Do I?
How ‘bout now?
Suck part of being so pretty, and having a sister who will hold you down, and put pig tails on you…is that YES…you do look like a girl!
*For the record…we are still not cutting his hair…MOTHER! Even if he DOES look like a girl!*
The other day, I noticed a baby bird sitting on our back porch. As I stood at the sliding glass door, the momma bird began squawking, and doing fly-bys to keep me away from her baby. I watched for a while, and I could almost imagine the conversation she was having with her child...
Mom: You can do it. Just flap your wings like this...
Baby: *in a whiny voice* But, I caaaaaan't...
Mom: Can't never could...now just try!
Baby: *still whining* I caaaaaaan't. It's hard. I don't waaaaaaanna.
Mom: If you don't start flapping those wings...THIS INSTANT...I will...I will...well, you just wait until your father gets back.
I'd imagine that conversations between a mother and her disobedient child, in the animal kingdom, are not that different among species!
I noticed three other baby birds perched on our ceiling fan, high above these goings on...and a nervous daddy bird also close by. They didn't have a nest near our home. I would know if they had...for under a bird's nest, is a nice splattering of bird shit!
Lily and I watched for a long time, and wondered where their nest was, and how their flying lessons had landed them in our backyard. Poor Tucker was scared to take a shit himself, because his moving bowels were a perceived threat, by the bird parents, and they dive bombed him the entire time he was conducting business!
Soon, the boys came in for lunch, after playing with the boys down the street. I urged them over to the window, to watch our television-less version of live Animal Planet. We even joked around with our own narration, in our best Australian accents.
We learned a little about our porch-guests, when Jack ratted his brother out...
"Mom...there was a bird's nest at Tyler's house...and Avery got a broom...and he knocked the bird's nest down...and...like...a bunch of birds flew out of it."
Avery piped up, and tattled, too, "Yeah...well, Jack threw a rock at it."
As they continued with the "nuh-uhs," and the "did toos," I put two and two together.
Our boys knocked down a bird's nest, three doors down. The birds flew away, three doors up...onto OUR back porch.
Thanks to my little asshole angel, this, now homeless, family of birds, had perched themselves atop our ceiling fan, which happens to be above our inflatable hot tub. Which meant that their shit was falling all over our porch, and the cover to our hot tub!
I realized that I could simply turn our ceiling fan on, to deter the birds from calling our porch their new home, but, I felt a little guilty. After all, it was my kid who destroyed their home...the least I can do, is put them up for a while.
Mi porch es su porch, my feathered friends!! At least, now it is, because karma is a bitch!!
We got midieval on Lily’s ass, and had a torture device installed…
We turn a crank, twice a day…her palate expands, making room for her teeth. Sounds painful, and torturous, and like a notsofun way to spend a summer, huh?!?
Some may consider this blasphemy, but, naming one of the Mii’s on our Wii, “Jesus,” has sure made for some good laughs…
The following is overheard often around our home…
“Dude…Jesus just hit a home run!”
“Dangit!!! Jesus just knocked me off the bridge, and now I’m in last place!”
“Oh yeah…look who it is! Jesus is my clean up hitter! He’s awesome!”
“Dude…JESUS!!! Get outta my way! I’m coming through!”
And the funniest, to date…
“Maaaaaan! Jesus and Michael Jackson just beat me in three on three basketball!”
I want to be as much in love, as this couple is, after many, many years of marriage…
Jack had a baby tooth, that had seen better days. It was old. It was tired. It had bitten into a few too many apples, and cheeseburgers…
As a family, we decided we should pull the tooth.
Lily manned the video camera, I manned the still camera, and Jake did the dirty work. Avery pouted because he wasn’t the center of attention…
I don’t know where my husband learned to pull teeth…or what kind of tortuous childhood he had, but, he kept just jamming the tooth forward and back, trying to loosen it right out of the boy’s head.
*Did you hear Jake say, “It didn’t hurt…you’re not even bleeding.” It’s a principle we live by in our home. If there is no blood…it is physically IMPOSSIBLE for there to be pain…SO QUIT YOUR BITCHING!*
Jack began to squeal, and I offered to put him out of his misery, and yank the damn thing out myself…
*Even the dog was in on the action…it was truly, a family affair!*
And in a matter of minutes…perhaps even seconds…the boy had one less tooth in his head, and his father was schooled in more humane ways to extract a lower incisor!!
It's the beginning of the summer, and that means one thing...that the end of the summer is coming, and I'll be back in school soon.
My confidence is crumbling just a bit...which I'm sure is normal, and typical, and when I think about it, this is exactly what I felt when I started classes last summer.
So, I should be good, right?
But, what if...
What if I DON'T have what it takes to be a nurse.
What if I hate it.
What if I fail in "bedside manner" so horribly, that they never let me near patients again.
What if I get queasy during procedures, or cleaning out wounds.
What if I stick my foot in my mouth, and am cold and calloused when I should be warm and compassionate to a person dealing with the death of a loved one? Strike that...not what if I do that...what do I do WHEN I do those things?
What if I can't keep my shit together? Like, my literal shit. Wait, not my LITERAL, literal shit, like my feces...but, my shit. My schedule, my tests, my patients, their meds? Sometimes, I forget to brush my teeth in the morning (hence the root canal, I suppose)...how the hell can I hack this?
We start seeing patients 10 days into the Nursing Program. TEN DAYS...
What if I'm not ready?
What if, after all of this talk...I'm not ready?
I'm pretty good at putting my best foot forward, bullshitting when I don't have an answer, and giving one confidently when I do...but, will that cut it this time?
I can feel my feet getting cold, and it pisses me off more than anything!
What if I don't want a job?
There it is...there's the reason. All this bitching and moaning about, "what if I'm not good enough..." yada, yada, yada...it comes down to, What if I'm too lazy for a career?
I've gotten spoiled this year that I've taken off.
I sleep until 10 some days, 9 on most days, and only set an alarm on two, out of seven, days of the week. I don't wear a bra on some days, stay in my pajamas on most days...and very often, don't leave the house. NOT EVEN TO CHECK THE FUCKING MAIL!!!
It's crazy this life I'm leading. Why would I trade it for a career? Why would I give this up? I know, I know...there is that bit about being a nurse being a dream of mine, and all...and I'd hate to waste those freaking science classes, but, really? I got it pretty good over here.
This old SAHM gig got pretty cush when the kids were in school all the damn day!!
Alas, it is the summer. And the summer means one thing. THOSE FREAKING KIDS ARE GONNA BE HOME ALL DAY, AND THEY'RE GONNA HARSH MY MELLOW, MAN!!
I'd wager a bet, that by the end of this summer, I'll beating down the doors of the school, just for a break from the kids!!!
