Gaga For Lulu

Why do some women like to pull each other down instead of lifting each other up? I am one of those people that tries to understand everyone, even if they offer the most extreme opinions and lifestyles from my own, I am open to their thoughts and ways. I may not agree and I may offer my 2 cents when it is not welcome occasionaly, but I do make an effort. I guess some women just don’t have that in them, that nice gene.

So I was at Poopy Paradise last night, the ol’ nightshift, 7PM till 7AM. The night was pretty good, I worked with nurses I don’t usually see on a regular basis. The weekend option crew, but good patients, some real sickies that kept me on my toes and made me use my noggin.

But come the shit on! What is up with bitchiness?

I felt like the biggest, ignorant, non competent, horrible mommy on earth. According to the rest of my fellow nurses, my mothering style must be jack shit. My kids know the words vagina and penis, and my kids know that a baby comes out the ol’ shoot, and they listen to music, and they watch television, and they see me naked, and the know what a four letter word sounds like, and they have seen me cry, and they have seen me rant and scream, but they have also seen me seen me love them to death for how ever long they have been here with us, and kiss them constantly, and tell them I love you all day long, and play with them, and read to them, and do anything and everything to make them as happy as possible. So does that make me a crappy ass mommy? Hmm, I don’t think so!

But according to the population of nurses I worked with last night, I am just too open, honest, and forthcoming with my kids. I am making them grow up too fast and allowing them to “know” too much! Yeah, guess what? My girls will be just fine. The Big Guy and I give love 24 hours a day and may not be perfect, but do the best we can. The only thing that matters to us on a consistent basis is the happiness, joy and health of our 3 girls.

So, when I think about it, I guess we are guilty of talking about our girls too much, and spending too much time with our family, and providing too many happy memories, and providing too many toys and books, and ultimately loving them way too much. How dare we do that to these little girls? The nerve of us.

Bottom line, ya’all who like to judge and piss on others parades, be gone! I don’t have time to defend my parenting styles and explain my house and how it runs, and I don’t have time to smile while you share your unwanted stupid ass opinions! I know, I am a little harsh, but the more I think about it, the more fired up I get, and I will not let that happen on this fine Sunday afternoon.

If everyone would be tolerant of others differences and appreciate what they have in their own lives, instead of making themselves better by pointing out differences, we would all be better off. I listen to pretty much anything anyone has to say, I may not agree, but they could offer something for me to take and put to use in my own life.

I am just as guilty of the next women of being opinionated, but I do try to understand differences and see where everyone may be coming from. After all, we are all different, are wired different, and have weathered differences in our lives, but we all want one common thing, what is best for our kids!

There are so many things floating around in my crazy ass head right now. I worked today in good ol’ poopy paradise and had a shitin’ good time. Good fellow health care professionals working alongside me and we even got free grub from Boston Market at lunchtime. We had an in-service and in order to get our hyper, OCD, goofy big asses to sit down, they have to offer free food.

I think it is safe to say that nurses have a distinct personality, at least for the most part. There are some boring biatches that I work with, but for the most part we all get along very well. Even our Greg Fockers are flippin’ funny and bring humor to the day.

Where else on earth can you be in shit up to your elbows, have shit smeared on the walls, blood splattered on your shoes, mucous in eye level suction containers 2 inches from your head, see 32 penis’ and 20 vagina’s, hell even say the word vagina out loud without a double take from anyone around, put a tube up those same body parts, put a tube up the nose into the belly, tie down a crazy ass confused person, get kicked and called a bitch, do CPR and push medicines to save a life and hold someones hand while they die all in the same day? Ahh, nursing. I love it!!

That is why I say the personality thing. You have to deal with some serious shit, laugh 50% of the time, be comfortable with being oushy and assertive and have empathy and sincerity. But you know what, we have a good time. Even among all the chaos of running around and being overworked and understaffed, we like what we do. It makes the time pass.

Hell, half way through the day we talked about sex, sagging body parts, lack of sex drive, depression medications and penis girth, yeah I said it, when we had a few minutes to kill. I bet a lot of you don’t conversate on those topics at work! LOL.

Oh boy, what a day. I was also reminded about the importance of family and quality of life. I helped a family decide to make thier family member a palliative, hospice patient. Why is it that doctors can’t say the word death but we can march right in the room, hold the family members hand and say, “Your mom is dying, lets do what she would want and make her comfortable. Give her that final gift”.

Anyway, the family was great and it just reminded me how much I love my family and how important it is to live one day at a time. If this isn’t the pot calling the kettle black, huh, but fortunately for me I have these very real situations to remind me of all this and help keep it “real”.

So yeah, now I am going to kiss my girls on their foreheads and whisper mommy loves you” in their sleeping ears and then go kiss and hug my hubby. I am going to tell The Big Guy how much I love him and that I think he is a great daddy, hubby and best friend. Cause guess what? We only get one time around and you better make it good!

I might even give him some good lovin’, wink, wink, if you know what I mean! LOL. Why does it always come back to the ol’ who-ha?

One final statement: In the words of Jim Halpert, “Bears beats battlestar gallatica”!!!!! Looooovvvvveee The Office!

So, it is 5 AM, I am trying to get motivated to get in shower. I don’t feel well. My nose has sufficiently ran all night, woke up with dried snot all over me and the pillow. How damn gross. My throat is on fire and chest feels like I am trying to breath sub arctic air. Oh joy, I have to go to frickin’ work at poopy paradise. Holy great pink mother of pearl, give me some strength. Please let my patients be good. Why, why oh why?

At least I won’t be able to smell the shit, phlegm and other bodily fluids that are coming my way today. Cheers!!!!

“You only work 1 day a week!” Do you know how sick I am of hearing this. Now, if any of my fellow poopy paradise mates are reading this, be assured this is not directed at you. My mates that read this are not the ones that say these words in a derogatory way. They are not the ones that make me want to scream in their faces, “Mind your own business biatch, I am busy”!!!

Yes it is true, I average one 12 hour shift, some weeks 2, at the ol’ hospital as an RN. But as most of my blogger friends can attest to, I do “work” while not at work. Let’s see: day care provider, mommy, professional blogger (thanks b5), wife, RN, and jack of all trades.

It is hard to categorize myself and fit in. I am not a work at home mom, but I am also not a full time working mommy. I am “just” a part timer in both directions. It is flippin’ hard sometimes. I can relate to both lifestyles, but am not allowed to express an opinion on both. Because if I do, I hear these damn words, “You only work 1 day a week”, or “You get to leave the kids at home and go to work, must be nice”.

It is nice. One of the reasons I love nursing is the flexibility. I can be a mommy most of the time, but still make good money and use my education in a capacity that I enjoy! Is it the best of both worlds? Hell yes!!! But as we all know, everyone has a frickin’ opinion and they don’t always keep it to themselves.

I give all the credit in the world to mommies that are at home 24-7, 365. God bless you all. It is something I could not do! Not because I don’t love my kids, but it just isn’t me. You rock. I could probably learn a lot from you work at home mom’s: patience, organization, unselfishness, as well as many more qualities that I wish I possessed.

For all the very busy full time working mom’s, you are awesome. You can bring home the bacon and fry it up in a pan! I could learn from you: time management, how to make the most of all time with your kids, and an appreciation for children that I sometimes lack after 12 hours of wiping butt’s.

Now, for all those mom’s like me that are just kinda squeezed in the middle, not sure were they fit, be proud! Yes we may not know what it is totally like on either side of the spectrum, but we do know that we love our kids to death as well as love what we do outside the home.

I just wish the ding dang snide comparisons and unneeded opinions would stop. Don’t all mommies want the same thing? We all love our kids more than anything and want what is best for them, however that is accomplished.

I offer a quote form a very wise man with many leather bound books and great hair. In the words of Ron Burgundy, “Let’s just agree to disagree”

A couple quick freakin’ questions before I head out on my next expedition:

1. Are spaghettio’s considered a real lunch?

2. How can The Babe draw a mural on the wall 3 feet from where I am sitting without me seeing her?

3. Why does the sound of M3’s voice sound like fingernails across a blackboard?

4. Why does the nurse at The Boss’s school call me at least once a week?

5. When will “together” time be HOT again?

6. Why do I hate bobble dolls, that was for you Big Guy?

7. Why does a government meeting for the The Big Guy last 3 hours discussing agenda and a meeting about resuscitation status and life support last 15 minutes?

Finally,

8. Do I even care what the answers are?

I can’t believe I am writing about this. It is somewhat embarrassing, but as you all know, I am as real as real gets! I had an appointment with my internist on Friday AM. He is this cute little guy, only a few years older than me, 3 kids, 5′4″ and about 150 lbs. I could pick him up and put him in my big ol’ 5′9″ pocket. But he is good for someone like me, yeah I said someone like me.

First strike, I’m a nurse. Second strike, I am outspoken, loud and opinionated. I know that is hard to believe, but I am telling the truth. LOL! Third strike, I have a BioPsychology degree and know all about mental health, medications that go along with it and therapeutic strategies. Why then can I not “fix” myself? Who the hell knows.

So Friday AM, rainy, tired from work the day before, 14 hours or so, stressed about what needed to be accomplished that day, and quite honestly just plain old worn down from this crazy life that has been mine for the last 2 and a 1/2 years. In I walk to the doctors office, Dr. Shorty Pants comes in and asks if his 7 year old daughter can come in for our visit, she was with daddy for the day, spring break. He has no clue what I am there for, I say ok, always wanting to make everyone happy.

Here we go, flood gates open and I am trying with all my force to keep all those freakin’ tears back. Thank the sweet lord he could see the angst on my face and asked his daughter to leave the room. I went through an entire box of kleenex’s, 2 glasses of water, and 40 minutes of my very kind doctors day. Why was I so upset? I..have..no..idea! I was there to discuss my anxiety issues, I feel like an elephant is on my chest some days, I swear I am going to stroke out one day. Anywho, I was questioning medication, or a partial lobotomy. The Big Guy will tell you the latter would work better.

After all this boo hooing and blubbering on, trying to shoot down every possible suggestion he had, I told you he was good for someone like me, I agreed to try Effexor XR. It is an SNRI, he thinks I have a serotonin issue, I think I have a damn brain issue! I started the ding dang medicine right away, gulped it down with a big ass diet coke, called The Big Guy to let him know I was officially crazy and now on this medicine, cried hysterically for another hour, had a root canal finished and 2cavities filled, apparently my teeth now suck too, and headed home to research the medicine. Please show me some reason not to take it. Nothing good, so I decided to be compliant.

Hip hip hooray, it works. Now, normally the medicine would take about 3 weeks to see a full difference, but since I was on a different medication already, I am really not all that freakin’ crazy, I will feel the effect quicker. Not to mention, prescription meds hit me hard!

Getting back to the present, oh hell yeah it works. I had 2 bowls of cereal spilled, 3 messes of juicy dog shit, 2 temper tantrums, could not find my keys, watched The Babe try to eat The Big Guy’s deodorant and stepped in a puddle of piss, who knows who it is from, with brand new socks on. Did I lose it? Did my chest explode and my eyeballs roll around in my head till I couldn’t see anything but red? Nope, I just cleaned the stuff up, checked if poison control was necessary, kept looking for the keys, and wore tennis shoes with no socks.

Is that an accomplishment, you ask? For someone LIKE me, damn skippy!!!!

Ah, poopy paradise was a hell of a good time once again. Even with my ding dang purple hair. We had a good line up for playing hard ball. It was one of those days where you would usually hold your pee for 4 hours. I say usually due to the fact that I had the poops all day and frequented the porcelain bowl, thanks Bug Guy.

The cottin’ pickin’ chief was running the joint, and what a fine job she did regardless of eyeing a certain doctor up in very inappropriate ways, she is a bad girl! Even during CPR, I would bet the farm that she could still toss her hair in his direction with a smile on her face. Trixie was in action. She always keeps it real by keeping Head Man Toucan Sam under control. That would be our illustrious leader. I swear when he sashays down the hall, all you see is a beak and white cape, ie. long jacket, following him. Beautiful site.

Thank the sweet lord that Suddenly Susan worked with me all day. What a group I had. 90 years old and wants to know where his sex pill is. The hell if I know, I thought that thing was dead by now. It was a hard one to turn down, “You wanna get up on my noodle and I will spin you around”? Dirty old man. Haha. I didn’t get to work with The Fashionista but she was there. And as always, she was looking fine! Even with scrubs, she had herself some bling around her neck. I yearn to be stylish like that.

There was RN Quinn The Medicine Women, Greg Focker, Mr. Chaps RN, The Ghost Whisperer, Mrs. Biatch, and finally The Newbie. Bad day for most of us. Bumble was there with her sarcastic wit which made for some laughs. There was a lot of shit, mucous, drainage and as always annoying ass families. Good God, why do they act like they are the only ones on the face of the earth. “Do you know how sick my daddy is, he has a heart condition?” “Well, yes I do, it is a hospital, he is on a cardiac floor and the mother fudrucker tried to bite, hit, kick and stab me with a straw, but hell yes I will jump at his every whim, Mrs. Realistic.” Now, I would never say that out loud, but are these flippin’ people out to lunch?

I propose a question, how can you put a catheter in, dress a foot, wipe shit from a butt, get a new cup of water, give a pain pill, rearrange a pillow and draw blood all at the same time? If anyone knows, please clue me in! Yeah, that patient was a treat. And by the way, I know preschool teaches please and thank you, but I am only to assume that it is a new lesson. LOL!

And my favorite thing is when you get asked questions that are so blatantly obvious you want to laugh, but you must act concerned and thoughtful. Now I know many of you can not relate directly to this, and probably think I am Nurse Ratchet, but sometimes it is all too frustrating and overwhelming. I do care for my patients, I treat them like I would expect my parents or grand parents to be taken care of. However, sometimes, “come on”! “If you do CPR will you break any ribs. If you shock her and do CPR on her chest, but don’t put a tube down her throat, will she breath,. When do you think she will die, like tonight or in the next week?” Are you kidding? I am not God, nor a fortune teller. I want to ask if this is inconveniencing them, or if they have some where to be.

You know, at the end it is scary and having someone to hold your hand, I can just suppose due to frequenting it, would be nice. We should all know what we want in that situation and make sure your family does. Finally, don’t ask us nurses questions you don’t want answered. We are more likely to tell you the truth. If you want smoke blown up your ass, find a doctor and ask them.

I will state a disclosure: It was not her fault!

With that being said, I have frickin’ violet hair. I am a natural redhead, pretty, not too orange. I usually get blond highlights in the summer and in the winter highlights and lowlights with a darker red. My skin gets so damn pasty it will burn your eyes if you look directly at it. My hair has gotten unusually light for being March, so I decided to have it touched up with some additional lowlights.

OMG, it turned flippin’ pink. I think Edward Scissorhand’s official comment was, “Oh shit, what the hell, I have never seen this happen before, your hair has pink streaks, where the blond used to be”. What did she just say? Pink. Oh shit, I have to go and work in poopy paradise tomorrow. She covered my whole head with some type of darker red to try to make it better, but it turned a lovely Barney shade of violet. And that is where it stayed.

I can see it now, “Hi, I’m your RN, I will take care of you today till 7:30 PM”. “The hell you will, you pink haired freak!” Oh yeah, its gonna be good. You know there are fluorescent lights too, better to see my ungodly hair with.

Eddie, Scissorhands that is, said she can do a lift or something on Friday, to strip the hair color and then dye it back to my original copper red hair. Why does this bull honky have to happen to me? The Big Guy could do all he could not to laugh. At least I didn’t have a breakdown over it. But oh, I hate it!!!

Here’s the deal, I have been up for almost 40 hours. I worked night-shift at the ol’ poopy paradise on Saturday night. I didn’t get a nap on Saturday afternoon because we took The Tribe to the circus. The Big Guy laughed and smiled like a child, very cute indeed! We blew about $150 there, not including the tickets. Are we suckers or what? The things we do for the little snot noses.

The Big Guy called me at work around 9 PM, he was moaning and carrying on, “I am so sick, I am throwing up and feel soooo bad. The girls are still up and everything hurts”. “And just what the shit do you want me to do about it, I am at work, I am sorry you feel bad.” I know, where’s the compassion? I used it all up on my really sick patients, sorry.

This means that I did not get to sleep today. The Big Guy was in bed most of the day, that bastard. Needless to say, I had no patience with The Tribe. Why can’t they understand how tired I was today? I guess that is part of the beauty of being a kid.

So here I am, Sunday night at 10 PM and I am having a big ol’ anxiety attack. I think I am having chest pains.

Does anyone remember the show Designing Women? You know the southern women with the interior design business and the man who drove their delivery truck, Anthony. Well, I am interviewing Ms. Delta Burke tomorrow about her diabetes.

I write a diabetic blog called Diabetes Notes for b5media. Yeah, thats right, this mommy nurse gets paid to write a blog. Take that Big Guy, LOL!!! Anyway, being a nurse and having type 2 diabetes, I actually enjoy researching this topic.

I know, what kind of sick flippin’ lady likes to read about disease? This one- I am pointing to thumbs at my chest with a big cheesy smile on my tired ass face.

I…am…in…a…pickle. Do I look over the stuff for tomorow’s interview and actually prepare ahead of time, or do I go the hell to sleep and just cram it in before the day gets going in the AM? Oh, what an earth shattering decision that has to be made! LOL.

OK, official decision has been made. I just dozed off typing this, so if it is totally whacked out, have a good laugh on me. Hells yeah, I am going to sleep. Nighty night mes amis!!!

So sorry it has been a while, but life can really get hairy sometimes. I tried to write yesterday a total of five times. Yeah, it was one of those days where I wondered who invaded my body and took over with crazy, irrational thoughts. I think I was totally flippin’ nuts yesterday.

Mrs. Nice Mommy was apparently sent on vacation and Mrs. Mean, Bitchy, No filter in the Mouth, Yelling, Maniac Women visited! Yup, that would still be me I am referring to.

I beg you not to judge my crazy ass, it is not everyday that I carry on like this!

The Boss woke up yesterday writhing about in pain on the floor, crying hysterically and moaning that her belly felt like it was going to explode. “I feel like I want to throw up, but can’t. It hurts behind my belly button and on my right side. It hurts soooooo bad mommy!”

As you know, I am a nurse so the immediate red flag went up. Ding, ding, ding, she has appendicitis. I honestly have only seen The Boss react like that one other time when her arm was dislocated. So, I did what any crazy, irrational parent would do. Against my better judgment, I rushed her to the doctors office. Oh hell, I became one of those parents that we make fun of at work, jumping the gun and going into crisis mode over nothing.

When we arrived at the doctors, The Boss decides she is going to read books and play with the puzzles. OK, maybe she is feeling a little better. I should have just gotten up and canceled the damn appointment and gone home, but remember I was irrational and nuts yesterday! We waited for our turn.

The doctor takes one look at The Boss, who is telling jokes and laughing by now, and gives her one simple command. “Jump up on the table.” She does. And with that, the doctor starts laughing at my parental judgment. “I know as a nurse you know that if she had appendicitis she would not be able to jump like that. I think she just has a belly virus. You might have over reacted this morning. With three kids, I would expect a little more conservation.”

Oh hell no! “Well, she was acting a bit different this morning and I just wanted to be sure there was nothing majorly wrong. I am so sorry if we wasted your time( did I just say that?).” Once again, whoever invaded my body stole the mouth filter that is usually in place.

I think I yelled at The Boss all the way home. Why did Mrs. Nice Mommy have to take a vacation yesterday when my oldest pookie bear didn’t feel well. At this point in the morning I tried to make a fresh start on the day. Yeah, that didn’t work!

I called the house cleaner, to officially fire her. The conversation turned into a twenty minute debate. What the shit? Why did she have to pick a fight? That filter thing in my mouth I was referring to earlier was officially gone for the day! Mrs. Crazy Pants, aka me, let her know what I though about her comments and that she was over priced, $110 dollars, and that I felt that she was unprofessional.

I didn’t just stop there. When she tried to comment about my kids bathroom, I lost it. “They are kids, little kids. I pay you $110 freakin’ dollars every 2 weeks. Your job is to clean. Clean with no comments. I am so sick of you sharing your opinion with me. I don’t care what you have to say, just come and clean. Why can’t you handle that?” Oh shit. I can not believe I went there.

If all that psychoness wasn’t enough, Mrs. Mean Mommy screamed all afternoon. Now, at times it was warranted. For the second day in a row The Babe and M3 played in the toilet. The babe emptied a whole box of kleenex’s in the toilet, yes I was within viewing distance. Wait, thats not it. M3 took a big ol’ poop right on top. So, guess what I had to do? Thats right, dig around poop to pull out the kleenex’s.

Needless to say, I was a maniac, screaming and yelling with irrational threats. “Sit in your room for the rest of the day with nothing, no tv, no books, no toys and no talking!” I ask you, what rational women would say such things? That damn crazy person who invaded my body was going to pay for this. Nanny McPhee , where the hell are you? LOL

Off to the library in late afternoon. See, I told you they were empty threats. I rewarded their horrible behavior with a trip to get books. That would be Mrs. Nice Mommy try to make an appearance. The Tribe was well behaved, No books were pulled down, no loud screaming, no fighting and no one asked us to leave. Success!

The Big Guy did go with us, maybe has a calming effect on The Tribe right now. He has been in this calm, understanding, happy mood for a week. What the hell? I guess this is why our marriage works, we balance each other out. When I am crazy, he is sane and the opposite.

By the way, there was a family at the library that smelled like they had eaten onions for dinner. Did The Tribe keep quiet on this one? Well, kind of. The Babe did say, “Somepin’ smells nastee. Go brush their teef”. She said it quietly enough that I was the only one that heard, and I almost peed a little from laughing so hard.

I think this was the turning point for Mrs. Nasty, Crazy Mommy. Miraculously, Mrs. Nice Mommy returned. I didn’t say my rational thoughts returned, just that I wasn’t going to become hoarse from screaming any more.

After the library we went to Target to get the kids a hot dog, so nutritious, and cleaning supplies. Ughhh! As we are pulling in the parking lot, who pulls behind us? The cleaning lady. You have got to be shittin’ me, I didn’t even know she lived in the area. I say to The Big Guy, “Can we wait in the car a few minutes”?

After much laughter he did say yes. I was convinced she saw us and was following us. “Is she going in yet?” I even contemplated just going home, but The Big Guy forced my rational self to return. Thank gosh!

We got out of the caravanarama and went in the store. To be honest, I was watching over my shoulder and looking feverishly back and forth for any sign of her. We loaded up the cart with cleaning supplies and of coarse my source of news, an In Touch magazine. Yup, that is one step below people magazine, but I don’t give a flying hoot!

Did the register really say $150? Holy shitballs! I was second guessing that whole cleaning lady thing. No, I will stay strong.

To top of the lovely night, I lost $250 in circus tickets, blamed The Big Guy a hundred times, and The Babe hung out in our room till 10:00. I heard the garage doors open at 10:30. It was the Big Guy rumaging through our nasty trash cans looking for the tickets.

I found the tickets this morning in the cravanarama. I had put them there on Friday afternoon. I did try to make right and call The Wonderful, Lovely, Handsome, Calm Big Guy to let him know it was me who misplaced them. I get Mrs. Nice Mommy And Wife points for that, right?