My boobs were my tools of the trade for almost 20 months.

Once my youngest daughter weaned herself from the Magical Boob Juice, the fun really began!

(And by fun we all know I mean chaos!)

Pull up a chair, sit a while, read a few pages.

Keep and open mind and a joyful heart and you too can get pumped into the world of The Milk Maid.


Catching Up

Now that I have this thing called a job (that I still love, blahblahblah you know) I just am not making the time for blogging. It's much easier to come home and collapse into a pile of brainless slop on the couch. By then end of the day I am not only fulfilled beyond beyond belief, but also unable to make a coherent sentence.

When Faith asks me to do things like proofread her homework all I can do is flop violently on the couch and yell "WORDSWORDSWORDS - MAKE THEM STOP!". Of course that makes no sense to say when she's doing math, but I do suppose I still get my point across.

I told you that to tell you this story...

Faith broke her arm. Ok, sure that wasn't a very good lead in, but remember that part where I was all blahwordsblah?

Anyways, long story short Faith was on the playground playing with some friends who spun her around and around in circles when suddenly the school heffer appears and tackles Faith causing Faith to land on her elbow which causes a fracture near the growth plate at the elbow and some other place (Doc said it wasn't an important detail so I kinda blahblahed on that point) and the other Doc (orthopedist with nice ass and shorty socks (and lots of WORDSWORDS!)) said it's better be safe than sorry so (one very tedious run-on sentence later) Faith has a half cast covering from her elbow to her wrist for the next two weeks.

The above story informs the whole point (blahWORDSWORDSblah) of this post:

I was bathing Faith earlier when I tell her to make sure and wash all of her girl bits... like her hoohoo. She asks me WHY we have to bathe our hoohoos so much and then, before I can even respond about general cleanliness and hygiene and etc., she questions, "Why are hoohoos always getting dirty?"

I told her they were "self-cleaning on the inside, sort of like ovens", and with "so many folds (like hospital-cornered sheets)" they were "bound to get..." (thinking), "umm, what's the word?"

Faith says, "Boogers?! Boogers in your toot?!"

(:::Silence as I try to bounce back seamlessly from my deer-in-the-headlights-stare:::)

"Oh, and mama- on that subject I think you need to dig for gold in my nose later... If you know what I mean!"

--The Milk Maid says she still has no snark to quip at her daughter.


Either The Lexipro Is Working Or I'm Just Really Getting Soft In My Old Age

Every single day I am amazed...

... I am amazed at the love I feel for my daughters. Faith asks me the most interesting questions. She really makes me think about ideas and life in a way I've never done before. From innocent questions on how to deal with kids who are bullies at school to astute questions on anatomy, the human body, and the whys and hows of life. Most of those let me get my A&P book for that kind of questions come after watching shows life Dr. G Medical Examiner or CSI. Both shows she probably shouldn't watch, but nonetheless you must feed the hungry with whatever can quieten their pangs. Faith now wants to be a pathologist. Or work for the Houston SPCA. Maybe both, she can't decide right now.

Ava amazes me with her energy. She surprises me with how fast she learns things. My pal B once said, "You didn't want a stupid kid, did you?". My reply of course was No!". However, I went on to elaborate about how "I didn't want a kid that could outsmart me 99% of the time by the age of two either. I guess it could be worse (insert huge grin here).

... My job amazes me. I'm amazed to have been blessed with a job that I actually crave. I dream of my job- drawing blood, running samples, talking to people. I'm fortunate to know that the smallest smile or simple gesture of kindness can make some one's bad day a little brighter. I have so much compassion for people from all walks of life. I suppose my parents raised me right. I reckon that I've seen enough bad to know that it doesn't take a lot to do good. I can comfort those who might be very ill by being gentle and polite and respectful. I can not bring up the obvious and induce the tears of ladies who might be enduring a possible miscarriage and have betas drawn every couple of days. I can calm a child who is frightened. I can dance with a child who is happy. I can ease the jitters of mothers with very small, very sick children. I can do all this mostly because I have been there or I have friends who have been there. I guess the dancing part is just my nature.

... I am amazed that I have so many friends out there. There you are- I see you! I make friends easily, but find it very difficult to trust the majority with my true being. Character flaw? Maybe. Once bitten, twice shy. More likely. At a moments notice I could flip through my phone and dial ten people who would come to my rescue. Or at least send money via Western Union so I could make bail. I know of one person who'd be sitting right beside me in that holding cell. We'd be giggling until our significant others came to drag us home and scold us. Scold is a nice term I'm using in place of "beat our asses".

... I'm amazed at the level of patience I have gained in the past year. I don't know if it was the regimen of school, the enjoyment I get from my job, or just getting older and wiser, but there has been a great shift. I'm not saying I'm one of the Old Wise Ones by any means, but I do seem to have a few more answers for my questions regarding life as of late. I can't say that I'm a sage or a seer, but the future looks a little less cloudy than it did a year or two or three ago. I don't give much advice, but I am more apt to share an experience with my friends and let them draw from my mistakes and successes as needed.

I hope this post makes a little sense to everyone. The words have been circling my heart for some time and they needed to be freed. By no means am I tooting my own horn; I am merely counting my blessings. I have so many blessings in my life. It's hard to always take the time to smell the roses, but something tells me I need to slow down and enjoy these moments. I need to savor all of my life- the good, the bad, and the ugly.

--The Milk Maid says a lot without saying a word.



Ava turned two in Friday.

I have been looking for the words to blog our journey over the past couple of years, but I can't articulate all of the love and joy and laughter she brings to me. The thoughts and feelings are in my heart, but I can't make them hold still long enough to journey from mind to screen.

So I guess for maybe the second or third time in my life I am completely speechless except for the words...

Happy Birthday my Ava!


You Will Become VERY Sleepy...

This working from 7:30 or 8 until 6 or 6:3o is taking a bit of a toll on me. Don't get me wrong- I still absolutely positively wonderfully wholly love my job (!!!!), but as of late I've been on my feet at the pediatric counter logging specimens, running CBCs, Hgbs, Urines (dip, micro, and culture), A1Cs, Creatinine Ratios, leads, hCGs, monos, and streps (rapid test and culture), and FOBs.

Most of those any one of you can figure out what is what in the above list, but just FYI the FOB means "Fecal Occult Blood". That means POOP. I take a card where someone has slathered their POOP all over the special paper and analyze it to see if they have blood in their stool which might be a possible indication of colon trouble (trouble meaning cancer).

Any one want to guess how week old poop that has been in a mail box for days smells? I can tell you. You don't have to guess. I know you are DYING to know. Yes you are.

--The Milk Maid says if that's the only shit she's getting at her job, then she's doing darn fine!


Tales From The Clinic

My first week at work went exceptionally well. I learned that a PRN schedule (which is Latin for something-er-other meaning "as needed") does not mean part time. I have seen more days start at 7:30am and end at 6pm this week than I care to recall, but I can't complain about any of it.

I'm enjoying my work immensely. Truth be told, I'm certain that I've found my calling. To delve deeper into that truth, my true true calling is on the pediatric side of the lab. As much as I love MY kids, it's some times hard to channel those feelings towards other people's brood, especially in a doctor's office setting where the children are scared of the sharp things I'm about to make them bleed with.

I can do finger sticks with my eyes closed, I have no problem doing venous draws on children ranging in age from 6 months to adulthood, I can point to the bathroom while cheerily saying "pee in this cup", and I'm quite adept at mopping up all the piss from little boys who can't drive their weeners.

On that note can I just say to all the males in the universe:

It's a CUP. It's DEEP. Hold the cup in one hand and drive your penis with the other. Yes, go on... stick it waaaay down inside that cup. I don't care how lacking you are in the size department, you do NOT have to piss all over the toilet, the wall, the sink, and the toilet paper. If I can pee in a gallon milk jug while riding down the road in the cab of a tractor trailer then by golly you can hit that 3 inch opening.

--The Milk Maid says her soap box makes her about 6 feet tall!


There Is No Flea At The Market

We took Ava to the local Flea Market today with the idea of letting her ride one of the ponies on the roundie-round thing. Little did we know that she would scream... Not because of the horses- oh no. When the time came to get off the pony they poor child wailed like a banshee! And then she tried to hop off the other side of the horse so I couldn't get her!

Obviously, her dada thinks she needs a pony now. Well, maybe I think that too. And her birthday is coming up. And there are some free and cheap 4-footed friends on the List of Craig.

Can everyone guess what is written across the top of our foreheads? Yes, that's it... it says:

--The Milk Maid says she might just live to regret this decision!



Jef is off this weekend... a three day weekend at that. I'm glad to have some time with my guy... and goodness knows that is about all that is going right these days.

I will start by sending love and comfort to all my friends who have had losses and let downs. It sucks and there isn't a damn thing I can do for any of you except just be mad at the world with you.

Next, let's talk about people that I thought were my friends. CindyLooHoo, the girl from my phlebotomy class, recently decided to move about 5 hours away to live closer to her boyfriend. She asked me to help her pack up and do a few repairs around her house. She offered to pay me, put gas in the truck I borrowed from my dad, and feed me. We worked from noon until 8pm. She never paid me, she never fed me, she never put gas in my dad's truck. She didn't even say thanks. As far as I am concerned, I'm done with her. I would have gladly helped her moved for free- that wasn't the issue I guess. She made a HUGE deal of paying me something for it, and well- I just think you should be true to your word.

I've been having nightmares as of late. Very vivid, very real nightmares about death, sickness, and just plain awful things. I awake in a sweaty frenzy. I hate that feeling.

--The Milk Maid says the Shit Storm of 2008 continues to destroy all it touches.


The Super Large Clinic Site Is Mine, ALL MINE!

I am officially employed (pending my background check and drug screen)!

I have negotiated a salary, filled out all the needed paper work, peed in a cup, and sworn under oath (metaphorically speaking) that I am not a crook. I even resisted the urge to do my best Richard Nixon impression when I signed the background check form.

I am a phlebotomist! I am a phleb at the place I wanted to be a phleb! I am so cool today that, if I didn't have a rollicking headache from skipping breakfast so I could go put the finishing touches on everything at the Super Large Clinic site, I would do some crazy dance and upload it here for you all to make fun of!

It feels good- lemme tell ya! I went to school, got an edumakatshon, and then I got a JOB. It's so storybook I know, but that's about the only thing in my life that's gone according to plan. The plan took a lot of time (2 months from putting my application in), but who the heck am I to complain. I don't have to be a waitress now. There will be no serving booze to old men who look at my tatas. Well, unless I want to do that.

My intro to venipuncture teacher even called me to congratulate me! Even my mom was proud!

And speaking of my mother, she made a great effort to be nice yesterday... She asked if "my friend" (she can't remember My Pal B's name) was in "any of that big weather that hit" meaning Hurricane Gustav. I'm putting a great big gold star by my mother's name alongside the E for effort.

And on a side note: Has anyone ever heard of the "3 days and $75 method" for potty training? Basically you take 3 days, add in one completely nekkid toddler, mix well in a confined area with a sprinkle of a training potty and let stew. At the end of 3 days you are supposed to have a potty trained kiddo. And the $75 is for?... Carpet cleaning of course! I'm thinking of giving this a whirl. Ava keeps ripping off wet diapers and telling us before she poops, so I'm thinking she's ready. Now the question remains, "Is mama ready?". Mama may need some new home furniture after this.

--The Milk Maid says I'm gonna poke everybody!