Life is like a box of chocolates

You never know what you are going to get.



The same could be said for inlaws.

The first time you look into the new box of chocolates, they all look so nice. They may be different colors, some a tad oddly shaped, but for the most part, they are shiny and appealing. Then, you take a taste.

Now, the head honcho chocolate, the one you married, he is usually your favourite. He is the caramel, gooey, sweet one. He is the one that you always choose first, then you are stuck with the whole box.

Now, the next one you try.........oh, it looks perfect......it is nice and shiny and tempting, you hold it close for a while, examining it, looking for something.........nothing, it is just so delicious looking, you jump in with both feet.............COCONUT!!!!!! BLECH!!! You have that icky texture and that taste in your mouth ICK!!! You had no idea that something so foul could come from the same box as that sweet caramel you are married to. Sadly, the coconuts do not all look a like, so you may encounter more than one.......and that bad taste never really leaves your mouth.

Next, you are a lot more wary....you take your time picking out one that looks appealing. You inspect it much more carefully, looking for outward signs that something icky might be lurking inside. You turn it over and over and over in your hand......it starts to melt a little, you lick your fingers.....so far so good. You poke at it a bit, trying to see if you can coax out a little filling, before you bite.....doesn't really work. You take a small nibble. Vanilla cream. Not vile, not icky, but kind of boring. You can live with boring once in a while, and it doesn't attack your senses at all. Not a bad choice.

This time, you go for something that is not as pretty a shape as the others. It looks lumpy and strange........but at the same time, intriguing. This one looks like it could be a lot of fun! You throw caution to the wind and take a big bite! RUM TRUFFLE!!! JACKPOT! This is almost as good as the caramel. This one always shakes up the box with that unexpected rush. It comes on strong, but it is okay, since there is enough sweetness to temper it. You definitely want this one around at all the get togethers.

Now, you are feeling like a pretty good judge of chocolates. You are thinking, "I know how to pick them". You figure you will not be fooled again. You take a dive into the box, and pick out something interesting. It has a nice smooth finish, looks absolutely perfect. It is a little irregularily shaped, but no problem, you got lucky with that last time. You pop the whole thing in your mouth expecting the absolute best surprise. You get it............you have encountered a nut. At first, it tastes mainly of chocolate, but as you chew, the sharp little pieces start to be uncomfortable, the taste is overwhelming, the texture unpleasant. It confuses and upsets you.....then you remember, every box of chocolates has at least one. Personally, I have seen whole boxes dedicated to the nuts..........in fact, I am pretty sure that is where I came from!

Getting in touch with your inner bitch

Apparently a lot of people are not only in touch with their inner bitch, they are communicating on a daily basis. She is not just an acquaintance who is invited to only the biggest of affairs, but is the best sister-friend to whom they are attached at the hip. They shop together, they work together, they go to their kids soccer games together. She seems to make an appearance EVERYWHERE!

My inner bitch didn't reveal herself until I was much older. Though my mother may claim that she was around a lot when I was a teenager. Because of that, she and I are not very close. She does show up when she is needed.....and this makes her an invaluable friend to have. When I am being threatened emotionally, she is usually right there to defend me. If I am being screwed over on a bill, she is right there to state my case. But for the most part, she stays quiet and out of sight. She USUALLY doesn't come to work with me, and I do not think my husband has ever met her.

My ex-husband, on the other hand, claims he was married to her.



So why do so many feel the need to have their inner bitches front and center all of the time? My guess is that they are feeling threatened or screwed all of the time. I know someone who never leaves her inner bitch at home. Sometimes you think to yourself, "Ah, the IB is finally taking a day off" when WHAMO, she shows herself in all her glory. Now, granted, there are times when she definitely less flamboyant than others, but she is always there, lurking, waiting for a moment to pounce.

I am thinking maybe I need to introduce my inner bitch to her inner bitch and see who wins. A battle of the century. Mine will win, she isn't near as war weary as hers.

I think maybe my IB may have written parts of this post.

Put on your Big Girl Panties and Deal with it!!!!

This is my new mantra. It basically says it all. Grow up, quit whining, stop feeling sorry for yourself....take control and take responsibility for your own life and your own actions.

Now, the first time I heard this saying, I about died laughing. It is amusing and fits so many different situations. But the more I think about it, the more it rings true.

Far too many "adults" in this world are so dependant on others to make them happy, take care of them, keep them out of trouble, etc. It totally drives me bananas. These people constantly blame others for their misfortunes or whine and cry and stomp their feet when things don't go their way. OY!!!!!!! Nothing more nauseating than to watch a grown woman throw a tantrum.

This leads to my other favourite mantra.....Suck it Up Princess! If your skin is so tender that it is bruised by the slightest of pebbles in your bed......you might as well lock yourself away. Trust me, life is FULL of pebbles, and rocks, and HONKIN' BOULDERS!! And though each of them may bruise you, you get tougher from each one. The Good Lord knows I have dealt with some real boulders in my life......but I am still here.......now, most of those boulders seem like little pebbles. And it seems that the little pebbles don't even bother to mess with me, since I can turn them to dust with just a look.

So, I have found my Big Girl Panties, and I wear them daily with pride.....and whatever comes my way, I can certainly deal with it.

DISCLAIMER: This post was not written about anyone in particular. It is a general observation about many people that I have encountered in my life. BUT, if as you read this, you thought I was talking about you......perhaps you should go shopping at Victoria Secret....... just a thought.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

So, March 17th.........a day to celebrate the Irish in us all..........why? There is no other day in the year where there is widespread celebration of a Nationality to which you don't belong. I mean, how many non-Scotsmen even know when Robbie Burns day is.........or who of us that is not Spanish celebrates Cinco de Mayo? There was no parade on Napoleon's Birthday.

So why is it we all embrace our inner Leprechaun and yell "Kiss me I'm Irish" while eating our mutton stew and drinking green beer? I suppose it is because it is FUN! It is fun to talk in a terrible Irish accent and make up Irish proverbs. It is fun to see just how much green a person can wear. Though, not one of my children dressed in anything green for school today.....they didn't have anything ....... though, my oldest son wore a T-shirt from the band Green Day..... I figure that counts.

So, even though I am not Irish (yes, I am Iris, but not Irish), I will color the beer green, maybe some gingerale for the kiddoes too.........will make a stew, but certainly not mutton, and we will celebrate tonight. I think I will make a green jello pie for dessert even. But please, I beg of you, on the next Robbie Burns day, January 25th..............wear a kilt, eat some haggus and do your own bad impression of the Scotsman.......

I PASSED!!

I know it has taken me some time to get back to this.......but I just had to write about my NRP course. The one I was previously so uptight about. Well, I passed......not only did I pass..... but I achieved 100% on the written part of the course. I was pretty impressed with myself. Especially since I have never taken this course before AND I had forgotten to study until about two days before. The hands on part of the course was pretty easy, really. I only wish the instructor had not cut the course time down in half and had given us more hands on practice through the day. Hopefully next time I have to take it, I will have more time.

Now, I have a few home study modules to complete and then I tackle the biggie.....ACLS or Advanced Cardiac Life Support. I shudder every time I think about it. It is a big course, with a LOT of studying and memorizing......something this 38½ year old brain has trouble doing. I feel sometimes like my brain only has room for so much information, and if I keep trying to add new stuff, some old stuff is going to fall out........and I won't remember my own name! As it is, I am having trouble remembering which one of my kids is which at times. Poor kids get called all kinds of names........not that kind, but you know, each other's names. I have even called Tuc Ginger a time or two.......that should be good for a couple years on some therapists couch.

The Good, The Bad and The Ugly

No, not the movie.........my life! Most of the time, things are good. I love my life and my family. But.........I get so stressed. My job is stressful.......and even though it is good paying, things have gotten out of hand and there isn't a lot of money.....that is stressful. I over extended myself and now my bills are killing me! I know I should be thankful I have bills, since if I didn't, it would mean I was homeless.......but I tend to forget that most of the time.

And now for the ugly part. I have courses upon courses to complete for my job.....none of which are going to get me an increase in pay......they only get me peace of mind in knowing what to do in case of emergency at work. This week, it is Neonatal Resuscitation. Nothing more stressful than attending a delivery where a baby needs to be resuscitated. And every time I read a chapter, it takes me back to when Tucker was born, and he needed to be resuscitated. Then spent 11 days in the NICU and 6 weeks on home oxygen. I can think of those days without crying.......as everything did work out in the end........but the stress that I had during that time was unbelievable. Thank God for my mother. She was here taking care of the other kids so that was one thing that WASN'T on my mind. I knew they were in good hands and being well cared for. I have courses in Advanced Cardiac Life Support, Palliative Care, Breastfeeding, Emergency Room Care and a few others I can't even remember. Ah, the joys of working in a rural setting where you are all things to all people. I once had a nursing instructor tell me I was a Jack of All Trades and Master of none........it was supposed to be a put down........but, she was right. I know a little bit about a lot of things......actually, I think I know a lot of things about a lot of things. If she could see me now, she would realize that being a Jack of All Trades is what makes a good nurse! And when you work in a team, and everyone knows a little something different.... it all works out in the end!

My first Random Thought

Well, maybe not my first, but the first I am publishing in my blog. I have heard much about blogging.......and well, didn't pay much attention. I have read certain ones, mostly from online friends.....and mostly specific ones about specific events.......mostly because I was pointed in their direction. I never thought I would bother.....or more so, that anyone would even care..... but....I have decided, I don't care if no one ever reads it or if no one even cares. These are my thoughts, as trivial as they may be, and I have the right to them.

Today, I was cleaning out my cupboards, trying to make some room for a new set of dishes I bought recently. All of my old dishes were chipped and pieces missing from dishwashing mishaps. I just wanted a new set. As I am cleaning them out, I keep feeling like it is so wasteful to just throw them away. Like I should do something with them. Then I am thinking....who would want a bunch of chipped dishes? I am so strange sometimes. I am a product of my mother, who grew up in the 30's and who never threw ANYTHING away.

Then came the mug cupboard. I have one whole section of a cupboard dedicated to coffee mugs. Most of them are special mugs that have been given to us as gifts and such over the years. I am having a hard time parting with them......as though if I get rid of them, I am getting rid of memories, or that I just don't care about the event or person who gave it to me. Isn't that just absurd?? How can a coffee mug hold so much meaning? The thing is, there are only a couple that I really like.......and certainly only one or two that I actually use......because they are big enough to hold half a pot of coffee at a time. So why do I feel the urge to keep them? I think I will take them to work and put them in our coffee room there. That way, I will still see them, they won't feel useless and abandoned anymore, since now they are at least being used, and I won't feel guilty about throwing them away. Of course, I have to be sure to allow the rest of the family to pick through them and decide if any are just too special to them!