Milk-Induced Coma

So I still have this thing called a blog!

2010-06-05T16:22:00.004-04:00

And I'm really awful at updating it these days! Wow- guess the least I can do is a quick photo update of the girls....

Ava... almost 4!

Faith... closer to 13 than I want her to be!

--The Milk Maid says, "Where'd the time go?"

And then there were four..

2010-03-09T15:51:00.003-05:00

Four knee surgeries that is!

My fourth and (possibly, maybe) final procedure is complete on the ol' knee.

I had what is called a manipulation under anesthesia on my knee to break up scar tissue that had formed and frozen my knee joint. The procedure required anesthesia because of the level of pain involved during the breaking up of the scar tissue. Dr. Hottie McGropesalot also had my anesthesiologist pal give me a femoral nerve block to help deaden the pain that was sure to follow. I was one of the supremely lucky people out there who had a block that lasted for almost 48 hours!

Oh sure, I couldn't walk without crutches for that time, but I felt nooooo pain at all and kept my knee moving in my therapy chair thus keeping scar tissue from reforming.

I'm at 75% range of motion in my knee and I'm trading in my flexion chair for an extension brace that I have to wear a couple times a day just to keep my knee where it will straighten all the way out.

So... maybe this will be the last post about knees and surgery and therapies to bend and straighten and manipulate my lower extremity and perhaps we can get into more exciting stuff like how Ava has grown, yet still refuses to potty train and Faith being a tween and such silliness in her life like her friend who is a boy, yet is not her boyfriend whose nickname is Corn (he calls her Taco, so it must be a good match).

And, maybe- just maybe- we will pickup a new character along the way in the form of a baby. Not in the immediate future, but that dream is by no means lost.

--The Milk Maid says stay tuned!

I'd Tell You To Go To Hell, But I Work There And I Don't Want To See You Everyday

2010-02-08T18:59:00.004-05:00

So, needless to say if you've drawn any conclusion from the title of this post, I am back to work. Dr. Hottie McGropesalot did not want to give me clearance, but since my short-term disability would not pay (long story I am sure I'll gripe about later) I had no choice but to hoof it back to The Lab.

Since last we spoke (or since last I typed and you read, technically) I got rid of my PICC line and IV pump- THANK YOU SWEET BABY J!- and I'm pretty much recovered from the infection which was classified as MSSA Staph (fun to google if you are bored!).

The only hitch (ha, you will laugh at the pun in a minute... wait for it) is that my leg wont bend at the knee any more than say 10 degrees. So I limp.

Really, really limp.

Think this guy minus the cane and vicoden habit, but pretty much the same highly sociable patient/health care provider rapport (I'm usually kidding about that last part).

--The Milk Maid says meet the new boss (same as the old boss).

I'm Back

2010-01-21T17:21:00.004-05:00

I can't stand it. I can't stay away.

The Milk Maid is back.

And, as you may have noticed I changed my hair a little. I was trying to color it back to my natural dark chestnut brown shade. But it turned black. After a week of being in total shock and screaming at the stranger in the mirror every time I paced by, I grew to like my new shade of locks. I feel kind of powerful and bitchy. I stood up for myself a little bit more. I shot a bird at a coworker who called me Elvira.

I had knee surgery on December 15th for a simple arthroscopic plica resection and a lateral release. My "simple" procedure got infected so I was taken in for an emergency arthroscopic irrigation and drainage on December 29th. I had a picc line placed at the hospital during my 2 day stay and received IV vancomycin until January 13th when my surgeon announced my synovial white count (a measure of infection) was over 100,000. Normal is 200 or less. Yeah... it was bad. So, on the 13th I had yet another surgery to clean out the mess that was festering. Dr. Hottie McGropesalot decided that a 4 inch ~~gash~~ incision on the inner side of my right knee was the way to go.

Tomorrow, after 9 days of a continuous Nafcillan IV pump, I will see what my future holds when I see Dr. Hottie for my post op. (I guess technically my post-post-post op. Or post op-op-op. I dunno- anyways...)

So, now that we are pretty much caught up with me how have all of YOU been?

And RainbowMama, I hope I can make you laugh a heck of a lot starting now!

--The Milk Maid says she may be a bitch, but at least she's the pick of the litter.

2009-11-24T20:12:00.004-05:00

Not sure if I'll be back after this.

Lots going on. Not much I feel like sharing.

I don't have the voice or the power I once had. It doesn't mean as much. Then again, not much does.

The people I used to write with and for don't seem to be on the same plane as I am right now and instead of lagging behind, dragging my feet, and drawing out the painful conclusion I might as well go ahead and wean you all from this Milk-Induced breast.

--The Milk Maid has a sad.

Still Here... Really

2009-11-05T18:34:00.003-05:00

I'm still here.

Work is chaos. Life is stressful, but getting better. I'm feeling down and out, but this too shall pass.

Contemplating the future of Milk-Induced Coma. Love my blog- my other baby in a way- but here I am the Milk Maid, sans milk for the first time in over 3 years and no immediate plans of revamping the breast milk brigade. Desire, yes. Practical, no.

On a positive note I have starting writing a book. Ten whole chapters so far! It's kind of in the style of how MIC (milk-induced coma) used to be- funny, witty, sarcastic, fast paced, and utterly silly. Hopefully I can keep the motivation to finish the book and then work on getting published.

All around me there are new blogs to represent new beginnings and different directions and change. I'm feeling a little left out of the swirl, but I just don't have the drive any more. In so many ways I have given up on myself. The past year, two years, more- it's been a struggle to cope and survive. Today I am just trying to make it through until tomorrow and then the next day and then perhaps the next.

I'm not alone, but I'm lonely. I miss things I still have because of the fear they will leave me like every other thing in this world seems to have done.

I miss each and every single one of you in blog-land. I've been terrible at keeping up with the friends I have made over the past 3 years and it's no one's fault but my own. I apologise because you all mean more to me than you can ever know. Again, I'm a failure.

More Blab From The Lab

2009-09-03T19:13:00.003-04:00

Two very exciting things happened to me today. The first exciting (and admittedly scary) thing that happened was a small centrifuge's rotor exploded into a million little bits. The sound was like a gunshot a full two rooms away. Roxy was sitting next to the centrifuge as it exploded and was splattered with shrapnel. She was totally fine except a small ringing in her ears and staying very skittish for the remainder of the day.

The second exciting thing that happened was the interaction I had with a patient. Great Austrian Accent Man, a repeat customer, came in for some basic blood work today. As I was prepping to draw him he made a comment on how his skin was looking old and crepe-like. I told him it wasn't bad at all and I bet he'd keep kicking for another 20 years (he was 82 by the way, but doesn't look to be in his 80's or even close to 70). After drawing him and joking about being in a wonderful mood because I'd had sugar cookies for breakfast he took my hand to shake and then pulled me in for a hug. Normally I don't make any more contact that necessary with patients, but I felt very close to Great Austrian Accent Man at that moment and hugged him just as hard as I could. He thanked me for being so kind and gentle and said that it meant so much to him. I told him my name and said he could ask for me any time he was in the lab and I would be sure to take care of him.

Sometimes it is the small things that remind you why you get up and go to work every single day. It made me think of a quote from Ralph Waldo Emerson that says, "To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded."

Today I succeeded!

--The Milk Maid says life is good.

Oink Like A Pig

2009-08-26T18:23:00.002-04:00

We have already started "sick season" at work. There was a total of 14 confirmed cases of flu A (possibly the H1N1 swine flu strain) today in our 3 locations. Of course I swabbed most of these disease -ridden little twirps. We've also had numerous cases of strep throat and a couple of office mates have been out with the "throops"- that's Faith's term for throwing up and pooping at the same time.

Luckily, knock on wood, I have avoided the most recent emergence of the plague although it seems every child with strep has either barfed in my floor or hocked a loogie in my hair (or face). Everyone cross your fingers and pray I stay well so I can go mop up vomit and blood 5 days a week.

Jef started a new job today as parts manager of the local mitsu*bishi dealership today. He's been in and out of work since the beginning of the year so here's to hoping this job is all it's cracked up to be and we can dig out of the financial pit we are living in.

Faith is in middle school - my big 6th grader now. She's been making good grades so far and seems to enjoy all her classes. She came home sick today, but her doting mother confirmed that it isn't flu or strep so I gave her some sinus meds and sent her to bed to rest and recover.

I have officially lost 34 lbs since the beginning of the year. I'm having to buy new clothes because I look like a whole family has moved out of the butt of my pants... if I can can get my pants to stay on in the first place.

--The Milk Maid says paddle faster I hear banjos.

As I Lay Me Down To Sleep

2009-07-06T18:58:00.002-04:00

Last night as I tossed and turned restlessly trying to bargain with sleep to come to my body I started to ponder the spacing in age of children. The children whose spacing was in question was of course my children, present and future (oh yeah I'm still all about having a 3rd kid - someday before the next eon).

I realized as I lay awake that I have single-handedly managed to create a perfect storm of child spacing. My brain turned to oatmeal as the reality settled in of having a pre-teen (in all her that guy from Twilight is hot and I'm growing sizable boobs glory) and a child in the throws of her Terrible Two's and soon to turn Even Worse Three's (no I didn't make the part about the three's being worse than the two's up at all!).

While I am tossing all my irons in the fire let's go ahead and remind everyone of the fact that I also have a 23 year old step daughter who I swear does the Devil's Bidding from the far away land of Argentina.

I do declare I have managed to create the Trifecta From Hell when it comes to the spacing of my children.

Of course I wouldn't trade any of the precious girls (except the step-daughter) for anything (and if you are interested in a whiny, lazy twenty-three year old we can negotiate terms on the spot), but there was definitely a lack in creative thinking when the whole deal of birth order came to be.

So with the question of when to birth the next spawn still up in the air, as it has been for 2 years, I wonder just what spacing would be "best" for not adding to the already stormy land of the Casa de Leche.

Oh what the heck, I can wait until Ava is 9 and repeat the pattern I know so well... I will have had lots of practice!

I Always Thought This One Would Have Been Funnier

2009-07-01T17:02:00.003-04:00

My 500th post is brought to you by the letter G (for Guilt over not blogging in the past 2 months) and the letter U (for a slight Urging to Update).

What can I say about my absence over the last almost 60 days? Not much in fact- that is mainly the problem. Nothing has been happening at the Casa de Leche you haven't heard before like the fact that I have been working my ass off, I've been sick like 4 times (thanks pediatrics for the upper respiratory infection turned bronchitis and all the other junk I've had), Jef didn't work for months and now has a pretty darn good job selling life insurance, Faith is going to cheer camp next week, and Ava's new word for sandwich sounds an awful lot like "dammit". Oh and I've managed to lose 25 pounds since April-ish.

Now that you are up to speed I can shove the keyboard to the side once again, right? No, I didn't think so either (the Milk Maid smiles a devilish smile somewhere around here).

--The Milk Maid says there will more- promise!

I Ain't No Beetle, But I Wanna Hold Your Hand

2009-05-05T19:49:00.004-04:00

I'm feeling a little vulnerable. I might even be clingy. I'm definitely without inspiration to write on my blog.

The meds I'm taking are making me feel very normal. Too normal. So normal that I'm just all blahblahwhocares.

The voices that would inspire me to write are gone for the most part. No more verbal jousting with Jim Morrison. I would do a link to the post were I explained my conversations with Jim, but damn that's a lot of effort.

The absence of creativity has been colored in with a couple new emotions that are most likely in the hue of red: Anger and Agitation.

Mimi Therapist-Pants has upped my dose and cut my dose trying to regulate me somewhere between whacked out and comatose to the point that I am really thinking of finding a new therapist who will just leave me the hell alone pretty much and let me be me minus the huge mood swings that caused me to lock myself in the bathroom and cry for hours for no particular reason (which is all I wanted fixed in the first place!).

So, here I sit contemplating the future of Milk-Induced Coma and The Milk Maid. I don't have a lot to write about even if I was in the state of mind to string words into semi-coherent sentences. I'm hating my header and bi-lines.

The Milk Maid fears she may have clabbored.

And Then She Asked Me How It Made Me Feel

2009-04-07T20:47:00.003-04:00

Yep, the psychiatrist asked me the question I dreaded the most. And I humored her by answering, but only after telling her I did not like that question and informing her I would comply just once by answering her.

I started doubting the ability of Mimi Therapist-Pants and her 10+ years of doctoral degree education when she said, "I think you might be OCD". Come on people, anyone out there who has read more than 2 pages of my blog could tell you that.

I was also not surprised (because I am the Queen of Dr. Google) that she diagnosed me as Bi-Polar. Again, even if you are a casual reader of this blog, you have probably noticed the highest-highs followed by the lowest of lows and then a bounce back. Rarely (if ever) is there just a nice and normal (normal-schmormal) day where everything flows along without the ebb and flow of 20-foot waves of life crashing me.

Just as I was thinking I could have self-diagnosed myself and ordered meds from Canada or something, little Ms. Mimi Therapist-Pants floored me by asking, "In the 12 or 13 years you have been on anti-depressants have you ever felt relief from these symptoms?"

I blinked. I cocked my head to one side and then another. I really thought about the question at hand. Has anything I tried over the past decade plus truly relieved my symptoms?

No.

Taking everything in to my head, processing it and rolling around my new found diagnoses like a piece of hard candy you want to savor the flavor of as long as possible, I came to the conclusion that I don't think I have ever been truly just "depressed". After reading this handy little wiki-article it all made so much sense. It's the reason why I could be happy as a clam one second and lock myself in the bathroom for 2 hours and cry the very next breath- for no reason at all. It's the reason I'm singing and dancing one minute and can't bear to speak the next. It's the reason I start writing a story with true passion and then can't even imagine having to open the saved file a day later.

Perhaps I have turned a page. Perhaps I have started a whole new chapter. I might just be writing a whole new book on how my life got turned around.

However this all pans out, you know there will be adventure and chaos attached.

--The Milk Maid says her therapist didn't even have a couch!

Apparantly, I'm Really Wacky

2009-04-01T20:12:00.002-04:00

Lady Doc (who goes by a nickname that makes me want to rub my legs together and make chirping noises in the summertime) managed to decide, after a very brief chat, that I am "way beyond her level of expertise" and referred me to a psychologist. She did agree with me, before turfing me to the shrink, that my meds were not working (yay for you on that 10+ years of med school, your parents must be soooo proud) and decided to go "old school" (yeah, she said that) and tank me up on some Pro*zac until the shrink could get a hold of me.

And by Pro*zac I mean something like 50mg of Pro*zac once a day (with permission to take it 2 times a day if I was "really in need".)

So, in my mind I heard the following from Lady Doc:

"You are completely kooky and I cannot help you and/or I am afraid you will sneak up the stairwell* and poke my eyes out with a 21 gauge strait needle as I am doing a pelvic exam on some one's grandma."

(*My ob/gyn is located directly above the lab, hence the reason why I point towards the sky whenever I say coochie doc, be it at work or home. And admittedly, when I am at home it is a little weird to say GYNO(!) and point to the ceiling fans.)

On a funny note, the shrink I've been referred to is named Mimi. I cannot pronounce her last name, so I refer to her as Mimi Smartypants. Oooh yeah!

Please stay tuned for the next episode of "OMG! They think I'm as nuts as I think I am (finally)!"

I am waiting for the moment the shrink asks me, "Well how does that make you feel?" and I punch her in the face and reply, "Yup- about like THAT!"

--The Milk Maid says she would never sneak up a stairwell (she would scale the side of the building!)

Filling In The Blanks

2009-03-30T19:35:00.003-04:00

Since we last met at The Casa De Leche...

I have decided that I hate my job. No, rather just the people at my job and they way they use me willy-nilly like their own personal bitch. I will explain one day when I have more energy to give a damn.

The "new" medicine my loverly lady-doc has put me on for depression that was supposed to also help with other various symptoms (which again the details bore me and I'm sure they would have you yawning with delight) is basically the same medicine as the Lexi I was on. Sure, it's a different size and shape and cost. And doc-lady said it would be BETTER for me and my needs... Which I think means she will get free lunches from the drug reps.

So (cue My Pal B's frenzied phone call here where she yells at me- lovingly- telling me I'm all nucking futz for doing the following, especially without her consult) I decided to stop taking my new meds. I'm weaning gradually, so keep your panties unbunched. I have decided that if I'm feeling completely nutzo and ready to bludgeon co-workers to death with packs of gauze as I squirt rubbing alcohol into their eyes then I may as well save the money I'm spending on the wacko-meds for a nice attorney and bail money.

Before you all stage an intervention and show up on my doorstep I am going to have a little chat with lady-doc asap. I will have lots of spare time since they've cut my hours. Yet again.

***siiigh***

--The Milk Maid says pass the gauze.

Thankful....

2009-03-07T17:32:00.008-05:00

Beauty is everywhere....

(from the garden, circa Spring 2008)

Faith is turning into a young lady!

(school photos early 2009)

Aradia and Big J

(St. Augustine, 2008)

A Good Sleep

(Ava and Bear, about 10 minutes ago)

The Milk Maid says Thank You!!!

Friday Mish-Mash Of Stuffs

2009-03-06T21:09:00.002-05:00

I've lost 11 lbs...

We're doing a weight loss challenge at work where we've joined teams and are competing for a pot o' cash come April 24th. My team is in 2nd place!

The weight loss comes a lot easier when the people you are around all day are going for the same goal as you are.

Speaking of work, I've become The Baby Sticker. No, I don't have an adhesive backing and cling to small toddlers with a cartoon face. I am the go to girl for venous draws on babies. I'm proud to have this title, although it comes with a lot of expectation. So far my youngest baby I've drawn is a 4 day old. I usually make a victory lap upon completion of the draw which is peppered with lots of WHOOO-WHOOOOs and butt shaking.

I'm working tomorrow and Sunday. I'm a glutton for punishment I do suppose, but you can't look a gift horse in the mouth, nor can I ignore the ching-ching sound of overtime.

Jef has a new job in sales that he loves. It's commission based, but if he makes one sale a week (out of a potential 15 or more) he will make more than he made at his last job. Every one say a little prayer that things will continue to look up for Big J and the fam-damily in this adventure!

Welp me chicas- that's about all she wrote for the Mish-Mash!

--The Milk Maid says she got the call and rallied hard!

Tagged!

2009-02-17T18:07:00.003-05:00

I was tagged by onemorebaby!

The rules for this award:

1) Choose a minimum of 7 blogs that you find brilliant in content or design.

And here they are:

Baby Bound

Baby Steps For Maatman

Baby Franklin Journey

Baby Steps

Doran's World

Dory

From Here To Maternity

(They are the 1st 7 from my blog roll, in case you were curious! Everyone is welcome to join in the fun!)

2) Show the 7 winners names and links on your blog, and leave a comment informing them that they were prized with “Honest Scrap.”

Here's the Honest Scrap Prize- come, click to save, and link if you so desire!

3) List at least 10 honest things about yourself.

I love hot wings.... I want them spicy, but not so spicy that I can't taste the good buttery, wingy, hot sauced flavor!
I was sent to speech therapy for 6 months when I was in 1st grade because I had trouble saying my S's and T's. I also had only 2 of my 8 front teeth at the time (the two bottom middle teeth only) so that MIGHT have had something to do with it. I've been paranoid ever since then about how I sound when I speak.
I am a picker- I pick scabs and zits and wild hairs at will. On everyone. Just ask Jef. I am a monster...
I had always said from middle school age into early adulthood that I wanted 4 or 5 kids (maybe more). I think 3 will be enough... although I thought 2 would be plenty after Ava was born. Heeeheehee!
I love to play sports but not watch them
I am an early riser who can sleep late, but has been conditioned otherwise.
I could totally eat some tuna and salmon shashimi right now.
I have a photo of my best Pal B on my computer table. It's from about a year ago at a place (or gathering) called MAMU. It's one of my fave pics of us!
I have kept dried flowers from arrangements I've received over the years for approximately 15 years now.
I repierced my belly button the other night. By myself. With my own personal stash of piercing needles that I got on the famous online auction site. No, it didn't hurt. It was only the 7th ot 8th time I've repierced it.

The Milk Maid says the devil is in the details

Friday Mish-Mash, The Return

2009-02-13T18:56:00.003-05:00

It's been too damn long since I Mish-Mashed people!

My Pal B called me as I was doing the Flight Of The Bumble Bee Clean Up Dance around my house. Needless to say, if I don't have the time for blogging I sure as hell don't have the time to clean house. Anyways, Faith's friend Baileigh* came to spend the night. Seeing as how my children tend to keep their own agenda like the tiny rock stars they ~~think they~~ are, when the idea of Faith going to Baileigh's house to spend the night came up (you know, while I was slammed at work, my dad was watching the girls at the local inflatable bouncy play place, and in general there was a screw loose somewhere in the cosmos) it sounded like a fine idea to me.

*Baileigh is a better name than Courtennay, but still get's minus 2 points for too many letters and minus 5 points for looking just plain weird. Sorry if this is your kid's name- remember my mind is simple and so are my kids names. I know what MY name is- shut it. At least my name isn't "Siren H00ker"- long story, true story, maybe next blog I'll elaborate.

Lo and behold (isn't that always a phrase used to precursor something completely shitty happening?) there was a hitch. Baileigh's mom was going to come to My House to pick up the girls.

My House people. The house that hasn't been cleaned properly (well except for the Seasoned Salt incident) in... well, longer than I'm willing to admit. I plead the Fifth (and I considered drinking one too).

So, as I was ~~throwing clothes and junk in closets~~ cleaning the phone rings and it's B. Chaos echoed through the background as Faith, Baileigh, and Ava (and later on Zeus and Chip) all collaborated to ensure the decibel level in The Casa De Leche was hovering somewhere around the range the Concord would have made (or to be more realistic, at least as loud as Jef used to snore). In this conversation B suggested a glass of wine.

My only question was how to get the children to drink it and not complain about the taste.

--The Milk Maid says a bird in the hand will only dook on you.

A Thought On Marriage

2009-02-10T17:51:00.003-05:00

I sent a text to Big J and told him I had, oh how did I phrase it exactly...

"I have a mother fucking headache from hell!"

This statement, in all it's crude and brazen glory, was followed by the traditional moaning and whining of a tired woman who'd spent her day off getting very little day off.

His response was, "Take an aspirin".

I wanted to tell him something to the effect of Ooooh thank you Helpy Helperton, [insert deep Southern drawl here] I would have never figured that one out all by my little ol' self!

In actuality I said "thanks babe" and knew that deep on his heart he really just wanted me, his crazy menstrual-cycle laden wife who currently has the stress level of a hamster on fire, to feel better.

--The Milk Maid says this is what makes her such a fantastic spouse.

Things The Little People Have Taught Me

2009-02-09T20:43:00.002-05:00

If you were to ask me, The Milk Maid, the easiest way to remove a WHOLE BOTTLE of Seasoned Salt from your tile kitchen floors, do you know how I would respond?

I would tell to forget sweeping or vacuuming or mopping. Yeah- completely forget all that hard stuff.

The best way to remove a WHOLE BOTTLE of Seasoned Salt from your tile kitchen floor is to walk all over the floor, then bathe your feet.

This Casa De Leche Tip was brought to you by Ava the Toddler, McCormick, and a very hot footed Milk Maid.

--The Milk Maid says if she and the Milk Man were into toe sucking, now would SO be the time.

Project: Project

2009-01-26T14:11:00.002-05:00

I think we all know ~~from the crazy babble that this Milk Maid spills out on a regular basis~~ that when it comes to me the saying that goes "Idle hands do the Devil's work" is 100% factual in my life.

Before I had a blog I had a chat room to occupy my time.

Before I had school to occupy my days I had a big case of The Crazy.

After the schooling was over I went to clinicals which kept me very well occupied.

Now with the J-O-B thing being like second nature to me I find myself having more time to think. And not "think" in the sense of the good sort of thoughts. My mind zooms around creating demons to fight and dragons to slay and other imaginary beings to conquer.

So, instead of becoming that ever-so-large Mountain Of Insanity that spews molten crazy all over the place I am entrusting you, my dearest readers, in helping me find something to occupy myself.

I am leaning towards writing ~~finishing~~ a book. Of course this book would be styled like my blog- minus the parts where I go in over my head right towards the deep end of loo-loo-ville. Some of you will remember how I used to write funny and witty stuff all the time. Once upon a time. Somewhere before school and kidneys and everything else got in the way.

If I were to write ~~finish~~ a book, what would you look for within the pages?

--The Milk Maid says she gets all clammy just thinking of having to finish a project like this.

2009-01-22T20:34:00.001-05:00

Thanks to all of you who have read and posted a comment or just sent some silent love and healing my way...

I'm feeling better, but not quite ready to crawl completely out of my nice, snug hole just yet.

I appreciate all of you~

The Milk Maid

The Door Marked Exit

2009-01-18T20:30:00.004-05:00

I have it all.

Two beautiful children. A damn-near perfect husband. A cat, a dog, 2 llamas, a horse. Oh yeah, the big house, the nice cars. The flippin American Dream, people.

So why am I feeling like I am tonight?

Let's start here: For those of you who think I have no reason what-so-ever to even utter a single discouraging word considering my many blessings, well- go fuck yourselves. I've worked my ass off for or paid my dues in some way or another for what I have. Maybe I've not suffered in the same way you have, but there have been hardships and tears. If you can be a big enough person to let that all go for a few minutes, and if you can really lend an ear, be a friend, or at least send one single healing and hopeful thought my way, then by all means keep reading.

Here are some helpful tips for reading this post:

All words in parenthesis are what my brain is shouting.
Those words are preceded by what my logical mind is telling me to put on paper.
None of this will probably make much sense, but it's either coming out here or somewhere it can do some damage. Face it, words are just words- they don't just fly off the paper and key cars in a parking lot or beat mall-punks with whiffle ball bats half full of sand.

Ok- now for the good stuff (crazy shit):

I have battled (argued with) depression (The Crazy) since I was in my early teens. It took me until I was 20-ish and going through a divorce/managing an affair/finding out my best friend at the time was also having an affair with the guy I was screwing for me to realize that I had a case of The Crazy. I started having panic attacks and hallucinations and heart palpitations before I decided to go see my trusted Ob/Gyn Dr. Karin (decided to = dragged there by a co-worker... literally!).

Anyways, a couple months of the big Z(oloft) under my belt and I had a toilet epiphany to change my life and actually live LIFE for once.

Years later, after weaning myself off the Z, I started having Very Bad Thoughts. By this time Big J and I were married and trying to procreate. Yadda, blah and such I was introduced to my dear friend Lexi (Lexa.pro).

We will skip forward to now- seeing as how most of you know the past few years by heart as this point (bless you all for still loving me). I've been taking Lexi for about 7 months... 8 months... 5 months? Hell if I know, because ey- it's been that nice of a ride. I've felt normal (as normal as possible). I've felt in control of myself, my life, and all those nasty little thoughts I'd normally be having if it weren't for Lexi (the thoughts of boogaboogabooga ya know).

That was until about 5 days ago.

I'm not PMS-ing. I'm not mid-cycle. There hasn't really been any huge schedule change or ANY FREAKIN THING to make me have The Crazy (boogaboogabooga). My trusted Ob/Gyn Dr. K suggested that I up my dose of the Lexi about 5 days before my period is due just to curb any small feelings of dread or grouchiness I have always had. For 2 months I've had no problem with this at all.

But now... The Crazy is here. And the walls are closing in on me and I'm crying for no reason and I'm distancing myself from those I love. I'm snappy with the kids. I'm forcing myself to walk away instead of making a scene or yelling or showing my ass in front of the kiddos (or Jef or my boss or my parents... ok not really so much with the parents).

I don't want to feel like this. I want OUT of this brain that is controlling my body because it is not ME in control.

I've had the suggestion of changing up brands of meds to see if that would help. I've had someone mention meds that would complement my current treatment. I have thought about therapy (but quite frankly all I would do is hand Dr. Shrink a manuscript of my blog and say here-ya-gooo!).

I'm at a loss. I can't continue like I am feeling. I can't risk feeling "better" a week from now and then crashing back to this place.

--The Milk Maid says she just wants to be herself.

Just When You Think She Hates You She Goes And Holds Your Hair While You Puke

2009-01-12T20:26:00.005-05:00

Friday night, after closing the satellite location I will call Doodoo-ville, I went to meet my co-workers Margarita, RoxC, and Tiny-Whiny. We met at a little hole in the wall that features a live band, cheep drinks, and a cozy atmosphere.

Being a little late to the party (again I was driving from Doodoo-ville and they were mere minutes away from the locale) I was bound and determined to catch up to their festive mood by imbibing a few quick vodka-crans.

Normally, being the social, and well occasionally not-so-social-drinker, that I am I have no problem holding my alcohol.

Only I'd gone a little light on breakfast that day. And I ate an early and small lunch. And well, sometimes I forget how fast The Vodka can catch up with me especially when I'm slamming back the smooth refreshing taste of cranberry with every drop.

Somewhere between dirty dancing with RoxC and Random Bar Lady Who Helped Herself To A Cheese stick I Was Eating and my buddy Margarita leaving and some more dancing and a whirl and a whoosh of activity my brain and eyes were too slow to follow I remember uttering the words, "I gotta barf!".

Tiny-Whiny held my hand and led me to the bathroom. I locked myself in the stall and starting riding the vomit comet. As I was enjoying my hard-earned hurl RoxC starting banging on the stall door. By banging I mean trying to kick the door off its hinges. I unlock the door, see a boot inches from my face, and return to my business. Tiny-Whiny grabs my hair and starts trying to hold it back or tie it up or something (hell I can't exactly remember what she was doing, I was drunk you know). Then, these words flowed from her mouth: It's ok, this is how we did it in prison!

Note to self and anyone else trying to lend a hand to me as I am on my hands and knees with my ass in the air puking my guts out: Never ever compare that moment to prison.

About that same time a small white object is flung at me. The small white object (that appeared to be a pill of some sort) rolled under the sanitary waste disposal can. Tiny-Whiny grabbed the small object as RoxC was yelling "give it to her". Tiny-Whiny shoved the tiny pill, the tiny pill that had been on the public bathroom floor under the bin where products used to quell menstrual flow are thrown away, into my mouth.

Well oh well Alice In Wonderland- if the one you eat makes you taller and the one you drink makes you smaller, then what does the white one do? It makes you stop hurling (phenergan) and call you husband and ask for a ride home.

The moral of the story?

People who are assholes in your work life may very well be the ones holding you hair as you puke one day, so tread lightly.

--The Milk Maid says sing me a song piano man!

Maybe I should send Tiny-Whiny some flowers a some New York Yankees tickets

Flopping Through Life Like A Stinky Fish

2009-01-04T16:10:00.002-05:00

So, 2009 is here.

So far, so good.

It's only been four days though... give it time!

Work has been busy. I'm still recovering from a cold that has been dragging on for a month. I'm down to just the snots now, so I'm much improved.

We all had a fabulous Christmas- the girls got way more than they needed, Jef was spoiled, I was spoiled.

I'm looking at trading my car (Ni.ssan Ar.mada) and Jef's ride (Mer.cedes 230 S.LK) for a smaller and more economic vehicle with less of a payment. If anyone has any suggestions for new or used cars (vans/SUVS/trucks/donky carts) under the $20k range then give me a shout out in the comment section.

I promise to write more often than I have been... I'm a slacker and I know it!

--The Milk Maid claps her hands!

shoulder pain pump

I Dunno No Blog Titles

2008-12-16T22:50:00.006-05:00

Catching up on things that have been going on, but I haven't blogged about:

I have tuberculosis and herpes.

Ok, not really! Truthfully, I have a cough and cold that comes and goes and an arm rash caused by a small hormonal imbalance and stress.

I have been working my ASS off. I have no rear end left at all... can you say 6 days a week? Or perhaps 7 days a week the way this week's schedule is unfolding? I would love to refer to my work-life as "too much of a good thing".

But speaking of money...

My ex hasn't paid child support in 6 months. I am, oh yes, too nice of a person and I have let him slide. He's moved from Georgia to South Carolina to North Carolina all in the pursuit of "playing cowboy". I should call child support recovery- considering the financial state we are in. I should call the cops, considering the child support laws in GA. I should have bought that pet alligator YEARS ago and let poor Cowboy wander down to the pond and become lunch.

Shoulda, coulda, woulda...

Unfortunately, or as a plus (depending on your point of view), I am a nice person. I have a heart the size of the Continental US. I would see myself as the "bad guy" if I called the Po-Po on the Cowboy and busted him for being a lazy jackass. What would Faith think? What if I was the one to burst her bubble on just how great her father is (in her mind)? I don't want to be that person. I just want her life normal (ahem, hack, gag- hating that word) and as usual.

I can't seem to win for losing sometimes.

In other news: I have been trying to ~~steal~~ borrow permanently quite a few babies from the pediatrics lab as of late. A secret I have kept from almost all of you is that we tried to get all preggo about 9 months ago. My due date, if the conception had taken place, would have been December 24th. I'm feeling the yearning and longing to complete our family so much these days. I know times are as impractical as they get at the moment, but I've always been of the mind that "those who seek will find". By golly I'm seeking...

Our original plans were to try to conceive again around February or March of this coming year. Maybe the plan is still on, but most likely it will be pushed back to who knows when. Everyone sigh with me and we can all get this out of our systems in 3... 2... 1....

SiiiiiiGH!

--The Milk Maid says she sounds all down and out, but she's not in Beverly Hills.

Magnets: Sticking like glue to a fridge near you!

Early Morning Ponder

2008-12-09T07:29:00.004-05:00

Have you ever looked up at the ceiling while in the shower only to see what looks like a tiny spider crawling towards you from the other side of the room?

Have you ever prepared yourself, shower nozzle in hand, to blast that tiny spider from the sanctity of your lair into kingdom come with the water jet set to pulsate?

Have you ever let loose a battle cry of, "sheet rock and subfloor be damned!" as you prepared to take aim by crouching in the farthest corner of the shower?

Have you ever realized, in the middle of defending your territory and your naked body, that the said "spider" was really just a lady bug?

Have you ever had a conversation with a lady bug that was all, "Oh hello Mrs. Lady Bug- I hope thee are well today my fair maiden!".

--The Milk Maid says she, of course, would never do such a thing.

And she would never call any moving companies over arachnids!

Ho Ho Hooo Nooo!

2008-12-07T18:49:00.003-05:00

Christmas is around the corner. Sleigh bells are ringing, carols are being sung, the tree is up, and shopping lists have been made.

Our Christmas will be a thrifty one at best this year. We've been doing the creative finance tango for a while now, and there isn't a lot of extra money to get tons of things the kids really don't need anyway. We narrowed the girl's lists down to what will be appreciated and used and I would like to share a few tips and tricks we are using this year to finance our holiday!

Tip #1:
The bank we use (who is not paying me to shill for them so I will just call them "Bank") offers a rewards program. Simply by opening an account with them and using our debit cards we accrued enough points to receive $120 worth of gift cards. So, by doing what I would have done anyway, I made quite a dent in the old budget.

Tip #2:
I have kept the money I've made by doing online auctions, etc. in my P.ay*P.al account all year long (for the most part) and I'm using that to bid on W.ii games, clothes, toys, and the like for much cheaper than I have found in the stores.

Tip #3:
Much like I did with my Bank's rewards program, a couple of my credit cards offer "cash back" or purchase rewards. I cashed in and gift cards are on the way.

Tip #4:
I'm an online shopaholic! The other day someone recommend the site retailmenot.com which offers promotional codes for just about any store out there. From a percent of the sale off to free shipping to the occasional free product, it's worth a few minutes to go and check it all out!

--The Milk Maid says she hopes she was a helpy-helperton!

appetite suppressant

Built To Last

2008-12-01T18:29:00.003-05:00

Most friendships I've held throughout the years have ended nearly as suddenly as they began. Let's face it, I'm a hard sell for a lifetime commitment. Just ask my ex-phleb class buddy CindyLooHoo, or my ex-BFF from age 6 months through high school, or heck ask my ex-husband (you know, if you can find him).

Luckily, maybe once or twice in a life time, I've found a friend that I know will always be there for me. My number one position is held, of course, by my Big J.

And number two, you ask... C'mon. We all know it's my Pal B.

So, you ponder, just how does a long tall Southern gal and all her witchy ways manage to snag a wallet-toting Mid-West butch gal for her BFF?

The answer to that question is much simpler than it may appear...

We're both fucking warped as hell!

And besides that, well- you could say we've both been burned before (once bitten, twice shy- served as your daily mixed metaphor appetizer) in friendship and in love, we share the same interest in music and in art, and we have a lot of goodness in our tender little hearts- although we'd rather not show that side. We're suckers for the cause. We want to believe that a true friendship can be held intact, and that what we want in life isn't transient.

I think most importantly we understand each other. Through good or bad we know when to press our limits, there are unspoken boundaries we didn't even know we set, and the non-verbal cues (which um, heLLo we speak on the phone 98% of the time so , like that's important!) we share are better than most old married couples.

And when my pal B says something about the side effect of a random medicine being "diarrhea and incompetence"... well, I know for sure, after picking myself up out of the floor and making myself stop laughing, that we must truly share a brain.

Or half at least half a brain.

--The Milk Maid says at least it wasn't incontinence!

system memory is fantasic!

Faith-ism

2008-11-30T19:16:00.002-05:00

(A quote from Faith, said with a slow Southern drawl)...

"Mama, you are soft around the middle like a big ol' ripe blueberry!"

--The Milk Maid will take it as a complement.

Weekly(ish) Recap

2008-11-25T19:21:00.006-05:00

To catch up:

I was going to cook salmon and rice for supper, but the salmon had gone bad.

I hear B's voice out there somewhere saying something to the snarky effect of, "But how do you KNOW when fish has gone bad?" and the obligatory "Bllehh retch!" sounds follow that comment.

B, trust me... it tried to swim out of the zip bag onto the grill. Nasty.

Work is work- I still love it, but I guess the euphoria of it all is wearing off a dab. We have one total party pooper at work- we shall call her Tiny Whiny- and her goal in life seems to be to make me miserable and bitch and whine and run her mouth. Constantly. Totally drama queen-o-rama. I'm a no-fly zone when it comes to all that, so you can only imagine what life has been like the past few weeks.

Other than all the above jazz life is pretty calm and quiet. I haven't had much time to run my usual inner-dialogue so my blogging has suffered. My emailing back has also suffered. My doing anything but working and cooking and occasionally cleaning and eating once or twice a day has suffered.

--The Milk Maid says she's a slacker and she knows it (and claps her hands).

retail jobs anyone?

Discussions

2008-11-13T19:19:00.002-05:00

Yesterday my dad took Faith to the ribbon cutting of a special sports field and playground facility that is dedicated solely towards children with special needs and handicaps. The baseball field is synthetic turf so it's easily accessible for wheelchairs or other motility enhancing devices. There is a playground that is also wheelchair assessable (and it's a pirate ship- how freaking cool is that?!).

Phil Neikro was at the ribbon cutting and was autographing baseballs, hats, shirts, photos, etc. Faith got to meet him and have some photos made with him. She didn't really fathom who he was, but she understood why he was there (to use his fame to promote something positive for the community).

This whole conversation leads into why children have handicaps. All I could really tell her, without going into a long drawn out genetics talk or trying to explain chromosomes or even that sometimes things happen to children born able bodied and they become handicapped or something of the sort, I just told her that some children are chosen by God to be different than we are.

Perhaps later I will elaborate on all of this with Faith, but without prior thought this is all I could produce as an explanation.

Did I handle this right gang?

--The Milk Maid says do the fandango with fancy jewelry!

The Milk MEAD Does RenFest

2008-11-10T13:11:00.004-05:00

MEAD: Honey Wine

After two bottles of this delectable libation at the Houston Renaissance Festival yesterday (shared with my Pal B, of course) I officially declared myself the Milk Mead!

Drunken debauchery, men in kilts taking photos of their bare genitalia, henna tattoos, steak on a stick, Mud Men, and K grounding us from any further alcohol were only some of the highlights of this weekend...

There was also drunk dialing, discussions (in depth) of Brazilian waxing, the whoring of Christoper Titus' comedy on You-Tube, drinking before noon, and the waking up of people who had to go to work today (late last night = getting yelled at).

Tomorrow is back to reality. I fly back home later tonight and leave H-town until a date to be announced much later.

I leave my friends B&K, I leave the city I've come to love, I leave company I am at home with.

-The Milk Maid says party on til next time Garth!

It's All Relative

2008-11-03T20:22:00.003-05:00

I called my mother not long ago to let her know that Jef will drop Ava off around 11:30 tomorrow. She answered the phone with a bump and a bang and then a very sleepy sounding word that came out more like "huhhlow?" than her usual "helloooo!".

My poor mother watched Ava for a whole 5 1/2 hours today. My mother could barely form words into a coherent sentence because she was so exhausted from her day of keeping up with Miss A. Less than six hours... with my dad lending a hand the whole time.

Bless her heart... should I tell her we are planning a third child?

--The Milk Maid says dreamer, nothing but a dreamer.

dont let zits get you down: acne pills

Monday Brain Drain...

2008-10-27T20:39:00.005-04:00

Why do nipples get all perky in cold weather? Why not hot weather or normal weather or only during thunderstorms? Party cloudy with a chance of headlights.

Is my eldest the spawn of Satan? Would that make my ex-husband Satan? But I know plenty of people who could claim their ex as the Devil Himself. Is there more than one Devil? Is that why there are so many names for the Devil- i.e. Satan, Beelzebub, Dark Prince, etc? Or do we just live in a world of synonyms? What is a synonym for synonym?

How do I convince Ava that my arm freckles are not boo-boos? And if Ava continues to poke my freckles while calling them boo-boos will I eventually get boo-boos for her to point at and yell boo-boo?

Is it strange that as I walk around during the day at Super Large Clinic Site I always chuckle the following to myself (or occasionally out loud if my pals are near) when I see one of the OB/Gyn docs: "That person has seen my vagina!". Once I even got to exclaim, "That person has seen a HUMAN HEAD fit through my vajingo!".

--The Milk Maid has lots to ponder...

MBT shoes

The Small Things In Life

2008-10-23T19:46:00.004-04:00

She turned the corner in a hurry. It'd been a hectic day, as usual, but she presented a sincere smile as she turned the corner.

She wasn't sure if what she saw sitting in the woman's lap was a real human child or a baby doll. Perhaps the real kid was hiding under the chairs in the waiting room.

A tiny whine came from the small figure. It was a real baby. The smallest child she'd ever been face to face with.

The mother explained to her that P*rter was nine months old. P*rter had weighed 1.2 pounds at birth, and was now a whopping 4 pounds, 14 ounces. P*rter had also been born with pri*mordial dwarf*ism.

She couldn't help but notice P*rter's sweet face being cascaded in a full head of what she could only describe as "Clay Aiken's hair". Honey brown, sticking out in all directions, and just too adorable for words.

The following day was much the same, only she was working inside instead of with patients. Tiny P*rter needed blood drawn for various tests. Luckily, a heel stick was all that was needed and not a venous draw. The girls in the lab fawned over Mr. P as he was nicknamed. That was Friday.

Monday started like any other day... Patients filling draw rooms, specimen counters were full, people were running left and right and back and forth looking for this and helping that person and calling doctors with STAT reports.

When Dr. Joe walked into the room no one noticed him at first. It's not unusual to see Dr. Joe scooting around the lab. What was unusual was seeing no smile upon Dr. Joe's face.

Everyone paused, sensing some news was coming that no one wanted to hear...

You can stop reading this post now, imagine the outcome of the story, count your sorrows and move along or you can continue to read this post and perhaps be touched in the same way by Mr. P as I was...

Dr. Joe started by saying that he was very sorry to tell us this news. P*rter had passed away in his sleep from complications stemming out of his dwarfism and his prematurity. He continued with he hoped we all got to meet P*rter and celebrate the short time we were blessed with his presence. Dr. Joe wanted to continue, but with a tear in his eye he wished us a good day and quickly walked away leaving everyone in a state of shock.

I couldn't understand how this could have happened. He was just in the office. He was just right there. I had just talked about that sweet baby and how I'd fallen in love with him the moment I'd seen him.

I didn't sleep very well that night. I wrestled with the demons that were trying to tell me that maybe I should have done something different or better or maybe I'd made him sick somehow and it was MY fault that he'd passed away. In that normal area of stillness between dusk and dawn there was turmoil and sadness. How could God have taken this baby away from his parents? The parents who obviously were so filled with love and adoration for their child. If I was feeling this level of sadness and anger then what must his family be feeling?

This morning my feelings shifted from anger and not being able to even fathom the why of it all to something completely different.

How can I make this better? How can I fix this?

My mind raged with ideas from the mundane to the insane. Words like egg donation and surrogacy, as well as concepts like scholarships and fundraisers swirled in the endless abyss of my thoughts. Even the image of a Stephen King's Pet Cemetery style reincarnation came to mind, albeit briefly.

After much debate and lots of inner-monologue-style discussions I will be attending the memorial service in honor of Mr. P's life on behalf of the lab department. It wont fix anything and it wont change anything and it won't bring P*rter back, but it is the least I can do. If for no one else but myself.

Blab From The Lab

2008-10-15T19:34:00.004-04:00

You know you have had a long day at the lab when:

You compare a small child's hair-do to Clay Aiken's tousled tresses
You look forward to changing your tampon just to get a moments peace and be able to sit down for longer than half a nano-second
You attempt to put the step culture plates into the microwave
You only realize it was the microwave when a co-worker goes to reheat her coffee and calls the fact out to you
You really don't care if you put the plates in the microwave because it's basically the same as an incubator
Except you eat food from that microwave and you do not want strep germs in your potato soup tomorrow
And you really (really) had to think about just how much you didn't want strep throat to walk the whole 12 feet back to said microwave and correct your mistake

--The Milk Maid says these boots aren't made for walking.

audio book

Pass The Cup

2008-10-07T21:35:00.006-04:00

It's a question on every one's mind, I'm certain. You have been there, I'm positive.

Imagine yourself sitting with your legs spread open in a public bathroom, holding a sterile cup under your stream of urine, trying your best not to wet your hand. You start to pee, hitting your hand (of course) and then repositioning the cup. You stop peeing, you bring the cup up to eye level to judge the amount of urine in the cup.

How much IS enough? You don't want to under fill the cup... that's got to be a sign of bad manners or ignorance or something awful, right? But on the other hand, you don't want to put too much in the cup either!

You put the cup back between your legs, wet your hand again, and finally get what seems to be an appropriate amount in the cup. Until you bring it to eye level again and it seems like too much now!

So you dump some out.

And now there isn't enough.

Would you like to know just how much is enough for a urine specimen cup? Sure you do!

Usually, and this is based on my personal experience as a urine dipper/micro-analyzer/urine culturer at Super Huge Clinic and not on any fact or written medical guideline (merely my own opinion as someone who sees a lot of piss during the day), I say aim for 1/3-1/2 full in the specimen cup.

Wanna know WHY? I'm telling you anyways, so listen up:

The pee is first "dipped" to test for leukocytes, blood, glucose, pH, and some other junk. The dip strip is about 4 inches long (ours gets run through a nifty bar code based auto scan machine!). The best way to make a 4 inch long flexible dip strip get covered uniformly in pee pee is to tilt the cup. Not enough urine makes me work to hard. Too much urine means that I get pee on my gloved hand, the counter, my shoes, my scrubs- you get the picture.

Next, if you have wonkie outta-whack pee (highly technical term there) it will either need (a) a micro (looking at your tinkle after spinning it in a centrifuge to see all the nasty in it at 100x magnification or (b) a culture. That means a little more pee than just a spritz at the bottom.

Lastly, if your pee is really messed up- like loads of blood, nitrites, leukocytes and that whole deal, then option (b) will be performed and you will have your wee-wee sent off in a "culture" tube. The culture tube is the same size as a smaller blood vile and works pretty much the same way- through a vacuum that slurps the pee into it and mixing it with a preservative. You need more than a sprinkle for this, most definitely.

Ok, so perhaps I got a little more technical than I was going for in all of that, but I just can't help myself sometimes. Everyone of us has had that moment in the bathroom wondering just how much is enough and how much is too much.

And if you were wondering, yes the lab tech will laugh at you if you send out an overflowingly full cup of tinkle. Especially is it is wet on the outside. Because we know you didn't wash the pee off the side of the cup. And if you hands are wet then you are just waaay gross. Because it's not water- oooh no! We know better.

And don't hide your pee cup in a paper towel. You made that whizz, be proud and show it off!

And if you are on your period TELL THE TECH... no body wants you to pee Hawaiian Punch in a cup- fo' reals yo!

Maybe tomorrow I will cover the do's and don'ts of all tests involving poop!

--The Milk Maid says she's just pissing off these days.

(acne cures for all!)

Random Lyrics

2008-10-06T19:28:00.003-04:00

The song in my head today was Belinda Carlisle's I Touch Myself.

Well, that was the song in my head. The lyrics seemed to change once I got home and started coughing (like I've been doing on and off- mostly on- for a couple weeks now). It was more like:

When I cough around you I pee myself...

Oh sure, there was a lyric in there somewhere about running out of clean shorts, and being in need of Depends, and what the fark did my children do to my blader?... but I've given you enough of a mental picture for today, right?

--The Milk Maid says pee is always good blog fodder.

unlocked cell phones are HERE!

6 Fabulous Years!

2008-10-05T16:26:00.002-04:00

Happy Anniversary to my Big J...

It's been the best 6 years of my life, and I'm looking forward to many more happy years together!

Love ya,

The Milk Maid

Catching Up

2008-09-30T20:54:00.003-04:00

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.

acne treatment

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

2008-09-22T19:33:00.002-04:00

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.

Canon Powershot

Two

2008-09-20T22:10:00.005-04:00

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...

2008-09-18T19:55:00.004-04:00

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!

futures trading

Tales From The Clinic

2008-09-14T13:46:00.003-04:00

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!

digital cameras

There Is No Flea At The Market

2008-09-07T15:08:00.004-04:00

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:

S-U-C-K-E-R-S-!

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

Saturday

2008-09-06T11:24:00.002-04:00

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.

Kohler faucets

The Super Large Clinic Site Is Mine, ALL MINE!

2008-09-02T15:37:00.003-04:00

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!

Jog Blog Day 1

2008-08-26T19:42:00.004-04:00

I went out to jog today saying piss on the rain and just going for it. My run/walk combo went well. I did a warm up of about 20 minutes of brisk walking followed by 7 repetitions of jogging for 1 minute and walking for 2. I was in the cool down when, as we call it around here, a Turd Floater hit. The rain (which I am personally responsible for bringing, but more on that in a few) was heavy enough to soak through my french-braided hair! I drove home in my sports bra and panties. I of course had to call my Pal B and tell her, and I think she said something to the effect of, "You're gonna get arrested for that shit!".

Now, as far as me being responsible for the rain- and you heard it here first my loyal readers- as soon as I decided to get outside and exercise copious amount of rain started to fall in drought-laden Georgia! I feel that Governor Pardue should give me a cash reward, the key to the city, and I should have a street in Downtown named after me: Milk Maid Avenue!

I learned a fascinating bit of trivia from one of the running websites I have been frequenting since my desire to shape up has taken, well- shape. Did you know that improperly holstered breasts can bounce as far as 8 vertical inches while running?! That goes for us bustier gals as well as members of the A cup club.

Now, some of you may think I'm a pervert and some of you may think I'm a sadist, but I want to see a normal little A cup boobie bounce like that. Whatever you may think, I know that deep down you too want to know just how in the hell something like that is possible!

--The Milk Maid makes milk shakes, but they only come in more than a mouthful size!

Getting My Beefy Backside In Gear, And Other Thoughts

2008-08-25T19:42:00.005-04:00

I have decided to start jogging. I have a very basic, simple and EASY plan that I think I can stick to... There are tons of ideas and advice at runnersworld.com if anyone else out there feels the need to hit the trail and toss back a mile or two. I would like to be able to run a mile in under 8 minutes. Truth be told, I would like to be able to run a mile without passing out. So, that's my goal now. I'm giving myself 5 weeks!

Seeing as how I have heard NADA from the large clinic place as far as employment I will have lots of time to devote to exercise. I put in an application at the hospital and for a waitress position at the local veteran's hall. It's amazing really- I feel like I went to school so I could either a) stay unemployed or b) have old men oogle my boobies BUT makes lots of money pouring the booze in them.

I blame my need to become healthier on two things: My pal B informed me that she's managed to lose 10 pounds. In a month. Without having to chop off an appendage! Admittedly, I'm jealous. I'm also quite porky. I'm also pretty competitive, so if I can lop off a few blobby fat rolls in the name of good clean fun then why not go for it!?

In other news:

Faith just informed me that the reason we wear underwear is so that our butt hair doesn't get too long. The underwear is there to grind it down. Ya see, the things you learn from ten year olds are just mesmerizing!

Ava has decided that weemweem (ice cream) is the best stuff ever to eat. She says that weemweem needs a poon (spoon). Budder (peanut butter) also needs a poon. You just can have one without the other. Cheers to poon and budder!

Chance To Win!

2008-08-25T13:53:00.003-04:00

I heard about a pretty cool promo the other day for Boyle's Furniture- a great little discount furniture place. They are having a promo event by having a $10,000 Dream Room Furniture Giveaway!

If you are like me, then your couch has cereal crumbled all over it, a sprinkle of baby tinkle from a diaper mishap long ago, some current cat and dog hair, something red- possibly spaghetti sauce?- that wont go away no matter how hard you scrub, and other stuff that is best left unmentioned (and get your mind out of the gutter- I know what you are thinking and it's NOT anything like that).

Here is the link to the contest for anyone who is interested- just click the artwork below to go sign up:

And if you happen to win your very own dream room, can you send The Milk Maid a little something... like a new couch.

--The Milk Maid thinks furniture should come with dishwasher safe cushions!

"Like Some Kind Of Cloning Experiment"

2008-08-21T16:49:00.004-04:00

"I do not want my pants touching my stomach!" commanded the Big One. "I do not want to wear socks- they hurt my feet and make my toes feel crunchy!" she lamented as she rolled around on the hardwood floor with a foot in the air. She is not a morning person. She doesn't like authority telling her what to do. Although highly open to suggestions, she will not take a direct order. She's moody, she's willful, and she's stubborn. And impatient. She's also tenderhearted, a daydreamer, always willing to stop and help a friend or an animal. Did I mention she's also impatient?

The Little One has a stare that will pierce your soul. She's demanding. She's particular. She makes Imelda Marcos' love for shoes look like a carefree weekend hobby. She can pick the simple style of door lock with a screw driver. She can charm the pants off a priest, she can sell a leg of lamb to a vegetarian, and she has so much energy that at times it's like watching a comet rocket through the living room.

Between the two of my daughters, I can't even begin to tell you who has the most vivid of personalities. Faith is constantly into a video game or a scary RL Stine-ish book. Ava has her daddy wrapped around her pinkie finger. Faith can be like living with a piranha- don't dangle your sarcasm into her lake of wit or you will be gobbled up. The velociraptor's style befits Ava... show her something just one time and she will come back and gnaw your arm off with the knowledge she's gained.

And to think, as smart and funny and beautiful as my girls have been described by others (as well as myself) the same theme keeps coming up over and over...

They are exactly like I am. They look like me, they act like me, they walk and talk like me. I hate pants on my belly button. I can pick locks with screw drivers.

I made the comment to Jef the other night (after Ava had flooded the bathroom floor with a cup she'd hidden away sometime after her last bath... um, premeditation anyone?), that was something to the effect of "I hope the next kid that springs forth from my womb is a HELL of a lot more like you than me!"

--The Milk Maid says wee wee wee all the way home.

Very Foto-Genic Celeb

2008-08-19T21:54:00.003-04:00

Does anyone see anything very, um... outstanding in this photo?

Um, you say no. You see nothing other than a loving father carrying his adorable daughter around?

I think I see why Angelina is so in love with this guy... Look closer. Here, I'll help you. How about NOW:

--The Milk Maid says hotdamn, yummy, and ohmegawd! in her best O face.

That'll Teach Me To Hum A Happy Tune

2008-08-19T14:30:00.005-04:00

The Scene:

Me puttering about the kitchen, cooking dinner, humming to myself. Faith enters the room, circles around me to see what I am making (it's basil mustard chicken, if you were wondering) and asks...

Faith: Mama, what are you humming?
Me: The theme song to Flipper. You know... They call him Flipper, Flipper, faster than lightning...
Faith: (blank stare) What's a Flipper?
Me: (shocked and waiving arms wildly) Flipper! The dolphin! He helped his little pal Sandy out of trouble. You know, like Timmy and Lassie, but only with a dolphin.
Faith: Who are Timmy and Lassie?
Me: (open mouth, slack jawed expression) Why don't you go watch Pokemon and let me finish dinner?

The thought running through my head:

Frick on a stick, am I really THAT old?!

--The Milk Maid is in fear of becoming the Buttermilk Maid.

home theater seating

One Of Those Friday Mish-Mash Kinda Days

2008-08-15T18:13:00.002-04:00

Been a while, hasn't it gang?

I'm having one of those days- you know, where you can't decide whether to pull your hair out and scream or dance, sing a silly song, and burp the alphabet.

I think I would most like to be laying on a sofa bed, somewhere about 1000 miles west of here, deciding what I want for dinner and having some girl-talk time with my peeps B&K. I've felt really secluded the past month and a half, and it's mostly because I dove head first into my clinicals. I wish I had some IRL friends that weren't two-faced hypocrites, but that's another story and another woe for another day.

I am still trying to round up contacts and former employers and dates and times and my bra size from 8 years ago (that would be easier than half the shit they are wanting, truth be told) for the HR lady (whose last name rhymes with marijuana). That's just irony in itself people, because I have not met a bigger buzz kill in say FOREVER. She's very needy and not so bright. Sigh- the things we do for gainful employment.

Faith's new nickname is Captain Obvious. With comments like, "Mom that man is cutting grass with his lawnmower!" and "Do you think it's hot outside because the temperature is so high?" let's just say she's earned the moniker.

--The Milk Maid says stinky feet, the game that's neat!

xbox 360

Hide-Y Ho Neighbors!

2008-08-13T18:26:00.004-04:00

Hello all- I've been quite sparse. I've finished clinicals and MISS the FUCK out of my peeps at super huge clinic spot. I felt all bLaH last Friday- too blah for a mish-mash even, so I've kinda ducked low and been holding a lot of stuff in.

Some "hey we have a time line now" kind of stuff has been happening on the Let's Have Another Baby front- we're looking into January or February of 2009 if you were hanging on the edge of your seats... like all ONE of you.

Faith started 5th grade recently- and she loves it tremendously! The teacher is a young skinny preppy peppy pep-squadish type, but I will resist the urge to annihilate her with a bazooka.

I got a new cat Saturday night. Jef was already against the cat, but I went against him with the mantra of "it's easier to ask forgiveness than permission"! The cat's name, who is a loverly long haired black furred male sans nads type, was Jellybean. I said Ix Nay on the AmeNay and changed it to Mungojerrie (wiki this!). Mungo J is an outside kinda guy, so as soon as he graces us with his presence again I will feature him!

--The Milk Maid says tis better to win by admitting your sins that to lose with a halo.

Best Buy

Find Wall, Bang Head, Repeat As Needed.

2008-08-06T19:47:00.004-04:00

Today was the first day in almost 5 whole weeks of phlebotomy-ing that I really really wanted to ~~mame~~ ~~behead~~ squash a child into tiny little pieces...

The Scene: The pediatric phlebotomy/lab area

The Victim: A pre-coffee, pre-breakfast, pre-menstrual Milk Maid

The Culprit: Very tall, very muscular 10 year old boy

The Crime (according to Boy): Did not want a "booboo" on his "little tiny finger". He whine*cry*sniffle wanted his "mommy". "Nooooo booooooboooooo nooooooo!"

The Crime (according to Milk Maid): Whiny boy in need of parental supervision, a set of testicles, and some added testosterone.

To The Rescue: MB (my pedi-partner) who ran through the door and said, "My gosh I thought that you were killing a baby!"

--The Milk Maid says her ears still ring with the sound that surely bellows forth from the depths of Hell.

got acne?

Ninja Phlebotomist Girl Has Wicked Fast Reflexes

2008-07-31T18:29:00.006-04:00

This week during my clinical adventures I have moved to the pediatric side of the lab. The phleb that closes down at night will always have to wrap up on the pedi side, so the experience is a must. However, in my book- a book that includes cooties, vomit, urine, and pain in the ass spoiled brats- the experience is bringing in mixed reviews.

I love the kids that come in that are ready and willing to go. I love the kids that are scared of what will happen to them and I take the time to explain what I am doing and why it's being done. I even love the babies that have puked up milk on me (cause God bless them they are so freakin cute, even with sour-milk breath). I even love the kids who squeal and wiggle- they bleed faster and get out sooner.

What I don't like is a 13 year old girl who tries to bite me (yes I said BITE me) while I'm doing a strep throat swab. What I dislike equally as much is the 11 year old who took a fucking swing at me while doing yet another throat culture (I'm beginning to see a pattern here).

I handled biting girl by pinching her nose (ever so gently of course) and forcing her to either open up and let me swab or pass out. Either way works, right?

I handled the knock out kid like this: She swung at my head with her left hand, I used my left to grab her wrist (as her unconcerned mother looked on) and use my fast reflexes to swab just as vigorously as I could with my right hand. I then proceeded to give her a glare that could have melted polar ice. One of those "You picked the wrong bitch today" looks. My Nike Shox are now officially my new bitch shoes.

Starting Monday I will float between offices- the main lab, a satellite location that is 10 minutes from home, and possibly yet another location later on that is south of here but still very close. My application has officially been pulled for review by Head Lab Lady. SB, who is 2nd in command, but my direct supervisor, assures me I have job. Not that I was too worried.

--The Milk Maid says why buy the cow when you get the Milk Maid for free?

Tone up with this fantastic weight equipment... You know you wanna!

Enjoy The Ride

2008-07-26T14:29:00.004-04:00

Disclaimer: This post may include the following phrases...

Bear with me here
No, I am not entirely sure where I am going with this either
Stop me if I ramble
My train of thought has derailed yet again

(and my personal favorite)

There once was a man from Nantucket

With Big J working some odd freakin hours it's given me some time to contemplate lots of stuff. The important things like Oh hey if you kick the tar out of the couch that toe nail will completely fall off! and Why does the dog enjoy eating saw dust?!

I miss my fella when he's gone, but I have actually had some nice insights to myself as of late. One of which is just how high my energy level is. And how the whole concept of "when I'm busy I'm happy" (aka idle hands do the Devil's work) really applies to me.

Another insight I've had is how co-dependent I am with Big J. The longest time apart I've had from my babe since we started dating is the 3 1/2 days I was in Houston recently. It was healthy time away (ok, maybe the combo and amount of wine, Greek food, and jelly beans I had wasn't healthy, but me being ME away from Big J was beneficial). But as soon as I got back to the airport... well, let's just saw those "drop your luggage and run into your lover's arms to the cheers of the crowd" commercials got nuttin on me and him. I know now that I can make it on my own for more than 5 minutes. I'm a big kid now, yo!

A lot of these insecurities from the past are what caused me to change my name from That Other Name to Aradia (which is technically what it used to be before it was changed... I need to publish a Cliff's Notes for all this, right?). Jef knew me as That Other Name long before I got the wild hair to change it. Jef still calls me by That Other Name as often as not. In all my school and work stuff I tend to go by that name since Aradia is so unusual, has such an interesting meaning, and leads to a lot of uncomfortable conversation (the conversation itself is uncomfortable- I'm still anti-social by any title). Many of my virtual friends out there (that'd be some of y'all) even know That Other Name.

I really think that the whole Aradia name has been a sort of Talisman for me. It's who I want to be. Aradia is confident and cool, even slightly cocky and headstrong at times. Aradia will jump into a gang and become a pirate ninja mobster and help to kick people's asses. That Other Name is shy little girl who wouldn't (couldn't) muster the voice to order in a restaurant for herself until she was 17 years old. If then. That Other Name was a badge of weakness and shame. That Other Name endured hardships and tragedy that no child should have to face, and that even the Mighty Aradia still isn't ready to blog about.

In my recent past, by whatever moniker I've chosen to divulge, I have managed to come out ahead. Be it in school, in work, or just in daily life, I have managed to merge the best of That Other Name with the best of Aradia. I've felt a wholeness that doesn't need a designation to exist.

A rose by any other name I suppose?

Am I going to narrow my appellation down to just one in the near future? No... As far as I've come it's still nice to have my talisman. It's still nice to be able to completely be myself here, and That Other Name is never likely to let me off the chain to reach far enough to be comfortable.

I suppose part of the progress I've made (or the Lexapr0 has made) in me is to come to an agreement with myself about all of this. Truthfully, it's all trivial to most people out there. To me it feels like a big step forward.

--The Milk Maid says sweet are the uses of adversity!

Akavar

This N Thats N Such

2008-07-21T19:01:00.003-04:00

Hello All!

Yet another lovely day in phlebotomy-land! I'm really tired, I'm really hungry, and I really don't wanna cook, so perhaps delivery is on the menu tonite.

Big J is clucking along happily at his new job (did I mention he has a job? He's been there 2 weeks and loves it- there, I mentioned it!). He hurt his foot the other day and has been limping around on a swollen, blueish tootsie for a couple of days. He was off of work today, so he iced his foot on and off most of the day. Perhaps I wont have to amputate it-- maybe he will go to the DOCTOR (ahem, if you are reading this, you big goober!).

Anywhos- perhaps one day I will write something witty and not about blood. Of course, maybe one day I will have enough brain cells left to write more than 12 complete sentences in a blog too. Everyone hold your breath and see what color blue you turn before that happens, ok?

Oh- and I promise a Milk Maid Behaving Badly in Houston post soon. Kinda soon. Soonish...

--The Milk Maid says two-step your way to your powdered sugar stash!

private jet charter

Hi, My Name Is Milk Maid And I Suck

2008-07-17T18:50:00.002-04:00

I have been SO F-IN BUSY at clinicals that when I come home I promptly collapse into a heap in the garage. I cannot even fathom walking into the living room and laying on something besides cold hard concrete. I am up to 227 sticks in less than 2 weeks (I need 306 to ace the clinicals class) and I am a super duper pooper doopered gal.

Can I reiterate the point that I.fuckin.love.my.job ~~i'm not getting paid to do, so maybe it isn't really a job, but nonetheless bear with me and all that jazz~~! Seriously, I have never been so happy to get up and go do something for zero moolah in my whole existence. I haz a lurve, oh yes I do.

I put in an application to my clinical site for employment, and my "girl" J who is over me, but under the direct supervisor, told me that if it was up to her she would have hired me on day 3 of my training. Even the big boss (S) bragged to my phlebotomy teacher about how wonderful I was. My head is totally like this --> [--------------------------------] big. And then they all found out I can ~~mutilate~~ speak the Spanish language- and they were jumping for joy! Asi is la vida, no?

--The Milk Maid says me gusta tu carne!

personalized gifts

Drink Du Jour Winner

2008-07-14T19:11:00.004-04:00

Out of all the wonderful, tasty, cool and frost beverages that were submitted there was one that stood out from the crowd! Not only was this drink tasty, it was something I already had most of the ingredients for and was made easily and quickly! Of course, good things come to those who wait and a great deal of shopping and mixing for an optimum beverage is not that much of a stretch when it comes down to it. The real factor in deciding who #1 was going to be was the taste (like duh!- right?).

So, without further adieu the Drink Du Jour winner for June was.....

Deena at The Lazy P and her kickin' Gimlet!

Very clean, very crisp, very easy to make and imbibe- the gimlet is a fashionable drink that you don't have to put on your three piece suit to have a sip! Perfect for summertime, party time, and anytime (!) it quickly became my favorite new fire water.

And, if you drink just enough of these tasty lil drinks, you can do the following just like me and my pal D...

Deena, your loverly prize from Milk-Induced Coma Land will arrive on your door step within the next 10-12 days. Once you get it I'll post a pic for all to see!

--The Milk Maid says please sign this release to indemnify your rights.

Ladybug steam cleaners

They Call Me Pokey McSticker

2008-07-09T18:06:00.003-04:00

People. Arms. Median cubital veins. Blood. Gauze. Paperwork. Computers. Big honkin' needles.

Can I just say, "I freakin LOVE my work!!!". Really, really, really!!!

The lab girls are so friendly (and share my warped sense of humor), the boss comes in late and leaves early, and most people have superb veins. And those people who seem to have forgotten to bring their veins IN for their lab work? Oh, I root and toot and hunt around like an old pro. If I still don't find a vein, I just yell ("heeeelp" squeals the Milk Maid).

Life is good... I am tired...

--The Milk Maid says half the sticks at one third of the pain!

headphones

Firework Friday Mish-Mash

2008-07-04T13:30:00.003-04:00

Happy 4th my peeps!

I'm in happy Houston for the long weekend... B&K have pretty much taken me hostage and are feeding me copious amounts of food, forcing me to imbibe far too much alcohol, making me sing and dance to Salt & Peppa songs, watch dirty comedy movies, and have a TERRIFIC time!

Today we head out for some adventure (to some undisclosed location).

Hope everyone has a safe and happy holiday!

--The Milk Maid says whatchu wanna do, I wanna shoop!

memory

I'll Take Peter, Paul, And Mary Songs For $500 Alex!

2008-07-01T14:53:00.003-04:00

I'm leaving on a jet plane! No, really!!

A couple of weeks ago- after shutting down their blogs without TELLING me first, giving me a heart attack, making me has a sad, and then bribing me to stop whining- my pals B&K hatched a glorious scheme.

"Come to Houston, Milk Maid!" they echoed in happy harmony.

So, me being the clingy, needy wife that I am- who would never, ever leave her hubby for a long weekend trip to a city far, far away- promptly fooled all the doubters (B included) and booked a ticket to H-ton. Yes, really. Really, really.

So, for the past week or more, every single day (occasionally multiple times) my phone will ring or my email will bleep with the same question: Are you still coming?

Of course the answer is and always has been: Are you still sure you want me?

--The Milk Maid says kiss me and smile for me!

(Does colon cleanser work on commas?)

The Case Of The Missing Sister Mish-Mash

2008-06-27T11:06:00.002-04:00

Thursday night a little after 9pm the phone rang. I looked at the caller ID and saw that it was Jef's sister D's number. I handed him the phone, thinking the call would be something about the upcoming move that Jef's dad will be making or other brotherly/sisterly based conversation.

Within a few seconds I realized by the look on Jef's face that this call was very, very different. It was Bro Mikey calling (D's hubby). D was supposed to pick their son up from the airport at 3. She'd sent their son a text saying she was running a little behind. D never showed up at the airport; no one had heard from her in person since noon.

We all feared the worst.

Jef's brother, Ronny, passed away just over a year ago. D has a history of seizures. Our minds raced- what could have happened?! A heart attack, a stroke, a seizure-- was she carjacked in the middle of downtown Atlanta?

Needless to say, we didn't sleep a wink that night awaiting the news of Deby's fate.

The next morning on the way to grab breakfast Jef's cell phone rang. My heart sank. I didn't want to hear the news that I was certain awaited. I didn't want to see Jef's eyes well with tears and his heart break over the loss of his sister.

D was safe and sound... and I have never been so happy to hear that someone had spend the night in jail.

The rest of the story is still unfolding, but it is claimed that D's transgressions were just a case of a simple mix up. Only time will tell... And jailbird or not I'm glad as heck she's ok!

--The Milk Maid says roast your jailbird at 425 degrees for one hour for best flavor.

Bottoms Up!

2008-06-25T14:57:00.002-04:00

If you will recall, not very long ago I asked for some drink suggestions for a little contest. Thanks to all those of you who have sent suggestions like Deena, Mother Hen, K, Dalton's Mom (ohh- Dalton's mom- what kind of beer?? I'm dying to ~~drink~~ know!) and any one else I've forgotten on my road to drinkdom. I'm still open for any and all suggestions and voting will be open until the 30th of June.

There is a REAL prize involved here- and it's purdy spiffy if I do say so myself!

To note: Last week Jef and I tried the cranberry margarita (thanks Mother Hen!!!). Tonite sounds like a Lazy P Gimlet kind of nite.

--The Milk Maid says CHEERS!

Window Pain

2008-06-23T14:26:00.018-04:00

Once upon a time, in a far away land, lived the Milk Maid and her exceedingly brilliant husband, the Milk Man.

These two characters cavorted in many a scheme, but perhaps none so great as to install a window in the sacred kitchen. You see, long before the Milk Man came to live in the Casa Del Leche, the industrious Milk Maid built (with her own glove-clothen hands) the soon to become Casa De Leche for all to see. However, the kitchen sink view was lacking in the fact that there was no window to view the glory beyond it's pane (on a side note, the garage is all there would be to view, but nonetheless the Milk Maid proclaimed that if she were to stand for wretched hours on end scrubbing and scraping and cleaning the dishes like some simple peasant girl well she absolutely MUST have a glimpse of something other than sheet rock).

The Milk Man obliged the fair Milk Maid, measuring and cutting the wall that was to become a portal to the world.

The Milk Maid was slightly worried, but she had complete faith and trust in her man. Well, pretty much.

The preliminary cuts were made, and the Milk Man handed his lovely bride her tool kit. She chose the hammer without further adieu.

Ravishing the wall blow by blow, like a scene from a Victorian Romance Novel gone amok, the Milk Maid tore away at the wall.

A gasp from the Milk Maid... Was it the evil sorcerer behind the wall? A dragon? The curse of a long dead king?

No... it was far worse!

It was 2 electrical cables, one telephone wire, and a 4 inch water pipe that gripped our sweaty adventurers that day.

The Milk Man turned to the Milk Maid, with love in his eyes and proclaimed, "Woman, I think our journey should end here".

The Milk Maid, with sorrow in her eyes asked, "Why can we make an S-bend in the pipe and reroute the wires? I mean, come on dude- let's rock and roll. Mama wants to see some sunshine every once and a while!".

The Milk Man touted, "Fair Maid of the Milk, have you lost your mind? Do you know the hours evolved in something of that magnitude?"

The Milk Maid looked almost doleful, then recanted, "Hey jackleg- all I want is a little sunshine in MY day, I don't know about YOU, but..."

"How about a nice tile back splash here? It's easy to patch sheet rock, and we can put a beautiful mosaic- perhaps of the beach- right about here..."

"Ooooh!" gleamed the Milk Maid. "And maybe even a little metal back splash over here, and some blue paint here, and a new floor here, and even a couple of new handles for the cabinets which need a good scrubbing by the by, and maybe even a couple..."

--The Milk Man says "Yes, my lady"!

Saturday Dookerific Ramblings

2008-06-21T19:33:00.002-04:00

Some days it amazes me how great I feel, but most days are like today. Nothing to work towards. No direction. No momentum. No give a shit.

I don't like being bitter. I don't like the cynicism. I don't like who I am or how I feel about it all.

But nonetheless I'm pretty much stuck with me.

I've tried not to keep it all so bottled up or hold it in or fuel the fire of a grudge, but I can't let any of it go as of late.

I love Jef being home, but some days I wonder if he still sees the girl he married.

I enjoy the freedom to gain an education, but I wonder if all my hard work, sleepless nights, and effort will amount to any kind of decent pay check or feeling of self worth.

I love my friends, but I wonder how easy it is for them to "take their ball and go home" in my life- so to speak.

I love the fact that I have decent people reading skills, but I dread the paranoia that brings my way when I'm feeling low.

I love my blog, but I wonder some days if anyone out there loves what I do here.

Don't worry, loyal readers (if there are any). You can't shut me up. I'll be here babbling on and on until someone pulls the plug.

--The Milk Maid listens to the sound of silence.

anyone for Mac memory ?

FRYday Mish-Mash

2008-06-20T17:23:00.003-04:00

Summer is in full swing here in the ATL! Kids are in the pool or splashing through sprinklers, gardens are growing, and parents who forgot their daily dash of d.o. are freaking out their kids with well timed headlocks. That's the rumor at least.

Jef and I are still enjoying the marital blissathon that is his temporary unemployment! However, an old pal of Jef's owns a motorcycle shop nearby and is down a few men. One well timed phone call later, Jef has an interview and a solid chance at getting the position. Everyone cross your fingers and hold your breath. Well, just hold it for like 10 seconds or so-- I may be CPR certified, but chances are I'm not that close in location to you. And I like you. So don't pass out and die on me, mmm k?

--The Milk Maid says blow my mind, not my cover!

leptovox

Hair I Am!

2008-06-19T14:39:00.004-04:00

Today was the first day in- ohh - months (like before MAMU way back in March) that I'd gotten my hair colored and cut. I feel fabulous with my touched up tresses, which are now long enough to fall a good 3 or 4 inches below my shoulders.

I completed my intro to venipuncture course yesterday. I also received my CPR certification for adults, children, and infants plus the bonus AED cert (one of those defib in a bag deals).

I have two weeks off before clinicals begin! What will I do with all that spare time I wonder?

Faith is in a Creepy Climby Super Slimy Camp this week at the local nature center. She gets to play with snakes and bugs, play in the creek and slide down waterfalls.

I ordered a ton of scrubs at an online shop called Scrubs Gallery. Here's a little linky to them if anyone is interested in updating their collection of nursing uniforms at a reasonable price!

--The Milk Maid says sail for the sale!

Plunking Along UPDATED

2008-06-16T16:02:00.006-04:00

I made it out of A&P alive- with a C average. I could really care less at this point because 1) everyone bombed on the last test (class average was a 51, I made a 61) and 2) I'm done I'm done I never have to do it again (I hope) I'm DONE!

**UPDATE**
Considering we did not have a "final exam" per say in A&P the teacher readjusted our weekly test grades to reflect that fact... and I ended up with an 83 average in A&P!!!! Can you say "hell fuckin' yeah?!" (:::the milk maid grabs her chest, does a Mick Jaggeresque strut around the dining room table while she screams HoooHaaaa Bite My Snausage!:::)

My clinical site is confirmed for Super Large Clinic Site. I start that adventure on July 7th.

We had a nice Father's Day- I cooked Jef and dad a super huge standing rib roast with mashed potatoes and corn on the cob. We ate until we collapsed and had to be wheel-barrowed across the yard and dumped onto the couch. Jef's real Father's day gift is supposed to show up today... I'm sure he'll showcase his gift from Ava and Faith in a future episode of MIC (that's Milk-Induced Coma, FYI).

Anyone read any good diet pill reviews as of late?

I would like- no I would LOVE- to start doing a little "beverage du jour" post once a week or so. Gather up your suggestions (and I know you have them!) for wine, mixed drinks, beer or ale, shooters, or any other adult beverage -- or even adult beverage substitute!!-- for yours truly to try and review. I am holding a nice little gift (a REAL gift for a real giveaway) for the Best Drink of the Month Contest. You have until the end of this month to submit ideas, every one's name will go into a hat, and the winner will get the PrIzE! Fo reals yo!

--The Milk Maid says many will enter, few will win- No purchase necessary!!

Just Another Friday Mish-Mash

2008-06-13T11:39:00.003-04:00

Jef was supposed to go back to work yesterday, but the boss-dude called and said to wait until Friday (they were trying to work stuff out). Well, they didn't want him to come in today either. So I don't know if he really has a job or what the hell is going on.

Dad snapped my head off this morning because I'm apparently "very snappy" these days. Maybe I am very snappy, but I don't need that pointed out in every single conversation we have. And just FYI dad- when you start the conversation off by saying how snappy I am, well I'm going to really be a bitch then.

I have my last 2 A&P tests by Sunday and if I can make it out of that class with a B average I'll be just thrilled. Just freakin' thrilled. I'm seriously doubting at this point I will make it out with the B I currently have, seeing as how the class average is below failing (well below) on both tests. I'm half tempted to just open the tests, take them and just be over it. But noo- I have some sense of moral obligation to do well and apply myself. Sometimes I really hate that about me.

--The Milk Maid is just a poor little pork chop living in a steak's world.

medigap

Playing Ketchup

2008-06-11T08:27:00.002-04:00

Blogging you all up to speed:

Jef got the job. He starts tomorrow.
My last A&P class is TODAY. Thank you lord!! I will take my two remaining tests online (due no later than Sunday) and that is all she wrote.
On the 18th I take my final in my intro to venipuncture class. I have a 6 hour CPR certification class the teacher is teaching before hand. She kinda "forgot" we needed that, so now we cram.
My clinical site that was the hospital might be changed. We had to draw names and although I am guaranteed a spot in the first round (July 7- Aug 8) I may not be at the hospital, but rather the super-huge clinic right across the street. At this point, I could care less. I'm just happy to be finished with A&P (:::the milk maid runs in circles and squeals with delight:::)

--The Milk Maid says buy diet pills online and save yourself the hassle of having to get out of your car and walk to the store.

Tammy Tagged Me!

2008-06-09T11:07:00.003-04:00

(A long time ago!-- Sorry for being slack!!)

The rules: Each player answers the questions about themselves. At the end of the post, the player then tags 5-6 people and posts their names, then goes to their blogs and leaves them a comment, letting them know they’ve been tagged and asking them to read your blog. Let the person who tagged you know when you’ve posted your answer.

1) What was I doing ten years ago?
10 years ago today I had my gall bladder removed.

2) What are five (non-work) things on my to-do list for today:
- A&P Class
- Chiropractor
- Lunch with Cindy-Loo-Hoo
- Intro to Venipuncture class
- A&P workbook (barf)

3) Snacks I enjoy:
Um, hello- ANY food will do. Especially chocolate food, pizza, Doritos!

4) Things I would do if I were a billionaire:
Buy my own island, have a staff of cabana boys, and try my best to turn into Karen Walker from the TV show Will & Grace. Oh, and save the world and stuff too.

5) Places I have lived:
GA- mom and dad's house, front yard, backyard, about 10 miles away (for 3 months). Oh I'm such an exciting person!

6) Jobs I have had:
Dog groomer, real estate assistant, administrative assistant, Chief Pain In The Ass (current position)

7) Peeps I want to know more about:
My Pal B, Aunt Becky, Dory, and Baby Bound (and anyone else who has tagged me) :D

--The Milk Maid says here be some maternity clothes!

Spread Thin Like That Last Dab Of Mayo In Your Jar

2008-06-05T14:30:00.003-04:00

Repeat after me:

ONE MORE WEEK OF ~~STUPID FREAKIN'~~ SCHOOL!

And can we all hear the echo as I should those glorious words from the roof tops? Oh yeah, I think we can!

A&P, you can suck my nonexistent weener. I loathe you and your workbook from hell. How I flinch every single time the teacher mispronounces a word (and not even words like hydrophilic or plasmapheresis- a word like murmur or value or respiration... or wasn't). How I dread Dumb Kate hanging all over me like kudzu clings to pine trees. Ohhh the list could go on, you know.

On an up note, I got my assignment for clinicals- and it's the exact place I wanted to be at- the majorly major totally tubular fun-filled jolly hospital place (she said trying to keep the excitement flowing about all of this).

On the Big J front: A former boss and close pal of Big J's called the other night looking "desperately" for Jef. He continued by saying, "I must have you work for me. I must! I cannot fathom the depths I would sink to if you were to not lay all other business aside and RUN to me and work here! And you look dashing in that new polo your wife bought for you- stunning!"

(Editors note: The above referenced side of conversation may or may not have taken place verbatim as the author of this blog could only hear what Jef was saying, but in the author's mind that's how it all went down.)

So- Jef had the "interview" today which probably consisted of drinking beer and eating hot wings and looking at the breasts of young women who are forced to wear panty hose due to the shortness of their shorts. And- of course- Jef was offered the job, which he plans on taking as soon as the paper work stating salary and blahblahblah is in hand. Looks like we wont have to live in any cheap hotels in the foreseeable future.

So- It looks like things are getting back to *cough*hack*gag*hatethisword* NORMAL around these parts.

--The Milk Maid says normal is for sissies. Or maybe brudders. Perhaps an aunt or uncle.

Hot-Hot-Hot Friday Mish-Mash

2008-05-30T17:43:00.006-04:00

As we age, strange things happen to our bodies. As we have children, the oddities grow by leaps and bounds. Strange hairs suddenly appear on areas that were formerly bare, acne improves or worsens- depending on your skin type, and the occasional hot flash may begin to creep up on you like a four year old with a garden hose leaving you soaked from your head to the creases behind your knees.

I've been privy to all of the above (and more, trust me- so much more), but the worst part of it all has to be the hot flashes. Take one part post-pregnancy hormones, add in a heaping cup of breastfeeding for 19 months (oh sure you stop bf-ing thinking you'll be free of all that jazz but NOooOooo), shake that around with an 86 degree day with 99% humidity and what do ya get?

A little something like this:

"Turn off the A/C!! It's a little cold in here woman!"

--The Milk Maid says what's YOUR caption for Ava?

maybe she can warm up on this exercise equipment! we can hook Ava up to a tread mill and power the whole house... like a hampster in a wheel, round and round she'll go. neighbors will come from miles around to see her, bring her an energy bar, and beg to lease her out for themselves. "PLEEEZE they will beg- let me borrow that kiddo for my house. i need four jobs just to pay the electric bill. pooey and poo poo poo!"

Still Here

2008-05-29T15:18:00.002-04:00

Hi Gang!

Don't put my face on a milk carton just yet- I'm still out here... Thanks to everyone who's checked in on me! It means more than you can imagine!!

We went on a quickie vacation last week to Daytona Beach and St. Augustine- I promise to post pics soon! Everyone had a ball- Faith is as brown as a ginger cake, Ava loved the ocean and the pool, Jef and I ate like pigs.

Tammy- I owe you a post where you tagged me- I haven't forgotten!

I've been pretty busy with school... A&P is taking up most of my spare time- always more workbook to complete and two tests a week to study for and take. Intro to venipuncture continues to go well as the teacher is giving us more and more free reign to draw blood without her playing "mama" to us. We should be getting our clinical sites lined up soon. That part makes me nervous, but I'm sure I will enjoy it.

Emotionally I've been feeling a little raw and drained as of late. There just seems to be something in the air (for lack of a better phrase) zapping my reserves these days. Jef packed the meds and stuff for vacation and forgot my Happy Pills and the pharmacy gave us crap over getting a couple pills to get me thru vacation. I was fine until we were leaving Daytona and then I got really weepy. I wondered if it would be the last time I ever got to see my favorite place (other than home), I wondered that even if I got to see it all again would it be through jaded eyes, and I worried about a lot of things that I have no control over that I normally would not be worrying about had I been taking my lexa.pro. When I got back home I immediately started back onto my dose which gave me headaches, messed up my sleeping habits, and has kept me nauseated. It feels like I'm doomed to be damned either way some days.

Well enough grumbling- someone might be inspired to tell me to get over it if I keep that up.

--The Milk Maid says who better for a milk carton than the milk maid?!

silk flowers

The Amazing Velcro Toddler

2008-05-20T13:06:00.002-04:00

Jef has learned, in a rather tongue and cheek style, that Ava is a needy little thang.

Jef has come to understand why I would shove Ava at him at the end of a long day and run and hide by myself for a good 15 minutes before reemerging into the "real" world of Doradoradora and bitebite and UUUrrrghhHHppphhagHHhh!

Jef understands how hard it is to go potty by himself. He's learned how to "cut it off" in the middle of doin the ol bidnez at Ava's command, just to end up being shown a toy or have an endless stream of jabber tossed in his direction.

The realization of not being able to get anything done, which admittedly Jef already knew about, was ingrained deeper into his soul as he tried to doo laundry and clean the kitchen and all the other "simple" chores that need to be done.

Jef has learned how hard it is to be a mom. How hard it is to hold it all together and keep everything running and juggle the responsibility.

And by golly, he's loving every single minute!

--The Milk Maid says her job security is looking shaky and she might start shilling for this acne treatment stuff at any moment.

Slacker Mom Diaries, Part One

2008-05-17T18:03:00.003-04:00

This week has kind of gone by like a dream.

I awake an hour past my regular time to scrambled eggs, bacon, and a fresh cup of coffee on Monday. This is after Jef had chauffeured Faith to school and Ava tagging along for the ride after a homemade breakfast (made by my devilishly sweet hubby who is bound and determined to win the Mom Of The Year Award).

I was off from my morning classes Tuesday and Wednesday morning, I hit the chiropractor a few days- Monday and Thursday?-, I had a massage AND went out with a friend from school one night (I drank a lot and can't remember diddly other than riding in her convertible singing something about apple bottom jeans and the boots with the fur, the fur).

Jef will be home again this coming week, Faith is out of school on Friday (where the heck has the year gone?!), and life is swinging by at a fast clip- All is well.

I forgot to Friday Mish-Mash for the first time since Thanksgiving, but I don't think anyone missed me too much (*wink*).

Ava went to a bouncie-jumpie-blow up thingie party today. The little birthday girl, Bianca, is the daughter of one of my dad's pals. She was literally half the size of Ava, as were most of the other children. The only child that came close to Ava's size was a 3 year old. Ava was fearless, as usual. Ava climbed the 20 foot (almost vertical) slide all by herself and went like a wild banshee. Everyone was amazed that she wasn't quite 20 months old and was climbing and running and talking like such a big girl. I had so many parents come and chat with me- they've never seen a kid quite like Avie Gravie. I told them they broke the mold on that one- the world can only take so much. She's my little Fearless Freep!

Tune in (sometime) for more Slacker Mom Diaries...

--The Milk Maid says cheers and beers, no fears!

lax a dab on this outdoor furniture

4 Things

2008-05-13T14:10:00.005-04:00

Thanks to Kat at Baby Bound for Tagging me up:

4 things I did 10 years ago: (1998)
1. I had Faith in February of '98.
2. I had my gall bladder removed in June of '98 (4 months to the day after I had Faith).
3. I contemplated daily why in the hell I ever married the Cowboy. I pondered that a few more years before finding the answer to be "I'm a complete idiot!"
4. I began my on and off stint as a SAHM.

4 things I did 5 years ago: (2003)
1. I turned 24.
2. I'd been married to Jef for a little over a year.
3. We decided we wanted a baby and started the hoop-jumping for that. Little flying poodles were we!
4. I was working as a loan originatior at a shit-hole mortgage company until I quit one morning and got hired to work as a temp for a cable company the very next day! That was totally not planned, but it was a cool job.

4 things I did yesterday:
1. Went to A&P class and resisted the urge to hurl myself out the window
2. Went to venipuncture class, took a test (made an 84 and I am happy with that!) and drew blood again. I LOVE doing draws! I'm so freakin' happy. My only regret is not doing this sooner. We are starting to look at sights for clinicals and get info for our National Certification exam.
3. Yakked it up with my pal B on the phone
4. Enjoyed a nice dinner my Big J cooked!

4 shows I love to watch:
1. Scrubs
2. Mike Rowe's Dirty Jobs
3. Deadliest Catch (aka The Crab Show)- LOVE that show!
4. Any kind of forensic type show like North Mission Road or Forensic Files or Dr. G Medical Examiner (did I ever mention my morbid fascination with autopsies?)
5. (Bonus shot!) MOONLIGHT - the show with the vampire P.I.!!

--The Milk Maid tags Tracey at Baby Steps, The Mother Hen, Aunt Becky at Mommy Wants Vodka and Dory and anyone else looking for birthday invitations!

Mother's Day Special

2008-05-11T14:20:00.005-04:00

Dory asked the following questions (for us all to answer if anyone else would like to jump on the wagon) about Mothers and Mother's Day.

This is probably the most difficult post I've written. My mother and I have always had a rocky relationship at best. Despite all of our hard times together, I'm going to make an honest attempt at paying tribute to my mom.

What is unique... special... important... about your relationship with your mother?
*I find it unique that after 29 years of being her daughter, my mother still does not get my warped sense of humor. Let's face it, I reek of sarcasm 99% of the time. I can quip out a response to her and like clockwork the look I get it reminiscent of a puzzled pup. Even when I tell her that I am joking or being sarcastic it still doesn't sink all the way in. It's amazing that someone so strait laced was blessed with a daughter like me (the smart ass).

When I was a little girl, I really wish my mother had....
Not tried to buy my love with material possessions. It's a common theme among my parents to lavish those they love with gifts, and as much as I loved getting a stuffed animal or a book at the mall when I was a kid, I'd have taken a picnic under a tree or an afternoon of giggling any day of the week.

When I was a little girl, my mother never...
Let me have a hamster. Or keep snakes in my room. Or let me have a sword. She never believed I saw ghosts in my room or that a lion slept in my closet. Did I mention she never let me have a hamster?

When I was a little girl, my mother always...
Had a nervous breakdown when I got near anything dirty. I would be scrubbed thoroughly twice a day or more. I would patiently reply, as her head spun around and around, that "it would wash". She never believed me. She still doesn't.

The one thing I need to say to my mother is...
Even though we'd had our differences, I still love my mom. My parents had a daughter who died two weeks after bring born, then waited for 5 more years before I was available for adoption. I have seen the pain of others who want a child so badly, and I know that I was a wanted child- even if my birth mother couldn't keep me. My mom always resented me a little- I was the apple of my father's eye, I wasn't the perfect blond haired prissy girl she'd always wanted, and ultimately I wasn't "hers". I was a tom boy, I was (and still am) independent and set in my ways. When it all comes down to it though, there is nothing I wouldn't do for my mom.

At my grandmother's funeral (which was 4 days after my grandfather's funeral- when it rains it pours huh?) my cousins J&J were picking on my mom. They'd gotten to arguing over who would take what plant. The smaller J of J&J started to get mouthy with my mom. In the chapel of a church. My mom was almost in tears when I walked over... I told J (who is all of 5'1) to back off. She smarted back, "What are YOU going to do about it?".

I am 5'8 in my bare feet. I was wearing 3 inch heels that day. That was way back in my softball playing days, aka The Brick Shit House Years.

I hovered over J, bent down to meet her eye to eye, and growled:

"I'm half your age and twice your size. You leave my mother alone or I'll kick your ass!"

It all boils down to me being the only one who can pick on my mom ya know...

--The Milk Maid says I'm way more than twice J's size now. And I can still kick her ass!

lighting

Dis, Dat, And De Other

2008-05-10T20:06:00.003-04:00

Just to clarify from yesterday's Haiku post, Jef won't be home permanently. Well unless we win the lotto, discover a legit work from home scheme, or inherit loads of cash from a random relative.

The back story to Jef quitting his job is this: They were going to replace him. The person (or people) who were to be replacing Jef had put in their notice at The Other Dealership (TOD) last week. The existing parts manager at TOD approved a much higher pay plan for the person(s) and they agreed to stay at TOD. Jef heard all this news last Monday, and knew his time was short. The Big Boss said Ix Nay to the pay plan, so the move for the person(s) was back on.

To interject briefly, the parts manager job at a car dealership is like musical chairs. You play the game til the music stops, grab a sturdy seat where you can find one, or fall on your ass. With the knowledge that Jef had of what was to come, we made the decisions we felt were most beneficial for us and kept on chuggin'.

Friday, Jef went into work knowing that he wouldn't make it through the entire day. He had to work until the 9th or forgo his commission check (which they shorted him on nonetheless). Upon receiving his check he shook the hands of the parts guys who worked under him, said it'd been a pleasure, and hit the road to home. There was no manager on duty for him to report to, so it was one of those nanny-nanny-fuck-you moments where he got the last laugh. Teeheehee!

As far as what's next... well, we just don't know. There are a few cars he can work on doing paint and body work, there are some errands we can run for dad and his business, and we have some plans, but nothing is definite as to where we are headed. Honestly, it feels spectacular to not have a road map and a plan. We have savings that will guide us through for a long while as we decide where our family needs to be. Jef has 3 prospect jobs lined up at other dealerships in the area, but we aren't committing to anything right now.

This is the 3rd time in 6 years we have been in this situation, however this is the first time we knew it was coming and were well prepared. It's all a part of the biz, and hopefully this will be the last time we have to deal with this as Jef is looking to get the hell out of Dodge (er- Nissan).

So, everyone grab your Pith Helmets and a sharp machete- let's whack the weeds out of our way as we explore this uncharted territory...

--The Milk Maid says we ain't ruled out the lotto thing yet!

Haiku Friday Mish-Mash

2008-05-09T12:29:00.004-04:00

A new day brings change

To our warm humble abode

Jef left his job today.

Tired of being used

Tired of the lies and the stress

Yes- Liberation!

Been coming for weeks-

This shift and a change of pace.

Makes me smile it's here.

Time off will be used

For cleaning, travel, and fun-

A stay at home dad.

Life is a journey

Enjoy the good to survive-

We are family!

Create your own Haiku Friday at Play Groups Are No Place for Children-- Be sure to sign Mr. Linky!

--The Milk Maid says line dry only.

Blog, What Blog?

2008-05-06T17:08:00.003-04:00

Yeah, so sue me- I've been sparse. Let's pick up about 12 hours after I wrote my Lactation Cessation Post on Friday shall we?

Because my children have the ultimate goal in life to make me out to be a liar, Ava started on a nursing-freakin-frenzy Friday night. I was delighted until Saturday when she wouldn't get off my boob! My gawd child, it's been nearly a week- what is the deal? Did you suddenly remember you liked ninny-nectar? Were you feeling a little needy? What was that whole "nurse until I bring up a blood blister on your boober" thing about? Seriously kid, are you in or are you out?

Sunday we went to a local "German Themed Town" a little north of here. We ate wiener schnitzel and kraut and drank beer and then we went for fudge, chocolate, rock candy, a funnel cake, chocolate dipped strawberries, more fudge, divinity candy, and pecan logs. Then we went into a sugary coma and died. Right there next to the horse drawn carriage. Kablooey.

Yesterday I stuck my first REAL LIVE ARM attached to a REAL LIVE PERSON in phleb class! I poked my ditzy pal Kate on her right arm, hit the vein perfectly and then the dumbass moved.her.arm. And the needle pulled out. And she bled on the chair. Then I stuck her other arm, the teacher made her not move, and I did perfect. Cause I'm like that, ya know. In spurts at least.

Today Kate and our other pal Cindy went to Cindy's house and swam and sunbathed. Then they decided I should pierce their belly buttons. And I did, because I'm very accommodating and I happen to keep a rather large stash of pre-sterilized piercing needles on hand at all times (because god only knows what needs a hole poked in it, am I right or am I right?).

Anyways... Here I sit sunburned, relaxing from the day with my Big J who is home early thanks to a dentist appointment.

Tune in tomorrow for more shenanigans!

--The Milk Maid says poke me, poke me!

Lactation Cessation Mish-Mash

2008-05-02T12:53:00.004-04:00

It's official... Ava has weaned herself. I have a lot of mixed emotions about this, and I'm not even sure where to begin putting my feelings into words. I miss her snuggle time with me. I miss her enjoyment. I miss the comfort only I could provide.

We made it to 19 months.

That's one year, seven months, a week, and a couple of days.

Approximately 600 days.

There were so many times I wanted to give up in the early days. There has been so much knowledge gained. There's just so much to write, but again the words just don't seem to want to flow forth onto the page.

--The Milk Maid says can I still be the Milk Maid?

While At The Diner I Ordered A Large Perpendicular Plate Of Ethmoid

2008-05-01T14:09:00.007-04:00

My A&P assignment this week is to cover all of "The Skeleton: Bones and Joints" chapter along with "The Muscular System". So, in one fantabulous week, I get to learn all the bones and all the muscles. I'm actually looking forward to the challenge of this! I enjoy my A&P class even though it is a pain to do all the book work (these two chapters alone make up 1/3 of the workbook). A lot of the exercises we have to do are repetitious and not conducive to my learning style, but whatever the teacher wants is what I do.

Ava's 18 month check up was today (we were a little late, as she is 19 months old). She was 35" tall, 28.8 lbs, and the doc said she looked absolutely perfect! As I was filling out a question and answer form in the exam room Ava learned how to open the door and run down the hall and through the building, squealing with delight the whole way, clad only in a diaper which she decided about half way down the hall to remove and sling back towards me. I wish I'd had a video camera!!! The whole place was rolling with laughter at my nekkid giggling escape artist.

Well gang, I'm back to the books for a while. If I'm lucky I can finish up another few pages of muscle study work and grab a bath before Ava wakes up and we are off and running again!

--The Milk Maid says where oh where oh where is Thumbkin?

Remember your mother this Mother's Day with a nice little gift basket!

Would The Chicken Shit Please Stand Up

2008-04-30T08:10:00.002-04:00

To Anonymous who wrote:

"Maybe spend more time counting your blessings rather than focusing on the negative so much and you might just 'get over it'."

I'm pretty sure I know where you came from, and you can sure as hell GO BACK.

I never fucking said I didn't COUNT MY BLESSINGS EVERY SINGLE DAY. That wasn't even the point of what was written.

Pardon me for having a bad day, and worrying about my future, and being put down by my very own parents.

Why don't you grow a pair, stop reading my blog if it offends you, and YOU get over it.

The Reason Why If I Win The Lotto You'll Never See My Face Again 'Round There Here Parts Again

2008-04-29T11:36:00.007-04:00

My father, who called as I was preparing to scarf down the only food I've eaten today, decided to take it upon himself to share with me one of the secrets of life. Because I am such a good friend and such a caring soul, I will share this little dab of How To Knowledge with all of you, my loyal comrades:

"You wouldn't be so stressed if you just get over it!"

Ok, everyone pick yourselves up off the ground and stop laughing. I know my father is the Grand Poobah of the Crazy People. Yes, yes- the village called and they are missing an idiot. The Insane Volcano is spewing molten WTF out of every fissure and crack.

"Dearest Father", she proclaimed. "Let me tell YOU the problem with your theory!"

First and foremost, just getting over it has not and will not ever solve a problem any bigger than say a hangnail or a misplaced sweater. When it comes to my life, which is currently full of things you cannot even fathom the depths of, I will deal with it in the only way I know how.

Between being a full time wife and mother, a part time student with a full time study schedule, a person who enjoys the occasional luxury like bathing and teeth brushing and speaking to real people- people who know more than the words bitebitebite or Pokemon Game, I have very little time to listen to your garbage ideas of how I should run my life.

Every time we speak you love to impress the idea upon me that "if you don't just get over all of this you will have a stroke". What is the all of this that I should be getting over?

Because if it's the part where I have 40 pages of study workbook due tomorrow for A&P, well getting over it won't get it done.

Is it the part where I'm unable to take my eyes off your granddaughter for even a second in fear she will find something just within her reach and pull it off a counter and cut her wrist, but only this time I won't be so lucky that a few stitches will cure her ill? Because if that's what I'm supposed to be getting over, well it isn't fucking going to happen.

Or maybe it's the thing where Jef is having all these health issues and if it comes down to where he needs a transplant "I shouldn't worry because it's not that big of a deal". Not a big deal, father? Perhaps to someone who has spent 46 years in a loveless marriage it wouldn't be a big deal. Perhaps to you it isn't a big deal. To me it's the only deal. Just in case you were confused, I love my husband more than I love myself. Between Jef and my children there is not a thing you could name I wouldn't do to keep them from harm or shield them from pain.

Maybe the thing I am supposed to get over is the constant nagging from you and mom. You know, where you both call me ten or twenty times a day and belittle and berate me for not having a house that fell out of the pages of Southern Living. Or perhaps today is the day you yell at me for not jacking up the front end of the Honda, taking the wheel off, and replacing the hubcap all by myself (oh well, I guess Ava could help me here). Or is today the day where you remind me of all my other short comings, and that I could stand to loose a lot of weight because I've porked up? I get so confused because there is SO MUCH SHIT that you constantly throw my way I just can't remember it all. I guess you will cover me being forgetful in tomorrow's session.

--The Milk Maid passes go and collects $200.

Perhaps if your parents are nice and they need a little bling you could get them one of these luxury watches!

Gots The Monday Lurve!

2008-04-28T11:16:00.004-04:00

Mother's day is fast approaching... Is this mother's ring right for your mom?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I'm having a a great Monday gang! No reason in particular for all my happy-vibes, I guess this is just what the world looks like without the haze of depression.

Jef and I had a lovely weekend- He worked Saturday, but we managed a lot of together time, some great music and a little drink on Saturday night, and a whole day spent together relaxing and having some fun on Sunday.

Ava has a new love for lotion (wo-chin). If she sees any wo-chin around the house, she starts jumping up and down. I will put a little drop in her hands and she rubs them together or will yank her shirt up and slather up the old belly.

Faith got a mini-fridge for her room, complements of my dad. Faith is notorious for leaving cups and food in her room, so I implemented a system where she has to "check out" anything that is going into her fridge. Two drink packs up should equal two pieces of trash back down... I hope my system works. But of course if it doesn't then I guess I will have a little fridge just for me!

School continues to go well- I'm loving the scrubs, I mean how freakin great is it to not have to tuck in a shirt AND have an adjustable waist band. I should have thought that out better many moons ago and saved me a lot of uncomfortable trouble.

Ok, so here's my "thought for the day"... I'm looking for your opinions here gang, so tell me what you think:

I have the Summer quarter of school left after this quarter and I am trying to decide where to "go" post graduation. Originally, I had been thinking of returning to school to get my LPN. I've had a few discussions with people who have pointed out the obvious fact that I would make about as much as an LPN (with 2 years of school) as I would as a phlebotomist (with 9 months of school). I'd also have more responsibility as an LPN. So, considering the other courses that are offered, where I want to be a few years from now, and the salary aspect of it all I have narrowed down my future schooling options to the following fields of study: Radiology Tech, U/S Tech, Lab Tech, or Surgery Tech.

Thoughts anyone? Personal Experiences? Of course I want to fit in having a kid somewhere in all this grand scheme, so that's another piece of the puzzle to work into the master plan.

--The Milk Maid says burnin' it at both ends my peeps!

Friday Mish-Mash, She's Come Undone

2008-04-25T10:35:00.006-04:00

Faith came down the steps from her room in a huff.

"The shoes don't fit my feeeeeet!" she wailed as she flopped her extremities like a breathless bass on a dock.

I informed her that those were the only pair of shoes here that fit her, and that she had let ~~the insane person who lives next door~~ my mother confiscate her clogs (mother feels that clogs are evil, yet she has bought Faith 3 pair of them in the past 6 months). I asked Faith to "wear the shoes to school for 30 minutes- only 30 minutes!". I promised to bring her a different pair once my mother had gotten out of bed. Seeing as how I am one to let sleeping parents lie, I wasn't about to blast her out of bed at 7:15am.

Faith looked at me like I had asked her to gnaw her own arm off, place the severed limb in her teeth, and then dance in circles singing Polly Waddle Doodle All The Day.

Having been through many a morning crisis, I knew that tears were imminent. The feeling of a 10 year old girl having a morning melt down is akin to a tornado brewing and the smell of ozone rising in the air. Wait for it... Wait for it...

"I (sobsobsob) kuuu-haaant (sobsobsob) POSSIBLY (wail whine sobsobsob) wear (sob) these shooooooooooze (high pitched keen).... (sobsobsob) they are (huffandpuff) touching my FEET!!!"

I looked at my hands to see if my eyeballs had fallen out of my skull. They hadn't. I waited for my head to explode like a rocket off of my shoulders. It didn't. I looked at Faith like she was the most irrational human being on the face of the planet. She was.

I calmly called and woke my mother up and got Faith a pair of shoes- that didn't touch her feet!- to wear for the day. Faith snubbed all the way to school (that's when you are crying and you keep sucking in air trying to stop crying but you cant so your suck in air and try to stop crying but you cant so you...).

--The Milk Maid says the shoooooze are touching my feeeeeeeeeeet!

(Maybe I can make a movie of this and pass out Blockbuster coupons to all my peeps!)

Fluffin' Stuffs

2008-04-24T16:12:00.004-04:00

Zeus decided to de-fluff his new toy a couple nights ago...

And apparently the urge to de-fluff is rather catching!

Scene from the Great Pillow De-Fluff 2008, Faith's room

I can't be too mad at Faith for that since she brought home an all A's progress report! This was her 1st all A's progress report or report card ever. Her guided reading grade has come up from a 74 to an 89 to now a 100 average. The only grade that dropped at all was math, and it was from a 96 to a 95... and there is no way I can complain about that. I'm totally impressed with my Faithie-Poo!!

I took Faith on a little Tar.get shopping adventure this afternoon and got her some more ~~evil stupid expensive worthless~~ Pokemon cards and collectibles. What ever it takes to keep her motivated, right?

Ava gets her stitches out tomorrow. We don't have an appointment, but I think (?) we are just supposed to show up. If I'm mistaken, I will let her just gnaw the sutures out like she's already been trying to do any way (insert face full of exasperation here). Here's a pic of her arm for all the curious onlookers:

I'll leave you today with the mental image of what I see in front of me:

A toddler pulling her shoes off, bending over to the floor to grab a toe and putting it in her mouth, and the sounds of slurp slurp slurp as she contentedly licks the salty toe-sweat away!

--The Milk Maid says chew me up and spit me out!

My First Blood

2008-04-23T16:27:00.005-04:00

Everyone grab a seat and hear the tale of how the Milk Maid drew first blood!

Well, ok so technically it wasn't really blood (it was water with red coloring) and technically it was from an arm, although it was just a fake arm. But the needles were real! And the alcohol swabs. And the gauze too! Yeah, don't forget the gauze!

Here a pictures of my first draws:

And here's a little photo of yours truly, all dressed up in scrubs like her hospital heroes on the television show Scrubs (although today I was more of a Doug than a JD or Dr. Cox- if you watch the show you understand completely).

I have to admit, welding a needle is exciting. It's dangerous! It makes me feel alive!! However, those stupid fake arms are about 400 years old and it looks like Ray Charles had been using them for practice. Oh well- I'm sure I'll encounter real people with veins like that too.

It's been a rather exciting day- I'm feeling pretty good as of late. I'm feeling a little peppier in my steppier. Sure, there has been a lot of heartache for my peeps B&K, there has been a lot of other nasty things going on too- in real life and in bloggerville, but I'm moving through a little easier these days. My secret, you ask? A low dose of my pal "Vitamin L". My new doc was more than happy to re-up my past scrip for it, and after the nasty side-effect of not being able to sleep wore off I became a new person this past week. I even watched a show on kidney transplants yesterday and didn't even fight back the urge to vomit, not even once!

--The Milk Maid says that's life in a vacutainer my peeps!

magnifiers

Playing The Sidekick

2008-04-22T12:22:00.005-04:00

I arrived home from my A&P class this morning to find my father readying the playhouse to be moved to where the old shed used to be (which he got a wild hair to tear down last week). The playhouse was elevated about 5 feet off the ground. Dad called an over sized wrecker company, had them come back under the playhouse and use the flatbed of the truck to lift the playhouse. The supports needed to be cut, and this is where I (unknowingly) enter the comedy of errors.

"Here, cut through that 4"x4" post with this," dad said hading me a saw.

I jumped right into the cutting, of course. Any excuse to use a power tool, right?

We cut all four legs loose, the wrecker driver lifted the playhouse free and started to drive towards the concrete slab.

That's when the driver nearly took the side of the garage off with the playhouse porch. Then, once he backed and cleared that, he made it around and almost ran over my mom who was doing god only knows what wandering around in front of a huge truck. Anyway, the guy got to the slab and tilted the flatbed back towards the slab.

The playhouse was stuck.

So he shakes the flat bed. And nothing happens. So he shakes it harder. Still nothing. As the guy decides to tilt it farther and give it a solid bounce my father decides that exact moment would be the perfect time to walk behind the truck and see what was holding it on the truck.

Picture me, swooping in like a chubby Wonder Woman and pushing dad out of the way. Luckily, the playhouse didn't come off the truck completely and (obviously) I'm here to tell you the story.

I don't know who I worry about more- dad for walking behind the playhouse or me for jumping in to save the day.

--The Milk Maid says her thighs are too chubby for hot pants.

Today's comedy of errors was brought to you by the letters D-U-H, and this nice addiction treatment center!

Quiet Saturday

2008-04-19T17:20:00.002-04:00

Not a lot going on around here today...

I've studied, taken my A&P test (one of them) and did rather well- I made an 80. The average class score (via online classroom update) is a 61.3!

I started moving some toys of Ava's around, but she decided it was move fun to bring everything that I moved to her room back to the den, so that turned out to be counter productive.

Jef had to work until 4... I was glad it was only 4 as they have been messing with his hours as of late. He had been having to stay until 5:30. Ug- I'm glad they have changed that.

The highlight of my day was getting a shower and washing my hair and shaving my legs ALL at the same TIME! I even exfoliated-- how wonderful is that?

--The Milk Maid says peace out and enjoy the weekend!

car insurance online

The 'This IS My Happy Face' Friday Mish-Mash

2008-04-18T09:59:00.008-04:00

There have been so many let downs, so many heartbreaks and incidents, and so many hurt feelings in my little blogosphere this week. I had two choices this morning when it became blog-time: Write a sappy heart-felt blog or write something humorous. I vote that laughter is the best medicine, so here we go people- picking up where I left off Tuesday with Ava's adventure in stitches:

Ava is healing quite well from her slip-n-slide fiasco. Thanks for all the well wishes! On the doc's advice I have been keeping a little gauze roll bandage over the stitches since she wants to pull them out (ugg). The has only tried to gnaw thru the gauze twice so far, and we have managed to avoid putting one of those plastic collar thingies around her neck.

Wednesday, around our 5 o'clock snack time, Ava was following me to the kitchen for a pack of crackers and a drink. I make the turn at the counter to see Ava do her best "John Ritter, Three's Company" style pratfall. Seriously people, it was hilariously funny- her little feet just going like mad, her arms waving about! Unfortunately, she fell flat on her face and busted her lip open. She bled all over the floor, all over my new white shirt, all over the cat who came to try and figure out what the hell was happening. Ava isn't too worse for wear luckily.

Chip says hello by the way:

This morning is the only day I don't have school this week, so I used my free time to run a few errands like going to the dump, grabbing a few necessities at Tar.get and grabbing some dog food at the pet store. Ava has decided she will NOT ride in the buggy (that's a shopping cart for you Yanks) at the store. Try your best to picture me lugging a 29 pound Ava over one shoulder (kicking and screaming) and a 40 pound bag of dog food over the other shoulder (it held quite still luckily) as I tried to unlock the car via remote by only using my teeth.

--The Milk Maid says walrus gumbo and CAT5e!

Comfort For My Friends....

2008-04-17T13:44:00.001-04:00

Did My Day Get Easier??

2008-04-15T22:46:00.007-04:00

No, but thanks to all who asked!

After the previous fun Ava and I had, I had settled back into studying my A&P. I hear Ava in the kitchen (that I usually keep gated off) so I walk in to the kitchen and check on her... She's playing with a doll in the floor. About that time the phone rings so I walk into the den.

I am about 6 steps away from Ava when I hear a glass sliding on the counter. I immediately turn to see what she is grabbing and see the liquid from the glass tip as she drags the glass from the counter. I continue walking towards Ava. She slips as the liquid sloshes onto the floor, the glass drops onto the tile, breaking into shards.

Ava slips and falls.

Her right wrist lands onto a piece of the shattered glass (which remained intact on the drinking vessel itself). I grab her up and look for blood.

I see no blood.

I walk to our couch, a mere 15 steps away, and set Ava down. All the while I have the plan to call 911 if I see copious amounts of blood. After seeing nothing much, I grab a clean towel, put pressure on the cut and wait.

A million things run through my mind from paramedics to stitches to her bleeding out and dying in front of me.

After a couple minutes- at the very least- I remove my compress and look. No blood. Shallow?

I take a few moments to collect myself and let Ava sit with her wrist propped against the towel. I clean up the glass, continuously checking to see if she'd moved, bled, fainted, died.

She was fine- Laughing at the TV actually.

After about 10 more minutes I put her on the counter of the sink and put peroxide on her cut. I could see how jagged it was... it looked a little deeper than I first thought.

Fast forward between me calling B for reassurance, me calling my dad for butterfly bandages, me calling Jef so hopefully he would just know what the hell to do!!!! and I could go from there.

I decided at this point that there were two options: Put a maxi-pad on the wound and let it heal or wrap it with something thinner and be able to check if there was a lot of blood loss.

I opted for a paper towel folded in fourths and some medical tape to hold it in place. I'm glad I went for this option, even though there was no further bleeding to speak of, but it allowed me the confidence to untape the wound and look at it...

Deep people. I was looking for the words to tell B what I saw, and I can think now that maybe adipose fat was what I was thinking. If I'm wrong with my definition, someone please tell me- but that is the only med term word I could think of at the time...

A little fatty blobby yellowish thingie- which I knew was FAT of some sort- was hanging out of the cut. Dad got home soon after I had called B for a second time (because B is the guru of all medical knowledge or she at least knows who IS the guru). Dad brought home some butterfly bandaids, and as I cleaned Ava's arm with peroxide and the wound bubbled and as the little fat blobs seemed evermore prominent, I knew that I HAD TO TAKE Ava to the doctor.

Long story short, I took Ava to the quick care clinic. She got 5 (maybe 6, I lost count) stitches in her right wrist. I realized I was in the absolute RIGHT line of work, because even though I was concerned for my daughter I was also intrigued with the inner-workings of her wound, the cleaning and stitching, and the Q&A of the doc on call at the clinic.

I also realized how lucky we had gotten... the little blue vein that would have caused a "major emergency" (per clinic doc) was only centimeters, nay millimeters, away. I only realized the depth, literally and figuratively, of Ava's wound once the doc pulled it open to examine and flush.

It was probably a 1/2 inch deep.

I felt like such a shitty mom. I still do. But things happen, right?

It doesn't make it any easier for me.

And, you ask, how is Miss Ava?

She's playing and laughing like nothing ever happened. She's happy as a lark.

She only got mad when the doc and 4 nurses held her down and made her be still (Well, she would call that PISSED in Ava-land).

Until 11pm she played, despite the meds to make her sleepy.

--The Milk Maid says she's glad Ava was a girl and not a boy, cause dude- can you imagine?!
budgeting software

One Of Those Stories The Milk Maid Is Sorta Famous For...

2008-04-15T16:06:00.006-04:00

After getting Ava to sleep and then working on my A&P study guide for hours, I developed a headache and a case of the yawns. As soon as Ava awoke from her nap I tossed my books down and loaded up the family truckster and headed to get a caffeinated beverage from the convenience store.

I chose a 16oz R.ed Bull and grabbed Ava a small juice-type beverage with one of those pull-to-slurp tops. She drank about half of her drink while we went to the bank and ran a couple errands. We arrived back home, and of course I went to check the photos that B had sent from her recent Relay for Life walk. That's about the time the following chain of events happened:

Ava came through the house and wanted a "bitebitebite" and was carrying a tin of mixed nuts. I told her to take one, so in toddler speak that translates to take one hand full. I know that she will eat the small hand full of nuts one at a time, so I let her sit beside me and nibble while I read a blog or two. She gets up and wanders into the den (just out of sight). I hear papers shuffling and realize that it might be Ava in my school books and work, so I jump up and look.

Ava had taken the remaining juice-type beverage and poured it on my workbook that I will need to turn in to the teacher tomorrow. I grab the book, dripping blue liquid all over the couch, and run for my bathroom. I calmly grab the blow dryer, turn it on, and start to dry the book.

I look left and Ava is trying to get into my shower. I say no, no Ava! about the time she sits in the wet shower floor. I say get up! and she does while simultaneously grabbing a MOLDY SPONGE and putting it in her mouth. I scream NO AVA NO NO!! and she drops the sponge along with a mouth full of half-chewed nuts onto the rug. I run to move the MOLDY SPONGE and pick up the nuts as Ava opens the toilet lid and tries to stick her head into the bowl.

So there I am holding a wet book, a blowing hair dryer, kicking a MOLDY SPONGE while temporarily forgetting about the half-chewed nuts that I of course manage to step in while keeping Ava swirlie-head free by closing the toilet lid with my elbow.

Ava exits the bathroom stage right and I finish drying the book (which wasn't too worse for wear, actually). As I leave the bathroom I discover Ava using both hands to rub her tongue. Revenge of the MOLDY SPONGE?? No, Ava had managed to spend the 23 seconds I remained in the bathroom after she'd ran off to scale her 5 foot tall cabinet and grab (and drink some of) a bottle of milk from, well- maybe this morning? Maybe last night?

The kicker of the story is, that when I took the milk away from Ava she screamed and cried and was mad at me.

A&P Really Means Annoying and Pissy

2008-04-15T13:12:00.003-04:00

I have had my head in a text book for the vast majority of the past 4 hours reading and studying and doing practice exercises and homework for A&P. If anyone comes up to me on the street today and asks me a question about amino acids or ionic and covalent bonds I will answer them, then punch them dead in the face.

I have 3 tests this week- 2 in A&P and 1 in Intro to Venipuncture (or as classmate C calls it "Venus Puncture"). The Intro to V test should be pretty simple and ask basic questions about things like HIPPA and needle sticks. The teacher (who I swear missed her calling to be a comedian) said the answers are pretty much going to be "don't say anything about anyone" and "don't get poked with a needle (you dummy!)".

I made a doctor's appointment today for my needed immunizations. I have to get a "mini-physical" since our insurance recently changed our PCP. I am SO looking forward to my grand and glorious mini-physical- I could just vomit right now I am SO thrilled. If you have been around the Milk-Induced Coma for more than a couple days, then you know how much I love doctors. Love, love, love- oh I am SO full of love (If I keep this snark up much longer I might be forced to use the best wrinkle cream ever to hide the furrows in my brow).

:::Maniacal look appears in Milk Maid's eyes. She grabs a pencil and threatens to stab herself in the jugular for effect:::

--The Milk Maid would never jab herself with a pencil... not on purpose anyway.