I took my last final today.
It feels good to know that I'm done with classes for the next 3 weeks, but now I'm in that REALLY horrible state of "limbo" where I only know how I THINK I did on my final exams. And the self-doubt will only continue to grow and grow and GROW until final grades have been posted. With every passing second, I find myself wondering if I could have given more detail on those short-answer essays, or been more clear in my phonetic transcriptions. But I also know that all of that wondering is completely useless at this point. What's done is done, and all I can do is wait. It sucks, let me tell you.
Anyway, now that school and finals are over with, I have to face an old nemesis: laundry. It's been getting more and more out of control over the last couple of weeks as I've tried to wrap up the semester. My whole family has run out of clothes. There is one clean towel in the entire house. I'm wearing my husband's socks because I ran out 3 days ago. Today I went into the basement and nearly broke my ankle tripping over "Blanket Mountain", "T-Shirt Peak", and "Underwear Gorge". I just stood there and looked at the horror show around me, realizing for the first time just how bad things had become. Can you guess what I'm going to be doing for the next few days?
That's right! I'm going to be hiding in an underground bunker trying to invent self-cleaning, self-folding clothing. OH, and I'll be setting a bonfire in our basement to get rid of the evidence of the last few weeks of neglecting my family's laundry needs.
In addition to that, I have several mending projects that I've been meaning to work on for weeks. Including my son's favorite stuffed penguin that he sleeps with every night--that is until a few weeks ago when it got a huge hole under one of its wings. A few weeks before that, his sock monkey got a hole it its armpit as well. OH! And my daughter's giant teddy bear has a huge hole its armpit--basically, if you're a stuffed animal in our house, your armpits are NOT SAFE!!!
So...no more excuses now. I have no more homework. No more dealing with train and bus schedules. No more having to stop sitting on the couch with my 3-year old daughter snuggled up in my lap watching a Tinkerbell movie because I have to drop her off at my mom's house and leave for class. I'm free for 3 weeks. And it's going to be awesome.
We're all decorated for Christmas now. Most of you know that we finished our Christmas shopping back in September--over-achievers that we are. The chiddlers are all sorts of excited about the impending visit from Santa Claus. AJ has decided that The Grinch is her favorite Christmas book AND favorite Christmas movie this year. She can recite it quite impressively.
I'm getting very excited about my yearly reading of Charles Dickens' "A Christmas Carol." Ty's reading it to CT right now, but as soon as they're done I am so there!!! (Yes I'm a huge Charles Dickens nerd, what of it?)
Anyhoo, I think I'll end this particular bout of rambling for now. Here's wishing you all a fabulous week.
Monday, December 10, 2012
Friday, November 16, 2012
The Uninformed, The Competent, and the Cautiously Optimistic...
I think I may have mentioned before my two-year, exasperating struggle with a little jerk called iritis. It's the inflammation of the eyes. It's painful and annoying. When it's out of control, it threatens my vision--left unchecked--it can cause permanent damage. The usual treatment of this problem is an anti-inflammatory steroid eye drop. It is only meant to be used for a few weeks, at which point you are supposed to wean yourself off the drops and your eyes will return to normal. The drops work, they calm the inflammation, but it comes at a price. It messes with the pressure in your eyes, which can lead to glaucoma if left uncontrolled. These drops can also cause cataracts after a few years--and there's nothing that can be done about this.
For two years, I've gone to ophthalmologists for treatment of this problem. All they could do was check my eye pressures and keep refilling my steroid drops. I hate taking those things. I know how dangerous they are for my eyes if taken long-term. But every time I try to stop taking them altogether, my eyes will flare up again. And that's not even the most exasperating part of this whole thing!
NO, the most exasperating thing about the whole situation has been the fact that these doctors had no idea how to help me. They had no ideas for long-term treatment options. Oh sure, they ran some blood tests to check for underlying causes, but when those all came back negative they basically just shrugged their shoulders and said: "Eh. Whadderya gonna do? That'll be $100, not including the costs of the blood tests, x-rays, and CT scan. Oh, and here are your anti-inflammatory steroid drops that you really shouldn't be taking, but--you know--we have no other options to offer you."
Finally, after yet another exasperating encounter with my ophthalmologist, I was talking to Ty about the whole situation. I talked to him about how worried I am about my eyes and the fact that I'm pretty much staring down the very real possibility of vision loss within the next few years--with or without treatment.
Within minutes of this conversation, Ty jumped online and did some research. He found the one place, the one office in Utah where there is an actual iritis specialist. The next day, I had called my ophthalmologist and asked for a referral to this doctor. The doctor looked at the note my doctor sent him, and then sent me to his colleague, who is also a specialist in this ailment--saying he would be a better fit for my particular case. On Wednesday morning, I went and saw him for the first time.
From the moment this doctor stepped into the exam room, I could tell he was different. He looked me in the eyes when he talked to me. He listened to what I was saying, and took notes--taking my personal thoughts and experiences with iritis into account, rather than just nodding along while ignoring everything I said. THEN--now this was the craziest part for me--he started telling me about his PLANS for my treatment. He changed up my medications, adding a few and changing the doses on the steroid drops. Yes, I will still have to take them for a while, but maybe--just maybe--not forever. We're talking LONG-TERM treatment plans! Not just a little band-aid solution that would end up being worse for my eyes in the end.
OH! And then this guy started talking about possible causes for the inflammation, and dietary changes I can make to help reduce the problem. And he also told me that iritis usually just dies out at around the age of 42. I actually left that office with a spark of hope!
Aaahhh...It's amazing what happens when you visit a doctor that knows his stuff.
May you all enjoy your weekend. :)
For two years, I've gone to ophthalmologists for treatment of this problem. All they could do was check my eye pressures and keep refilling my steroid drops. I hate taking those things. I know how dangerous they are for my eyes if taken long-term. But every time I try to stop taking them altogether, my eyes will flare up again. And that's not even the most exasperating part of this whole thing!
NO, the most exasperating thing about the whole situation has been the fact that these doctors had no idea how to help me. They had no ideas for long-term treatment options. Oh sure, they ran some blood tests to check for underlying causes, but when those all came back negative they basically just shrugged their shoulders and said: "Eh. Whadderya gonna do? That'll be $100, not including the costs of the blood tests, x-rays, and CT scan. Oh, and here are your anti-inflammatory steroid drops that you really shouldn't be taking, but--you know--we have no other options to offer you."
Finally, after yet another exasperating encounter with my ophthalmologist, I was talking to Ty about the whole situation. I talked to him about how worried I am about my eyes and the fact that I'm pretty much staring down the very real possibility of vision loss within the next few years--with or without treatment.
Within minutes of this conversation, Ty jumped online and did some research. He found the one place, the one office in Utah where there is an actual iritis specialist. The next day, I had called my ophthalmologist and asked for a referral to this doctor. The doctor looked at the note my doctor sent him, and then sent me to his colleague, who is also a specialist in this ailment--saying he would be a better fit for my particular case. On Wednesday morning, I went and saw him for the first time.
From the moment this doctor stepped into the exam room, I could tell he was different. He looked me in the eyes when he talked to me. He listened to what I was saying, and took notes--taking my personal thoughts and experiences with iritis into account, rather than just nodding along while ignoring everything I said. THEN--now this was the craziest part for me--he started telling me about his PLANS for my treatment. He changed up my medications, adding a few and changing the doses on the steroid drops. Yes, I will still have to take them for a while, but maybe--just maybe--not forever. We're talking LONG-TERM treatment plans! Not just a little band-aid solution that would end up being worse for my eyes in the end.
OH! And then this guy started talking about possible causes for the inflammation, and dietary changes I can make to help reduce the problem. And he also told me that iritis usually just dies out at around the age of 42. I actually left that office with a spark of hope!
Aaahhh...It's amazing what happens when you visit a doctor that knows his stuff.
May you all enjoy your weekend. :)
Saturday, November 3, 2012
Random Stuff and a Bonus Picture...
Halloween was pretty good, a little crazy though. I had class that day, so I didn't get home until dinner time. The family ate a quick dinner, and then we all got into our costumes. Ty took the chiddlers trick-or-treating while I stayed home and handed out the candy.
When they had been gone for about an hour or so, they came back, and we dumped the kids' pillowcases full of candy into two separate bowls, to be sorted through later. (With CT's severe peanut allergy, we have to be very careful about this stuff.) Once this task had been completed, we all headed back out the door to show my parents our costumes. (A yearly tradition.) We got home about and hour and a half after the chiddlers' bed-times. We bathed them both and put them to bed, where they both proceeded to achieve complete unconsciousness in a matter of seconds. (It had been a long day.)
Ty and I then met up downstairs, where we immediately commenced with our own private little Halloween tradition. That's right, we curled up on the couch and watched "The Nightmare Before Christmas." As I mentioned last year, this is something that we have done every year after putting the kids to bed on Halloween night. It's fabulous.
Now it's November, and right now I'm basically using this blog to procrastinate studying for the TWO tests I have to take this week. One is on Monday, and the other is on Wednesday. AAACCCKKK!!! I'm pretty sure my professors are starting to gang up on me now. RUDE!!! Oh well. We gotta do what we gotta do, right? It's hard to believe that after this week I only have one test left for each class before I'm done with the semester.
Come on, people! I'm still getting used to these classes! I'm still getting a feel for my professors and the subjects they're teaching, and now I've only got about 6 weeks of classes left! (Side note: I need to log into the school website and see if I can register for Spring semester yet...)
Anyway, I guess that's enough rambling for one post.
Alright, here's a picture of me in my Halloween costume. (You can't really see it in the picture, but there is a cape attached to the back):
Yeah. You're welcome. Your day is complete now, isn't it?
Thought so.
Anyway, Happy Late Halloween, and an even happier November, everybody! :)
When they had been gone for about an hour or so, they came back, and we dumped the kids' pillowcases full of candy into two separate bowls, to be sorted through later. (With CT's severe peanut allergy, we have to be very careful about this stuff.) Once this task had been completed, we all headed back out the door to show my parents our costumes. (A yearly tradition.) We got home about and hour and a half after the chiddlers' bed-times. We bathed them both and put them to bed, where they both proceeded to achieve complete unconsciousness in a matter of seconds. (It had been a long day.)
Ty and I then met up downstairs, where we immediately commenced with our own private little Halloween tradition. That's right, we curled up on the couch and watched "The Nightmare Before Christmas." As I mentioned last year, this is something that we have done every year after putting the kids to bed on Halloween night. It's fabulous.
Now it's November, and right now I'm basically using this blog to procrastinate studying for the TWO tests I have to take this week. One is on Monday, and the other is on Wednesday. AAACCCKKK!!! I'm pretty sure my professors are starting to gang up on me now. RUDE!!! Oh well. We gotta do what we gotta do, right? It's hard to believe that after this week I only have one test left for each class before I'm done with the semester.
Come on, people! I'm still getting used to these classes! I'm still getting a feel for my professors and the subjects they're teaching, and now I've only got about 6 weeks of classes left! (Side note: I need to log into the school website and see if I can register for Spring semester yet...)
Anyway, I guess that's enough rambling for one post.
Alright, here's a picture of me in my Halloween costume. (You can't really see it in the picture, but there is a cape attached to the back):
Yeah. You're welcome. Your day is complete now, isn't it?
Thought so.
Anyway, Happy Late Halloween, and an even happier November, everybody! :)
Sunday, October 21, 2012
A Post that's Almost as Rare as Unicorns...
**Begin Rant**
You will NEVER see me get political on this blog. Mainly because I REALLY don't care about politics.
Why, you ask?
Because I can't stand the childish, "I'm right, you're wrong" political mentality in this country. It doesn't matter what anyone on one side of the debate has to say about an issue. They can have all the facts in the world on their side, but everyone on the opposite end of the spectrum will immediately discount their arguments as invalid, misled, or dishonest. They don't care about who the person is, or what their background might be. If their opinions are different, they're wrong. Period.
Honestly, I wonder if it's just time to abandon the two-party system altogether. It doesn't work anymore. All it's managed to do in the last few decades is divide our country in a way that only a major shift in thinking will ever reverse. Yeah, we'll see where that goes in the next few decades. Honestly, I'm wondering if another civil war isn't in our future. I am not one of those doomsday types, but think about it. How can the fierce tension between the political parties avoid escalating to large-scale physical violence if it isn't somehow contained?
Sometimes it seems as though there is no common courtesy left. No one seems to care about the feelings of other people anymore. It's all about "I'll say what I wanna say, and I'll do what I wanna do and if you don't like it you can leave. It's my life!" Seriously? You honestly think that what you do doesn't affect the people around you? Your family? Your friends? Even complete strangers?
You seriously think that when you're having a bad day, and you go through a store checkout line and chew out the cashier for some minor mistake, that you haven't affected their day at all? You actually believe that when you're in a hurry, and you run that red light to save five seconds, that you're not putting yourself and everyone else around you in danger?
Please. Get over yourself and look around for a minute. You might be surprised.
You just might see the people around you for what they are: People. Just like you.
In essentials, everyone is exactly like you are. They all care about something--their family, their job, their health. They all have something that they're trying to get done.
They're all just trying to get through this life in one piece, exactly like you.
You honestly believe your problems are bigger or worse than someone else's? Who are you to determine whose pain is the most unbearable? Who are you to dismiss what someone else is going through by comparing their suffering to that of other people? How do you know what's really worse? Can't you just try to listen for one minute and be sympathetic, rather than taking the first opportunity to turn the conversation back to yourself?
I don't really know what has inspired this rant tonight. I honestly didn't intend for things to go this way when I started typing. I guess that's the risk a blogger runs once they sit down and start writing.
Anyway, I'm really not talking about anyone in particular with this post. But a lack of common courtesy sure seems to be the root of a lot of the problems that exist in this world. It's one of my pet peeves. If we would just stop for a minute and look around us, taking into consideration the overall well-being of the people around us BEFORE we speak, BEFORE we act, I honestly believe that we could avoid a LOT of issues.
**End Rant**
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
Holy Crap!!!...
Geez! September just FLEW by!!! What happened?
Freaking 2012. You just can't wait until we're all incinerated on December 21st, can you?
Jerk.
Anyway, a lot happened last month. First off, I GOT A 100% ON THE FIRST EXAM IN MY PHONETICS CLASS!!! Oh yeah. I hung that one up on the fridge. Literally. I was so proud of myself, I couldn't help it. It's been there for 3 weeks, and I have no intentions of moving it anytime soon.
Also, Ty went in for some surgery. It was pretty minor, he had two cysts removed from the back of his neck. He had the stitches removed a couple of days ago. I'm just glad he went in and got the problem taken care of, especially since it turned out that one of those cysts had ruptured and was HORRIBLY infected by the time the surgeon finally took it out. After running some tests, they discovered that the infection was a very rare type of staph. We're all very, VERY glad that the doctor had the good sense to put Ty on antibiotics for two weeks following the surgery. He's doing fine now. He's got some very nice scars (barely noticeable), just in time for Halloween. :)
Oh, and guess what!!! I have officially escaped the evil clutches of my Blackberry!!! That's right, as an early Christmas gift to each other, Ty and I got new phones!!! They're so pretty and shiny. AND I can actually make phone calls and I CAN HEAR EVERY WORD THE OTHER PERSON IS SAYING!!! It's amazing! The camera is 8 megapixels, so I can take fantastic photos with my phone and instantly upload them to the internet!!!
My Blackberry has been aggravating me for over a year now. Hunk of junk. It was evil, I tell you. EEEEVIIILLL!!! I would set alarms to wake me up in the mornings and they wouldn't go off, making my whole family late. It would randomly shut down on me, MID-CONVERSATION for "software and security updates," I would be talking to someone and only be able to hear every 3rd word they said because my phone hated me as much as I hated it. The charger port was loose, so it never got fully charged when I plugged it in. In short, it was time to move on. For both of us. Sorry Blackberry. I just think you should know that it's not me, it's you. I hope we can still remain distant, bitter acquaintances.
A little more bragging: Ty and I are done with our Christmas shopping. Admittedly, it's due far more to Ty's pure, unadulterated organization skills and dedication to avoiding the Christmas season shopping crowds than my own merit. Either way, I'll claim some credit. Because I can. :)
This week is my Fall Break from school. It's been really nice. Nowhere to go--except dropping CT off at school in the morning and picking him up in the afternoon--no homework or tests to study for, no public transportation hassles. Just a full week of staying at home with my sweet little toddler curled up in my lap on the couch watching "Phineas and Ferb" episodes on the DVR and Tinkerbell movies. It's fabulous.
Well, until tomorrow, anyway. There will be one major hassle. Due to chronic iritis in my eyes, I have to take steroid drops on a daily, or semi-daily basis. It sucks, since that crap will eventually give me cataracts, and messes with the pressure in my eyes. I hate it, but they've run every possible test they can come up with, and there's no cure for what I have. Therefore, the drops are my only option to keep the inflammation under control.
Anyway, I've been running low on my meds lately, so I called the pharmacy for a refill. They contacted the doctor's office, and the doctor's office called me. They said they can't and won't refill the prescription until I've seen the doctor and he checks my pressures. Okay, RANTING IMMINENT!!!
What is the point of these people checking the pressures in my eyes? I'm well aware of the dangers that my eyes are in when I take these drops, hence the reason that I am as conservative as I can possibly be about taking them. Why do you have to check my pressures before you can refill this prescription? Is a high pressure reading going to change my prognosis or treatment plan in any way? Probably not. So I have to pay a whole freaking lot of money so you can spend 5 minutes looking at my eyes, say "Yep, those are still screwed up. Go ahead and keep taking your cataract-causing drops and I'll see you again in a few months."
Oh, that was SO helpful doctor! Thanks a bundle! (To be read in very bold sarcasm font.)
I know these people are trying to "do their jobs" or whatever. I also realize that they don't work for free, nor should they. I just don't get why I have to go into their office every freaking time I need a refill. Can't we just figure out a semi-annual visit schedule? I can't afford to do things their way!
Anyway, now I have to go in at the butt-crack of dawn tomorrow morning so I can get a refill on the drops that I have to keep taking in order to avoid having my own eyeballs implode on themselves. In order to accomplish this, I have to drop my son off at my mom's house at "ridiculously early o'clock" so she can take him to school while I go and have my eyes checked. Grrr....SO ANNOYING!!!
Okay, rant over. For now. I make no guarantees about tomorrow...
Alright, I think I've gone on long enough. Thanks for hanging in there! Happy (slightly belated) October, Everybody!!!
Freaking 2012. You just can't wait until we're all incinerated on December 21st, can you?
Jerk.
Anyway, a lot happened last month. First off, I GOT A 100% ON THE FIRST EXAM IN MY PHONETICS CLASS!!! Oh yeah. I hung that one up on the fridge. Literally. I was so proud of myself, I couldn't help it. It's been there for 3 weeks, and I have no intentions of moving it anytime soon.
Also, Ty went in for some surgery. It was pretty minor, he had two cysts removed from the back of his neck. He had the stitches removed a couple of days ago. I'm just glad he went in and got the problem taken care of, especially since it turned out that one of those cysts had ruptured and was HORRIBLY infected by the time the surgeon finally took it out. After running some tests, they discovered that the infection was a very rare type of staph. We're all very, VERY glad that the doctor had the good sense to put Ty on antibiotics for two weeks following the surgery. He's doing fine now. He's got some very nice scars (barely noticeable), just in time for Halloween. :)
Oh, and guess what!!! I have officially escaped the evil clutches of my Blackberry!!! That's right, as an early Christmas gift to each other, Ty and I got new phones!!! They're so pretty and shiny. AND I can actually make phone calls and I CAN HEAR EVERY WORD THE OTHER PERSON IS SAYING!!! It's amazing! The camera is 8 megapixels, so I can take fantastic photos with my phone and instantly upload them to the internet!!!
My Blackberry has been aggravating me for over a year now. Hunk of junk. It was evil, I tell you. EEEEVIIILLL!!! I would set alarms to wake me up in the mornings and they wouldn't go off, making my whole family late. It would randomly shut down on me, MID-CONVERSATION for "software and security updates," I would be talking to someone and only be able to hear every 3rd word they said because my phone hated me as much as I hated it. The charger port was loose, so it never got fully charged when I plugged it in. In short, it was time to move on. For both of us. Sorry Blackberry. I just think you should know that it's not me, it's you. I hope we can still remain distant, bitter acquaintances.
A little more bragging: Ty and I are done with our Christmas shopping. Admittedly, it's due far more to Ty's pure, unadulterated organization skills and dedication to avoiding the Christmas season shopping crowds than my own merit. Either way, I'll claim some credit. Because I can. :)
This week is my Fall Break from school. It's been really nice. Nowhere to go--except dropping CT off at school in the morning and picking him up in the afternoon--no homework or tests to study for, no public transportation hassles. Just a full week of staying at home with my sweet little toddler curled up in my lap on the couch watching "Phineas and Ferb" episodes on the DVR and Tinkerbell movies. It's fabulous.
Well, until tomorrow, anyway. There will be one major hassle. Due to chronic iritis in my eyes, I have to take steroid drops on a daily, or semi-daily basis. It sucks, since that crap will eventually give me cataracts, and messes with the pressure in my eyes. I hate it, but they've run every possible test they can come up with, and there's no cure for what I have. Therefore, the drops are my only option to keep the inflammation under control.
Anyway, I've been running low on my meds lately, so I called the pharmacy for a refill. They contacted the doctor's office, and the doctor's office called me. They said they can't and won't refill the prescription until I've seen the doctor and he checks my pressures. Okay, RANTING IMMINENT!!!
What is the point of these people checking the pressures in my eyes? I'm well aware of the dangers that my eyes are in when I take these drops, hence the reason that I am as conservative as I can possibly be about taking them. Why do you have to check my pressures before you can refill this prescription? Is a high pressure reading going to change my prognosis or treatment plan in any way? Probably not. So I have to pay a whole freaking lot of money so you can spend 5 minutes looking at my eyes, say "Yep, those are still screwed up. Go ahead and keep taking your cataract-causing drops and I'll see you again in a few months."
Oh, that was SO helpful doctor! Thanks a bundle! (To be read in very bold sarcasm font.)
I know these people are trying to "do their jobs" or whatever. I also realize that they don't work for free, nor should they. I just don't get why I have to go into their office every freaking time I need a refill. Can't we just figure out a semi-annual visit schedule? I can't afford to do things their way!
Anyway, now I have to go in at the butt-crack of dawn tomorrow morning so I can get a refill on the drops that I have to keep taking in order to avoid having my own eyeballs implode on themselves. In order to accomplish this, I have to drop my son off at my mom's house at "ridiculously early o'clock" so she can take him to school while I go and have my eyes checked. Grrr....SO ANNOYING!!!
Okay, rant over. For now. I make no guarantees about tomorrow...
Alright, I think I've gone on long enough. Thanks for hanging in there! Happy (slightly belated) October, Everybody!!!
Friday, September 14, 2012
It's Odd, Really...
I've found that, for some unknown reason, I nearly ALWAYS post on Fridays. Just a random fact.
Now, I'm trying to come up with something brilliant to say, but honestly I got nothin'.
Ooh, ooh! I learned some fun random stuff in my classes. Here are a few of them:
1) One of the main reasons that the English language is so confusing is because our spelling system has remained constant over the centuries while pronunciation is always evolving. And really, who is going to go back and re-create our writing/spelling system? NOBODY!!!
2) There are, at any given time, between 6,000 and 7,000 languages in the world, though many of them are actually starting to "die out" as older generations pass on.
3) When we are just naturally breathing--without any conscious effort--the diaphragm goes down. This opens/widens the thoracic (chest) cavity, creating negative pressure in the lungs. In order to neutralize this negative pressure, the lungs fill with oxygen. And then we exhale carbon dioxide.
4) The medical/scientific name for ear wax is cerumen.
5) SLPs have an amazing job, and I love learning more and more about what they do. I only wish I had my license already.
6) Even if your outer ear gets cut off or damaged, you'll still be able to hear at a normal level, you just might have some issues with localizing sound. (Kind of common sense, but still interesting.)
7) There is an International Phonetic Alphabet that is used by SLPs, phoneticians, etc. to clear up the confusion involved with the inconsistencies between the way words are spelled, and the way they are pronounced. In the IPA system, 1 symbol = 1 sound.
8) Spending 6 hours away from my chiddlers two days a week makes me appreciate the time I get to spend with them even more than before.
So, there you have it. Did you learn something new? Do you feel any different than you did before?
You kinda do, don't you?
I know, I know. You're welcome.
Now, I'm trying to come up with something brilliant to say, but honestly I got nothin'.
Ooh, ooh! I learned some fun random stuff in my classes. Here are a few of them:
1) One of the main reasons that the English language is so confusing is because our spelling system has remained constant over the centuries while pronunciation is always evolving. And really, who is going to go back and re-create our writing/spelling system? NOBODY!!!
2) There are, at any given time, between 6,000 and 7,000 languages in the world, though many of them are actually starting to "die out" as older generations pass on.
3) When we are just naturally breathing--without any conscious effort--the diaphragm goes down. This opens/widens the thoracic (chest) cavity, creating negative pressure in the lungs. In order to neutralize this negative pressure, the lungs fill with oxygen. And then we exhale carbon dioxide.
4) The medical/scientific name for ear wax is cerumen.
5) SLPs have an amazing job, and I love learning more and more about what they do. I only wish I had my license already.
6) Even if your outer ear gets cut off or damaged, you'll still be able to hear at a normal level, you just might have some issues with localizing sound. (Kind of common sense, but still interesting.)
7) There is an International Phonetic Alphabet that is used by SLPs, phoneticians, etc. to clear up the confusion involved with the inconsistencies between the way words are spelled, and the way they are pronounced. In the IPA system, 1 symbol = 1 sound.
8) Spending 6 hours away from my chiddlers two days a week makes me appreciate the time I get to spend with them even more than before.
So, there you have it. Did you learn something new? Do you feel any different than you did before?
You kinda do, don't you?
I know, I know. You're welcome.
Friday, August 31, 2012
A Date Which Must Live in Infamy...
So...last weekend Ty took off a few extra days so he could get a bit of a break. He was looking forward to having those 6 days off. And really, why wouldn't he? He could get some things done around the house, and just enjoy some time with the family, right? Don't be so sure.
On his FIRST DAY OFF, we decided that we would take our little family out on the town. CT needed new school clothes, so we planned to go out to lunch and take him shopping. We just had to make one quick stop at the bank to get a couple of cashier's checks to pay some bills. I stayed in the van with the chiddlers while Ty ran inside the bank.
While he was there, I called my long-time friend, Leesh. I'd missed a call from her before we left home, and I was calling her back. We talked for a while, and I invited her to join the family for lunch that day. She said: "Sure! Just call me when you're on your way and I'll meet you somewhere."
Several minutes later, Ty comes out of the bank looking half amused. As he climbs into the van, he says: "So the guy almost didn't give me the checks. Apparently my driver's license expired two months ago."
I was stunned. Ty NEVER forgets to do this kind of stuff! At that moment, I wondered if the world had truly gone mad. Either way, we had to run home and get some of Ty's identification documents so we could go to the Driver's License Division and renew his license.
Once again, I opted to stay in the van with the chiddlers while Ty went inside. After about 15 minutes, (I'd already called Leesh and told her about the unexpected delay), Ty called my cell phone and asked me to run home and get another form of ID for him while he finished up the paperwork and everything. So, I jumped into the driver's seat and headed home.
When I pulled back into the parking lot of the DLD, Ty was outside waiting for me. I gave him the ID, and tried to find a parking space in that tiny, crowded parking lot. I was just trying to turn in to one of them when a weird smell reached my nostrils. I looked out the windshield and noticed that THERE WAS SMOKE COMING FROM UNDER THE HOOD OF THE VAN!!!
I have to admit that I panicked. I ordered CT to get out of his seat and help me get him and AJ out of the van. What if the thing caught fire or blew up or something?
I left the van in the middle of the aisle, only half parked, and ran with the kids over to the lawn next to the building. Ty came out and I explained what was going on. He parked the van, raised the hood, and discovered that the van was literally out of every single fluid known to automobile kind. He called our mechanic and made an appointment to drop the van off the next day. Luckily, there was a Chevron station within walking distance, so he went there to buy the fluids we needed. I called Leesh to tell her that we'd hit yet ANOTHER delay in our lunch plans. I asked her to head in our direction in case we needed a ride home.
Take a deep breath. The day is not over yet.
Ty finally got the van to the point where it didn't seem to be smoking anymore. We headed home, and I called Leesh to ask her to meet us at our house. When we got there, Ty parked the (now smoking) van with great difficulty as the power steering had suddenly decided that it was done working. We picked up our other car, and went to lunch.
After lunch, we made plans to meet Leesh for dinner as well and separated. We then went school clothes shopping for CT. It went well. We got what we needed and on the way home we stopped for gas. As it was a ridiculously hot day, I opened my door to let some air into the car while Ty pumped the gas. CT opened his door as well, so we got a decent cross breeze through the car.
When Ty finished up with everything, he came around and tried to close CT's door. It bounced back at him, refusing to close. He figured that the seat belt or something had just gotten stuck in the doorway, so he checked, and then slammed the door again. It stuck, and we went home.
While we waited for dinner time, the chiddlers played in the family room while I ran upstairs and took a shower. A couple of hours later, we headed to dinner. After parking the car, CT couldn't get out, because his door wasn't opening anymore. Ty finally got it to open, but the friggin' thing wouldn't close again. He sent us ahead to the restaurant while he tried to figure it out.
We had just gotten seated when Ty finally came in to join us. He looked harassed, especially since he still couldn't get the door to close. He asked CT if he had done anything to the door, and the truth came out. Apparently, while we had sat there at the gas station, CT had been messing with the latch on his door and it was in the closed position when Ty tried to close it.
It. Was. Broken.
Yep. Two cars in a matter of hours. It's gotta be some kind of record.
Well...we had dinner. It was good, and we managed to enjoy ourselves. There was live music in the park outside, and we had fun hanging out with Leesh.
At the end of dinner, we faced just one major problem: the only way we could get home was if CT sat in the passenger's seat up front (ILLEGAL), and I sat in his usual spot in the back seat and HELD THE DOOR CLOSED while we drove home. Ty, thinking of the potential difficulties involved with such an arrangement on our usual route, decided to take the back roads. Normally, this isn't a big deal. It only takes a few extra minutes.
But as we all know, this day has been anything but normal.
Unfortunately, there was major road construction taking place on those back roads, and we met up with "Detour" signs. We followed those signs, and found ourselves hopelessly lost in a neighborhood we'd never been to before. Apparently, someone thought it would be HILARIOUS to move some of those "Detour" signs around, hoping to mess with hapless travelers like us. Well, they did a good job. We spent a good 15 minutes driving around in circles before Ty found his way out of that labyrinth. (And there wasn't even a Goblin King!)
During this whole "detour," I was desperately trying to hold that door closed. With every right turn, it was all I could do to keep from falling out of the car.
At long, long last, we got home. Leesh was going to meet us there so we could hang out and just chill for a while. Ty was out in the driveway, literally taking the broken car door apart so he could try and fix it. When Leesh got to our house she helped me get the chiddlers to bed. She also brought chocolate. Let it never be questioned why Leesh and I have been friends for 15 years and counting. She's. Awesome.
In the end, Ty and I decided that the date of August 24th will forever be stricken from our calendar. From now on, it shall just remain a blank space in the year. A day for us to stay in bed and NEVER LEAVE THE HOUSE!!!
It was just one of those days where a lot of small things went wrong, one after the other, adding up to a pretty exasperating day.
ALSO, in case you were wondering, here's what ended up happening with the cars:
Ty managed to get the car door put back together, set up in such a way that it would close. Once. It will never open again. Honestly, this doesn't bother me, since it's at least driveable now and for the most part, it's just Ty's car that he uses to go back and forth from work. You won't find me complaining.
The van went to the mechanic as planned and it turned out to be a pretty minor problem. There was a pin-sized hole in the hose for the power steering fluid that was leaking onto the engine block and burning. That was what the smoking was all about. We're just oh so grateful that it was such an easy and inexpensive fix. (This time around.)
Anyway, hope this upcoming weekend will be a winner for all y'all! (And for us, too!) :)
On his FIRST DAY OFF, we decided that we would take our little family out on the town. CT needed new school clothes, so we planned to go out to lunch and take him shopping. We just had to make one quick stop at the bank to get a couple of cashier's checks to pay some bills. I stayed in the van with the chiddlers while Ty ran inside the bank.
While he was there, I called my long-time friend, Leesh. I'd missed a call from her before we left home, and I was calling her back. We talked for a while, and I invited her to join the family for lunch that day. She said: "Sure! Just call me when you're on your way and I'll meet you somewhere."
Several minutes later, Ty comes out of the bank looking half amused. As he climbs into the van, he says: "So the guy almost didn't give me the checks. Apparently my driver's license expired two months ago."
I was stunned. Ty NEVER forgets to do this kind of stuff! At that moment, I wondered if the world had truly gone mad. Either way, we had to run home and get some of Ty's identification documents so we could go to the Driver's License Division and renew his license.
Once again, I opted to stay in the van with the chiddlers while Ty went inside. After about 15 minutes, (I'd already called Leesh and told her about the unexpected delay), Ty called my cell phone and asked me to run home and get another form of ID for him while he finished up the paperwork and everything. So, I jumped into the driver's seat and headed home.
When I pulled back into the parking lot of the DLD, Ty was outside waiting for me. I gave him the ID, and tried to find a parking space in that tiny, crowded parking lot. I was just trying to turn in to one of them when a weird smell reached my nostrils. I looked out the windshield and noticed that THERE WAS SMOKE COMING FROM UNDER THE HOOD OF THE VAN!!!
I have to admit that I panicked. I ordered CT to get out of his seat and help me get him and AJ out of the van. What if the thing caught fire or blew up or something?
I left the van in the middle of the aisle, only half parked, and ran with the kids over to the lawn next to the building. Ty came out and I explained what was going on. He parked the van, raised the hood, and discovered that the van was literally out of every single fluid known to automobile kind. He called our mechanic and made an appointment to drop the van off the next day. Luckily, there was a Chevron station within walking distance, so he went there to buy the fluids we needed. I called Leesh to tell her that we'd hit yet ANOTHER delay in our lunch plans. I asked her to head in our direction in case we needed a ride home.
Take a deep breath. The day is not over yet.
Ty finally got the van to the point where it didn't seem to be smoking anymore. We headed home, and I called Leesh to ask her to meet us at our house. When we got there, Ty parked the (now smoking) van with great difficulty as the power steering had suddenly decided that it was done working. We picked up our other car, and went to lunch.
After lunch, we made plans to meet Leesh for dinner as well and separated. We then went school clothes shopping for CT. It went well. We got what we needed and on the way home we stopped for gas. As it was a ridiculously hot day, I opened my door to let some air into the car while Ty pumped the gas. CT opened his door as well, so we got a decent cross breeze through the car.
When Ty finished up with everything, he came around and tried to close CT's door. It bounced back at him, refusing to close. He figured that the seat belt or something had just gotten stuck in the doorway, so he checked, and then slammed the door again. It stuck, and we went home.
While we waited for dinner time, the chiddlers played in the family room while I ran upstairs and took a shower. A couple of hours later, we headed to dinner. After parking the car, CT couldn't get out, because his door wasn't opening anymore. Ty finally got it to open, but the friggin' thing wouldn't close again. He sent us ahead to the restaurant while he tried to figure it out.
We had just gotten seated when Ty finally came in to join us. He looked harassed, especially since he still couldn't get the door to close. He asked CT if he had done anything to the door, and the truth came out. Apparently, while we had sat there at the gas station, CT had been messing with the latch on his door and it was in the closed position when Ty tried to close it.
It. Was. Broken.
Yep. Two cars in a matter of hours. It's gotta be some kind of record.
Well...we had dinner. It was good, and we managed to enjoy ourselves. There was live music in the park outside, and we had fun hanging out with Leesh.
At the end of dinner, we faced just one major problem: the only way we could get home was if CT sat in the passenger's seat up front (ILLEGAL), and I sat in his usual spot in the back seat and HELD THE DOOR CLOSED while we drove home. Ty, thinking of the potential difficulties involved with such an arrangement on our usual route, decided to take the back roads. Normally, this isn't a big deal. It only takes a few extra minutes.
But as we all know, this day has been anything but normal.
Unfortunately, there was major road construction taking place on those back roads, and we met up with "Detour" signs. We followed those signs, and found ourselves hopelessly lost in a neighborhood we'd never been to before. Apparently, someone thought it would be HILARIOUS to move some of those "Detour" signs around, hoping to mess with hapless travelers like us. Well, they did a good job. We spent a good 15 minutes driving around in circles before Ty found his way out of that labyrinth. (And there wasn't even a Goblin King!)
During this whole "detour," I was desperately trying to hold that door closed. With every right turn, it was all I could do to keep from falling out of the car.
At long, long last, we got home. Leesh was going to meet us there so we could hang out and just chill for a while. Ty was out in the driveway, literally taking the broken car door apart so he could try and fix it. When Leesh got to our house she helped me get the chiddlers to bed. She also brought chocolate. Let it never be questioned why Leesh and I have been friends for 15 years and counting. She's. Awesome.
In the end, Ty and I decided that the date of August 24th will forever be stricken from our calendar. From now on, it shall just remain a blank space in the year. A day for us to stay in bed and NEVER LEAVE THE HOUSE!!!
It was just one of those days where a lot of small things went wrong, one after the other, adding up to a pretty exasperating day.
ALSO, in case you were wondering, here's what ended up happening with the cars:
Ty managed to get the car door put back together, set up in such a way that it would close. Once. It will never open again. Honestly, this doesn't bother me, since it's at least driveable now and for the most part, it's just Ty's car that he uses to go back and forth from work. You won't find me complaining.
The van went to the mechanic as planned and it turned out to be a pretty minor problem. There was a pin-sized hole in the hose for the power steering fluid that was leaking onto the engine block and burning. That was what the smoking was all about. We're just oh so grateful that it was such an easy and inexpensive fix. (This time around.)
Anyway, hope this upcoming weekend will be a winner for all y'all! (And for us, too!) :)
Thursday, August 23, 2012
My First Week of Class and What I've Learned About Public Transportation...
I started school this week. I've been pretty nervous about it, as I think I've mentioned here before.
The main reason I was nervous is the BIG changes that would have to take place regarding my commuting habits. Because of the difference in traffic, driving to and from campus myself just isn't a very good idea. So...since the University gives its students an ID card that serves as a free UTA pass for all forms of public transportation, I decided that I would do that rather than driving.
Do I have a lot of experience with public transportation? NO. However, it is the best option available to me, so I decided to tackle it. I've spent the last several weeks looking up train routes and figuring out the exact timing and found that I would have to transfer trains twice in order to get to campus. Scary? Yes.
Monday morning, I woke up early and got ready for the day. Then I fixed breakfast (i.e. cold cereal) for myself and the chiddlers and made sure they were both dressed and ready to go to my mom's house. Once I was sure that they were properly set up with all that they needed, I said goodbye and headed for the train station.
Once I got there, I paid very careful attention to all of the signs and everything so I wouldn't get on the wrong freaking train and end up in Reno or something. In the end, I did get on the right train and once I got downtown, I half jogged to catch the light rail train that would take me to the first transfer stop so I could get on the other light rail train that would take me to campus. (Confused yet? Me too.)
I was as nervous as a 5-year-old on the first day of Kindergarten. When the light rail train started moving in (what I perceived to be) the wrong direction, I asked the lady that was sitting across from me: "This is the southbound route, right?" She nodded, smiling kindly.
When we got to the transfer station, I had another lady help me know which way I had to go. She was super nice to me, and very patient with the fact that I was so ridiculously nervous. Anyway, I got to campus just fine, and I started walking. I'd looked at the online map of campus, and knew which direction I wanted to go. I started following a sidewalk up the middle of a road, and got just a bit upset when that sidewalk began to get thinner and thinner until it...DISAPPEARED.
So I was walking in the middle of the road. I figured that was a bad idea when I saw all the cars coming toward my face, so I crossed over to another sidewalk and kept walking. Oh, don't worry. That sidewalk narrowed and disappeared too!!!
At this point, I couldn't really turn back and try a different route, so I just kept walking along the narrow curb at the side of the road as the cars kept coming toward me. I got to my building in one piece, and then I instantly headed for the bathroom because I was SWEATING BULLETS. It was freaking hot outside, I'd been walking uphill, AND I had only just escaped a brush with death. I got some cool, wet paper towels and mopped up my face and neck, trying desperately to cool off. As I exited the bathroom and headed for my class, a glorious vision was presented to my eyes. A Coke machine!!! I took advantage of that opportunity as quickly as possible and went to sit in the hall outside my classroom while I drank the sweet elixir of life that is Coke.
When class started, I sat in my desk and listened to my professor talk about the fascinating subject that is Phonetics. I know I'm going to love it as the semester goes on. My professor is super-knowledgeable and you can tell that he really enjoys the subject he teaches.
My next class (Intro. to Communication Sciences and Disorders) was just down the hall, so we all got there about 15 minutes before the professor did. She's really great. Very experienced in the field of Speech and Language Pathology, and she loves her subject, too. I also like our class, as we are all very open and opinionated and we have really great class discussions. My professor loves this, and encourages these discussions as much as possible.
Class got out a few minutes early, so I got a cold water bottle (because I was super-parched) and headed back down to the train station so I could take the exact same route I followed to get to class, just--you know--in reverse.
I got home in one piece, and found Ty and the chiddlers all there waiting for me. (His shift had ended a couple of hours early, so he'd picked them up from my mom's.) I hugged them all, thrilled to be with them again after such a long day away. Then I made a quick dinner and started to wind down.
And that was just DAY ONE!!!
Yesterday, the public transportation thing was nowhere nearly as nerve-wracking as it was on Monday since I knew what to expect. Class was fabulous, as well. More great class discussions, and yes, another Coke.
When I was almost home again after class, Ty called and asked if I was close to home yet. I said I was about five minutes away, and then he said: "Okay, well there's dinner here for you when you get here."
HOW FREAKING AWESOME IS MY HUSBAND? He ordered pizza and had it delivered just minutes before I got home. A perfect end to a fabulous day!
Now, I'm going to go ahead and tell you all a few things that I've learned about public transportation:
1) It's not that weird. A lot of people take public transportation every day.
2) It's easier than you think. Just scan your pass before you get on and then ride the train to where you need to go. Just make sure you know where you are.
3) You are going to experience a LOT of different smells when you get on one of those trains. Some of them are fine, you know, perfumes, aftershave, shampoo, laundry. Then there are those smells that you can ONLY experience on public transit. In just the last week, I've caught a few whiffs of the most extraordinary B.O. that I have ever smelled. I'm not talking about someone who's just had a sweaty day and is headed home for a shower. I'm talking about the kind of B.O. that comes from a lifetime of refusing to use any kind of deodorant or soap. I'm pretty sure that every single hair that used to be inside my nose has been burned away by the smell that was coming off some of these people.
4) There are some amazingly nice people out there. On Wednesday afternoon, as I was heading for class when I witnessed something really...well...impressive. I had just taken my seat on the first leg of my in-city light rail trip, when the seat directly across from me was taken by a young, African American man. He was wearing one of those "wife beaters" and had tattoos all up and down his arms. I kind of nodded to him as he sat down, and then he turned and started talking to his friend across the aisle. His friend was just as muscular and tattooed as he was, and he had long dreadlocks. They both looked like those "tough guy" types. They talked and laughed as we rattled along the streets when we came to the first stop on our route. A few people came on, and one of them was a man who looked nothing short of exhausted and harassed in every way.
The guy with dreadlocks immediately stood up and said: "Man, you look tired. Take my seat, you need to sit down." I was so impressed with this simple gesture, I couldn't help smiling a little to myself. The tired-looking guy found a different seat, but thanked the dreadlocks guy all the same.
A couple of stops later, two women--a young mom and her mother--were trying to get off the train. They had two young kids with them, probably aged 3 and 5, and a small baby. The mother got off the train with the kids, and the grandmother was trying to wrestle a big stroller when the doors closed on her. Dreadlocks Guy immediately jumped up, pushed the button to open the door for her, and carried the stroller off the train before coming back to his seat. I felt tears in my eyes, I was so touched by this guy's genuinely concerned nature. He helped others with absolutely no hesitation. Basically, he single-handedly restored my faith in humanity.
All in all, my first week of class has been great. Very educational, in more ways than one. You'll probably be hearing more about my experiences this semester, so stay tuned.
Anyway, I'm going to go ahead and finish off this ridiculously long post. Thanks for pushing your way through to the end! :)
The main reason I was nervous is the BIG changes that would have to take place regarding my commuting habits. Because of the difference in traffic, driving to and from campus myself just isn't a very good idea. So...since the University gives its students an ID card that serves as a free UTA pass for all forms of public transportation, I decided that I would do that rather than driving.
Do I have a lot of experience with public transportation? NO. However, it is the best option available to me, so I decided to tackle it. I've spent the last several weeks looking up train routes and figuring out the exact timing and found that I would have to transfer trains twice in order to get to campus. Scary? Yes.
Monday morning, I woke up early and got ready for the day. Then I fixed breakfast (i.e. cold cereal) for myself and the chiddlers and made sure they were both dressed and ready to go to my mom's house. Once I was sure that they were properly set up with all that they needed, I said goodbye and headed for the train station.
Once I got there, I paid very careful attention to all of the signs and everything so I wouldn't get on the wrong freaking train and end up in Reno or something. In the end, I did get on the right train and once I got downtown, I half jogged to catch the light rail train that would take me to the first transfer stop so I could get on the other light rail train that would take me to campus. (Confused yet? Me too.)
I was as nervous as a 5-year-old on the first day of Kindergarten. When the light rail train started moving in (what I perceived to be) the wrong direction, I asked the lady that was sitting across from me: "This is the southbound route, right?" She nodded, smiling kindly.
When we got to the transfer station, I had another lady help me know which way I had to go. She was super nice to me, and very patient with the fact that I was so ridiculously nervous. Anyway, I got to campus just fine, and I started walking. I'd looked at the online map of campus, and knew which direction I wanted to go. I started following a sidewalk up the middle of a road, and got just a bit upset when that sidewalk began to get thinner and thinner until it...DISAPPEARED.
So I was walking in the middle of the road. I figured that was a bad idea when I saw all the cars coming toward my face, so I crossed over to another sidewalk and kept walking. Oh, don't worry. That sidewalk narrowed and disappeared too!!!
At this point, I couldn't really turn back and try a different route, so I just kept walking along the narrow curb at the side of the road as the cars kept coming toward me. I got to my building in one piece, and then I instantly headed for the bathroom because I was SWEATING BULLETS. It was freaking hot outside, I'd been walking uphill, AND I had only just escaped a brush with death. I got some cool, wet paper towels and mopped up my face and neck, trying desperately to cool off. As I exited the bathroom and headed for my class, a glorious vision was presented to my eyes. A Coke machine!!! I took advantage of that opportunity as quickly as possible and went to sit in the hall outside my classroom while I drank the sweet elixir of life that is Coke.
When class started, I sat in my desk and listened to my professor talk about the fascinating subject that is Phonetics. I know I'm going to love it as the semester goes on. My professor is super-knowledgeable and you can tell that he really enjoys the subject he teaches.
My next class (Intro. to Communication Sciences and Disorders) was just down the hall, so we all got there about 15 minutes before the professor did. She's really great. Very experienced in the field of Speech and Language Pathology, and she loves her subject, too. I also like our class, as we are all very open and opinionated and we have really great class discussions. My professor loves this, and encourages these discussions as much as possible.
Class got out a few minutes early, so I got a cold water bottle (because I was super-parched) and headed back down to the train station so I could take the exact same route I followed to get to class, just--you know--in reverse.
I got home in one piece, and found Ty and the chiddlers all there waiting for me. (His shift had ended a couple of hours early, so he'd picked them up from my mom's.) I hugged them all, thrilled to be with them again after such a long day away. Then I made a quick dinner and started to wind down.
And that was just DAY ONE!!!
Yesterday, the public transportation thing was nowhere nearly as nerve-wracking as it was on Monday since I knew what to expect. Class was fabulous, as well. More great class discussions, and yes, another Coke.
When I was almost home again after class, Ty called and asked if I was close to home yet. I said I was about five minutes away, and then he said: "Okay, well there's dinner here for you when you get here."
HOW FREAKING AWESOME IS MY HUSBAND? He ordered pizza and had it delivered just minutes before I got home. A perfect end to a fabulous day!
Now, I'm going to go ahead and tell you all a few things that I've learned about public transportation:
1) It's not that weird. A lot of people take public transportation every day.
2) It's easier than you think. Just scan your pass before you get on and then ride the train to where you need to go. Just make sure you know where you are.
3) You are going to experience a LOT of different smells when you get on one of those trains. Some of them are fine, you know, perfumes, aftershave, shampoo, laundry. Then there are those smells that you can ONLY experience on public transit. In just the last week, I've caught a few whiffs of the most extraordinary B.O. that I have ever smelled. I'm not talking about someone who's just had a sweaty day and is headed home for a shower. I'm talking about the kind of B.O. that comes from a lifetime of refusing to use any kind of deodorant or soap. I'm pretty sure that every single hair that used to be inside my nose has been burned away by the smell that was coming off some of these people.
4) There are some amazingly nice people out there. On Wednesday afternoon, as I was heading for class when I witnessed something really...well...impressive. I had just taken my seat on the first leg of my in-city light rail trip, when the seat directly across from me was taken by a young, African American man. He was wearing one of those "wife beaters" and had tattoos all up and down his arms. I kind of nodded to him as he sat down, and then he turned and started talking to his friend across the aisle. His friend was just as muscular and tattooed as he was, and he had long dreadlocks. They both looked like those "tough guy" types. They talked and laughed as we rattled along the streets when we came to the first stop on our route. A few people came on, and one of them was a man who looked nothing short of exhausted and harassed in every way.
The guy with dreadlocks immediately stood up and said: "Man, you look tired. Take my seat, you need to sit down." I was so impressed with this simple gesture, I couldn't help smiling a little to myself. The tired-looking guy found a different seat, but thanked the dreadlocks guy all the same.
A couple of stops later, two women--a young mom and her mother--were trying to get off the train. They had two young kids with them, probably aged 3 and 5, and a small baby. The mother got off the train with the kids, and the grandmother was trying to wrestle a big stroller when the doors closed on her. Dreadlocks Guy immediately jumped up, pushed the button to open the door for her, and carried the stroller off the train before coming back to his seat. I felt tears in my eyes, I was so touched by this guy's genuinely concerned nature. He helped others with absolutely no hesitation. Basically, he single-handedly restored my faith in humanity.
All in all, my first week of class has been great. Very educational, in more ways than one. You'll probably be hearing more about my experiences this semester, so stay tuned.
Anyway, I'm going to go ahead and finish off this ridiculously long post. Thanks for pushing your way through to the end! :)
Monday, August 20, 2012
The Big Chop of 2012...
Yes people. It has happened. I got the Big Hair Chop on Saturday afternoon.
In the end I couldn't pick just one picture to pattern the cut after, so I brought two and we worked out a nice hybrid hairstyle between them.
Don't worry, I've got pictures!!!
This is me, before the massacre (Ha! My hair doesn't even know what's coming!)
This is the floor at the salon during and after the massacre. (Oh the humanity!!!)
And finally, the result of The Big Chop of 2012. I'm pretty freaking happy with it, and I'm still playing with the styling to see what I like best.
And that's what happens when Candice gets sick of her boring bob and decides to shake things up a bit. Woot! :)
In the end I couldn't pick just one picture to pattern the cut after, so I brought two and we worked out a nice hybrid hairstyle between them.
Don't worry, I've got pictures!!!
This is me, before the massacre (Ha! My hair doesn't even know what's coming!)
This is the floor at the salon during and after the massacre. (Oh the humanity!!!)
And finally, the result of The Big Chop of 2012. I'm pretty freaking happy with it, and I'm still playing with the styling to see what I like best.
And that's what happens when Candice gets sick of her boring bob and decides to shake things up a bit. Woot! :)
Saturday, August 11, 2012
It's Time...
True, it may be later than usual. True, we're within a month of saying goodbye to the season where this choice actually makes sense, but I don't really care at the moment.
That's right. I'm chopping my hair off again.
I've never been able to tolerate my hair getting much longer than shoulder length. Not since the 7th grade. Nowadays, I usually grow it out over the Fall and Winter months and hack it off sometime in the Spring. For some reason, this irresistible itch has overcome me at the end of the Summer this year. I'm basically going through my usual pattern...in reverse.
I always know when it's time for a serious encounter with a pair of scissors when I stop styling my hair on a regular basis. It always ends up spending the entire day wet from the shower, and pulled back into an elastic or clip. It takes too freaking long to dry. I'm a mom! Do I have 30 minutes to fuss over my hair in the morning? NO!
And now my hair doesn't style easily anymore because it's all dry and unhealthy from the time I've spent at the pool this summer. AND...well...it's just time for a change. This is nothing new. As I mentioned before, I do this on a regular basis. However, I AM changing things up a bit in that I'm looking at making my hair even shorter than I usually do.
Normally, I go with this longer, shaggier cut. It's kind of my old standby. I've loved it. (For the source of this image, just Google "Nora Zehetner")
But this time around, I'm looking at something closer to this. I freaking LOVE her hair!!!... (For the source of this image, Google "Ginnifer Goodwin".)
Either way, that's where my mind is.
And yes, Ty's used to this little quirk of mine. It's just a good thing he doesn't care how long my hair is or isn't...or maybe he just knows that I'm going to do what I want to do anyway.
He's always said: "It's your hair, do whatever you want. You'll be beautiful no matter what."
Smart man, that husband of mine. Happy Weekend, Everybody!
That's right. I'm chopping my hair off again.
I've never been able to tolerate my hair getting much longer than shoulder length. Not since the 7th grade. Nowadays, I usually grow it out over the Fall and Winter months and hack it off sometime in the Spring. For some reason, this irresistible itch has overcome me at the end of the Summer this year. I'm basically going through my usual pattern...in reverse.
I always know when it's time for a serious encounter with a pair of scissors when I stop styling my hair on a regular basis. It always ends up spending the entire day wet from the shower, and pulled back into an elastic or clip. It takes too freaking long to dry. I'm a mom! Do I have 30 minutes to fuss over my hair in the morning? NO!
And now my hair doesn't style easily anymore because it's all dry and unhealthy from the time I've spent at the pool this summer. AND...well...it's just time for a change. This is nothing new. As I mentioned before, I do this on a regular basis. However, I AM changing things up a bit in that I'm looking at making my hair even shorter than I usually do.
Normally, I go with this longer, shaggier cut. It's kind of my old standby. I've loved it. (For the source of this image, just Google "Nora Zehetner")
But this time around, I'm looking at something closer to this. I freaking LOVE her hair!!!... (For the source of this image, Google "Ginnifer Goodwin".)
Either way, that's where my mind is.
And yes, Ty's used to this little quirk of mine. It's just a good thing he doesn't care how long my hair is or isn't...or maybe he just knows that I'm going to do what I want to do anyway.
He's always said: "It's your hair, do whatever you want. You'll be beautiful no matter what."
Smart man, that husband of mine. Happy Weekend, Everybody!
Friday, August 3, 2012
Random, Neurotic, Paranoid Rambling...(Seriously, what else do you expect from me at this point?)
So, I'm kind of freaking out. School starts for me in just over two weeks. I will be starting a challenging and competitive program. It's going to be tough, and I'm half terrified. I think I'm scared mainly because I'm heading into a big Unknown.
I'm transferring to a new school. One of the best Universities in the Western United States. I've been going to a University that's great, but the standards for excellence between these two Universities is so very, very different. It's a step up, and I'm just not sure I'm ready for that yet.
Not only will I be going to this new school and trying to get used to the atmosphere there, I will be starting a new, very specific program. The whole point of this Bachelor's Degree is to prepare me for the EXTREMELY intensive Master's Degree program that will turn me into a licensed Speech and Language Pathologist.
Oh, AND I'm going to be doing all of this while still trying to be a good mom to my two kids, and a good wife to my poor husband, who has already resigned himself to the fact that his wife will basically be a complete lunatic for the next 6 years.
Yes, you read that right. Six. Years.
Normally, this whole thing--Bachelor's Degree through Master's Degree--only takes 4 years once your generals are done. My generals are done, but in the interest of maintaining some semblance of sanity AND keeping my grades up to my usual standard, I've decided to only go part-time until I finish my Bachelor's degree. At that point, AJ will be entering 1st Grade, and will therefore be in school full-time with her big brother. That means Mommy will be able to devote those school hours to her Master's Degree program with minimal guilt. It's a good plan, but thinking about those 6 years of schooling is pretty daunting, especially when I haven't even started yet.
BUT, setting all of the blind terror aside, I'm REALLY excited to be starting school again. I LOVE it. I really do. It's like crack to me. I can't get enough. I'm so looking forward to this, and I will probably keep geeking out about it on a regular basis, especially once my new classes start, so brace yourselves.
Oddly enough, my son won't be starting school until after Labor Day this year. It's some new brilliant idea that the geniuses that run the school district have come up with. I'm still not sure how I feel about it. Crazy people.
Oh, and I also want to thank those of you who gave me so much encouragement and support after my latest confession. It's good to know there are so many people out there that could use the services of book pushers like me.
Okay, this rant has gone on long enough. Happy Weekend Everybody!
I'm transferring to a new school. One of the best Universities in the Western United States. I've been going to a University that's great, but the standards for excellence between these two Universities is so very, very different. It's a step up, and I'm just not sure I'm ready for that yet.
Not only will I be going to this new school and trying to get used to the atmosphere there, I will be starting a new, very specific program. The whole point of this Bachelor's Degree is to prepare me for the EXTREMELY intensive Master's Degree program that will turn me into a licensed Speech and Language Pathologist.
Oh, AND I'm going to be doing all of this while still trying to be a good mom to my two kids, and a good wife to my poor husband, who has already resigned himself to the fact that his wife will basically be a complete lunatic for the next 6 years.
Yes, you read that right. Six. Years.
Normally, this whole thing--Bachelor's Degree through Master's Degree--only takes 4 years once your generals are done. My generals are done, but in the interest of maintaining some semblance of sanity AND keeping my grades up to my usual standard, I've decided to only go part-time until I finish my Bachelor's degree. At that point, AJ will be entering 1st Grade, and will therefore be in school full-time with her big brother. That means Mommy will be able to devote those school hours to her Master's Degree program with minimal guilt. It's a good plan, but thinking about those 6 years of schooling is pretty daunting, especially when I haven't even started yet.
BUT, setting all of the blind terror aside, I'm REALLY excited to be starting school again. I LOVE it. I really do. It's like crack to me. I can't get enough. I'm so looking forward to this, and I will probably keep geeking out about it on a regular basis, especially once my new classes start, so brace yourselves.
Oddly enough, my son won't be starting school until after Labor Day this year. It's some new brilliant idea that the geniuses that run the school district have come up with. I'm still not sure how I feel about it. Crazy people.
Oh, and I also want to thank those of you who gave me so much encouragement and support after my latest confession. It's good to know there are so many people out there that could use the services of book pushers like me.
Okay, this rant has gone on long enough. Happy Weekend Everybody!
Sunday, July 22, 2012
A Confession...
It's high time you all learned something very important about me. This isn't easy for me to admit, because I've been in denial for years.
I'm a...book pusher. (Covers face with hands, and turns away.)
That's right. If you come to my house asking me to recommend a good book, I will take you into my basement, pull you over to my overflowing book shelves, and immediately start loading your arms with books.
Victorian classics. Alexandre Dumas. Mark Twain. Roald Dahl. Dan Brown. Orson Scott Card. Even a few books that aren't particularly well-written, but are still fun to read. Every book that comes across my hands that I've read and enjoyed, I will gladly shove into your hands and insist that you read them all.
I will always take into account what I know of your personal taste, and use it to guide my selections, but it's pretty much impossible to leave that basement without AT LEAST half a dozen books. And THAT'S only if you stop me before I can push any more on you.
This is something that my sister, MN, has learned in all her years of being related to me (as well as a fellow bookworm.) She knows that if she comes to me and asks to borrow a book, she will NOT be disappointed. She just expects me to get that manic glint in my eye and basically start throwing dozens of books at her. She loves it.
However my youngest sister, Nel, has never experienced this side of me before a few weeks ago. She and MN asked me if they could borrow some books, so I brought them both into my basement. I was in a flurry of excitement, because there are SO MANY wonderful books that Nel has never read before!!! She was new blood!
I think I may have frightened her a bit. I barely noticed how wide her eyes were getting as I kept adding more and more books to her ever-growing pile. MN, being a veteran of my literary lunacy, (and having a large book pile of her own to deal with) finally had to step in and say, "I think she's got enough to keep her busy for a while, Candice."
I slowed down, hesitantly coming out of my mania. I led my sisters upstairs, wondering if I could just run back down and grab a few more books...but I resisted. I knew that I had done well, though. Both of my sisters were practically stumbling under the weight of the books I had found for them. Yep. I did good.
Ahhhh...the joy of book pushing. It's an addiction, but an oh-so-enjoyable one.
So now you know. You have been warned.
However, if you're in the area, and you're feeling brave enough, feel free to drop by.
Just make sure to return the books once you've finished reading them. :)
I'm a...book pusher. (Covers face with hands, and turns away.)
That's right. If you come to my house asking me to recommend a good book, I will take you into my basement, pull you over to my overflowing book shelves, and immediately start loading your arms with books.
Victorian classics. Alexandre Dumas. Mark Twain. Roald Dahl. Dan Brown. Orson Scott Card. Even a few books that aren't particularly well-written, but are still fun to read. Every book that comes across my hands that I've read and enjoyed, I will gladly shove into your hands and insist that you read them all.
I will always take into account what I know of your personal taste, and use it to guide my selections, but it's pretty much impossible to leave that basement without AT LEAST half a dozen books. And THAT'S only if you stop me before I can push any more on you.
This is something that my sister, MN, has learned in all her years of being related to me (as well as a fellow bookworm.) She knows that if she comes to me and asks to borrow a book, she will NOT be disappointed. She just expects me to get that manic glint in my eye and basically start throwing dozens of books at her. She loves it.
However my youngest sister, Nel, has never experienced this side of me before a few weeks ago. She and MN asked me if they could borrow some books, so I brought them both into my basement. I was in a flurry of excitement, because there are SO MANY wonderful books that Nel has never read before!!! She was new blood!
I think I may have frightened her a bit. I barely noticed how wide her eyes were getting as I kept adding more and more books to her ever-growing pile. MN, being a veteran of my literary lunacy, (and having a large book pile of her own to deal with) finally had to step in and say, "I think she's got enough to keep her busy for a while, Candice."
I slowed down, hesitantly coming out of my mania. I led my sisters upstairs, wondering if I could just run back down and grab a few more books...but I resisted. I knew that I had done well, though. Both of my sisters were practically stumbling under the weight of the books I had found for them. Yep. I did good.
Ahhhh...the joy of book pushing. It's an addiction, but an oh-so-enjoyable one.
So now you know. You have been warned.
However, if you're in the area, and you're feeling brave enough, feel free to drop by.
Just make sure to return the books once you've finished reading them. :)
Saturday, July 14, 2012
I'm Melting!!!...MELTIIINNNG...!!!
So...this Tuesday was Ty's Summer work party at Lagoon. We went last year, and it was super fun, despite the fact that my evil Teva sandals decided to turn on me. They blistered the bottoms of my feet!!! I had to throw them away, banishing them for their disloyalty.
I'll admit I was a bit apprehensive about this year's Lagoon day. The weather here in Utah has been unbearably hot, and Tuesday's weather was only going to be hotter. Ick.
Now, there's something you should know about me if you don't already: I. Do. NOT. Do. Well. In. The Heat.
At all.
Seriously, anything over 85 degrees Fahrenheit will make me feel like that Nazi at the end of "Raiders of the Lost Ark" when he opened the Ark of the Covenant. Not okay. So of course the hottest day of the year thus far is the day I will be outside at an amusement park all day long. Figures.
HOWEVER, I decided ahead of time that I was going to say "Screw you" to Mother Nature and make the most of the day. That's right, I was going to have fun and no amount of crazy heat was going to stop me!!!
As she is too young to go on any of the rides at Lagoon, AJ spent the day at my mom's house. My little sister (henceforth to be known as "Nel"), took AJ's ticket and came with us to the park. When we got to Lagoon, we found the pavilion that Ty's company had reserved for the big party and got some lunch. Then we started the big trek around the park.
CT had the time of his life, as he is now tall enough to go on most of the best rides at Lagoon. We went from one end of the park to the other, taking note of everyone's favorite rides so we could do the whole park and then re-do the best ones later.
I am proud to say that, due to my intense mental preparation, I did very well in spite of the heat. I was cheerful and had a ton of fun. Our group made sure to visit the party pavilion several times. We got water, snow cones, and anything else we needed to get some relief from the heat of the day before going back out to enjoy more of the park.
Once we'd finished our first round of the park, and were starting our second time through our favorite rides when I started to feel...not quite right. My head was feeling heavy, but I ignored it an went on two more rides. This was a mistake. With every upside down turn of the roller coaster, with every sharp turn on the track, I felt even more dizzy and started seeing spots before my eyes.
We were in line for another ride when I kind of hit a wall. I couldn't stand up straight anymore, my head was spinning and aching. I was nauseated, but not with motion sickness. My heart was racing, and I felt completely winded, as though I'd been sprinting across the park, rather than walking.
Ty noticed that I wasn't doing well. "Are you okay?"
I shook my head, "I don't feel very well at all."
Ty was worried now, "Is it heat stroke or something?" (He knows how badly I do in extreme heat.)
I shook my head, "No, I don't think so. I just need to sit down."
Since CT REALLY wanted to go on the ride with his dad, Nel volunteered to stay with me. We found a bench in the shade, and I started to feel a little less terrible. I sat out for the next couple of rides, and then we all headed back to the pavilion for the raffle drawing that Ty's company has every year.
I sat in the shade and sipped Coca Cola. It settled my stomach, cooled me down a bit, and the caffeine helped with my headache. After the drawing started, Nel got a text message from Mom, reminding her about a service project she was supposed to be helping with that night. Mom offered to come and get Nel, since Ty had to stay for the drawing and it was going to take a while.
Ty turned to me, "Do you want to go with her? You can get cooled off and rest, and CT and I can stay and go on a few more rides before we come home."
I liked that idea, so I walked out of the park with Nel, and Mom came and picked us up. I told her about how I hadn't been feeling well and she got worried. "Do you think it was heat stroke? It got up to 103 today!"
Okay, question: Why do people instantly go to heat stroke? I'm pretty sure it was a simple case of heat exhaustion, but that's hardly the same thing, is it?
I gathered up AJ and all of her stuff and Mom took us home. When she dropped us off, Mom kept asking: "Are you sure you're OK? You just call me if you need anything." My mom is so freaking awesome.
I assured her I would be alright, but promised to let her know if I wasn't.
When I walked inside our house, I heaved a sigh of relief. Oh that glorious, GLORIOUS air conditioner!!! I was in heaven!
I took AJ to her crib and gave her some toys and books to keep her busy while I took a shower. When I got out of the shower, Ty called.
"Hey, do you know anyone who needs a 32" flat screen TV?"
Yep, he won the biggest prize in the drawing! He came home just long enough to drop it off, and then he and CT went back to Lagoon to finish out the evening.
I have to give Ty some big Dad Kudos here. When he dropped off that TV, he was clearly, visibly exhausted. But he had promised CT that they would go back to the park, and he kept that promise. Yeah, he's the best.
I had some dinner, put AJ to bed, and tried to wind down from the day. I couldn't sit still, though. I tidied up the house, did the dishes, and waited for my boys to come home. When they did, I immediately got CT into the shower and put him to bed while Ty got all cleaned up.
It was a crazy day, and I'm looking forward to doing it again next year.
But...can someone talk to Mother Nature and somehow convince her to put out a few clouds for the sun to hide behind that day? That would be great, thanks.
I'll admit I was a bit apprehensive about this year's Lagoon day. The weather here in Utah has been unbearably hot, and Tuesday's weather was only going to be hotter. Ick.
Now, there's something you should know about me if you don't already: I. Do. NOT. Do. Well. In. The Heat.
At all.
Seriously, anything over 85 degrees Fahrenheit will make me feel like that Nazi at the end of "Raiders of the Lost Ark" when he opened the Ark of the Covenant. Not okay. So of course the hottest day of the year thus far is the day I will be outside at an amusement park all day long. Figures.
HOWEVER, I decided ahead of time that I was going to say "Screw you" to Mother Nature and make the most of the day. That's right, I was going to have fun and no amount of crazy heat was going to stop me!!!
As she is too young to go on any of the rides at Lagoon, AJ spent the day at my mom's house. My little sister (henceforth to be known as "Nel"), took AJ's ticket and came with us to the park. When we got to Lagoon, we found the pavilion that Ty's company had reserved for the big party and got some lunch. Then we started the big trek around the park.
CT had the time of his life, as he is now tall enough to go on most of the best rides at Lagoon. We went from one end of the park to the other, taking note of everyone's favorite rides so we could do the whole park and then re-do the best ones later.
I am proud to say that, due to my intense mental preparation, I did very well in spite of the heat. I was cheerful and had a ton of fun. Our group made sure to visit the party pavilion several times. We got water, snow cones, and anything else we needed to get some relief from the heat of the day before going back out to enjoy more of the park.
Once we'd finished our first round of the park, and were starting our second time through our favorite rides when I started to feel...not quite right. My head was feeling heavy, but I ignored it an went on two more rides. This was a mistake. With every upside down turn of the roller coaster, with every sharp turn on the track, I felt even more dizzy and started seeing spots before my eyes.
We were in line for another ride when I kind of hit a wall. I couldn't stand up straight anymore, my head was spinning and aching. I was nauseated, but not with motion sickness. My heart was racing, and I felt completely winded, as though I'd been sprinting across the park, rather than walking.
Ty noticed that I wasn't doing well. "Are you okay?"
I shook my head, "I don't feel very well at all."
Ty was worried now, "Is it heat stroke or something?" (He knows how badly I do in extreme heat.)
I shook my head, "No, I don't think so. I just need to sit down."
Since CT REALLY wanted to go on the ride with his dad, Nel volunteered to stay with me. We found a bench in the shade, and I started to feel a little less terrible. I sat out for the next couple of rides, and then we all headed back to the pavilion for the raffle drawing that Ty's company has every year.
I sat in the shade and sipped Coca Cola. It settled my stomach, cooled me down a bit, and the caffeine helped with my headache. After the drawing started, Nel got a text message from Mom, reminding her about a service project she was supposed to be helping with that night. Mom offered to come and get Nel, since Ty had to stay for the drawing and it was going to take a while.
Ty turned to me, "Do you want to go with her? You can get cooled off and rest, and CT and I can stay and go on a few more rides before we come home."
I liked that idea, so I walked out of the park with Nel, and Mom came and picked us up. I told her about how I hadn't been feeling well and she got worried. "Do you think it was heat stroke? It got up to 103 today!"
Okay, question: Why do people instantly go to heat stroke? I'm pretty sure it was a simple case of heat exhaustion, but that's hardly the same thing, is it?
I gathered up AJ and all of her stuff and Mom took us home. When she dropped us off, Mom kept asking: "Are you sure you're OK? You just call me if you need anything." My mom is so freaking awesome.
I assured her I would be alright, but promised to let her know if I wasn't.
When I walked inside our house, I heaved a sigh of relief. Oh that glorious, GLORIOUS air conditioner!!! I was in heaven!
I took AJ to her crib and gave her some toys and books to keep her busy while I took a shower. When I got out of the shower, Ty called.
"Hey, do you know anyone who needs a 32" flat screen TV?"
Yep, he won the biggest prize in the drawing! He came home just long enough to drop it off, and then he and CT went back to Lagoon to finish out the evening.
I have to give Ty some big Dad Kudos here. When he dropped off that TV, he was clearly, visibly exhausted. But he had promised CT that they would go back to the park, and he kept that promise. Yeah, he's the best.
I had some dinner, put AJ to bed, and tried to wind down from the day. I couldn't sit still, though. I tidied up the house, did the dishes, and waited for my boys to come home. When they did, I immediately got CT into the shower and put him to bed while Ty got all cleaned up.
It was a crazy day, and I'm looking forward to doing it again next year.
But...can someone talk to Mother Nature and somehow convince her to put out a few clouds for the sun to hide behind that day? That would be great, thanks.
Friday, June 22, 2012
One Totally Awesome Birthday!!!
That's right. Everyone's favorite Candice had her *Gasp* THIRTIETH Birthday yesterday!!!
What, oh what did I do for this enormous milestone, you might ask?
Well...Tyler and I packed the chiddlers into the van and we all headed to Salt Lake for the Utah Arts Festival. If you've never been to an arts festival before, FIX IT NOW!!! All the vendors are so interesting, and all of the displays are absolutely worth seeing, even if you don't plan on buying anything. It's one of my favorite events in the summertime.
Anyway, we got there just after lunchtime, and began the epic journey through the entire fair. There were painters and photographers, weavers, woodworkers, leather-workers, metal-workers, and just about every other kind of artist you can possibly imagine.
Ty told me before we got there: "We'll go through and see everything, and then we'll go back to your favorites and you can pick out your birthday present."
Is he the best husband ever, or what?
Yes. Yes he is.
In the end, I found several booths that I LOVED, but the one that I decided I wanted to buy something from was called "Sugar Post". They work with metal, and the stuff they do is GENIUS!!! Every time I turned around and saw a new piece of their work, I doubled over laughing. I got two small pieces from them.
This one represents my son, CT (A superhero, with a cape and everything!):
This one represents my daughter, AJ (A fairy, with a flowery magic wand):
They make all kinds of designs. If you want to see more (and I highly recommend that you do), you can go to their website, here. Seriously, I smile every time I look at these little guys! They're the perfect blend of adorable and evil. :)
After four glorious hours at the festival, our family went home to cool off from the summer heat and get cleaned up for dinner. Then we headed off to the Olive Garden. Dinner was sheer fabulosity, and since we had an errand to run, we went over to Target. While we were there, I decided that I wanted to get a couple of new colors of nail polish. One silver, and one purple.
Once we got home, and the chiddlers were in bed, Ty and I just hung out and vegged in front of the TV for a couple of hours, winding down from the most epic day EVER.
OH, and just to top off the night, I decided that my toenails needed to be purple.
Then this morning, AJ decided that her toenails needed to be purple too.
Oh yeah. Life is good. :)
What, oh what did I do for this enormous milestone, you might ask?
Well...Tyler and I packed the chiddlers into the van and we all headed to Salt Lake for the Utah Arts Festival. If you've never been to an arts festival before, FIX IT NOW!!! All the vendors are so interesting, and all of the displays are absolutely worth seeing, even if you don't plan on buying anything. It's one of my favorite events in the summertime.
Anyway, we got there just after lunchtime, and began the epic journey through the entire fair. There were painters and photographers, weavers, woodworkers, leather-workers, metal-workers, and just about every other kind of artist you can possibly imagine.
Ty told me before we got there: "We'll go through and see everything, and then we'll go back to your favorites and you can pick out your birthday present."
Is he the best husband ever, or what?
Yes. Yes he is.
In the end, I found several booths that I LOVED, but the one that I decided I wanted to buy something from was called "Sugar Post". They work with metal, and the stuff they do is GENIUS!!! Every time I turned around and saw a new piece of their work, I doubled over laughing. I got two small pieces from them.
This one represents my son, CT (A superhero, with a cape and everything!):
This one represents my daughter, AJ (A fairy, with a flowery magic wand):
They make all kinds of designs. If you want to see more (and I highly recommend that you do), you can go to their website, here. Seriously, I smile every time I look at these little guys! They're the perfect blend of adorable and evil. :)
After four glorious hours at the festival, our family went home to cool off from the summer heat and get cleaned up for dinner. Then we headed off to the Olive Garden. Dinner was sheer fabulosity, and since we had an errand to run, we went over to Target. While we were there, I decided that I wanted to get a couple of new colors of nail polish. One silver, and one purple.
Once we got home, and the chiddlers were in bed, Ty and I just hung out and vegged in front of the TV for a couple of hours, winding down from the most epic day EVER.
OH, and just to top off the night, I decided that my toenails needed to be purple.
Then this morning, AJ decided that her toenails needed to be purple too.
Oh yeah. Life is good. :)
Friday, June 15, 2012
Post 111. That's Right, the VIDEO BLOG!!!
Oh yes, my dear friends. It's finally happened. I actually did a REAL video blog post, as promised! Woot!
It took me at least 5 tries to get this thing to work, on several different devices. I finally figured it out on Ty's laptop webcam, but it's been such a ridiculous nighmare, I'm SURE I'll never do it again so enjoy it for what it is. (**Cough, Cough...Crappy...Cough...**)
Anyway...here you go. Don't get your expectations up too high, now!
Mynx: For the answers to the two questions that I didn't address in this video, here are the links to my previous posts.
How I met my husband.
The catalyst behind my decision to go back to school.
Chanel: Here is the recipe for the world's most exquisite cookies.
Just be sure that when people ask, you tell them exactly where they can find it! :)
Applesauce Cookies
THESE COOKIES ARE EXTREMELY ADDICTIVE. BAKE THEM AT YOUR OWN RISK. ENJOY!
1 cup shortening (But, if you're a trans fat hater like me, you can use 2 sticks of butter)
Then mix in:
4 cups flour ½ tsp cloves
Bake at 350 for 15-20 minutes
**Note: The batter for these cookies is NOT good, but once they are baked, you'll be in HEAVEN!!! Just be prepared for the exquisite aroma that will fill your kitchen as these are baking.
Also, be sure that you are very selective about WHO you feed these to. Once a person tries these cookies, you may NEVER be able to get rid of that person, no matter how hard you try! They will come back, just HOPING that you will give them ONE. MORE. APPLESAUCE COOKIE!!!
Remember: With great power, comes great responsibility.
Alright, I'll end this craziness now before I REALLY go off the deep end. However, I feel like I have made a tremendous accomplishment here. I hope you've all enjoyed my first (and ONLY) video blog post.
Have a nice day! (Or evening, or whatever...)
It took me at least 5 tries to get this thing to work, on several different devices. I finally figured it out on Ty's laptop webcam, but it's been such a ridiculous nighmare, I'm SURE I'll never do it again so enjoy it for what it is. (**Cough, Cough...Crappy...Cough...**)
Anyway...here you go. Don't get your expectations up too high, now!
Mynx: For the answers to the two questions that I didn't address in this video, here are the links to my previous posts.
How I met my husband.
The catalyst behind my decision to go back to school.
Chanel: Here is the recipe for the world's most exquisite cookies.
Just be sure that when people ask, you tell them exactly where they can find it! :)
Applesauce Cookies
WARNING!
THESE COOKIES ARE EXTREMELY ADDICTIVE. BAKE THEM AT YOUR OWN RISK. ENJOY!
First, Cream together the following:
1 cup shortening (But, if you're a trans fat hater like me, you can use 2 sticks of butter)
2 cups sugar
2 eggs
Then mix in:
4 cups flour ½ tsp cloves
1 tsp of each: 2
tsp. baking powder
cinnamon, salt, 2
cups applesauce
baking soda, Preferred amount of SEMI SWEET chocolate chips (NOT milk chocolate!)
& nutmeg.
Bake at 350 for 15-20 minutes
**Note: The batter for these cookies is NOT good, but once they are baked, you'll be in HEAVEN!!! Just be prepared for the exquisite aroma that will fill your kitchen as these are baking.
Also, be sure that you are very selective about WHO you feed these to. Once a person tries these cookies, you may NEVER be able to get rid of that person, no matter how hard you try! They will come back, just HOPING that you will give them ONE. MORE. APPLESAUCE COOKIE!!!
Remember: With great power, comes great responsibility.
Alright, I'll end this craziness now before I REALLY go off the deep end. However, I feel like I have made a tremendous accomplishment here. I hope you've all enjoyed my first (and ONLY) video blog post.
Have a nice day! (Or evening, or whatever...)
Thursday, May 31, 2012
Random Rambling (I Tend to Do That A Lot) ...
My son's final day of 1st grade is tomorrow.
It's so hard to believe how quickly this school year has gone by. Many of you that have been following this blog for a while know how difficult the beginning of CT's school year was. He got off on the wrong foot (in a BIG WAY) with his first teacher, so after about 2 months we went to the principal and had him switched over to a new teacher and a new class.
I was grateful for the opportunity he had been given, but I admit I still had my concerns. I mean, it's got to be a pretty jarring experience for a 6-year-old kid to get used to one teacher and her way of doing things, and then be thrown into a whole new, completely different class.
How very needless was all that worry.
CT's new teacher welcomed him into her class with open arms. She expected him to adhere to her rules and do his best work, but she did so with a kindness and open-heartedness that made him WANT to try his best. From the first day that my son started going to her class, I saw a tremendous change in his attitude toward himself and toward school. His grades shot through the roof, and he started learning even more quickly than before.
Does he still have some problems with classroom behavior? Yes he does.
However, since this new teacher chose to be caring and helpful, he never felt worthless or "bad", as he did during his experience with the first teacher. CT is so excited to be done with school for the summer, but he keeps saying how much he's going to miss his teacher.
To be honest, I'm going to miss her too. I can't help worrying and praying that CT's 2nd grade teacher will be as fantastic as his 1st grade teacher has been.
I'm also hoping that AJ will have her as a teacher when she reaches 1st grade. That's not unreasonable, is it?
I'm just so grateful for this fantastic teacher, and her willingness to take my son into her class and help him to have such a positive experience this year, despite such a rocky beginning. You can bet I'll be sending her a thank-you card tomorrow. It's the least I can do.
In other news, I'm not sure I've ever mentioned the fact that we bought the chiddlers a swing set this year.
A really, really nice one.
However, due to some crazy weather patterns, (I use the phrase loosely here, since the only "weather pattern" that we enjoy here in Utah is chaos), and the fact that our entire fence was destroyed in a crazy windstorm we had in the fall...that swing set has been sitting in our garage for several months, just waiting for the chance to make its debut.
Now, with the weather stabilizing and the fence-repair company starting work, Ty was able to use his two days off this week to build that swing set.
I did my best to help him, but in the end he did most of the work, you know, since there is no freaking way I could possibly decipher those instructions properly.
But, despite the fact that the instructions made no sense, AND most of the large pieces weren't even labeled, Ty got the job done. YAY!
The swing set turned out great, and the chiddlers had a blast this afternoon; climbing all over it, swinging on the swings and going down the slide.
Ty, after taking pictures and enjoying the pleasure that comes from knowing all of his hard work is well-appreciated, fell asleep on the patio swing while watching the chiddlers play.
Hmmm...I guess the effort involved with a huge, 13-hour buliding project out in the sun, spread across two days has a tendency to make people kinda tired. Who knew? ;)
Anyway, I'd better stop rambling now. Have a nice day!
PS: My next post is number 111. Some of you might remember that I promised to do a video blog post for my 111th.
I'm starting to regret making that promise now...but I've already weaseled out of this once, and I don't think I can justify doing it again. (Curse my ridiculously vocal conscience!!!)
Anyhoo...this is your last chance. Ask me a question (or two) that you want me to answer in my video post. I will do my best to answer them. Just don't send your minions and thugs after me when you're bitterly disappointed by the pure lousiness of the post.
Until then...
It's so hard to believe how quickly this school year has gone by. Many of you that have been following this blog for a while know how difficult the beginning of CT's school year was. He got off on the wrong foot (in a BIG WAY) with his first teacher, so after about 2 months we went to the principal and had him switched over to a new teacher and a new class.
I was grateful for the opportunity he had been given, but I admit I still had my concerns. I mean, it's got to be a pretty jarring experience for a 6-year-old kid to get used to one teacher and her way of doing things, and then be thrown into a whole new, completely different class.
How very needless was all that worry.
CT's new teacher welcomed him into her class with open arms. She expected him to adhere to her rules and do his best work, but she did so with a kindness and open-heartedness that made him WANT to try his best. From the first day that my son started going to her class, I saw a tremendous change in his attitude toward himself and toward school. His grades shot through the roof, and he started learning even more quickly than before.
Does he still have some problems with classroom behavior? Yes he does.
However, since this new teacher chose to be caring and helpful, he never felt worthless or "bad", as he did during his experience with the first teacher. CT is so excited to be done with school for the summer, but he keeps saying how much he's going to miss his teacher.
To be honest, I'm going to miss her too. I can't help worrying and praying that CT's 2nd grade teacher will be as fantastic as his 1st grade teacher has been.
I'm also hoping that AJ will have her as a teacher when she reaches 1st grade. That's not unreasonable, is it?
I'm just so grateful for this fantastic teacher, and her willingness to take my son into her class and help him to have such a positive experience this year, despite such a rocky beginning. You can bet I'll be sending her a thank-you card tomorrow. It's the least I can do.
In other news, I'm not sure I've ever mentioned the fact that we bought the chiddlers a swing set this year.
A really, really nice one.
However, due to some crazy weather patterns, (I use the phrase loosely here, since the only "weather pattern" that we enjoy here in Utah is chaos), and the fact that our entire fence was destroyed in a crazy windstorm we had in the fall...that swing set has been sitting in our garage for several months, just waiting for the chance to make its debut.
Now, with the weather stabilizing and the fence-repair company starting work, Ty was able to use his two days off this week to build that swing set.
I did my best to help him, but in the end he did most of the work, you know, since there is no freaking way I could possibly decipher those instructions properly.
But, despite the fact that the instructions made no sense, AND most of the large pieces weren't even labeled, Ty got the job done. YAY!
The swing set turned out great, and the chiddlers had a blast this afternoon; climbing all over it, swinging on the swings and going down the slide.
Ty, after taking pictures and enjoying the pleasure that comes from knowing all of his hard work is well-appreciated, fell asleep on the patio swing while watching the chiddlers play.
Hmmm...I guess the effort involved with a huge, 13-hour buliding project out in the sun, spread across two days has a tendency to make people kinda tired. Who knew? ;)
Anyway, I'd better stop rambling now. Have a nice day!
PS: My next post is number 111. Some of you might remember that I promised to do a video blog post for my 111th.
I'm starting to regret making that promise now...but I've already weaseled out of this once, and I don't think I can justify doing it again. (Curse my ridiculously vocal conscience!!!)
Anyhoo...this is your last chance. Ask me a question (or two) that you want me to answer in my video post. I will do my best to answer them. Just don't send your minions and thugs after me when you're bitterly disappointed by the pure lousiness of the post.
Until then...
Saturday, May 26, 2012
Okay, Where Did I Take a Wrong Turn and How Do I Get Back?
This is a re-post of my only post from my failed attempt to start a new blog on Wordpress. Since it's just the one post, I thought I'd put it here, so no one could miss out on any of my brilliance.
==============================================================
[Originally posted May 1, 2012.]
Today started out well. It really did.
Got CT to school, came home and fed AJ some breakfast. We sat and watched a little "Phineas and Ferb" (Best show EVER!) It was a very pleasant morning. Anyway, after breakfast, I wanted to take my newly purchased bike (that I actually purchased MONTHS ago, but since Mother Nature seems to think that Utah is her own personal playground for throwing ALL kinds of weather at a single place in a short period of time, I've never taken it out before today) for a ride. I told Ty my plan, and he expressed an interest in joining AJ and me on our expedition.
The bike ride was fabulous. The weather was perfect. My favorite type of weather, in fact. Overcast with grey clouds, not cold, not warm, and just a little bit windy. We rode around the neighborhood. Then we stopped at the park and let AJ play on the slides. She had her first ever encounter with a spiral slide AND a tunnel slide. She was a little timid about the tunnel slide at first, but once she tried it, she wanted to go over and over again.
We all went for another little jaunt around the neighborhood on our bikes, making a nice, circuitous path home. AJ would ask "What was that?" every time I went over a bump in the road (she was in one of those bike trailer/stroller things). When we got home, we had lunch. I actually got AJ down for a nap (becoming more and more rare these days, sadly enough). Ty went to work, and then after a while I had to wake AJ up so we could go and pick up CT from school.
I brought the chiddlers home, and CT did his homework while I put together a grocery list. I allowed the boy to go out and play with a friend for a while before we had to go to the store. I went and picked him up, and the kids and I went grocery shopping.
This is where things took a left turn at Albuquerque and never really found their way back.
The chiddlers LOVE those big, bulky carts where they can sit in the little plastic car and pretend to drive while I shop. It's harder for me to steer than a normal cart, but I don't mind too much. It keeps the chiddlers happy, and for a mom, an hour of peaceful grocery shopping is worth just about any minor inconvenience.
Anyway, I start driving this big cart around the store, and suddenly feel this painful jolt in one of my feet (I'm wearing sandals). It seems like a fluke, so I ignore it.
As I'm walking around, I adjust my hands on the cart handle a bit and end up touching the metal part of the handle. I get ANOTHER painful shock. I had no idea what was going on, but I figured my list wasn't very long, and surely it was just static electricity and it would figure itself out.
Oh no. Of course not.
For an entire hour, from one end of the store to the other, every single time my skin made contact with metal, I got that same horrible shock. Over and over again.
Now, I'm not one to swear in front of my kids (often). But as the shocks kept happening, and seemed to be getting worse, I have to admit that I let loose with a few choice "holiday words", becoming louder and more furious with every jolting shock. Fortunately, the chiddlers were happily driving their green plastic car and didn't hear me. If they did, they had the good sense not to mention it.
Finally, I finished the shopping, and made my way directly over to the Customer Service Center to tell them about the Evil Electrocution Cart from Hell. Luckily, I already had an in. It's Ty's department, and he was working tonight. I told him the problem, and he immediately got some people to start working on it. His theory was that the security system that is attached to every cart at the store to stop shoplifters was shorting out somehow and basically giving me free electro-convulsive therapy.
Fabulous.
I went home with VERY tender, tingly, pain-ridden hands. I put away the groceries and wanted to start making dinner. Unfortunately, the pan that I needed in order to boil the tortellini was dirty. Also, the sink was full of dirty dishes. Oh, and ALSO the dishwasher was full of clean dishes.
Hey, I never claimed to be particularly "on the ball" in the housekeeping department.
Anyway... in order to make dinner, (which was already running late) I had to empty the dishwasher of clean dishes. Then I had to put the dirty dishes into the freshly emptied dishwasher, and THEN I could wash the pan and start cooking dinner. I did all of this in resigned silence. I mean, the whole situation was so ridiculous already, and I was just too tired to be upset anymore.
While I was waiting for dinner to cook, I decided to do something productive, so I sent CT upstairs to take a shower, set AJ up with an episode of Phineas and Ferb, and started cleaning out the fridge. I started taking out all of the old, nasty food that we would never eat and put in the garbage. I also pulled any dishes out of the fridge that needed to be emptied of old leftovers and put them on the counter. I pulled out a jar of spaghetti sauce and put it on the counter so I could put it on the pasta I was making for dinner.
By this point, the garbage can was VERY full. I started getting the trash bag tied off, but in order to close the bag I had to shake it a little bit. As I shook the bag, and tied it off, I noticed that something was dripping out of the bottom of the bag.
There was a massive, sticky puddle of primordial ooze (or something like that) getting all over the freaking tile! So, I put the bag back into the can to avoid spreading the ooze and took out the trash. I came back inside and pulled out my fabulous Swiffer Wet Jet device to clean up the mystery puddle. When I was done mopping, I leaned the Swiffer against the counter and let it go. Apparently, it wasn't balanced well enough, so it started sliding sideways, where it hit the GLASS jar of spaghetti sauce and knocked it to the floor.
I watched, as though in slow motion, letting loose with one more furious "holiday word" that I'm pretty sure that my 2-year-old daughter heard very distinctly. (I wasn't exactly keeping my voice down.)
Miraculously, the jar managed to stay intact, and my kitchen was spared the trauma of a marinara shower. Phew.
I finished making dinner, and decided to go downstairs and veg in front of the TV while I ate and fed AJ. Trust me, I was DONE with the whole evening.
I sat on the couch, and was enjoying some fabulous pasta with my daughter. I had a big cup of ice, and a nice can of Dr. Pepper. I set my bowl of pasta on my bent knees (you know how they are when you tuck your feet in and your legs look like triangles from the side? Yeah,that was the surface that I chose for balancing a big bowl of pasta) then I started pouring out my drink.
Unfortunately, that bowl of pasta did NOT like the idea of staying steady up there on my knees, and instead decided to go careening down the slope, spilling marinara sauce all over me.
Sigh...
Sure.
Why not?
I asked CT to grab me some towels, mopped myself up as best I could, took of my jeans and shirt and threw them down to the laundry room in the basement. Then I sat back on the couch (in the t-shirt I had under my defiled t-shirt) and my underwear to finish my dinner. I put a blanket over my legs, hiding them in order to avoid traumatizing the chiddlers. I finished pouring out my Dr. Pepper and guzzled it.
What else could I do, really?
Oh, and the floor is still sticky. I've mopped it twice now.
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Dude, What is Your Problem?
Mother's Day was on Sunday. Due to scheduling and a few other factors, we were only able to spend Sunday celebrating with my Mom and family. For Ty's step-mom, we celebrated the occasion today. In preparation for the event, we went shopping last night for her Mother's Day gift.
Ty's step-mom, (henceforth to be known as MIL), is an antique junkie. Her whole house is filled with beautiful assorted antique items. She has really good taste, too. So for birthdays and other gift-giving situations, we will go to various antique shops and find something to add to her collection. Last night was no exception. However, when we went to the local antique shop that we had in mind, they were closed. (Oddly enough they are ONLY open on Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays. Yeah, I don't get it either.)
Anyway, since our first choice was not an option, we moved on. We went to a different place that we'd never been to before. It was a tiny little shop, inside one of those old houses. Ty asked me if I wanted to come inside, or wait in the van with the chiddlers. I wanted to help him choose a gift, so I opted to come inside. Ty went in first, and I came in a second later with the chiddlers. CT was given VERY strict instructions to keep his hands in his pockets and touch nothing. AJ was in my arms, and I held onto her hands to prevent any toddler-caused catastrophes.
The first thing I noticed as I walked inside the shop was how painfully CROWDED the place was. There was no room to walk around at all. And on every display was a hand-written sign: "Do Not Touch".
EXCUSE ME?!?!?
Exactly HOW am I supposed to avoid touching ANYTHING when EVERYTHING is practically falling in on me? What kind of shoddy set up is this, anyway? I've been in a lot of antique shops, and while every one of them have been filled to the rafters with antiques, only certain items are marked "Do Not Touch" and everything is far more comfortably arranged. I was terribly UN-comfortable the moment I stepped inside that poorly organized, overly crowded broom closet.
Adding to my discomfort was the sudden sight of the proprietor of the "store" (I'm still not convinced that the place actually WAS a store. I'll explain why later.) The guy was old, scraggly-looking, and gave me a scowl that would have made Ebeneezer Scrooge (pre-ghosts) stop in his tracks.
Anyway, I looked around the place, finding a few small items that might interest the MIL. I kept my hand on AJ's still holding her tightly against me. I watched CT like a hawk, making sure he kept his hands in his pockets and touched nothing. Guess what? Those kids, as usual, were astonishingly well-behaved. They never fail to impress me with their ability to contain themselves when the situation calls for it. They knew this place was an accident waiting to happen, and they were both doing their part to avoid being the cause of that accident.
One of the interesting items I found was a set of salt and pepper shakers. They were small, shaped like little windmills, and resting in their own little tray. They were adorable. I pointed them out to Ty, who was interested enough to open the little cupboard they were in and look at the price.
As though he'd been waiting for something to happen, the Glaring Guy at the Counter suddenly appeared around the corner and said: "Let's not touch anything now. The signs say 'Do Not Touch' for a reason, and if you can't control your kids you can just shop somewhere else."
Can't control our kids? What exactly were they doing except quietly staying close to their parents and not touching anything?
I mean, in any other antique shop, the proprietor of the store would have just come over and said: "Is there something I can help you with?" But no, this guy decides to descend upon us like some creepy old bat and tell us to control our already well-controlled kids or leave.
I don't think he expected Ty's reaction, who simply said in a calm voice: "Okay. Candice, let's go."
This pissed the guy off even more, because as we were leaving, he followed close behind Ty, and said in a low, threatening voice: "Get outta here." Seriously? Okay then.
But, as I mentioned before, I'm pretty sure this wasn't actually a store.
The haphazard, disorganized way the place was arranged, the cramped aisles that are clearly not meant to be used by humans, and the insistence that NO ONE TOUCH ANYTHING has made me wonder.
After wondering for a while, I have decided that I can't be angry at this guy.
He's clearly a hoarder. He probably lives underneath the counter at that place and just uses the "Antique Store" as a cover-up for his problem. That's why he keeps things so crowded in there, and why it's so imperative that NO ONE touch his stuff. It also explains why he's so antisocial and would rather kick paying customers out of the store than sell any of his precious, carefully hoarded stuff.
Poor, crabby old guy. I feel for ya. So much so, that from now on, I'll make sure that all of my family and friends will stay well away from you and your "store." One day, you may find the courage to admit you have a problem and get some help, but until then, good luck.
Don't worry. I'm sure you won't have to say goodbye to any of your stuff anytime soon. You seem to have a pretty effective system worked out to prevent that from ever happening.
Ty's step-mom, (henceforth to be known as MIL), is an antique junkie. Her whole house is filled with beautiful assorted antique items. She has really good taste, too. So for birthdays and other gift-giving situations, we will go to various antique shops and find something to add to her collection. Last night was no exception. However, when we went to the local antique shop that we had in mind, they were closed. (Oddly enough they are ONLY open on Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays. Yeah, I don't get it either.)
Anyway, since our first choice was not an option, we moved on. We went to a different place that we'd never been to before. It was a tiny little shop, inside one of those old houses. Ty asked me if I wanted to come inside, or wait in the van with the chiddlers. I wanted to help him choose a gift, so I opted to come inside. Ty went in first, and I came in a second later with the chiddlers. CT was given VERY strict instructions to keep his hands in his pockets and touch nothing. AJ was in my arms, and I held onto her hands to prevent any toddler-caused catastrophes.
The first thing I noticed as I walked inside the shop was how painfully CROWDED the place was. There was no room to walk around at all. And on every display was a hand-written sign: "Do Not Touch".
EXCUSE ME?!?!?
Exactly HOW am I supposed to avoid touching ANYTHING when EVERYTHING is practically falling in on me? What kind of shoddy set up is this, anyway? I've been in a lot of antique shops, and while every one of them have been filled to the rafters with antiques, only certain items are marked "Do Not Touch" and everything is far more comfortably arranged. I was terribly UN-comfortable the moment I stepped inside that poorly organized, overly crowded broom closet.
Adding to my discomfort was the sudden sight of the proprietor of the "store" (I'm still not convinced that the place actually WAS a store. I'll explain why later.) The guy was old, scraggly-looking, and gave me a scowl that would have made Ebeneezer Scrooge (pre-ghosts) stop in his tracks.
Anyway, I looked around the place, finding a few small items that might interest the MIL. I kept my hand on AJ's still holding her tightly against me. I watched CT like a hawk, making sure he kept his hands in his pockets and touched nothing. Guess what? Those kids, as usual, were astonishingly well-behaved. They never fail to impress me with their ability to contain themselves when the situation calls for it. They knew this place was an accident waiting to happen, and they were both doing their part to avoid being the cause of that accident.
One of the interesting items I found was a set of salt and pepper shakers. They were small, shaped like little windmills, and resting in their own little tray. They were adorable. I pointed them out to Ty, who was interested enough to open the little cupboard they were in and look at the price.
As though he'd been waiting for something to happen, the Glaring Guy at the Counter suddenly appeared around the corner and said: "Let's not touch anything now. The signs say 'Do Not Touch' for a reason, and if you can't control your kids you can just shop somewhere else."
Can't control our kids? What exactly were they doing except quietly staying close to their parents and not touching anything?
I mean, in any other antique shop, the proprietor of the store would have just come over and said: "Is there something I can help you with?" But no, this guy decides to descend upon us like some creepy old bat and tell us to control our already well-controlled kids or leave.
I don't think he expected Ty's reaction, who simply said in a calm voice: "Okay. Candice, let's go."
This pissed the guy off even more, because as we were leaving, he followed close behind Ty, and said in a low, threatening voice: "Get outta here." Seriously? Okay then.
But, as I mentioned before, I'm pretty sure this wasn't actually a store.
The haphazard, disorganized way the place was arranged, the cramped aisles that are clearly not meant to be used by humans, and the insistence that NO ONE TOUCH ANYTHING has made me wonder.
After wondering for a while, I have decided that I can't be angry at this guy.
He's clearly a hoarder. He probably lives underneath the counter at that place and just uses the "Antique Store" as a cover-up for his problem. That's why he keeps things so crowded in there, and why it's so imperative that NO ONE touch his stuff. It also explains why he's so antisocial and would rather kick paying customers out of the store than sell any of his precious, carefully hoarded stuff.
Poor, crabby old guy. I feel for ya. So much so, that from now on, I'll make sure that all of my family and friends will stay well away from you and your "store." One day, you may find the courage to admit you have a problem and get some help, but until then, good luck.
Don't worry. I'm sure you won't have to say goodbye to any of your stuff anytime soon. You seem to have a pretty effective system worked out to prevent that from ever happening.
Monday, May 14, 2012
The Ugly Truth...
After several weeks of trying to get my new blog set up and running, I've discovered that I am WAY too lazy to start all over again with a whole new blog. I'll probably make a few changes around here, but it looks like I'll be sticking around Blogger for a while, despite any past statements to the contrary.
Oh well.
See y'all sooner than later.
Saturday, April 21, 2012
FREEDOM!!!
Hi Everybody! (Hi, Dr. Nick!)
Guess who's done with school for the summer? Go on, guess!
It's ME! (Geez, I can't believe so many of you got that wrong! Think, people!)
Not only am I finished with classes until August, but I'm utterly and completely finished with classes at that particular university. It's kind of bittersweet, leaving my old school behind. They got me started on my dream. I earned my Associate's Degree from them. They've been good to me, and I learned a lot. But now it's time to move on.
Yesterday, I attended orientation for my new school and...WOW!!! This new university is a LOT bigger than the one I've been attending. Everything about this school just screams: "Step up your game, cuz y'all ain't in Kansas anymore!" Yet, somehow I wasn't too intimidated. I knew when I decided to transfer schools that this would be a very different experience, so...BRING IT ON!
I met with the advisor for my program. She gave me some very good information, and I was able to map out all of my classes. Now that I have a plan in place, I'm feeling less intimidated by the whole thing. It's still going to be a lot of work, though. The graduate program for Speech and Language Pathology is quite competitive, so making very good grades for my undergraduate degree is extremely important. Hence the reason I'm breaking what is normally a two-year program into a four-year program. Yes, it will take longer, but I have to be a Mom first. Taking things more slowly will ensure that I can put my very best work into my classes without being too overwhelmed by everything I have to do.
Anyway, in case you couldn't tell, I'm extremely excited about this whole new direction that my education will be taking. Add to that the pure thrill that comes from being done with classes for another 4 months and I'm all sorts of giddy.
Anyway, enough about school. For now.
Caden had his 7th birthday last week. I keep telling him to stop growing up so fast, but for some reason he's not listening to me. Rude, that's what it is. Seriously though, he's such a great kid, and I'm so very proud of him.
Adelle is growing every day too. She's showing signs of being ready for potty training, which scares me. Going through that whole process with my son was a complete nightmare. Sigh...I'll probably start working with Adelle over the summer. I've heard that it can be easier with girls than with boys. Let's hope it's the truth.
By the way, thanks to those of you who showed support for my frustrations with my editing class in my last post. My more rational mind has kicked in, and I can see how much I've really learned. (Admittedly, one of the main reasons I'm being so rational is more than likely because I know I'm done with that class forever...)
Alright, now I'm just rambling. My posts will probably be more frequent now that school is out, so prepare yourselves for a torrent of nonsense!
Guess who's done with school for the summer? Go on, guess!
It's ME! (Geez, I can't believe so many of you got that wrong! Think, people!)
Not only am I finished with classes until August, but I'm utterly and completely finished with classes at that particular university. It's kind of bittersweet, leaving my old school behind. They got me started on my dream. I earned my Associate's Degree from them. They've been good to me, and I learned a lot. But now it's time to move on.
Yesterday, I attended orientation for my new school and...WOW!!! This new university is a LOT bigger than the one I've been attending. Everything about this school just screams: "Step up your game, cuz y'all ain't in Kansas anymore!" Yet, somehow I wasn't too intimidated. I knew when I decided to transfer schools that this would be a very different experience, so...BRING IT ON!
I met with the advisor for my program. She gave me some very good information, and I was able to map out all of my classes. Now that I have a plan in place, I'm feeling less intimidated by the whole thing. It's still going to be a lot of work, though. The graduate program for Speech and Language Pathology is quite competitive, so making very good grades for my undergraduate degree is extremely important. Hence the reason I'm breaking what is normally a two-year program into a four-year program. Yes, it will take longer, but I have to be a Mom first. Taking things more slowly will ensure that I can put my very best work into my classes without being too overwhelmed by everything I have to do.
Anyway, in case you couldn't tell, I'm extremely excited about this whole new direction that my education will be taking. Add to that the pure thrill that comes from being done with classes for another 4 months and I'm all sorts of giddy.
Anyway, enough about school. For now.
Caden had his 7th birthday last week. I keep telling him to stop growing up so fast, but for some reason he's not listening to me. Rude, that's what it is. Seriously though, he's such a great kid, and I'm so very proud of him.
Adelle is growing every day too. She's showing signs of being ready for potty training, which scares me. Going through that whole process with my son was a complete nightmare. Sigh...I'll probably start working with Adelle over the summer. I've heard that it can be easier with girls than with boys. Let's hope it's the truth.
By the way, thanks to those of you who showed support for my frustrations with my editing class in my last post. My more rational mind has kicked in, and I can see how much I've really learned. (Admittedly, one of the main reasons I'm being so rational is more than likely because I know I'm done with that class forever...)
Alright, now I'm just rambling. My posts will probably be more frequent now that school is out, so prepare yourselves for a torrent of nonsense!
Monday, April 9, 2012
A Post in Which Candice Unleashes Some of Her Crazy on an Unsuspecting World...
Okay, I know I'm not exactly a deity when it comes to writing, or anything. I really do. However, I used to consider my writing skills to be better than most. Then I decided to take an editing class, and all of that confidence was shattered into a bazillion pieces.
My teacher is an absolute BEAR with grading! I mean, I understand that she's been a writer, editor, and a professor for a very, VERY long time, she's got a very trained eye for mistakes. But I DON'T!!! Seriously, how can I possibly catch EVERY LITTLE MISTAKE after taking one editing class? I can't, but she seems to expect me to. It's exasperating, it really is.
I'm sorry to be complaining like this, but my ego has been very, very wounded here. I'm used to getting A's on my papers. Every subject, every time, I've never failed to get an A on every single paper, essay, and/or report. Not kidding. Now, in this class I'm lucky to get B's on my papers and other writing assignments. For the first time EVER, I'm looking at getting a B in a writing-related class. A FREAKING B!!!!!! That does NOT happen to me! And the sad thing is, I'll be glad and grateful for that B while simultaneously kicking myself for not doing better and wondering how I could have made so many mistakes.
This class has been REALLY tough. I'm glad it's almost over, which surprises me. I thought I'd LOVE taking an editing class. I've always been really good at looking over other people's papers and such, correcting mistakes and helping to make it better overall. Not only was I good at it, I enjoyed it. An editing class should have been a piece of cake for me, right? Nope. Not even close. I would have been better off signing up for an underwater basket weaving class. And I would have had a few handmade baskets to enjoy once the class was over!
Yeah, I know I'm being a brat here, but I really hate unpleasant surprises. My editing class has been a very unpleasant surprise. Hence the ranting. BLAH!!!
Okay, I'll try to calm down now. Humility, Candice. Find your humility as you gorge yourself on popcorn and watch re-runs of "The Office".
Anyhoo...all ranting aside, I've been in a bit of a funk lately. I'm not sure what it is. Perhaps it's because I've decided to go in this new direction with school, and I know that these classes I'm taking this semester--though I plan to apply them toward a double minor at the new school--don't really have all that much to do with my future plans. Especially the (newly infamous) editing class.
It's not just school, though. I mean, I haven't been depressed. I'm not sad. I just haven't been my usual bubbly self. I've just kind of been bobbing along, neither bubbly nor depressed, just hovering around the middle somewhere.
I'm more inclined to think it's the change in my school plans that are at the root of this problem though. How do I know this? Because I've been feeling closer to my usual self now that this semester is nearly over. The closer I get to leaving my current school behind and moving on to my new school, the more excited I get. I'm SO CLOSE!!! Time has REALLY been dragging its feet recently. It's ever so very frustrating.
Either way, I need to stop whining and keep moving forward. In the meantime, here are some of my favorite random videos for all of you to enjoy:
This one makes me laugh every time I watch it. It may be a bit outdated, but it loses none of its hilarity.
This one is fabulous too. (If you've been living under a rock and have never seen the "literal music videos", you're in for a treat! Even if you have seen it before, you can watch it again. It's just as hilarious.)
Have a nice day! And watch out for those guys with pipe wrenches! :)
My teacher is an absolute BEAR with grading! I mean, I understand that she's been a writer, editor, and a professor for a very, VERY long time, she's got a very trained eye for mistakes. But I DON'T!!! Seriously, how can I possibly catch EVERY LITTLE MISTAKE after taking one editing class? I can't, but she seems to expect me to. It's exasperating, it really is.
I'm sorry to be complaining like this, but my ego has been very, very wounded here. I'm used to getting A's on my papers. Every subject, every time, I've never failed to get an A on every single paper, essay, and/or report. Not kidding. Now, in this class I'm lucky to get B's on my papers and other writing assignments. For the first time EVER, I'm looking at getting a B in a writing-related class. A FREAKING B!!!!!! That does NOT happen to me! And the sad thing is, I'll be glad and grateful for that B while simultaneously kicking myself for not doing better and wondering how I could have made so many mistakes.
This class has been REALLY tough. I'm glad it's almost over, which surprises me. I thought I'd LOVE taking an editing class. I've always been really good at looking over other people's papers and such, correcting mistakes and helping to make it better overall. Not only was I good at it, I enjoyed it. An editing class should have been a piece of cake for me, right? Nope. Not even close. I would have been better off signing up for an underwater basket weaving class. And I would have had a few handmade baskets to enjoy once the class was over!
Yeah, I know I'm being a brat here, but I really hate unpleasant surprises. My editing class has been a very unpleasant surprise. Hence the ranting. BLAH!!!
Okay, I'll try to calm down now. Humility, Candice. Find your humility as you gorge yourself on popcorn and watch re-runs of "The Office".
Anyhoo...all ranting aside, I've been in a bit of a funk lately. I'm not sure what it is. Perhaps it's because I've decided to go in this new direction with school, and I know that these classes I'm taking this semester--though I plan to apply them toward a double minor at the new school--don't really have all that much to do with my future plans. Especially the (newly infamous) editing class.
It's not just school, though. I mean, I haven't been depressed. I'm not sad. I just haven't been my usual bubbly self. I've just kind of been bobbing along, neither bubbly nor depressed, just hovering around the middle somewhere.
I'm more inclined to think it's the change in my school plans that are at the root of this problem though. How do I know this? Because I've been feeling closer to my usual self now that this semester is nearly over. The closer I get to leaving my current school behind and moving on to my new school, the more excited I get. I'm SO CLOSE!!! Time has REALLY been dragging its feet recently. It's ever so very frustrating.
Either way, I need to stop whining and keep moving forward. In the meantime, here are some of my favorite random videos for all of you to enjoy:
This one makes me laugh every time I watch it. It may be a bit outdated, but it loses none of its hilarity.
This one is fabulous too. (If you've been living under a rock and have never seen the "literal music videos", you're in for a treat! Even if you have seen it before, you can watch it again. It's just as hilarious.)
Have a nice day! And watch out for those guys with pipe wrenches! :)
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