I Breathe Out...

I AM DONE!

My semester is officially over and I can finally exhale...and do laundry and get my house in order and what not. But I am so thrilled! I decided to take the 8 week short session verses the regular 16 week for a number of reasons- and I began to dread it very quickly into my semester.

• I had planned on this being a blow-off semester and had no idea how stressful it would end up.


• I had the nursing entrance exam to study for and pass, and


• getting my application in, and


• finding out that my "skills" were lacking in some areas


• One of the girls in my class had test anxiety that radiated.


• Fortunately for me, she sat behind me and I happened to pick it up from her. thanks, Lisa. Thanks.

I made some lovely friends along the way and I feel blessed to have these new friends that I know will support, encourage, and pick fun at me throughout our nursing program together. I'll post a pic of the group when Janet sends me a copy of the picture we took after our exam.

My Hiatus Has Ended

Is anybody out there?






y'all. I waved my white flag, I threw in the towel, I all but bent over and mooned blog365 - and maybe that would have made me feel bettter, but I feel guilt now. Heavy, heavy guilt.

And it's not so bad. I didn't come here with anything on my mind to blog about, so I thought I'd do a list of random, need-to-do/should-have-already-done/wanna-do-but-probably won't

• I need to fill out my nursing school application and turn it in. Because I believe nursing school doesn't let you in if you don't apply. And the deadline is March 1st.




• I should have already done laundry. But I didn't. No surprise there.




• I wanna clean out the garage, but I probably won't get on that horse til the summer.




• I need to get my butt in the gym. Because Sebi says I have a big booty.




• I should have written my paper for my speech class last night, but I had margaritas with the girls from my nursing skills class. I believe I made the right decision.




• I wanna drop my speech class, but I probably won't.




• I need to throw out the bathroom trash and should have already done that, but I probably won't- because I got this passive-aggressive trash idea awhile back, and I decided to try it.

I placed the can of mousse there for height reference.

Nursing "Skills"

o.k. everyone, now I may have referenced once or twice that the nursing skills class that I am taking is sordof......a brainless activity. I mean, ooohhhh! We made beds! and, ahhhhhh! We gave bed baths!

(o.k., we stressed a bit ((a lot)) for our check-offs)

But tonight, they dangled nursing opportunities in our faces that had us all giddy and excited. Well, the giddy part comes later. I'll explain.

blood pressures, y'all. We were taking blood pressures. And anyone seeking health care in about 3 years should be worried about my class. Because we're a bunch of yo-yo's. Oh, it seems so simple to find a pulse and take a blood pressure....right?

wrong. because we're a bunch of yo-yo's.

At one point, I was trying to find a pulse on my partner's foot and I believe I came to the rational that the fault of not finding one could not be mine. I asked if she ate brains. And then I diagnosed her as zombie.

I don't know if anyone has ever noticed the cuffs and valves and meters involved with blood pressure taking. oh, it sounds so technical now. And it was. I was paired with Marjana who was a nurse in another country before she moved here. She's got this all down. I don't. So, she went first and took my pulse and what not and breezed through my blood pressure and 10 seconds later it was my turn. Get comfortable, Marjana. Get comfortable. This is gonna be a long, hard ride.

And it was.

My first attempt went smooth until I stretched with my itty bitty thumb attached to my itty bitty hand to turn the valve on the pump and release the air in the cuff. The valve that Marjana had tightened just before my turn.

y'all.

I am now looking into her former carreer. Because heavy weight/body building nursing may have been it. I don't know for sure. I do know that I couldn't release that valve to save my life. Or hers.

Marjana released the valve for me. I don't think it was pity so much but that her hand was about to fall off.

Take Two.

I had it down. I had the cuff on nice and snug. I had felt the brachial artery and had placed my stethoscope atop of it. I had pumped up that bad boy and was releasing the pressure oh. so. slowly.

It was sweet Carolina. or whatever you want to call it. The needle on my meter was dropping steadily. Not too fast, not too slow. It was THE perfect blood pressure taking of my LIFE.

And then I realized that the ear pieces to my stethoscope were still wrapped around my neck.



Take three went all right. But I believe that Marjana probably went home and curled up into the fetal position. She was a great sport. And I'm sure she is quite happy that we were not cannulating veins tonight.

Her, and me.

disclaimer**when I mention the bunch of yo-yo's in my class, I am looking in one of those 3-view mirrors**

What Does Your Car Say About You?

I'll tell you what mine says now- Soccer mom. Or just plain and simply, mom. Not that there is ANYthing plain or simple about being a mom. But y'all, I have an announcement to make.

I am officially driving a mini-van. Yes. I am. Be scared, people. Be very, very scared. because I am. There is so much vehicle behind me. With kids.

Here is the "family truckster".

And also,

here are my husband and my father being "men" and looking under the hood. I guarantee, neither one knew what the heck they were looking at. They only needed to be holding a couple of beers to make this photo more authentic.

*no beers were drank during the purchase of this vehicle. only after.*

What Are The Odds?

Today during nap time, I was doing some serious business which entailed studying for my master checkoff tonight in my nursing skills class while watching "It's So Over: 50 Biggest Celebrity Break-ups". You really have to work hard to earn a grade point average of my caliber.

Well, my mind went a wandering- because I tend to lose focus when studying is involved, and I completely forgot that at one point in time Angelina Jolie was married to Billy Bob Thornton. This seemed like a good time for a sugar rush, so I headed out to my car to get one of my emergency stashes. A bag of starburst candies.

As I was walking back inside, I reached in the bag and pulled out FOUR red starbursts. FOUR. RED. starbursts. Now really, what are the odds? Important things are going to happen to me today. I can feel it.

Oh, Wednesday

I just never know what to expect on Wednesdays.

If you don't already know this, I have class on Monday and Wednesday nights. Wednesday is a bit longer (since I have lab after class) which usually takes me close to 10:00pm. Well, I never know what we are doing in lab because honestly, it's sordof a breeze. So I usually walk in there wondering what in the world we'll be doing this week...

Tonight, I got to pee in a cup. Yes, people. I got to collect my own sample of urine and then analyze it. The whole nine yards. Color. Smell (yeah, I had to actually smell it and then write a description). Cloudy? Clear? PH, presence of proteins, etc., etc.

I checked out o.k., and I'm not pregnant.

Lab ended exceptionally early tonight. We were done by about 8:40. Well Bonnie Lou asked if I wanted to go to Wal-Mart and I just couldn't refuse. No laughing at the Texans going to Wal-Mart. We weren't hanging out. We were Christmas shopping.

Again. No laughing.

And by the way, Bonnie Lou is technically her name- but she goes by Bonnie. I just thought that would make for better reading what with the whole Wal-Mart/Texan thing...

Anyhoo, y'all know I'm not a shopper- but something about Christmas, and Sebi being 3 this year, (and maybe having a bit of extra spending money) just made it all so fun. We walked the kid aisles looking at all the neat toys. I fought the urge to pee after having to drink so much water for lab, and we laughed and had girl time.

oh, And all the while, I rubbed my hands with about 9 alcohol swabs to try and erase the stench of this horrendous lotion that my lab partner offered me once lab was done. And I will never, ever, ever accept that offer again- dry hands or not.

So...

• I have now bought over 5 presents
• I am looking forward to Christmas
• I have washed my hands 3 times and they still wreak of that darn lotion. So F.YI., alcohol swabs will not take away a bad choice of hand cream....they will encourage the dry skin, however.

Oh, and I just can't leave this out.....

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MEGAN!!!!! and I'm sorry you got posted with pee.

I Have No Idea What To Post

The title pretty much says it all. I couldn't go with Writer's Blogck, since I used that one some time ago...

I figure if I just let my fingers do the walking, something will come out. Let's see if I can just recap one day this week for y'all and just shoo you away with boredom.

Thursday night, I discovered that I am (hang on, let me stand up) an addict. I am addicted to chapstick. In a very bad way. I'm sure I have, at any point in time, 5-7 chapsticks somewhere in my house.

Well, Thursday night they up and left me. Or maybe there was some intervention from friends and family going on that I didn't know about...regardless, I'll tell you how my night went.

My lips got the itching. I got up to go check my purse. No chapstick. I went to check the bathroom drawer. No chapstick. Kitchen junk drawer, no chapstick. Backpack. No chapstick. Other bathroom drawers. No chapstick. (You should start reading faster for more emphasis here since this is when I went into the addict-junkie mode). I looked in toy baskets. Under toy baskets. Behind furniture. I lifted a couch. I accused my husband of taking them. I begged my husband to go buy me some. I looked under my bed. I looked under the treadmill (did find a sock and a pacifier). At this point, I was about to go nuts. You have no idea what it feels like to just need something on your lips.

I announced (at 11:03 pm) that I was going to Walgreen's to buy some chapstick. I bought three. Two of the regular old one's and my personal favorite, Burt's Bees. Which by the way, costs an arm and a leg- but they know their customers well...

A nanosecond after I payed, I was uncapping that Burt's Bees and I shellacked my lips. All I can say is, aaaaahhhhhhhh. *and sigh*

When I got home, I walked in and told my husband that I thought I was addicted to chapstick.

He said,


"You think?"

The Sign Reads...

I'm going to preface this post with a disclaimer stating that I am not complaining. Believe what you want.

Y'all know what it's like to take the kids to the grocery store, so I don't even need to go there...

but you know how there is that special, reserved, area for the kid carts? Wouldn't it just make all sorts of crazy sense that you should reserve those parking spaces near those special carts for the shoppers with kids?

*small tangent while I'm on my soapbox* And how about this. I appreciate that someone's 16 year old is performing over and above at their job which entails returning the carts to the store front....BUT, can you leave a couple out there for some of us lugging 3 kids?

Anyway, I went to the store today. (And I did manage to score a spot near the kid carts, so I got on board my emotional happy train and headed on in.) *one more tangent*You don't need me to tell you that H.E.B. is on top of their marketing game- but they're now facing serious issues with some of us moms.

Upon entering, they had a toy tool-set (complete with 42 pieces..nice for clean-up, sure to be lost within one hours play, and potential choking hazards included) displayed for my Sebi to see.
He didn't get one. I know, I suck. And if he knew the phrasing, I'm sure he would have let me know it too.

Back, to the subject..So we're heading back to the car and I've got my grocery cart full of my groceries and my 3 beautiful boys. Once I get to the car, I begin the process of packing the groceries in the trunk and then start loading up the kids one-by-one.

As I'm doing all of this, a man in a big truck comes and parks in the coveted spot right next to the kid cart return. He gets out and strolls into the store, solo. I would like for everyone to think that I did not harbor any ill feelings toward this man.

Back to transferring groceries and kids...By the time I've gotten the groceries loaded, re-filled two sippy-cups with milk, and gotten 1 out of the 3 buckled in, along comes solo guy back to his truck.

Now I'm feeling bad because,

• I did harbor ill feelings about this man
  
• and he was pretty much in and out of the store.

As my mind is scolding itself and I'm getting the other two kids buckled in, my thoughts get interupted by these words:

"Can I back out?"

It's solo truck guy. And apparently the door that I had open to get my child into his carseat is impedeing his swift return from whence he came.

He kindly shut my car door for me- since I was on the other side of the car

loading up my other kid

in a parking spot with a sign that read,

"Child Cart Return"

"When I was...Younger/Single/Smarter" (post title, courtesy of Emily)

When I was younger...

• I thought I'd be married at 25, have kids at 27, and oh yeah, be a doctor. Little did I know I'd get pregnant at 28, be married shortly after the birth of my first child, and still not be writing any prescriptions.


• I couldn't handle dishonesty. I had to inform the WalMart lady that we should have been charged for the big (not small) pastries from the bakery department. Nowadays, I continually lie to myself while at the grocery store about the calories in those same pastries. They don't count while you're shopping. And I'm certain there may have been a time or two when one was eaten and not taken into account at the check-out line.


• I watched Bob Vila and I loved it. My dad would walk by, shake his head, and smile. But when my sister got her first house and was doing renovations- I was the one who suggested we remove all the outlet and plug coverings before they painted.


• I was in band. Marching band. I played the bass drum. I'm also almost 5 feet tall.


• My dad was, and still is, my hero.

When I was single...

• I rarely was "single"
  

When I was smarter...

• I think I've just gotten there, and boy does it feel good to know where you're headed.

What The Blog Has Taught Me Thus Far

I thought it would be fun to walk through the archives. And since I learned that nifty little link trick, what better way to reminisce some of the best times I've spent here in front of the computer peeking into your lives, dear blogging friends...


The Blog has taught me that men can be fashionable, but babies sure make it easier on them. Check out Tim with his "man bag" in this post.

All these years I thought that I had a black thumb. Little did I know that I was just using the wrong "chemicals" in my garden, as shown in this picture.

I can no longer get mad at my husband for leaving rolls of toilet paper throughout the house. Apparently, this is common practice in America as this delightful picture made me aware of.....not to take away from the beautiful picture, mind you ;)

I'm sure I've got more that I would love to post, but I gotta meet the BloMo deadline, and these are my 3 favorite sites! wait, 4!...just got a new one, and this post just cracked me up when I read it some time ago.

...and on a side note- I think I kicked butt on that exam tonight, so thanks for all the well wishes.

Honestly, I would just like to relax for the next two days. I even thought about scheduling a massage, but we all know how that went last time...

Me. Pregnant...With Twins.

Snapfish:Photo:Shared

I was fishing through some snapfish photos, and just when I thought there were no pictures of little ole me pregnant with twins......BAM! Roxie, my sister-in-law, pulled through. just had to share.

And if you think my belly is big in this first shot, I still went almost three more months where I actually got EVEN BIGGER! And I had this phenomenon where they would shift, so one minute I'd look 3 months pregnant, and in the next split second- I would look 8 months! If you don't believe me, ask Megan. She saw it first hand and couldn't believe it.

**shout-out** Thanks Rox. This meant a lot to me. And Megan. You were the most wonderful friend during the whole pregnancy...and before, and after, and continually!

HEy Megan,

do you have any pics from the shower??? (it was a beautiful shower, y'all.)

She and Tim wrote (and animated) a book about a little fish named Sebi who was getting two new brothers. It was so heartfelt and I will always, always, always cherish it.

And there was banana bread. And Megan kicks butt in the banana bread department...There were many wonderful points about the whole shower... really. I just love banana bread.

...so I managed two posts tonight. I'm gonna attribute that one to seeing myself pregnant and getting all hormonal.