Saturday, September 25, 2010

A Post About Nothing.

Hubs and the boys went camping
and so it is just me and Olivia.
 Only she went to bed a couple
of hours ago, so really I'm
all alone until Mega Roo
gets home from the
football game.

The house is seriously quiet.
Almost deafening.  When
the boys are here it's constant
commotion.  They're always
wrestling, running, or jumping.
They seriously cannot be anywhere
near each other without touching
in some way.   Usually its through a love
punch.  *sigh*

It must be a boy thing cause I notice
with their friends too. 

Tonight, before they left I tried to get
Josh to stay home with me, but he was not
to be bribed.  He must have thought I
was serious though, because he made a
beeline to the van, almost tripping in the

As they drove away, I said a little
prayer that they'd be safe.  I can't help
it. I'm a worrier, and I know Hubs.  He
lets them do things that I would
quickly put a stop to.

I just heard the door close.  Meghan is home
from the game.  With my chicks safely gathered
in, or at least part of them, I think I'll call it a night.

Sweet dreams.
Blog ya later, Missy

Thursday, September 23, 2010

It's a mom thing.

The other day Momma J and I had a bonding moment.
I was sitting on the steps thinking about what to fix for dinner.
Momma J was taking a bath.

And thats when it happened.
Just like its happened to me hundreds of times before.

As Momma J was taking a bath, Socks decides
it is time to eat, and he can't wait until
Momma J is finished.

So there she is.  Leg hiked, mid bath, and a kid
demanding to be fed.  So she stops what shes doing
and feeds him, but not without
giving him a quick clean up first.

Cause that's what Moms do.

I tell ya.  Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever be
able to go into the bathroom alone.  If I
get anywhere near the bathroom
kids are drawn to me like moths to a light.

CrAzY I know.

When the kids were really young
they'd slide notes under the door, or
stick their little hands, and fingers under it,
or they'd do my personal favorite
try to look under the door. They'd
usually say something like "Are you
taking a baf?  Can I take one wif you?"

That is, if I got the door locked.  If not
they'd come barging in.  Pull the
shower curtain open and sometimes
climb right on in clothes and all!

They're older now.  I no longer get
notes under the door, and they don't always
come in, but they almost always
bang at the door and want to know
when I'm coming out.  NEVER!!
(Or at least until I hear someone
crying)  *Sigh*

Oddly enough I think I miss
those little notes, and the
chubby little fingers under
the door.

So, Momma J.  Here's to you.
You're doing a good job.
Only you need to tell the
kids to stay out of my flowers
and stop leaving dead rodents
on my steps!!!

Us moms, we gotta stick together.

Blog ya later, Missy

Monday, September 20, 2010

I Believe.

I have been a member of
The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints
since I was 15 years old. It was a decision
that I made all on my own. 

Since that time, Hubs and I have
married and together we
are raising our children in the
LDS faith. 

Last weekend was a very special
weekend for us, as well as for local members
of our church.

Last weekend was our Stake Conference.
We had a very, special Guest in attendance,
Elder Jeffrey R. Holland, of the Quorum of the
Twelve Apostles.

This was a big deal.  A very, big deal.
I only hope that I can accurately express
the feelings of love and joy that I felt
this weekend as we had the opportunity
to be instructed by an Apostle of the

For those reading this, who may not be
familiar with the LDS faith, one of the
differences between our faith and others
of the Christian world, is that we believe
in a latter day prophet- Thomas S. Monson,
who guides and directs the Church.  He
is assisted by the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles.
Elder Holland is one of those men.
They serve as witnesses of Christ.  Just
like the Apostles of old.  You can
click on the link above if you would
like to know more.

Saturday night he spoke to us about
being broken.  He said that at different
times we are all broken, whether it is through
the loss of someone we love, poor physical
health, or broken dreams; whatever, it may be
it is ok because the Savior loves broken things.

Elder Holland said that it is through His love and the
sacrifice of His life that we are made whole

He also said something that I will never forget.
He said, "When times are tough and bad
things happen, don't you ever say, "God
must not love me."  Don't you ever say that.
He sent his Son so that you
might live and His Son gave His life for you.
Don't you ever say it.  It is
sacreligious and blasphemous."

I felt a few pangs of guilt when he said that.

He went on to say that if we are
to be called His, we will go through
the refiner's fire.  Just like Peter, and
Paul, and Hyrum, and Joseph and
others whose lives stand as a testimony
to us of the Savior.

I believe the words that Elder Holland
spoke this weekend.  More importantly,
I believe in who Elder Holland is, that he
is an Apostle of the Lord, a  special witness
of Jesus Christ.

I felt the love of the Lord and my Heavenly
Father as I listened to their servent
this weekend. 

Becoming a member of the Mormon Church
was the best decision that I have ever
made.  It has changed my life through
experiences just like this.  Times
when I can feel feel the Holy Ghost
whispering to me to do better.  To try
harder.  That Heavenly Father loves
me and wants me to return to live
with him again.  Times when I can feel
myself growing.

I haven't always been so quick
to share experiences like this with
my nonmember friends and family.
I don't know why.  Fear I guess.

I'm weak like that. 

I couldn't resist sharing some
of the words, feelings, and moments
of this past weekend.

Thursday, September 9, 2010

Ghetto Queen has a Ghetto Bro

Warning:  Do not procede to read this
post if you :
a.) are involved in anyway with PETA.
b.) love animals and would never dream
     of using shock therapy as a training tool.
c.) if you're already bored and falling asleep.

In true ghetto style I celebrated Labor Day
with my ghetto siblings.  Just us and our
little (or not so little) families. 

We went to my brothers.  He grilled out.

After dinner, as is our typical style, we sat around
and talked about what's been going on in our lives.
'Cause that's what families do.
We made fun of lauged at cried uncrontrollaby at
shared some really. bad.  drivers license photos. 
Its ok.  I'll get over it.  No really.  I'm not hurt.

Once every one dried their tears, talk turned
to the animals.  Now, let me just start
by telling you that my brother runs
a zoo.  Seriously.  I tell him that all the
time.  Lots of dogs, chickens, cats, a
bird, lizard thing, pig, and you see what
I mean.

Anyway.  He must have been thinking
that things were getting a little loud with
the dogs because they were all sporting
shock collars. 

Yep. You read right.  Now, most
normal families would think nothing
of this.  But not the Ghetto's.

I had never seen the collars in use
so, naturally I asked for a demonstration.
Now, ghetto brother said that
he couldn't do such a thing.  Because
that would be ethically wrong. Or confuse
them. Or blah, blah, blah.

Thank goodness ghetto sister was there
because she found the remotes and
did a little demo for me.  Ok.  Let me
tell you- that was funny, and I dont
care who you are.  But then ghetto
brother took the remotes away and
ruined our good laugh. 

Now please don't think any less of me.
I like animals.  Dogs.  Cats. 
Well, not really cats.  Cause I'm allergic.

You remember those strays?
Well, they've takin up full residence
at my house.  They all have names
now.  Momma J (she's the mom),
Lonestar(Star), Pretty (cause she's pretty), Socks,
and Pumpkin.  They never did find
a nice Amish home.  I'm the
only one that takes care of them.
Everyday.  And everyday my
eyeballs swell.  (Not really.  Only
sometimes.  Like the night I tried to take them
all to the back porch to eat and I took a
shortcut through the house and Katie
discovered them.  Its not a good situation when your
about 10 steps from the  back door and the 3
cats your shuttling through the house decide
to bolt rather than suffer death by a 5 lb

My wounds are almost healed now.
The cat scratch fever is better too.

Anyway that's another post.  I'm much
too tired to keep going. Pray for me.  And
my little stray kitty family.  And my ghetto
brother's doggies and for my ghetto
sister who may never get over her
totally hilarious awesome drivers license

No animals were harmed in the
creating of this post.

Blog ya later, Missy

Friday, September 3, 2010

What Florence Nightingale Knew

I've been a nurse for 13 years.
During that time I've learned a few things.

1.  Nursing isn't for everyone.
2.  Some days it isn't for me.
3.  Nurses really do eat their young.
4.  Never ever pray for the night to go fast.
5.  Don't say, hint at, or even think of the name of
     your most annoying/difficult/rude/frequent flyer patient.
     You'll be seeing them before the shift is over.
6.  Don't put a needle into a needle-less IV set.
     Unless you want to start an a new IV.
7.  Drain the catheter bag and the tubing
     before removing it from your patient.
8.  A suture removal set will not remove surgery staples.
9.  If you're patient tells you that "they always draw
     blood/start IVs from my left arm" - LISTEN.
10.  History repeats itself.  Learn from it.
11.  There are some patients that you will never forget.
12.  Your patients will remember you long after you've
       forgotten the night you took care of them.
13.  Follow your gut.  Even when nothing is wrong.  at the time.
14.  If the bag of water is visible, a baby is not far
15.  Knock before you walk into a patients room.  I'm just sayin'.
16.  Shift change will come just as the rising/sitting
        of the Sun.
17.  Dread full moons and storms if its your night to work.
       If not, then enjoy it.
18.  Caller ID is a nurses best friend.
19.  Nurses can/will talk about anything while eating.
20.  I will never understand why my patients save their poop
       for me to see. 

Blog ya later, Missy
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