Here's the one and only pic of me taken today.
There ya go anon. :P
BTW... Screw you. I was tired.
Okay :P
Today...
I spent close to six hours in the backseat of a car.
As exciting as that sounds to some, trust me.... It wasn't... I was next to Former Partner McHottie for most of those hours.
We went to the USAF Museum in Dayton. And the time spent in the museum was AWESOME (mostly in part to McHottie's insane knowledge of anything with wings or which destroys something).
Most of the time spent in the car was dedicated to picking on me. I'm an easy target. It's okay.
Thank you, Baby Brother and McHottie. I have a feeling you'll soon be good friends.
Oh, and I hate you both. Pictures to come tomorrow.
A good day.
Today I spent quality time with my son playing Guitar Hero World Tour, and introduced him to Bon Jovi. Two birds with one stone.
My daughter is still talking about last nights encounter with Santa. She's excited, and I'm excited that she is.
I'm doing okay, I really am. I think I've finally recovered from the cold that's kicked my ass for the last two weeks. I've been terribly stressed, and that's let up a bit in the last two or three days. I can finally feel the muscles in my shoulders and neck give a little. Like I'm getting a really good backrub.
I hope you're all having a wonderful weekend :)
Award :)
Thank you to my blog twin, Sam, Medix311, Chapati, and Ninja Medic for the Bookworm award.
(Somehow I managed to completely miss Chapati and Ninja Medic the first time around. I'm so sorry. Ya know how they say the mind is the first thing to go, right? At least I still have nice hair :))
You love me, you really love me!!! Sorry, dating myself there.
Rules are as follows. Pass it on to five other bloggers, and tell them to open the nearest book to page 56. Write out the fifth sentence on that page, and also the next two to five sentences. The CLOSEST BOOK, NOT YOUR FAVORITE, OR MOST INTELLECTUAL!
I have two books sitting on my desk, the closest being the phone book. Technically it's a book, but for the purposes of this award I'm going to grab the one next to it.
Life, Death, and Everything In Between: A Paramedic's Memoirs. Some Medic wrote it. I can't remember his name. (Sort of unrelated, if any of my local readers wouldn't mind, could you click on that book link and check out the helicopter at the top of the site... Looks very much like Lifeflight, doesn't it??? Sorry, my ADOBSO is flaring up again.)
Page 56... Oh, this is gonna be good. Fifth sentence (and a few more, hey, rules are rules!)...
"Unit Two, go ahead," Bobby answers, groaning.
"Respond to Crossroads on a Priority One. Back up Unit One on a motor vehicle accident." Well, we figured it was too good to last. Sigh!
I quickly collapse the poles and stow them under the bench seat as Bobby stows the cooler. I gather up the stringer of fish, and not knowing what to do with them, drop them in a biohazard bag and put them under the seat with the fishing poles.
*snip*
If you haven't purchased that Medic's book, you're truly missing out. It's one of my favorites, which is why it's sitting on my desk, next to the phone book.
My five picks:
Jay G. from Marooned. You never know what you might get there on any given day, and that's why I read his posts every day. Kids (and they are mighty cute, I might add), Politics, Guns, Food... You name it.
Lucy from Lucy's Logic. Her photography is stunning and her words are just as beautiful.
Hammer. Because he's Hammer. Hopefully he comes back soon, I've missed his posts.
Detail Medic, once again. Because I want to be her. I might have mentioned that once or twice.
And finally, I'd be out of my mind to not mention AD. I'm sure that he's already gotten it ten times over, but there's a reason for that.
Yet Another Bass Pro Post.
I might bitch and whine about living in Toledo, but the truth is (at least to some of my online friends), I'm a lucky girl.
I live within thirty minutes of both Cabela's and Bass Pro. Bass Pro is closer (about fifteen minutes) so tonight they won.
Hang in there folks, it's worth it.
The entrance is stunning... Even more so at night. My favorite part is the sign that reads "Welcome Fishermen, Hunters, And Other Liars." Like EMT's. Or so I've heard.
A ginormous 30+ foot Christmas tree greets you at the entrance. It was beautiful... I was using a 50mm lens, so this was the best I could do. It's the top quarter.
And then there's the fireplace. I love this fireplace, and the table that sits in front of it, fashioned out of an old door... It's beautiful. If you squint you can see my coffee sitting in the lower left corner.
But we weren't there to admire "some old table", we were there to see the Big Guy... You know... Santa. There were Reindeer tracks on the ground to direct us to his location. The kiddos excitedly followed them.
We were greeted with a veritable Christmas Shangri-La. Santa, Guns, and RC cars. They didn't know what to do first. Being my children, they instantly zeroed in on weapons and made a bee line for them.
That right there, my friends and neighbors, is my little princess, with a pink crossbow. She's a rockstar folks. Check out her third shot:
I wish I could say it was my shot, but I'd be lying. Hey, the sight was off, she adjusted for it, and I didn't. :)
Before my three-year-old completely humiliated myself and her Brother, we decided to go check out the other attractions. Like her other favorite thing. Trains.
They had trains. Lots of them. With itty bitty little villages set up. Future Cardiologist reminded me that we actually own a train set... I wonder where that disappeared to. I have a feeling I know, but I'm not going to go down that road. That's another post entirely.
Being my children, they were soon pulling me to another area. Yep. More guns.
Yep. That says Red Ryder. If you haven't seen the movie, you should. It's a classic :)
And once again, that's my little princess. FC wasn't nearly as intrigued by the guns as she was.
Her Mom wasn't much better. True, the targets were all of 3 yards away, but still. It was free, and it was fun.
And I didn't do so bad, for a kid :)
Our time in Christmas Nirvana was quickly coming to an end. There was more of the store to check out... Like a Christmas tree decorated with shotgun shells and pheasant feathers. It rocked. I want one.
And the baby bdu gear, which instantly made me think of AD and his beautiful little girl.
Soon it was time to go... Far too soon. I could spend a few hours here. And a few thousand on one of those platinum visa's I hear about but don't have (for reasons like this).
"Mommom, what's that noise?" My little princess was pulling at my sleeve. The sound was that of a Bellringer. The first that I've heard this season. FC is familiar with them, She isn't.
I folded up two one dollar bills and tucked them in my kiddos hands. "When we go outside, you both will pull this money out of your pockets and stuff them into the red bucket, do you understand?"
FC nodded. The Princess was a little less willing. But eventually she stuffed her dollar in.
We headed for the car. FC was the first to ask, "Mom, why did we put that money in those buckets? Where does it go?"
It was cold, the wind was blowing, and the little one wasn't exactly happy to be leaving without her pink crossbow, but this was one of those teaching moments.
"Well, FC... There are families who don't have a warm house to live in. You know that, right?" I was now pulling them across the crosswalk (in true form, fish lined. You just have to see it.)
"Yeah, I know."
"Well, those people ringing those bells... They give that money to the people who need it the most." I really didn't know how else to put it.
"But we need money, don't we?"
Damn, he got me.
"Well, FC, we have a car, and gas, and a warm house to sleep in. There are people who need to take the bus to get to where they need to go. There are people who don't have ANY house to sleep in. Or a bed. Or clothes to change into. I'd say we're pretty lucky, wouldn't you?" We were almost to the car. He stopped just long enough to admire that heap of crap that I curse on a daily basis.
"Yeah, Mom... We're lucky."
With that, I buckled the little one in while FC did it himself. And we drove home. She wasn't happy, but they both were was surprisingly silent.
It was a good night. Truly.
Extreme Makeover: Home Edition...
The Toledo Edition that I was fortunate enough to take part in will be aired this Sunday at 8pm Eastern Time.
I've already caught myself in a preview, I dare you to find me on Sunday.
A nifty prize goes to the first sighting. :)
Love and Everything After... pt. II
(Okay, I'm starting to think I should have named this post "A Redneck Love Story" - Epi
Edited again: Thanks David for the POTD nod!)
"What do you mean, pregnant?!?! I'm not pregnant, do the test again." I was quickly approaching frantic.
That poor Doctor, I'm sure that I was the highlight of his day. He told me in the calmest, most rational voice that he could muster that I was in fact, pregnant. And no, they didn't need to test me again.
"But I'm CATHOLIC." I blurted out.
Yeah right Epi, that's about as far from a "Get Out Of Pregnancy Free" card as you can get. Guess again, girly.
"Been having sex?" He countered, less than impressed with my argument.
"Oh yeah. There is that. But we used... ya know. Protection." It came out as a whisper.
No amount of Novena's was going to get me out of this one.
Now I just had to tell Him.
Four days later....
"What's wrong with you? You've been so quiet lately..." We were in bed watching some late night comedian. (Or was it South Park. I can't remember for certain.) What I do remember was Mr. Epi's concern over my sudden withdrawal. I also remember the date. July 1st, 1999.
I hadn't told him yet, hell, I hadn't told anyone. Looking back, I just didn't know how. I was terrified. It didn't matter how well I thought I knew him. This was life altering stuff, and the truth was, I was quickly figuring out that I didn't know him as well as I thought I did.
"Uhm... Did you notice that I didn't have anything to drink last night while you and Jackass friend were drinking?" I was shaking. Terrified. I did mention I was terrified, didn't I?
"Come to think of it..."
"Okay... And I haven't had as much as ONE cigarette in four days, right?"
And that's when the future Mr. Epi had his first lightbulb moment of our relationship.
"OH SHIT." His face instantly fell.
You know the saying Hope for the best and expect the worst? That pretty much sums up how I had been feeling up until that point. Now I just wanted to die. "Yeah, Oh shit," I replied. I rolled over in bed and tried to fall asleep.
**********
My assumption that since he had already proposed that he would automatically marry me because I was knocked up was... less than accurate. He was young remember, just 19. I was young myself, just two years older. Both of us are the children of very devout Catholics (while not being nearly as devout ourselves. Obviously.)
He was making it very clear to me that even though he loved me "More than life itself", he didn't love me enough to actually marry me. Even if I was pregnant. This caused major arguments for the first time in our now year-long relationship. I'm sure that it didn't have anything to do with the fact that for the first time in our, yes, very short relationship, I was very cranky, very tired, and possibly a touch irrational.
A sample...
"What's that smell?" Mr. Epi, err... Future Mr. Epi is sitting in the recliner watching TV.
I'm half asleep on the couch. And nauseated. "Mmmm... I dunno."
"Weren't you making something in the kitchen?" Mr. Epi takes a long draw off a bottle of Bud Light that he wasn't even old enough to drink legally.
"Oh SHIT. The noodles!" I jump to my feet and sleepily stagger towards the kitchen.
(Thirty seconds later...)
*Hysterical sobbing heard from the kitchen, Mr. Epi cautiously approaches the scene of the crime against noodles* "Uhm... Epi? You okay Baby?"
"NO, I'm NOT okay. Why didn't you tell me I was boiling noodles for the second time today? Jesus what's wrong with YOU?"
And scene.
Yeah, I wouldn't have married me either.
I looked him directly in the chin. "What...do...you... want? And no, I'm not in the mood for sex."
"So when are you gonna marry me?" He had this cheesy blissful grin on his face.
"Uhhhm... Huh?" I'm a woman of many words, clearly. I really didn't know what else to say.
He took the glass out of my hand and set it on the kitchen table behind him and pulled me close. "I said, When are you going to marry me?"
I blinked.
"Epi?"
"Really? Because I know that I said I just wanted to marry you for the epidural your insurance would pay for, butImighthavebeenlying." Being hugely emotional, I could feel tears coming, and quickly.
"It was never that I didn't want to marry you. I love you, Epi. You know that, right?"
"Do you promise?" A somewhat juvenile statement to make, but one that he knew the importance of. A promise is a promise. It was then and it has been to this day.
"I promise."
In a three minute ceremony in the Mayor's office two days later I married him. Two of his friends, the jackass and the man who would become my Son's Godfather were there as witnesses. No flowers, no pictures, none of my friends or family. The only memento I had was the marriage license.
And you know what? It didn't matter one bit to me.
He was making it very clear to me that even though he loved me "More than life itself", he didn't love me enough to actually marry me. Even if I was pregnant. This caused major arguments for the first time in our now year-long relationship. I'm sure that it didn't have anything to do with the fact that for the first time in our, yes, very short relationship, I was very cranky, very tired, and possibly a touch irrational.
A sample...
"What's that smell?" Mr. Epi, err... Future Mr. Epi is sitting in the recliner watching TV.
I'm half asleep on the couch. And nauseated. "Mmmm... I dunno."
"Weren't you making something in the kitchen?" Mr. Epi takes a long draw off a bottle of Bud Light that he wasn't even old enough to drink legally.
"Oh SHIT. The noodles!" I jump to my feet and sleepily stagger towards the kitchen.
(Thirty seconds later...)
*Hysterical sobbing heard from the kitchen, Mr. Epi cautiously approaches the scene of the crime against noodles* "Uhm... Epi? You okay Baby?"
"NO, I'm NOT okay. Why didn't you tell me I was boiling noodles for the second time today? Jesus what's wrong with YOU?"
And scene.
Yeah, I wouldn't have married me either.
**********
It was September, 1999, and we were attending a very close relatives wedding. Something that is for an as to yet unwed Catholic Mom-to-Be... well... Emotional. To say the very least.
I cried before Mass.
I cried during Mass.
I cried after Mass.
My closest cousin was marrying his pregnant girlfriend. I know how that sounds... Believe me. It might have been a Catholic wedding, but it was a redneck reception. What was killing me (other than the fact that she was due the same day I was, February 29th, 2000), was the fact that I knew her from high school, and oh, by the way, her baby wouldn't be born out of wedlock.
Hey, I didn't say I was rational, remember?
I was one of a small handful of sober people at the reception (with the exception of the Bride, I said we were rednecks, not white trash).
At one point I pulled my sombrero-wearing-extremely-intoxicated-future husband aside and begged him to marry me.
"Why don't you want to marry me now? You wanted to marry me a few months ago. You know I love you. You know that you're the only person I want to spend the rest of my life with. This is your baby. Don't you want to be a family?"
"Yeeeesssshhhh I waaahnnt to marrry you. Whhhhyyyyy would you shhhaaaay I don't want to marrrrry youuu?" Before I could answer, my cousin was pulling my sombrero-wearing-future-husband away to join into a chorus of "You've Lost That Loving Feeling" by the Righteous Brothers.
Not exactly a scene from "Love Story", but being the irritable cranky irrational pregnant girl I was, I planned on holding him to it.
Except that he forgot about it the next day.
Sure, he treated me like a Princess. Anything I needed and he did it. He rubbed my feet, my back, my head... He didn't tease me for sleeping just about every second that I wasn't working. He didn't even tease me when I called him in tears after tossing my cookies outside of the Amish Meat Market after a call for work.
He was doing what he promised my very threatening Father he'd do. He was taking care of me.
Despite his effort to take care of me, our fights were occurring on a pretty frequent basis. We'd argue over one insignificant thing or another, and I'd do what I do best to this day. I'd take off. I'd run and hide.
And then a few weeks after my Cousin's wedding... Something changed in Future Mr. Epi. At almost the very second I became resigned to the fact that I would be an unwed Mother (Horrors!), he did something I never expected.
I was walking to the kitchen with a glass, preparing to do a sink full of dishes. He stood in the doorway, effectively blocking it. I might be obnoxiously tall (6'1"), but he's still a good four inches taller.
I wasn't in the mood to be playful at that particular moment. To this day, doing dishes brings out the cranky in me. I really wish I had a dishwasher.
I cried before Mass.
I cried during Mass.
I cried after Mass.
My closest cousin was marrying his pregnant girlfriend. I know how that sounds... Believe me. It might have been a Catholic wedding, but it was a redneck reception. What was killing me (other than the fact that she was due the same day I was, February 29th, 2000), was the fact that I knew her from high school, and oh, by the way, her baby wouldn't be born out of wedlock.
Hey, I didn't say I was rational, remember?
I was one of a small handful of sober people at the reception (with the exception of the Bride, I said we were rednecks, not white trash).
At one point I pulled my sombrero-wearing-extremely-intoxicated-future husband aside and begged him to marry me.
"Why don't you want to marry me now? You wanted to marry me a few months ago. You know I love you. You know that you're the only person I want to spend the rest of my life with. This is your baby. Don't you want to be a family?"
"Yeeeesssshhhh I waaahnnt to marrry you. Whhhhyyyyy would you shhhaaaay I don't want to marrrrry youuu?" Before I could answer, my cousin was pulling my sombrero-wearing-future-husband away to join into a chorus of "You've Lost That Loving Feeling" by the Righteous Brothers.
Not exactly a scene from "Love Story", but being the irritable cranky irrational pregnant girl I was, I planned on holding him to it.
Except that he forgot about it the next day.
Sure, he treated me like a Princess. Anything I needed and he did it. He rubbed my feet, my back, my head... He didn't tease me for sleeping just about every second that I wasn't working. He didn't even tease me when I called him in tears after tossing my cookies outside of the Amish Meat Market after a call for work.
He was doing what he promised my very threatening Father he'd do. He was taking care of me.
Despite his effort to take care of me, our fights were occurring on a pretty frequent basis. We'd argue over one insignificant thing or another, and I'd do what I do best to this day. I'd take off. I'd run and hide.
And then a few weeks after my Cousin's wedding... Something changed in Future Mr. Epi. At almost the very second I became resigned to the fact that I would be an unwed Mother (Horrors!), he did something I never expected.
I was walking to the kitchen with a glass, preparing to do a sink full of dishes. He stood in the doorway, effectively blocking it. I might be obnoxiously tall (6'1"), but he's still a good four inches taller.
I wasn't in the mood to be playful at that particular moment. To this day, doing dishes brings out the cranky in me. I really wish I had a dishwasher.
I looked him directly in the chin. "What...do...you... want? And no, I'm not in the mood for sex."
"So when are you gonna marry me?" He had this cheesy blissful grin on his face.
"Uhhhm... Huh?" I'm a woman of many words, clearly. I really didn't know what else to say.
He took the glass out of my hand and set it on the kitchen table behind him and pulled me close. "I said, When are you going to marry me?"
I blinked.
"Epi?"
"Really? Because I know that I said I just wanted to marry you for the epidural your insurance would pay for, butImighthavebeenlying." Being hugely emotional, I could feel tears coming, and quickly.
"It was never that I didn't want to marry you. I love you, Epi. You know that, right?"
"Do you promise?" A somewhat juvenile statement to make, but one that he knew the importance of. A promise is a promise. It was then and it has been to this day.
"I promise."
In a three minute ceremony in the Mayor's office two days later I married him. Two of his friends, the jackass and the man who would become my Son's Godfather were there as witnesses. No flowers, no pictures, none of my friends or family. The only memento I had was the marriage license.
And you know what? It didn't matter one bit to me.
**********
Married life really wasn't much different than the two of us living in sin. Well, there were less arguments, oddly enough, but in general things were good. We complimented each other well.
He knew that I was obsessed with anything with wings and would call me outside when a C-130 was coming in to land so that I could take pictures. (The benefit of living in the flight path of a very nearby Air Guard base.)
I knew how much he hated to do laundry or iron anything, so I would keep his clothes clean and pressed. And I'd cook. And I'd clean. And do other wifely things.
When our job presented us with the opportunity to move back to Toledo we jumped at it. I was now VERY pregnant, and had no friends or family nearby. His family and friends were a short drive away, but he knew that this was something we had to do. We would both get a pay increase (He would be my supervisor now, technically,) and I would get more hours. And I wouldn't have to consult a map whenever I'd leave for a call.
We packed up our belongings and moved with three days notice. No small feat, believe me.
Life in Toledo came with a learning curve for Mr. Epi. While he had visited several times, he had NO idea where he was going at any given point. He would have to call me constantly for directions. Kind of like I had to when we moved to Mansfield. Only Toledo is four times the size of Mansfield, give or take a bit. He's a smart guy, he caught on quickly.
And sicker than hell.
I woke up with two stuffy ears, including one that hurt like hell, a fever, and a cough. When you add that to being EXTREMELY pregnant, it equals misery. I called my PCP immediately. His nurse and I have been friends for a while, she found room for me in his schedule.
I sat with a box of tissues in one of the exam rooms. When his nurse came in she had to take my BP three times. Not a good sign.
When he came in, he didn't recognize me. TRULY not a good sign.
Once he realized who I was, and that my BP was sky high for a pregnant girl, he lost it. He was ready to call an ambulance to take me directly to L&D. I had to promise to name my child after him and that I would drive to the hospital and only to the hospital for him to allow me to leave on my own.
My BP was 210/120. Far too high.
Married life really wasn't much different than the two of us living in sin. Well, there were less arguments, oddly enough, but in general things were good. We complimented each other well.
He knew that I was obsessed with anything with wings and would call me outside when a C-130 was coming in to land so that I could take pictures. (The benefit of living in the flight path of a very nearby Air Guard base.)
I knew how much he hated to do laundry or iron anything, so I would keep his clothes clean and pressed. And I'd cook. And I'd clean. And do other wifely things.
When our job presented us with the opportunity to move back to Toledo we jumped at it. I was now VERY pregnant, and had no friends or family nearby. His family and friends were a short drive away, but he knew that this was something we had to do. We would both get a pay increase (He would be my supervisor now, technically,) and I would get more hours. And I wouldn't have to consult a map whenever I'd leave for a call.
We packed up our belongings and moved with three days notice. No small feat, believe me.
Life in Toledo came with a learning curve for Mr. Epi. While he had visited several times, he had NO idea where he was going at any given point. He would have to call me constantly for directions. Kind of like I had to when we moved to Mansfield. Only Toledo is four times the size of Mansfield, give or take a bit. He's a smart guy, he caught on quickly.
**********
Before we knew it I was 36 weeks pregnant.And sicker than hell.
I woke up with two stuffy ears, including one that hurt like hell, a fever, and a cough. When you add that to being EXTREMELY pregnant, it equals misery. I called my PCP immediately. His nurse and I have been friends for a while, she found room for me in his schedule.
I sat with a box of tissues in one of the exam rooms. When his nurse came in she had to take my BP three times. Not a good sign.
When he came in, he didn't recognize me. TRULY not a good sign.
Once he realized who I was, and that my BP was sky high for a pregnant girl, he lost it. He was ready to call an ambulance to take me directly to L&D. I had to promise to name my child after him and that I would drive to the hospital and only to the hospital for him to allow me to leave on my own.
My BP was 210/120. Far too high.
**********
This is turning out to be a little more emotionally taxing that I had originally thought. For those of you truly interested, I promise to finish it soon.
Classic lines...
David at Authorblog put up some beautiful shots this morning... Mine aren't exactly in the same spirit, but they are of a similar subject.
I've always been fascinated by the insides of things. People, computers, pianos.... 
There's just something so striking (pun intended?) about the inner workings of pianos... They're works of art.
Inside and out.
Proud Momma
That right there is my little man. On TV. Again. He's the cute one in the middle.
It helps when your Papa is the chief photographer for the local ABC affiliate.
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