George Clooney looks (okay, maybe closer to Matt Damon) and real guy is balding, 25 years older than the actor, with beer gut. Go Hollywood. Umm, do the real people get to pick the people who portray them? Because then I totally get it.

H) Quit getting my hopes up! You cut to commercials when I think you have a ghost strangling you, I wait through 5 minutes of commercial only to find out you choked on your Mentos . That just isn't right. I feel violated. You didn't even buy me dinner.

I) The re-enacted tales...Do you notice they happen on the East coast and all happened during the 70s? Yeah, we all know what went on in the 70s. Are we sure it's ghosts? Or something else? Do we not have ghosts on the prairie? Okay, I did see an episode in Deadwood, SD. Maybe that counts.

J) Where are the ghosts anyway? It never fails that when you're downstairs, the noise is upstairs. You and your team race up there to find...nothing. But oddly, the noise is now DOWNSTAIRS. They're messin' with ya man. A ghost with a sense of humor.

And for the finale...this SNL sketch pretty much sums it up. And yet I still record...and watch. Weird. We all need rehab for something.

Sunday, September 11, 2011

Lighten Up

It's been one of those hard days. I don't suffer from depression, but do ever have a day where you're mad/sad/pissed off and you really can't pinpoint a reason? Yeah, it was one of those days for me. So...instead of telling you all the reasons that may or may not have caused my Sybil behavior today, I'm going to focus instead on some of the lighter moments of the last few weeks (has it been that long since I've last written? Sheesh, I lose track of time.)

My parents came up for Labor Day weekend. My dad always insists on taking us out to eat, which usually ends up like this. But I picked a new Mexican restaurant, which is probably comparable to a Spanish Applebee's. It actually was a much more pleasant experience than usual. But we had something that you don't usually get at a restaurant...excellent service. Our waiter referred to the boys as "Amigo" as in, "More milk mi amigo?" And when one son swallowed wrong and started coughing, he came up and patted him on the back, telling him to, "drink slower, eh?" Which of course, prompted fake coughing from the other boy, just so he could get pats on the back as well. My highlight of the night was helping my dad finish his jumbo margarita. which should have come with two drunk goldfish, it was so big.

My husband has finally been recruited to be responsible for getting my youngest son to school....only on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I can't believe how complicated he makes things. I even made a checklist for him, so he would know which door to go in, where to hang the back pack, where he ate breakfast, etc. By the time Friday rolled around, my son asked me who was driving him to school. When I told him I was, he had his shoes on, his backpack ready and was nearly out the door. After much prodding, I found out what the problem was. I had told my husband that class started at 8:15 AM. To me, this means that I not only need to make sure that I have to get MYSELF to school on time, I need to get him there in time to A) find a parking space, B) get him into the building and down the hall to hang up his backpack and jacket, put his folder away, and walk back down the hall to sign up for breakfast C) give him enough time to actually eat breakfast and mingle with friends before class started. What this means to my husband...get him there at 8:14. My first sign should have been when my kid started sprinting from the car to the lunch room and into the breakfast line. Screw the backpack and jacket, he wanted to EAT.

My mornings are chaos. I have 3 backpacks to get ready, double check homework lists and make sure that everything that needs to be packed, is. I have to find mates to shoes and usually find them outside in the back yard. No kidding. I drop my oldest son at his bus stop at about 7:15 and then drive the youngest to school. It's a bit of a trek, but does allow us a lot of time to talk just he and I. Some of the things we talk about...

"Mom, I wish I were a gee-rill (girl)."
"Um, really, Kam? Why?"
"I want to play with ballerinas."
(Awkward silence.)
"Yeah, they have wings. But they're only for gee-rills."
Many thoughts here. He wants to be a ballerina? They have dolls at the school? Do I wait for a subject change?
"Um, dolls, Kam?"
"Yeah (small sigh of relief from mom)."
"Boys can play with dolls, hon. That's okay." No really. It's okay.
"No mom. Only gee-rills. (pause as he sees a white truck that he thinks he's seen before) AGAIN?! Are you kidding me?" Let the conversation go...whew!

Just to elaborate, we also talk about the little girl with glasses in his class. He doesn't know her name. But he knows that during a point in music class, everyone was supposed to high-five someone and nobody high-fived this girl...but he did. I met her and her mother (when he abandoned me for the breakfast line). I said, "This must be the girl Kamrin likes so much." The mom introduced her, and I told her I liked her glasses (which I really did) and then she said, "She talks about Kamrin too." I froze. Oh lord. What does she say? That he threw rocks at her on the playground? And why do I always suspect the worst? (Never mind, I already know.)

We also attended an anniversary party for our daycare providers who were celebrating 10 years. As we were walking in, my oldest pulled a John Travolta "Great Move" by running his hands along each side of his hair and informing me that he needed to, "look good for the ladies."
Yep, he's not egotistical, but he has the dance moves and he knows it. He danced for 2 and a half hours himself...showing off his "moves." Which consist of a lot of gun-finger-pointing, semi-break dancing moves, a hint of 70s disco, and a lot of running around in circles. The boy's shirt and hair were soaked with sweat and he complained his legs hurt at the end of the night. Kam, on the other hand, managed to collect at least 7 of the party favors (boxes filled with M-n-M's) under one of the tables. Hoarder.

I did endure a bunch of crushed toes as I danced with my oldest son, and try to remember some dance moves from my day as he rushed off, half a dance floor away, to do his moves before coming back to grab my hands to do some spins. Seriously. The boy's shirt was soaked and I wasn't about to touch his hair. Only after we got home did he inform me, "Isn't it a good thing a didn't wear underwear mom? They would have been gross!" Um, yeah, okay.

Other random moments included a book about frogs where Kamrin commented on "silly pads." Appropriate. Another attempt at Sunday school even after this. And still no enlightenment on the book of Revelations during adult bible study while I wait for the kids to get done. Still just don't get it. A lot of symbolism.

Oh. I managed to lock myself in a dog kennel. Thank you lord for small hands. (another blog.) No one knows though. Wait. They do now.

Is there a reason my blog is more popular when I don't write?

Anyway, time to go squeeze the bladder of my box of wine for just one more glass (aw, come on, you all do it)...