Day two of the Day-offness

Had the day off today because of "low census" which basically means there are no doctors hanging around the office seeing patients because they are all in the OR taking things out of patients. Since it is normally my clinic day and there were no patients scheduled...guess who got the day off...ME. That's fine...I had things to do...things I should have done seven years ago.

See...I got remarried seven years ago. I GUESS you're SUPPOSED to get your name changed on your Social Security card right away. Well. I didn't. This year in July, when my driver's license expired, I went tripping merrily into the DMV (don't believe that for a minute, NO ONE is merry at the DMV) only to be told that my name and social security number didn't match and so NO DRIVER'S LICENSE FOR YOU! I kept saying "you're kiddin me". The woman behind the counter who I believe has been there since the wheel was invented, said "no ma'am...you are a NO MATCH FLAG". And then she scowled at me. Like I'd killed a kitten with my bare hands. I scooped up all my assorted miscellaneous identification and certification papers and stomped out of there mumbling the whole way. And then I didn't do anything about it until January. Guess I showed them huh?

Today, since I had the day off and the sick children were well enough to resume their usual escapades, I decided that I'd take care of all this once and for all. So I called the Social Security office which is in the WORST section of the city and was informed that I couldn't get my name changed because my license was invalid...but I can't get a new license because my Social Security card has the wrong name on it...are you detecting a government plot here? The woman on the phone finally tells me that if I bring a copy of a medical record in with my marriage license, they will change my name...however...it must be STAMPED and DATED and SIGNED. No exceptions...thank you very much. I huffed around for awhile and she wasn't changing her mind AT ALL. I called the hospital to get a STAMPED DATED SIGNED copy of a medical record and was told that I could have one for 75 cents on MONDAY because today, they were moving. OH COME ON!!!! I begged, I pleaded. I got my way. The woman says "but you have to sign a consent". Wait...let's think about this...I have to sign a consent to give a copy of MY medical record to ME? And wait, wait...I have to pay for that. I didn't ask any questions because I didn't want to tick off anyone who had any kind of OFFICIAL RECORD POWER. I paid my 75 cents, and off I went to the Social Security office.

Big scary guy behind the desk with a GUN says..."what you here for?" "name change" "married?" "yup." "Press that number one on that key pad". And out spits a number on a piece of paper. 26. I look at the "Now Serving" sign...it says FIFTEEN. I picked out a chair and set up camp.

After about 40 minutes, my number comes up and I bolted for the counter. Had all my documentation ready, spread it all out, tried to crack a couple of jokes and got the evil, hairy eyeball from the woman behind the counter. Nothing funny at the Social Security office apparently. She types a little bit, GIVES ME ALL MY DOCUMENTATION BACK, and says you'll get a new card in 10 days. NEXT! All that...for THAT? Okay...I check my watch and think I can make it to the DMV!!! I'll be all done! Legal in all ways!

DMV. Waiting in line. Girl behind the counter is having a fascinating discussion with the clerk two windows down about when the Dairy Queen opens. I finally get up to the window and tell her that I really should have been here in July, blah blah..they sent me away...blah blah...have this social security office receipt, blah blah...new license...blah. She yells down to another counter "HEY, SHE AIN'T BEEN HERE SINCE JULY AND SHE WAS FLAGGED!". All eyes in the place look at me like I've got scabies. I said "but I don't have my new card yet...I just went today..." "TODAY????" "Yes today, haha...anyway...I need to get a new license..." "Not until you get that CARD. NEXT!!!".

I could adopt ten children from a third world country and I wouldn't be put through this much hassle. The bad part is...even if I would have done this all on time...it STILL would have been an ordeal! So. I'm still driving with a license that expired in July. And really behaving myself by the way. But at least my taxes are properly labeled now! Homeland Security can just scratch me off their list!

ALL TOGETHER NOW!

"All you need is LOVE...YAHT-DA-DA-DAH-DAHHHH, All you need is LOVE...YAHT-DA-DA-DAH-DAHHH! (sing it like the Beatles friends!)

This one of the 10,000 heart decorations that Emma made for her "holiday party" that she thinks she's having. That pink SCHMEAR on the lacey doily...glitter glue! YEAH BABY! We were ALL wearin that stuff by the end of the crafting session!!!

I'd like to withdraw my resume please....

I have a full time job as the clinic nurse in a three surgeon neurosurgery office. I spend my days discussing the finer points of lumbar laminectomies with people and debating whether or not the stuff we drained out of a brain abscess was staphylococcus or some other weird pus generating germ. Really fascinating stuff...I swear. Usually around 1:30 or 2:00 I start wistfully thinking that I'd really like to be at home playing with play dough with my daughter and imagine us playing happily in her room introducing My Little Pony to Dora and Boots so that they can discuss the latest in exploring and pony hairstyles.

Today....I stayed home. Emma has a cold and sounded grunky this morning (medical term grun-KEE - to be filled with grunk). My 15 year old wasn't feeling well either, so I (mother of the year) told him he could stay home. I called off work last night and blissfully made plans for the day. Waffles, chocolate chip cookies, chicken noodle soup. Ahhhhh.....a perfect day of domesticity.

Things were going according to my grand plan. I made waffles, started the soup, made the cookies, things were looking good. Filled the dishwasher, washed the pots and pans that wouldn't fit, took the dogs out, brought the dogs in, asked Emma to get dressed, fed the birds the left over waffles, picked up the house, asked Emma to get dressed again, called and made Greg an eye appointment, TOLD Emma to get dressed, tried to explain to the mortgage company that the check was on the way, GOT Emma dressed. Tried to talk two sick children into eating lunch. Failed. Emma agreed to eat several Oreos. Gave in. Picked up the house again, washed more dishes. Put the soup away because no one ate any. Dogs out...dogs in...more juice...decided I'd make some beads to sell on Ebay...ended up getting out green play dough...gave up making beads...dogs barking.."STOP IT!!!!"...dogs barking "FROSTY!!!" PEACHES!!". Cleaned up green play dough...averted tragedy with milk glass left on coffee table. Hung up Valentines decoration for the "holiday party" Emma thinks she's having. Talked to my ex-husband twice and my husband three times, dogs out...dogs in...picked up house. Woke up 15 year old. Cut pineapple, tried to plan dinner. Child yelling "DOGS EAT DOGS EAT DOGS EAT" while marching around the house with play food. Child throwing plastic green peppers at dog...dog yapping with delight. Fifteen year old hiding in room...finally finished set of beads..posted to Ebay...start dinner...child RUNNING RUNNING..."STOP RUNNING!! EMMA I MEAN IT!!!! YOU"RE GOING TO GET IT!!!" Child mocks mother and runs with delight into the living room trailing plastic food from big basket o' plastic food. DOGS BARKING!!!

Discussing brain abscesses is like lying on the beach. I have tomorrow off TOO...(giggles hysterically).

Pretty sure their feet have all snapped off

Negative NINE here. I guess I wouldn't go out to eat either. But don't they need calories? Dang, I know it's from Lowe's but it's better than pecking paint chips off a house! I think they're snubbing me. I'll bet they have on their little birdy muck-lucks and they're laughing at me from behind a bush while I was skittering out to the feeder in my socks with my paltry bag of feed. They've probably already eaten at the IHOP dumpster. Freaks.

OH....and all the 'stuff' in the background (whispers) N-E-I-G-H-B-O-R'S!

Running on empty

The end of the day is typically chaos for me. It usually involves a frantic rush of phone calls from patients who have waited until 2 minutes before we close to call me and ask questions about some life or death situation. I have to pick up Emma at 5:30 from day-care, so once I have the last phone call done and the receptionist puts the phones over to the service I SPRINT for the door, coat half on, name badge in hand all ready to swipe out, while yelling "I'm OUT!" I then have an eleven minute jog across campus that includes 4 flights of stairs, 2 escalators, a pedestrian bridge over four lanes of traffic and a revolving door. Then it's in the car and across town which takes AT LEAST 20 minutes and then another 7 minutes to the day-care center where I skid into the parking lot sideways and sprint for THEIR door.

No...actually, I just made that last part up...it sounded more dramatic. Because really by that time I'm noodley and tired and it's all I can do to drag myself out of the car to the door and summons up my last bit of strength to put the combination into the door at the school. Emma greets me with flying hair and arms outstretched and I always perk up at that point.

Tonight, however (ominous chord of music), I needed gas.

I don't know WHAT it is about getting gas, but I'd rather have my skin removed with a cheese grater than pump my own gas. Especially when it's cold, or rainy, or really any kind of weather..but remember my previous entries about it being cold? Well it's actually drifting toward RIDICULOUSLY cold at this point and we're supposed to have a low of like 22 BELOW ZERO tonight. That ain't right. And I'm not ABOUT to pump my own gas in that kind of weather. For Pete's sake my feet could snap right off! (refer to previous bird pity posts).

So I cruised into this teeny tiny weeny BP station that I pass on the way home. They proudly advertise "WE PUMP YOUR GAS FOR FREE!" So I take advantage of their good nature every chance I get. Tonight....the entire automobile driving WORLD was parked in their teeny tiny weeny LOT. Lazy freaks. So I pulled my lazy freaky self right behind this guy who was parked next to the pump. I noticed there was no gas pumping thingy stuck in the side of his car and figured he must be finished. As I and the rest of the bazillion cars waited, he proceeded to leisurely wash his windows with that sponge thing on a stick...and then squeegeed his windows carefully using the other side of the sponge on a stick, CAREFULLY AND PAINFULLY WIPING THE SQUEEGEE between EVERY SQUEEGE! After the first time he did it...I started thinking about how he must not be right in the head. After the second time he did it, I started thinking he was trying to piss us all off. After the THIRD time he did the SAME front window...I started planning ways to remove his SPLEEN through his left NOSTRIL.

Okay...FIRST..I'm LATE at this point and B...It's COLD! The fact that I'm in a warm car not withstanding, the old guy pumping the gas could lose a scaly FOOT out there! So I started making passive aggressive faces...then I put my car in reverse and forward a couple of times. He lazily dipped the sponge in what must have been DAMN NEAR FROZEN water in that sponge thing's bucket! Finally, the car that was in the FIRST pump space drove off and I made a big production of driving around this guy and backing right up to his front grill so that I could be next to the pump. I was glaring at everyone at this point because DAMN IT, I just sprinted across an entire hospital to get here and I need someone to pump my gas!

I sat there for a while and finally this older guy with leopard earmuffs (really....old guy...leopard earmuffs!), came up and tapped on my passenger window. I have never been able to work that control panel for those windows and after I'd rolled down EVERY window but the one that Leopard Muffs was standing at, I finally hit the right button. This old guy was a study in efficiency. Grabbed the money, pumped the gas, smacked the back of my SUV and yelled "GO!". It was like he was a member of a NASCAR pit crew (not that I watch that 'stuff').

As I drove away, I checked the window one more time and Squeegee Boy was leisurely pulling his keys out of his pocket. Just wait til Leopard Muffs' ears freeze and fall off and he won't have anything to hold those muffs up! And who will pump my gas next time if he has no ears and can't wear his leopard muffs? I don't want the holes in his head to get all cold! And I can't pump my own gas for Pete's SAKE. And it's all SQUEEGEE BOY'S fault!

Health Department?

Emma eats nothing. Her food groups consist of Nutragrain bars, chicken nuggets (only certain kinds), grilled cheese and on a really good day...pancakes. Occasionally, she'll eat fishsticks, but only at school where the peer pressure is high.

So yesterday, I picked her up from school and on her daily sheet, it said she'd eaten BOLOGNA and CHEESE. What the hell. She was all excited to show me what she'd made in school that day (a BEAK) because they are studying BIRDS. Probably frozen footless birds, but I digress. Anyway, I said "so you ate bologna and cheese today?". "YEP!!!" I'm doubtful at this point because if I even drive my cart by the bologna in the grocery store she starts to twitch because it's ICKY FOOD.

I thought I'd quiz her about the situation. "So, what color is bologna?" She said "I took it off the bread!". "But what COLOR is it." She paused for a moment and said triumphantly "BLUE!!!!". "Sweetie if the bologna is blue, DON'T EAT IT"! She thought for a minute and said "It was RED!!!". I said "Honey, bologna should be PINK". She thought again for a second and said "I think I ate the bologna....maybe I didn't eat it." I said "If I buy you bologna, will you eat it at home?" Again...the pause for thought...."I'd THINK about it." "What do you want for dinner tonight?" NO pause this time "CHICKEN AND FRIES!!" aka...McDonalds.

So the world's worst mother drove directly to the "House of Ron" and ordered the standard six piece and a medium fry. For Pete's sake...the kid had blue bologna for lunch, I had to get her something GOOD for dinner!

Why can't we be friends?

The merry times continue.

Bird pity party part two

It's still cold here. And you know...I DID go outside the other day and brought in the empty bird feeder so that I could fill it. The lid was actually frozen shut and that made me feel even WORSE for the birds. I could just imagine their sad little beady birdy eyes and their frozen little scaly feet. So after I managed to get the feeder thawed out enough to get the top off, I filled it with some delicious (? it's from Lowe's...do they make delicious bird food? Do birds even have taste buds?) no waste bird seed which I also managed to spill all over the laundry room. Now I should just put up a blinking "COME ON IN!" sign for the field mice (who are ALSO probably freezing by the way) because I'm sure they'll be interested in all that teeny tiny seed I spilled.

So I dragged the feeder back out to the hook outside in the 3 degree weather with the -24 wind chill and then hotfooted it back to the house because of course I only went out in my socks. I'm feeling all "Mother Teresa-sish" now and told Joe that maybe I should roll something in peanut butter and bird seed and hang it out side. He suggested the puppy. (Note to self: Joe not compassionate about bird population or for that matter...Bad Puppy aka: Frosty). I made a brief attempt to find a pine cone somewhere in the house (don't you have them lying around? Turns out I don't) and then gave up and sort of forgot about the whole thing.

Except. I've been watching that feeder since then. NOT ONE DAMN BIRD. So I started thinking. How do they find bird feeders anyway? Has mine been marked with a birdy "DON'T EAT HERE" rating in their bird Triple A guild to bird feeders? Like maybe it reads "BAD LOWE'S SEED, FEW SUNFLOWER SEEDS, NO ENTERTAINMENT, NO PEANUT BUTTER COATED PUPPIES..." and then I get like a half a star rating. How do I regain my status with the birds? I mean I threw some old bread out there a couple of weeks ago! Come on! My mom's place is RIDDEN with birds. I mean lousy with them. But she has cute feeders and lots of seed and SUET for God's sake. I just can't bring myself to hang cubes of fat in my trees!

Which is why I will only EVER have a half star rating in the bird world.

Kramerica Industries, how may we help you?

Today I called to talk to my husband who was off work for Martin Luther King Day (which I point out that health care professionals DO NOT get to celebrate). This is how he answered the phone without so much as a HELLO.

Joe: "I'm sorry, she's in a meeting with a grilled cheese and Doritos and she can't be disturbed."

When he's home he considers himself our four year old's personal assistant. Probably because he spends his entire day personally assisting her. I have to admit, it always cracks me up when he does it. But there's more you should know about our house.

We have this whole corporate weirdness thing that we do at our house. Everyone pretends they have a secretary, including my son's fish...who by the way (the fish, not my son) are planning on world domination. And who wouldn't need a secretary if they had that on their plate?

I like to answer the phone when the boys call and when they say "Mom?", I like to reply "I'm sorry, she's not available right now, would you like to leave a message?". When they say "Okay...Mom...really.", I like to ask "And your name again?" or "I'm sorry, did you have an appointment? And the number where you can be reached?" My 15 year old said to me today "What, do you have a little notebook where you write all this stuff down so that you can torture us with it later?". Now this is the same kid who's fish are going to take over the world. Let's talk about that for a moment...He's got this GINORMOUS (J-EYE-NOR-MOS) tank of fish that live in his room. He's had these fish forever and they've taken on this whole "entity" of their own. He'll walk into the living room where I'm lying on the sofa and say "The fish will see you now." and turn around and walk out. I guess you have to be there. The fish, in their effort to obtain world domination (I'll probably get a call from Homeland Security about this), also like to order things. I left an invoice on my son's door last week for 10 drums of Miracle Whip and 240 balls of kite string that the fish had ordered (not really...play along with me). My son likes to tell me that they've ordered 55 gallon drums of pudding, 80 pairs of ice skates and sometimes some blasting caps among other things on their list. It just cracks the two of us up. We have this whole fish "thing" going that we are ENDLESSLY amused by. I like to call him and ask "Have you seen them?" and he'll not even miss a BEAT and say that they're filming a commercial in Denmark about Tang or something.

And so it goes at our house. We're simple people...easily amused with pretending that we're running our own company and torturing each other by not letting each other talk to who ever is in charge.

Oh...and the fish will see you now.

Business must be good

It's ridiculously cold here. It's outer space cold. The kind of cold that doesn't seem to care if you have a coat on or not. You can wear wool, you can wear Therma-something-or-other. You can wear heated socks and you're STILL going to be cold as soon as you step out side the door. Temp last night. ZERO. That guy in the picture is the grapevine snowman who lives on our patio during the holidays who we haven't dragged into the garage yet along with all the summer planters that are still back there containing their crispy-frozen plants. I keep looking at the empty bird feeder and thinking..."I should go feed those poor birds". But what self respecting bird is going to leave the edge of a chimney long enough to come and wrap his little scaly birdy toes around my bird feeder for food I got at Lowe's? How do birds' feet not just SNAP OFF in this kind of weather now that I think about it? There can't be that much blood flowing their feet. (Now I'm obsessing...). No really, think about it...all kinds of things just crack right off when it's this cold, water pipes freeze, cars won't start, people get freaking FROST BITTEN. Birds? Nope, out there dancing around on their twiggy little feet. Has anybody studied this??? Basically there is nothing to a damn bird. If I wrap myself in a feather boa and stand outside in my bare feet today...I'm going to freeze my ass off! And end up on the news. I think I'll go make their birds some sort of treat...or knit them some socks...what is it three toes? Four toes? (Trying to remember Big Bird...was he even accurate?). Oh screw it...I'll just go fill the feeder after I put on my space suit.

Flying stuff that scares me.

So we're watching the History Channel last night. I equate the History Channel with important historical events like wars, famines, big inventions, tragedies...you know, all the historical stuff. Last night they aired a program about....Flying Rods.

Okay, okay...first let me tell you that I am freaked out of my mind by the possibility of FLYING SAUCERS. I have bad dreams. I mean big-bad-the-flying-saucers-are-out-to-get-me dreams. It seems like the flying saucer guys (now called aliens or something much more techincal) always want to stick something into your belly button and extract something from you...or WORSE inject something into your belly button. YOU KNOW THEY DO THIS! It's in all the creepy flying saucer movies!! Anyway....back to the History Channel...

There was a show about Flying RODS. I had never even HEARD of Flying Rods! Turns out there are these THINGS that are not able to be seen by the naked eye that just ZOOM through the sky and can only be seen on video (raises an eyebrow). But DUDE...check this out.. http://www.flyingrods.com/indexfl.asp! You've got to admit they are sort of creepy!

Okay. Maybe it was the guy's voice that narrated the History Channel show. Or the name of the show "MONSTERQUEST" (last week it was about Sasquatch). But I was a little FREAKED OUT! They started talking about visitors from a FOURTH DIMENSION. CREEEEEEPY.

My point with all this...other than it's damn weird...is that it was on the HISTORY channel...so it must be real, right??? Just like that Sasquatch episode last week.