The pool boy removes the swimmy

Mr. Hall, pool boy in residence, doing his morning maintenance.




When the wee Mac was one years old, I had a thing about his nuk. I didn't want his nuk to be taken away. Mac was calmer with the nuk. More pliable and cuddly. My son is, as they say, all boy. He is constant motion, imagination and spitfire. Good stuff.

Mr. Hall, in no uncertain terms, took the nuk away. I was upset by the whole deal. Mac, not so much.

Needless to say, this issue was once again raised when we let him loose in the pool.

Behold, the four year old Mac, all little boy goodness, with his swimmy!

Sigh. I am a fan of the swimmy. A BIG RABID FAN. Mr. Hall felt it was time to take the swimmy away. Let the boy learn how to really swim he says. He's never going to learn with that thing on he says. And he took the swimmy away. Just like that.

It was really scary for me, letting Mac swim without it. But he can. And OOOOH CAN HE!! He is thriving without the swimmy. He is diving down, with his wee swim goggles, fetching the swim sticks. Now Mac doesn't want to wear his swimmy anymore.

AND there ya go. My son is growing up too dang fast. sniff sniff . . .

What is the difference between a Mom and a Dad?

Make no mistake, my daughter is smart, loving and full of goodness. But she lied the other day. I told her twice to clean her room, she assured me she had. I looked her in the eye and headed up stairs. To Check.

She didn't flinch.

THE ROOM WAS NOT CLEAN.

At this point I kind of exploded in that finger waving mom way. She started to cry. I told her I was upset not only because she didn't do what I told her to do but that she lied. Didn't she think I was going to find out? I felt bad because she was crying but dang Pancake. Really?

Then it was time for bed. Still sniffly, she didn't want to hug, say prayers or nothing. So I probe. Turns out she doesn't like me telling her what to do all the time. This is upsetting. I try my best not to laugh, because it really is bothering her. Then I tell her that Mommie is told what to do every day. I'm told when to show up to work, what to wear. I'm told where to park, when to eat lunch. Being told what to do is part of life. Best to get use to it.

She's still sniffly and it's not helping this explanation. Exasperated, I call in her Daddy.

"YOU try explaining this to her!" And I leave the room and listen.

He says, "If you don't listen to us, you're going to get in trouble. Now goodnight." He flips off the light.

And she says, "Ok, night Daddy."

yep.

mmmhhmm.

that right there is the difference between mommy and daddy. :)

This is why Mr. Hall married me, right here

The previous owners of our house planted some gnarly bushes. The root system looks a little like that, right up there. Topside, the bushes are just as knotted and bound together. The bushes grow low too. Perfect housing for mold and mice. The mice, in turn, dig up the rest of the yard. Not in a nice way either.

Needless to say, even before we put an offer on the house, Mr. Hall has been eyeing them. Silently warning them of their demise.

It's not an easy job. It requires chainsaws, hoes and some metal spear thing. It doesn't help that the roots and the bushes are embedded in loose rocks. The golf ball size rocks act as mulch I guess.

So I'm watching Mr. Hall, my beloved hubby, reclaiming our yard. He works efficiently, digging and chainsawing. He spears and pushes. Never swearing, never huffing. Just digging them up. I offer to help.

We look at each other. There is NO WAY that's a good idea. We laugh a little.

So I offer this: That guy is Jud Crandall. From Pet Cemetary. I say random quotes from him while Mr. Hall digs the unholy bush asunder:

"That there is the old Indian burial ground. The Indians used that till the land went sour."

And . . . "We best not be burying our cat there, sometimes. . . DEAD IS BETTER!"

And on and on I go. Which makes him smile.

And THAT's why he's married to me, right there!! :)

Turning my world around

Yesterday, I wiped my son's arms, legs and cheeks with a wet wipe. Then, I carefully applied four band aids over the mosquito bites he had scratched open. It was just wonderful being able to tend to him.

I am feeling better these days. I feel the first trimester giving way to normal now. I can be more present in my own life, get up from the couch and go for walks. My belly is poking out now, I'm starting to show a little.

I am unbelievably besotted by all of this. So thankful, so thankful.

I am fifteen weeks now, the wee bebe is the size of a navel orange. The top of my womb is 3 to 4 inches below my belly button.

I'm so unbelievably happy, we are so blessed.

:)

Let's all hold hands and pretends this is real

So. I go through food jags with this pregnancy. Stuff I know I can eat that won't make me more morning sickness. For a while it was a bean burrito, a chicken quesidilla with two sides of guacamole at taco bell. Every day. Sometimes twice a day.

Currently it's two # 6 vegetarian subs with no sprouts and extra avocado sauce from jimmy johns subs. I eat one at noon and one at 3-4 pm.

It's getting different though.

Something is changing AND OH MY GOODNESS I HOPE THIS IS THE SECOND TRIMESTER FINALLY KICKING IN. I don't have to get up at 5.30 anymore. Seriously, 5.30 am every day for the last month or so. And I don't have to pee every half hour. My super sonic sense of smell has calmed the heck down.

And. . . sniff sniff. . . . I don't have to use a combo of stool softeners and miralax every day. Because my stuff stopped working, just STOPPED WORKING around week 5. Sorry. I know, I know. TMI.

I can't help it. I'm just giggly today.

I hope this is me turning a corner. I hope! I know my cheeks feel better. I'm not holding my head in my hands so much. My face is moving and I'm talking. Smiling and giggling even.

OH MY GOODNESS!! What is this, is this for reals?? Is this energy?? Oh here's hoping.

MEANWHILE in related news. SQUEE!!!!!! SQUEE!!!!!!! (don't judge me) SQUEE!!!!!! SQUEE!!!!!!!

This is why I'm married, right here

was morning sickness sick on monday morning. took off of work in the am, decided to go in on the pm.

basically spent the morning on the couch, with mah bucket.

Around 11.00 Mr. Hall finishes a foot rub and says, all serious and annoyed, "OK . . you need to get ready and leave. For work. I can't get anything done with you here. It's frustrating!"

And it's true.

He spent the morning fetching me things, adjusting my pillows, loving me. And that man has projects. Ripping up bushes and mowing lawn projects. And nothing gets done when I'm home and sicky.

Cause he's tending to me.

AND THAT IS WHY I MARRIED MR. HALL

right there!

Hey NURSE! Stories from my time at the county jail

This will, most likely, be my last post about my time at the county jail. Which is why I've resisted writing it for so long. After this, there isn't much more to say about the subject.

Don't worry though, I'll still write posts about my crazy adventures as a nurse.

When I tell people I was a jail nurse, they ask if I was ever scared of the inmates. I tell them no, the inmates were easy. First of all, it was county lock up. They were locked up for drunk driving, marijuana charges, failure to pail child support or just being a disorderly conduct regular. It was not prison. Most people were doing a year or less. Mostly for being a dumbass.

Also, the inmates want things from you. So they are charming and nice.

The problem with working in the county jail was the guards. Let me state that I would never, ever, ever want to be a guard. It's all watching the inmates, wearing horrible polyester uniforms and being underpaid. It's shift work and boring.

It's also a highly masculine group. All crew cuts, dick jokes and guns on the hips. Even the women were masculine, mostly butch lesbians. The guards didn't like the nursing staff. We were viewed as interlopers. Tending to the inmates with bleeding hearts.

For me, it was an uneasy relationship at first. As a nurse, I carried a disdainful moniker. However, I am a lovely and chipper individual. It's hard not to like me. Also, I don't bristle at dick jokes.

What made the biggest difference was that I never tried to be part of their boy's club. I never tried to be tough, hard or mean. In fact, I was kind and caring. These are areas I excel at. I also kept my head down and worked without complaint. This eventually broke down a number of barriers. A number of the guards softened and would seek out my opinion. Perhaps there was even respect.

Well, perhaps not.

Part of my job was to triage emergencies. On certain shifts, I was a lone nurse with no back up. If an inmate had a problem I couldn't handle, I would have them sent out to an ER. The guards didn't like this. To send an inmate out means a lot of work for them. They couldn't block my decision, but they sure as hell could try.

Such was the case with a pregnant inmate who reported spotting in her seventh month. This was not something I was qualified to treat. I wanted her out and in the hands of an ER. A lead guard, a man in his fifties, visited my office. I liked this guard. He and I would talk about turkey hunting. Which is more difficult than it sounds apparently.

We stood in my office, facing each other. He was trying to explain how it wasn't possible to send her out. I was tired, about 8 months pregnant with my son. I was very aware of how I appeared to him. Some chick nurse, pandering to an inmate, bleeding heart blah blah. He did his best to intimidate me. He was a good foot taller, much beefier and lest we forget, black gun on the hip.

But here's the thing, he couldn't stop me. Guards could not overrule me. I knew this. So I let the guard go on about how this inmate was lying and had lied to every nurse. How she was playing me for a fool. How I was forcing him to waste his guards' time. His anger flushed through me and I had to sit down.

But I didn't care. I didn't care if she was lying. I didn't care if she was faking. I didn't care about any of it. She was my patient and I had made the call. It wasn't about her, or me. I am a nurse, I get things done for those in need. The guard wasn't going to stop me. I was plowing through his wall of no and he knew it.

After this incident, things soured considerably. It just wasn't fun anymore. I think the concrete walls were getting to me. But, this was one of the last jobs I had as a nurse. I was climbing my way towards nurse practitioner. I was kind of done with it anyway. I left the job about a month later.

I eventually found out the inmate was lying. She would use the ER trips to smoke dope. Against my better judgement I felt insulted by this. I had been used. My powers of good were used for evil.

I eventually saw that guard again. At a grocery store no less. He yelled out "Hey NURSE!" Which is how I was usually addressed at the jail. We said polite hellos. He bought a box of coronas and one lime on top. Then he walked to his car.

I CAN SAY THIS.

There is not one person undeserving of care, no matter the lying, cheating, stealing, killing or the ugly. It can be challenging for me. But, I try to remember I am hard wired for mercy, kindness and caring. These are my gifts and no better place to use them then as a nurse.

Mrs. Hall, not just for gays anymore

I've not posted in a week? WHOAH!

well, here's to Neil Patrick Harris and his awesome Tony opening :)

Mr. Hall says, "Stop telling that story"

We all have anecdotes from our life. Stuff that we look back on and laugh.

Sometimes, my anecdotes have fringes of self imposed danger. Not little danger though, BIG danger I didn't see at the time.

These are the stories I bring up and Mr. Hall asks me to stop telling.

Por ejemplo(s):

1.

When I was 19 I lived in a studio apartment with a guy. I lived in the walk in closet, slept on an army cot (from the army surplus store). He was an artist. We didn't date OH MY GOODNESS THANK GOD WE DIDN'T DATE.

Anywho, he liked to use pigs' heads as part of his "art". He would buy them at the butcher's. I CANNOT EMPHASIS THE QUOTES ENOUGH. If you and I were talking, in person, I'd be rolling my eyes and using air quotes. """"""""his art"""""""""" Thus, it was not unusual to open my fridge and see a pig's head. He also like to sew army patches into the skin.

So I am remembering this story. And telling it to Mr. Hall, who was no where near me at the time. Then I start to launch into a tirade that he ate my chocolate chip mint ice cream because I turned vegan for a week. I was pissed. Still am.

And Mr. Hall starts making weird noises so I stop.

2.

When I was 16 my Dad bought me a small, second hand motorcycle. To drive a motorcycle one needs a general awareness of how to work a reverse stick shift, a sense of safety and WHAT THE HELL??? I WAS A FLIGHTY UNSAFE 16 YEAR OLD GIRL!! Needless to say I crashed the cycle in the first week. No harm though, I just locked the breaks and slid. Ripping open my knees and cracking my helmet into three sections.

This story pushes him over the edge.

He squirms and makes noises and looks like he is in pain. And I remind him it was ok. I mean, I'm telling the story right?

And he says, "No, you have to stop. You tell these stories and it's just not right. You need someone looking after you because you are so free and full of adventure. And you tell these stories and it scares the hell out of me. It's like you're fading right before my eyes. Like the people in the back to the future photo."

AND WITH THAT. . . .

I stop telling that story.

Any suggestions for a new car?

I realize there are a lot bigger things going on in this world then my car troubles. But please, bear with me.

Today, after months and months of dealing with it, I called a mechanic and told him the following:

"When I'm driving the car and I hit the 20-25 mph mark i feel a kick, like the car is being kicked from behind. It's like the car jumps. (he asked some questions and I clarified-) it only happens in the lower speed numbers and not in the higher speed numbers, for ex-it doesn't happen when I am driving 55-65. It doesn't happen when I am turning.

It's very annoying because my head hits the head rest when it kicks. (I didn't tell him the part about my morning sickness and how I really don't want to be jostled when driving like this because it only fuels my pukiness. He didn't need to know).

Also, there is a bumper issue which my husband does not want addressed. (I said this a few times)"

So, I bought my jetta when graduated as a nurse. I've had the car longer then I've been Mrs. Hall. I love that car. It has HEATED LEATHER SEATS.

It also has a low wheel base and big stupid rims. Which means it sucks for winter. I've gotten stuck and slippy slidey all over the place. This is no good. Winter is like 6 months in this state.

I've also blown the tires like 4 times. Just driving. When you have big rims, WHICH ARE FACTORY ISSUED, the tires are touchy. Again, with winter being a large part of this state, the roads, they being made of cement, freeze and form cracks and potholes. I am careful but the jetta tires are not up to such torment.

Then there is this little baby in mah belly. Which is still making me pukey and I love her so but really, enough already, I'm 13 weeks. enough. I love you little Maggie pie but please. Mr. Hall would like to thank you for the c cups but I DIGRESS.

Back to the jetta.

Another feature of the jetta it the ITSY BITSY SMALL BACK SEAT. Three carseats will not fit.

All of which produces a sad for me. We will be looking to get it fixed then sending it on it's way most likely.

I love that car. It was my first grown up car. I had a POS datsun before that car. When I bought the Jetta I said would drive it until the floor fell out.

Looks like it is.

So. Any suggestions for a new car?

AND NO. WE WON'T BE GETTING A MINI VAN. I AM TOO COOL FOR THAT.

:)

When I turned off the car, Pancake was crying

We've been going to our current church for about a year. Most every Sunday. Pancake has her own special kid service. The kidz crew puts on a skit and song. Lessons are learned, songs are sung and fun is had.

But make no mistake. Pancake is effected by all of this. She doesn't talk much about it. Which frustrates me. I want to be there for her, listening to her questions, letting her know it's all right. But she's just quiet about it.

So. I do what I can to coach her through this. I play the Christian station and sing along. Letting her know what I'm feeling. We look through the Bible and talk about the stories. I tell her when I'm scared I pray. Then I show her how.

Such was the case last night. We were listening to the Christian station and wowsers there was some whoopers. I got all weepy and stirred up. Which happens in church too. Sometimes I feel the spirit well up in me and I can't sing for the tears flooding my eyes.

Then I turn off the car. And I hear her crying too.

I say, "Pancake, are you ok?" And she says, "Yes Momma, that's just a really powerful song." Then I gathered her out of back seat and showed her I was just as moved. Then we hugged for a while.

****************************************

Last year, she saw me baptized. She had no idea what was going on. So in the next few nights, I think I'll have her watch this movie.

Then I'll tell her what it felt like.

:)

Splish-e-Splash

How do I describe what happened last night?

It was hot, ~ 100 degrees. The kids jumped in the pool and I hesitated. I stood by the side of the pool and then temptation bit me. I jumped in the warm water.

Then, after a spell, the kids were done. Hungry. Off they went to eat sammiches. Mr. Hall appeared with snorkeling goggles and feety fins. Which, I can say now, is a complete game changer.

I mean, I like our pool, love it in fact, but having snorkeling goggles and feety fins . . . changed my world.

I must have spent two hours diving in the deep end. Popping up and taking deep breaths, all loud and gulpy. Then plunging down, trying to touch the drain. I opened my entire body, stretched out my arms and legs so wide. It felt amazing.

I didn't realize how hunched I've become, how much nausea grips my body. I didn't realize swimming would free me from all that. It felt divine as I stretched out, making myself into a big upside down L. I was so weightless. So graceful as I glided around. Gravity had no hold, I was so free.

And the more I swam, the freer I became.

Then I would dive down a bit, flip onto my back and stare up through a sheet of water. I would blow these bubbles and let them float to the surface. Big, globby air balloons of my own making.

Then my body would float to the top. I'd pop up again, all giggly. Mr. Hall was on the side, watching my delight. I made him promise we'd never be without a pool.

Then more gulps and down I went again. :)

random thoughts and four months

I vant to write a post but don't really have much to say.

I can say I saw "Ed Wood" the movie. That was charming. A bit long in the tooth but charming nonetheless.

I can say that Lady Gaga irritates me. I just don't feel all her whickety wackity get ups are organic. She is not explaining who she is with the meat dress, she is hiding in plain site. Which means she's really not fessing up to anyone about anything about her. Which is no good. Come on Lady Gaga, show us who you really are.

I know this for sure, NECK TATTOOS DO NOT LOOK GOOD ON THE OTHER SIDE OF 50. I know because I work with a lot of veterans. A lot of tattoos pass through my office. again. don't get kneck tattoos.

Still tired and a little pukey. But if you want to more know more about that then read the last 5 or 10 posts.

Which brings me to this.

I am four months pregnant.

My belly is starting to stick out.

And I was in teh lunch room the other day and someone was asking about it and I started to ball. Because I'm so happy.

So very very very very happy.

OK that's all I's got fer today.

You make the call

Welcome back to YOU make the call!

I had to duct tape my bumper so it wouldn't sag as a I drove home. AND NO, THAT'S NOT MY CAR UP THERE. I have a jetta.

Anywhoodle.

This is where you all come in. Let's examine what happened to cause such duct tape usage and decide if any of it is my fault.

First, in a bizarre twist, I damaged my front bumper by backing up. The concrete stop (at the end of the parking spot) was held down by two rebars (one through either end). As I was backing up, I heard a crunch and then Styrofoam came a popping up. One of the rebars had risen up while I was parked, it was half way out of the ground.

This is what dislodged my bumper, it pulled my right front bumper out from underneath as I backed up.

SO!! my question is this-could the rebar have been that far out of the ground when I parked? Could the 100 degree heat have pushed it up while I was parked? How much blame do I need to take here?

Leave your decision in the comments.

Be kind people, this is the second parking lot incident I have had, damaging my car but JUST DRIVING IT.

:)

yeah, i'm a little bit evil

It's been a long stupid ass winter yo. And spring kept throwing 50 degree rainy cold days our way. But now, summer has officially broke open. Which is awesome. Cause we bought a house with a pool.

And ya know THE BEST PART ABOUT HAVING A POOL IN YOUR BACKYARD. THAT CAME WITH THE HOUSE?

When the kids drive you nuts you throw them in the pool. Instant harmony.

When you are hot and sweaty and yelling at the kids too much, you go down the slide and get in the pool. Instant harmony.

And the best part of the pool? It's that you dont' have to suck it in or shave all that well because it's just you, the Mr. and the kids. Sure, you could invite neighbors but then you would have to make small talk. And that would require wanting to share. I not want to share.

Instead, I sort of just um revel in it. Kind of feel superior and laugh. Because the neighbors, all they have is a blow up plastic pool in their driveway. Which is filled with hose water. All cold.

But dude, look we got up there. MWWAHH HAA HAA!@!@!

yeah, i'm a little bit evil.

ok , back in the pool guys!

And make mommy a margarita!

Then I (didn't) make my mom cry

So, went to buy Pancake's flower girl dress last Sunday. It went well. It was me, the little girl and my Mom. Pancake will be a flower girl for two weddings this summer, my sister in law's and my brother's wedding.

My brother's wedding being a SHOT GUN WEDDING!!

Then, as my Mom is dropping us off at home, she cops an attitude. I've offended her, I just know it. Only I don't know why because she's all passive aggressive and gets in a snit and doesn't tell me what the hell I did. I tried calling her twice after that. She said, through what I can only imagine was gritted teeth, "I'M FINE. NOTHING IS WRONG!"

HUH! WOMEN!

Yesterday, she was over and it all came out. Apparently I was acting like my sister in law's wedding is more important than my brother's wedding. Because I let my sister in law help pick out the flower girl dress. (I was texting photos of the dress while Pancake was trying it on). I didn't text my brother's fiancee because well, my sister in law gets first choice. She asked Pancake first.

This upset my Mom. Only SHE DIDN'T SAY ANYTHING BUT INSTEAD WORKED HERSELF INTO A TIZZY. So I never knew she was upset until she drove away all pissy when she dropped us off.

And truth be told, I am more excited about my sister in law's wedding! My baby sister in law found a good man that loves her and they're getting married. He's an awesome guy this guy. He really loves her. He can withstand all manner of alpha females that is my husband's side of the family. They try to mow him down and it doesn't work. He's artful about it though. Not loud or dominating. Just tricky and subtle.

Just like Mr. Hall, the man knows how to handle the alpha female energies. It's really neat to watch!

And I'm technically closer to my baby sister in law then my brother. My brother is a bit of a dumbass and kind of selfish. Which is why he's been dating his girlfriend for 10 years and it took a surprise pregnancy to make him pony up a ring.

So yeah, I'm more excited about my sister in law's wedding.

So I'm thinking all of this in my head while my mom is going on and on about how I made her so mad. How she built this interior fury at me, on the ride home from the bridal shop. And I'm telling her to knock it off. If she's mad at me I need to know- so I can address it. She needs to let me know so she doesn't get her feelings hurt so bad.

And she says, "No Holly, I need to do it how I do it. I get mad, blow up and need a few days to calm down. That's my way."

(I kid you not THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT SHE SAID.)

So then I say, "I'm sorry Mom, I am more excited about my brother's wedding then my sister in laws. I promise!"

HURUMPH!

And she smiled and we hugged.

Because sometimes a little lie helps a whole lot!

:)

My boy

I wish dinosaur train was an hour. That way, Mac would cuddle for an hour. He's a good snuggler when he wants to be.

It's a special Mommy and Mac day and oh, how fun!

He tells me jokes like, "what did the banana say to the teeth? don't bite me!!" (then he takes a big bite out of his banana.}

Then.

THEN.

At the park I see him, playing with the other boys. He's not as aggressive and pushy. He takes being knocked down well and doesn't snot up. He's in there, playing hard. Getting all sweaty and summer leg bruises.

Then.

THEN.

He is climbing up the stairs to the slide. A tiny little girl in a pink puffy dress toddles behind him. He reaches out his hand and helps her up. "I'll help you cause I'm bigger." he says.

MY HEART EXPLODED WHEN HE SAID THIS!!!

He's such a good kid. so proud. He'll make such an excellent big brother :)

ok, off to nap.

More adventures await us after we rest! :)