30 August 2009

I went to Wal Mart

My list included:

trash bags
green beans
dog food
corn dogs
shredded cheese

What I can home with:

Bag of polyfil
queen size foam pad
dog food (check)
green beans x4 (check)
corn x4 (check)
shredded cheese (check)
trash bags (check)
tortillas x2 (check)
hairbrush (check)
remnant fleece
stitch witch x2
cereal x2 (check)
milk x2 (check)
mixed fruit cup
twin sheets x2

And what have I learned?

29 August 2009

He hasn't changed that much

26 August 2009

I just love 'em

25 August 2009

Happy Birthday Jordana!

My littlest sister turns 20 today!
Happy birthday Aunt George!
We love you soooo much!

24 August 2009


Alright, I openly admit that what I'm about to say is neither politically correct or rational and it might not even be nice but it's how I feel and after last night I could not say it more...


There. I said it. I know, it's horrible. It's awful. But come on people. If you chose to live in the US, whether legally or illegally, learn how to speak English. And I am so not trying to segregate those of Spanish decent. It just so happens that in TX, the ratio of Hispanics to Caucasians is 5:1. Or something like that.

Here's the deal: since I work in the ER, there are a plethora of individuals that come in whom do not speak English. Not a lick of it actually. They even fill out their slips in Spanish. And when there are no people around whom also speak Spanish, I have to go and find someone to translate. This may take awhile. This is not my fault. It's also quite embarrassing when the doctor, DOCTOR, has to get one of the housekeepers (whom I love dearly-really) to come and translate for him. Yeah.

Also note that I would feel the same way about an American going to live in say, Germany.

But since I know that this is a null point, I'll just stew about it. And of course write about it.

Shout Outs:
Moist Facial Towelettes-make-up removal made easy.
Gel pens-I really love writing with you.
Key hooks-if Stuart actually used you, I would never have to search for the keys.

22 August 2009

Proof: The truck in the livingroom

21 August 2009

A Letter

Dear backyard(ish) neighbor,

I am a dog lover. My husband and I have two gigantic beasts with which to prove this point. Their names are Turbo and Scout and we lovingly refer to them as our children (though not to be confused with our human children, at times which act worse than our non-human ones but we'll leave that for another letter). I completely get why people want and buy dogs. I also completely understand why some people buy dogs for other purposes than to keep around the house, give treats to and laugh at when they take up more space on the couch than their son and they do nothing about it because it's just so cute. Some of these reasons might be for farming and guarding. I'm going to assume that your reason for purchasing and owning this breed is for the latter. I'm not going to lie, I think it's a bit cruel to leave your animal outside all day without ever bringing them inside (I mean we do live in Hotter-than-Hell Hundred boasting WF {which is next weekend and I *think* President George W might be riding in it}), but you are the master of your domain and I'm not going to tell you what to do-to an extent.

You see dear backyard(ish) neighbor, I love my sleep. More importantly I love my children's sleep. And when I am actually home, at night, and get to sleep in the same bed, at the same time that my husband is sleeping, I really would like to stay asleep. Unfortunately this monumental feat can not occur when your* non-human offspring are left out all night and thus bark and howl at the flutter of a leaf.

*these could possibly be another backyard(ish) neighbor's clansdogs, but for the sake of this letter we'll just say that they are, in fact, yours.

The dominoe effect of your brood barking and whining comes thru my doors and windows, which then causes my two, precious non-human children to whine. And if that whining and scurrying about gets loud enough, my two human children wake up.

I'm not sure if you have human children or not (I'm gonna go with not since there is no way that children sleeping mere feet from the ruckus that is enclosed in your backyard every night could in fact, sleep) but when these angels wake from slumber in the middle of the night it is neither fun nor easy to put their cherub cheeks back on the pillow and pass a spell to make their eyes close again. This recipe also leaves a mother tending to her sheep while her dear husband snores and hogs more of the now available sheets.

So you see, you, by way of your actions in letting your {sigh} dogs stay outside all night long are in effect ruining the peace and order of my nighttime house. I would appreciate and swift and immediate fix of this problem or else I might be forced to stick my head out the back door and yell like your other backyard(ish) neighbors have done for the past few nights.

Thank you for your time.

Your other backyard(ish) neighbor who hasn't been screaming at you

20 August 2009

Cleaning and Crying

So I've been trying to catch up on my cleaning and laundry since my work load this week has been a hair lighter than last week. Add to that the fact that I got sick this weekend and my cleaning "mojo" has been about zero. But since laundry doesn't stop (and is it just me or does the laundry double when mom isn't home to take care of it everyday?) and dishes must be washed or else the milk curdles and then I have the stinkiest nast-i-ous-ness (that is so a real word) on my hands, cleaning I must do.

So that is what I have done in between sleeping, eating, spending few precious minutes with my boys and of course buying new pots and pans. Oh the joys!

With that I have also been catching up on my blog friends and blogs that I stalk. Yesterday I watched this and just about ran out of tears.

Oh, and have I mentioned to go over here and check out the new update on Luke??

One last thing, my baby boy is going to be 4 (as in one, two, three, FOUR) in less than a month!

19 August 2009

Things that make 'ya go "oooh"

18 August 2009

I had a dream

I mean, I have many dreams. I pretty much dream every night or day depending on when I am sleeping. And I remember my dreams. We're talking crazy, accurate details. I honest to goodness remember a dream that I had when I was little that involved my sister not being thrown into a den of wolves because she ran out from under my mom's dress to reach the Barbie that was stuck in the giant spider web. I guess you could call it more of a nightmare but none-the-less I remember it. This is a big reason as to why I can't and won't watch horror movies (or their commercials for that matter)-I have these horrid dreams that I wake up in a cold sweat from and then can't go back to sleep because I start thinking about all the terrible things that could happen to my kids and husband and then I'm drowning in a sea of badliness and all I want to do is think about the things that I need to get done the next day so that I can focus on the positive. Yeah, it's that bad.


So this dream. I had it yesterday, during the day, since I had to work tonight (or last night if you want to be technical but since my shift encompasses two literal days...I'm not really sure where I was going with that thought but I was asleep Monday afternoon. Better?) and I had this bizarre dream that I feel inclined to share with you, my adoring readers.

Stuart and I are in Virginia and we're staying with the doctors from the show "Deliver Me." Just the brunette and the blonde doctors. I'm not sure why they are in VA, but that's where we were. And they are in this giant, Victorian style house. For some reason we decided to sleep in different rooms since the boys were in different rooms and each of the boys were on a different floor.

Sometime during the night I am approached by a man who wants for us to get involved in his business. I am not scared of this man, and I think he might also be from another reality show that we watch but I can't put my finger on it. So the this business is drug trafficking. And we say yes.

After agreeing to this insane proposition, I go back to sleep. Because, you know, that's all I really want to do these days.

Sometime later, the house gets broken into. The theifs want to take all the drug paraphernalia that we are "hiding" but they can't find any since we have magically appeared in a new house. But somehow the boys did not go with us to this new house. And I am frantic to find them.

Turns out Tyson has become a doctor and is in the hospital trying to hold down a kid (who happens to be Tucker) so that he can give him a shot in order to pull off the sippie cup lid that is stuck on his tongue (an event that actually happened last week in the ER).

I wake up from this and all I can think about is why Stuart didn't notice that Tucker had the sippie cup stuck on his tongue and why in the world did he not call me to let me know what happened. I actually got up to go in the living room and make sure all was right in the world-while-mom-was-sleeping.

And it was.

Except for the fact that the outside truck (Power Wheels, huge, massive, both boys can sit inside and drive it around the backyard truck) was inside my living room.


17 August 2009

On Working

This has been my pattern for the last couple of weeks:

come home
engage with the boys and Stu for at least an hour
fall into bed
sleep all day
wake up
eat dinner
work all night


Oh and I love you JW. :)

Shout Outs:
Niel Med Sinus Irrigation System-you make me feel like I'm drowning but boy-howdy do you work.
Clean sheets-need I say more?
Left overs-yeah, no cooking.

15 August 2009

Oh Tucker

13 August 2009

My Girl

now without her girl parts

I was not prepared

A couple days ago I was taking my bi-daily trip to Walmart with the boys. My list included toilet paper, diapers, bread, milk, cereal and corn dogs. Of course I can never walk out of the store with exactly what's on my list so the boys and I were in the middle of the baked goods aisle (I wanted brownies) when Tyson started playing yet another of his million questions games. This particular game centered on who is whom's mother.

Tyson: Mommy, you're MY mommy.
Me: Mhmm.
Tyson: And you're Tucker's mommy.
Me: Yup.
Tyson: And Kate is Aunt George's mommy.
Me: Almost-Aunt Marci is Kate's mommy.
Tyson: And Mimi is a mommy.
Me: She's mommy's mommy.
Tyson: And Aunt Sarah is daddy's mommy.
Me: No. Aunt Sarah is daddy's sister. Nana is daddy's mommy.
Tyson: That's right! Good job mommy. Where is Nana?
Me: Well, she's in heaven right now.
Tyson: In heaven....with God? And Jesus?
Me: Yes. And she's eating chocolate cake!
Tyson: Is Nana going to come to my house?
Me: Well buddy she can't come to your house because she's in heaven.
Tyson: I really want her to come to my house.
Me: Me too, me too.

10 August 2009

T Minus Two Years

August 10, 2007

09 August 2009

Sunrise, Sunset

It's a funny thing when you come to work and it's light outside and throughout your shift the light fades, night comes, night goes, morning comes and then it's light again as you leave to go home. Funny thing.

Another funny thing, flashing red or yellow traffic lights. There are precisely 5 stop lights that I pass under on my way to work. One of the beauties (I know, I tend to comment on the negatives of living in a small town but there are some perks) of living in a smaller town is the flashing red light. After 10 pm several to most of the traffic lights go from being on to flashing. It's a marvelous thing. Especially marvelous since I am heading to work at 10: 30 pm and therefore don't have to stop at those pesky traffic lights because not only are the ones that I go under blinking, but they are blinking yellow. As Tyson would say, "Mommy yellow means slow down."

So funny thing is that while I am working, I have no idea what is going on in the outside world (I mean other than what's coming into the hospital-I know there are a lot of fevers in the outside world right now). Seriously. When I walk out the automatic double doors that keep me nice and safe, I have not a clue as to what happened in the last 8-12 hours. But the even funnier thing is that neither does anyone else really since they all have been sleeping. For example: my kids have no clue that I am not home all night long. All they know is that mommy is there when they wake up (or shortly thereafter) and mommy either give them a kiss shortly before bedtime or tucks them in to bed. Whose to say that mommy isn't also sleeping when they are sleeping? They have no clue. But they are more than ready to talk to me about what they did with daddy the day before (while I was sleeping) and are more than ready to yell at me for turning the channel off of Curious George and heaven forbid if I accidentally give Tyson his raisin bread (really it's cinnamon bread but for some reason he calls it raisin) toasted with butter instead of untoasted with butter.

Another funny thing: telling the girl that registers you into the ER that you want to be a "Do Not Publish" patient because you smoke pot and drank before you had your seizure and you don't want your parents to find out, since you're under age and all.

Funny thing.

07 August 2009

Clarissa Needs...

(I've done this before and it's just too funny to pass up again)

Google your name and the word ‘needs’, in quotes — as in “Clarissa needs”.
Jot down the first ten sensible "needs." So stinkin' fun!

1. Clarissa needs to be humiliated. {hmm}

2. Clarissa needs to show herself capable of unconditional love. {wow, I have nothing to say}

3. Clarissa needs a break. {Amen!!}

4. Clarissa needs an avatar. {I'm gonna have to ask Stu what that is}

5. Clarissa needs your thoughts and prayers. {seriously, is someone getting in my head?}

6. Clarissa needs your iChat accounts. {???}

7. Clarissa needs a home. {well, I have a home but I could always use two...}

8. Clarissa needs to stay inside herself. {yes! please get out of my head}

9. Clarissa needs to begin by prioritizing her debt. {...looking over my shoulder...}

10. Clarissa needs to win the d**n lottery. {again, yes!}

06 August 2009


Me: Hey Mr. Regular.
Mr. Regular: I really need to see the doctor.
Me: I know Mr. Regular. How are you doing tonight?
Mr. Regular: Not good. My wife's coming home tomorrow and so my girlfriend has to leave so that they aren't at the house at the same time.
Me: Ok. So what's going on? Why are we here tonight?
Mr. Regular: Oh man, you need to cut off my finger.
Me: Why do we need to do that?
Mr. Regular: Well my girlfriend bit it 'cause she was mad at me for throwing the tv out the window.
Me: Why did you throw the tv out the window?
Mr. Regular: 'Cause she poured bleach on me.
Me: Ok. And how'd you get the cut on your cheek?
Mr. Regular: Well, 'ya see, I was climbing out the window to go see my other girlfriend.
Me: Oh, ok.

Reason for treatment: Altered Mental State

05 August 2009

Apparently I was born in the wrong year


04 August 2009


So there are many things in life that baffle me, stump me, leave me dumbfounded. It seems that these events strike me more than other people but whatever. And it just so happens that several of the things that make me scratch my head happen at work.

  1. Why do nurses and/or doctors smoke?
  2. What's up with fanny packs?
  3. Why do people wear socks and tennis shoes with Capri's?
  4. Why do people wear black socks and tennis shoes with shorts?
  5. What is up with the mullet?
  6. Why do people not utilize car seats?
  7. Why would you not shower at least once a year?
  8. Why do people feel it's important for everyone to hear their cell phone conversations?
  9. What happened to chivalry?
  10. Why doesn't everyone think like me?
Shout Outs:
Cereal-I love a big 'ole bowl of cereal.
Breakfast-for any meal of the day really.
Coffee-the smell of coffee to be exact. Mmmmm,
(and yes, I'm hungry right now)

03 August 2009

Do You See What I See?

Empty washing machine: CHECK.
Empty laundry basket: CHECK.
SEVEN loads of laundry folded and put away: CHECK.

Yesterday was fantastic on so many levels. First and foremost it was my first full day off since starting overnights. Ahh. I've said it before and I'll say it again, Stuart has been a great help since I have gone back to work, but he just does things differently than I do. I'm working on letting that go but it's hard, really hard. (breath in and out, ahem)

Anywho, yesterday I felt like a mom with a mission. There were several things that had been estranged from me and I was fully aware that they needed some tending to. Mainly laundry, cleaning, organizing the pantry and fridge, putting the boys' clothes in the right closets, picking up the couches to find long lost toys, pretty much my Sunday Night Rituals. It was heavenly.

Oh and I also did some light reading last night while Stuart was watching Casino. Yeah, it was that good of a night.

02 August 2009

Home is Where the Air Force Sends You

Growing up my family moved a handful of times. Obviously the biggest and most dramatic moves where to and from Brazil (where my parents just HAD to give me a sister in the process). San Antonio was pretty much home since we moved there when I was 8ish. While leaving one place was hard, I was young and I always assumed that this is what everyone else did.

When Stuart and I got married, I willingly entered into our union knowing that we were going to be moving quite a bit. My father was not in the military but since San Antonio is the home of Lackland AFB (which is also the home of the AF's boot camp) I saw a few military members from time to time. I understood that good 'ole Uncle Sam liked to change a family's course every 3-4 years though I was never sure why. So when Stuart asked me to marry him and announced that we would be moving to Wichita Falls for 4 months then jet-setting to Las Vegas for 4 years after that, I admit, I was a little excited.

I had dreams that we would be sent overseas, or to some small place like Elmendorf or Ellsworth. Then I woke up and realized that to get to any of those places you have to move. And pack. And live around boxes. And load said boxes in a trailer. And then find a dwelling in which to place all of these boxes. And then unpack these boxes. And then do it all over again in a short amount of time. OR you could just have the AF move you and stand there with a goofy grin plastered across your face while a team of guys tornado thru your house packing everything you own in the time that it would normally take you to do laundry and then come back the next day to load all your life into a gigantic truck that you pray will be at your next change of address. Either way, you stuff has to transfer from one locale to another.

BTW-we have moved 6 times in 6 years. Yeah....

What I wasn't prepared for with moving was saying goodbye. To friends that is. My dad was a Youth Minister while I was growing up and thus a lot of my friends were from church. Being young elicits a perfume that draws friends in. After getting married, "making friends" took on a whole new meaning. For one, we moved twice in the first 6 months of marriage. Plus all of a sudden you want to make friends with other married people (not that I didn't want to have friends that were single, but it was just a new phenomenon that you could double date and while the men were talking about "XYZ" the women could talk about cooking, cleaning, weddings, babies, the cost of milk at the Commissary and how in the world did our husbands loose all their romantic notions the minute we said "I do." Tantalizing conversations.).

Knowing that you're going to have to say goodbye to someone immediately makes my guard come up. It's not that I don't want to get to know them, it's just that I take my friendships that much more seriously now. Being in the military already brings a sense of comradery, but to have friendships is even more special.

That is why last night was so hard and special. Two of our friends are moving on Monday. Last night we got together to have a bon voyage of sorts. I didn't expect to cry, but I did. (Not that anyone but Stuart knew since I did it while driving home) We all know that moving is part of the job, but it doesn't make it any easier. I was truly proud of what Stuart did by serving our country and was equally proud when he made the decision to get out and fulfill is dream of finishing school. I was just as honored to be called a military wife as I know Erin and Jennifer are.

So to Erin and Jennifer and your families-good luck, God speed, y'all will be truly missed.