There’s not much that I dislike more than making an doctor’s appointment, sitting in the waiting room, waiting in the exam room and then having the doctor tell you that a) there’s nothing wrong with or b.) there is something wrong with you but there is nothing that can be done for you.  So I avoid the doctor as much as I can…

Well…

I think motherhood makes you crazy.

I can remember being in college, knowing that all I had was a cold, and my mom telling me I should go see the doctor.  "Mo-oom. (rolling eyes)  There is nothing wrong with me."  When sick with "a cold" I will only take myself to the doctor when the pain is so great that I KNOW that something else is amiss.  I admitted myself once when I had such intense ear pain I couldn’t sit still (ear infection–now I know why babies make such a fuss) and I pulled into an urgent care once when I was driving because I could hardly turn my neck to see where I was going (strep throat).

But when it comes to my children, I am all to ready to see the doc as soon as possible.  To a point I guess.  In the past two weeks, I have made two appointments for Sugar to see a doctor, and then cancelled them less than 2 hours later.

Last week, Spider was lying around like a zombie with a fever and I wasn’t going to take her in until she said she had to go potty and then couldn’t.  Thinking possible UTI, I made an appointment, took her in they told me it was a virus, not the flu, and she was better the next day.  Of course, last year she had pink eye for over a week and I didn’t take her in because it started to look better, her brother comes home with a screaming earache, I take him in and am told that Spider has pink eye.  (It looked better, I tell you!)

So NOW, Sugar has the same fever/virus as Spider did last week.  Same comatose behavior, lack of appetite, BUT her eyes are red and her fever seems higher.  (Hence the made and then cancelled appointment yesterday.)  Web MD says it’s the flu, in the which case (perhaps it isn’t) there isn’t anything the doc can do anyway and I don’t need to be spreading it around.  But MAYBE it’s pink eye and somehow she’s the only one that got it?

GAH!

I think I just need my own medical degree.  Yep.  That’s what I need.  

And I don’t usually use that word very often…

Between the new liquid regulations and the luggage fees, I am having a heck of a time.  It is a NO WIN situation here and it ticks me off.  I would rather have the airlines charge a slightly higher fee to travel and include at least one damn bag!

Picture this: sweet, beauty consultant on a budget is going to a destination wedding for the weekend.  Said beauty consultant has a need of many liquid products for her, ahem, beauty regimen.  Not to mention that lovely woman is going to be IN the destination wedding.  She only needs ONE bag, which she does NOT want to check and PAY a gazillion dollars for.  BUT she has need of many products.  Fortunately, all the products she can SURVIVE ON fit in a quart size bag.  Do they fit "comfortably"?  Debatable.  Do all the little potions look like something someone could create a b*mb with?  If you watch a lot of crime shows on network television: most definitely.

So where does that leave me?

Pretty irritated and crossing my fingers.  I hate being nickled and dimed!

Today I am crying and I’m not really sure why…

I am crying because I put Sugar on the kindergarten bus for the first time

I am crying because of the rain

I am crying because summer is over and when the sun goes away, the sadness will come

I am crying because I have too much time and not enough time

I am crying because I don’t know what I am doing

I am crying because I don’t know what I am supposed to be doing

I am crying because other people are crying and I can’t take away their tears

I am crying because change is coming and I don’t know how to let go or if I am even supposed to

Is it okay if I just shred my to-do list and waste the day with tears today?

The Census Bureau is wasting paper like there is no tomorrow.

First, I get a letter saying the census IS COMING in three days.

Three days later I get the actual census form.

Two days later I get a letter saying I should have received the census, and if I hadn’t filled it out would I please hurry up and do so.

And that brings us to now, three weeks later when  another census form with accompanying letter saying fill the darn thing out already arrives in my mailbox.

I mean the census form is like 30 pages long.

That’s a lot of wasted paper.

So I filled it out today because I do not want any more trees to lose their lives because of my perceived procrastination.  

And you should too.

I used to weigh myself frequently.  And exercise.  And mmm.. a lot of things

Now when I weigh myself I want to vomit.  No not like bulimia.  Though maybe…

I think I need to join a gym.  

I guess I could pay for it from the food budget.  LOL.

Meh.

There is not a worse feeling than being unable to find something that you knew exactly where it was for months, because it sat in the same stupid spot, taunting you until you finally moved it somewhere more appropriate given the kind of item that it was. 

Of course now I don’t remember where that special place is located.  And the item is missing…

I feel like my insides are going to explode all over everything if I have to look in the same places I have been looking and not find it one more time.

Yep.  Pretty sure it doesn’t get worse than this.

Call it the web.  Call it the net.  Call it (as I do) the source of all knowledge because in many ways, that is what it is.

What on earth did people do before the internet?

I mean, if I have a question (how long are boiled eggs good for, for example) I immediately go to my dear lappy and google it.  Recipe for Flan?  Internet.  Need to call the school?  Internet.  Shopping for things I have never heard of, but NEED IMMEDIATELY?  Internet.  Sheet music? Internet.  Genealogy?  Internet.  Question about a sick chicken?  Internet.  Obviously the list goes on….

I’m serious though, how did our parents SURVIVE without the plethora of often useless, but sometimes useful knowledge floating around in cyberspace ready at the touch of a button for our personal enlightenment?  I mean, I  guess there was the library?  The newspaper?  The encyclopedia…. The phone book?

Seriously, we are so connected to EVERYTHING with the internet.  Stocks, School, Global.. Everything.  How did we know about this stuff before?

I guess I am mostly asking because I haven’t been able to find a few things on the internet lately.  (Shocking, I know) and now I am at a loss as to where to look.  I don’t want to drive all over the Northwest trying to find the sheet music I want.  And I don’t really know who to call about some of these other things.  And have you ever noticed that some industries keep what should be public internet knowledge, a SECRET FROM THE WEB?  There ARE no SECRETS HERE!  

Anyway.

Love the internet.  Source of all knowledge.

Usually.

Every day the pooch grows larger.  My pants get tighter around the mid section.  The pooch grows rounder.    I start wearing more billowy shirts. I squeeze the pooch and cuddle it, thinking lovingly that this would be really cute if I were pregnant.

But seeing as I am most decidedly NOT pregnant, the pooch repulses me.  The pooch is NOT cute.  The pooch only brings me joy when I can squish and squeeze all the skin around it, thus causing Charming to decide to spend his evening elsewhere.

So here I am with a disgusting belly bulge.  A small, but ever expanding poochy-poo.   I have half heartedly tried situps.  Diet is a four letter word.  And when am I ever going to find the motivation time to exercise?

So, if I can’t get rid of the pooch there is only one other option for me.  I must make the pooch cute again.  It must be filled with child.

Yep, this is how seriously I take these kinds of decisions.  Can you imagine?  "Well, Baby Smith, we decided to bring you into this world because Mommy was resigned to the fact her tummy was going to be forever poochy and she wanted to feel cute about it."

I do want another baby though.  And if I am going to have more kids, I should do it while I am still young. 

And it would solve this pooch dilemma….

You know that sense of pride and accomplishment you get when you finish a job well done?  How good you feel when you are successful?  The high of doing what you set out to do?

I love that feeling.

Cleaning my house does not give me that feeling.  I get absolutely no satisfaction out of cleaning my house.  I hate doing it, and when I finish, I do not feel better.  No strong happiness or joy.  Nothing.

I mean, there are lots of things I do that while I do not enjoy the process, I thoroughly enjoy the end result.  Making booking phone calls, sewing, cross stitching, getting dressed in the morning….

But cleaning is just not one of those things.

In trying to understand the logistics of this lack of pride, I have come up with the following conclusions:

1. Because there are things in my house that need repair/my house isn’t really the way I want it, even when it is clean, it still feels dirty or undone to me

2. Resistance is futile.  My hours of work will come unraveled within ten minutes of the small people realizing my accomplishment.  A "Ground Hog Day" kind of sensation if you will.

It’s probably a little bit of both actually, but it still leaves me with the predicament of what is to be done?  I can’t leave it a mess all the time (well, can’t is probably the wrong word choice….) but the cleaning is SO PAINFUL and I Can’t. Get. No. Satisfaction.

Thoughts?

Yes, that’s right I addressed you by your first name.  Listen, Mister Man, I got something to say to you.

First of all, No I did not vote for you and yes I am conservative.  But, for the record, as long as you don’t muck everything up too much with your liberal agenda, I will continue to support and sustain you, just like I said I would.  I didn’t make too big of a deal when you decided that you could spend my tax dollars on foreign abortions, so you’re welcome, but the conscience clause, really?

That’s taking it a little too far.

(To sum it up, the conscience clause allows medical professionals to abstain from performing procedures that conflict with their consciences/morals and Mr Obama would like to rescind that policy).

I am not an abortion fan, Barack.  I feel that in certain situations it is appropriate and perhaps even necessary.  But as a general rule, I think life is precious and should be supported.  There are many couples who would love to have children who would be happy to love and raise any pregnant woman’s unwanted child.  That said, however, I support the idea that everyone has a right to choose their own path.  People can make their own choices.  That’s the way it should work.

Everyone has a right to choose.

And that is why I support the conscience clause.  

It does nothing to take away abortions.  It only stands to allow doctors and nurses the same "freedom to choose" as you, Barack Obama, think women should have in their reproductive decisions.

For you to rescind the conscience clause is for you to essentially deny a different set of people the right to choose.  And that is hypocritical.

And frightening.

Because if you can take away the choices of medical professionals, who’s next?  Are you going to take away my choices too? Right now, I choose not to work on Sunday.  I choose not to smoke or drink.  Will you make me skip church to work for your government and take a mandatory smoking break?  Will you force me to have pain medication when I don’t want any? Will you make me get an abortion against my moral conscience if my family gets too large?  How far will you go or not go?

You are walking a dangerous line, Barack.  You better back down.  Don’t you dare take away someone’s right to choose in the name of free choice.   Don’t be that kind of man.  Don’t be that kind of President.  Leave it be.  Just leave it be.

*Sign the petition here