The first graders were out of control. Boys standing on tables, crawling up the shelves, yelling....and the volunteer teachers looking dumbfounded "what can we do?"
Being a structured person, I knew I was not going to survive the morning. AND my friend was not too pleased with the chaotic atmosphere, either!
"Hadley, I have a very bad headache. It makes my face do this.....(showed hurt face)....would you like to find things we love about Sundays?"
I gave her my phone/camera and we began to take pictures.
Photography by Miss Hadley
Poses, expressions, and subject matter directed by Miss Hadley
"I like my friends"
"Make a crazy face!"
"I like your headache face."
"Now crazy face!"
"You be dancing fish"
What is your favorite thing to do with me?
"You push the water but get out of the way."
Then we had a photo shoot all over the building.....
"Hey! We match!"
"I like you."
"I like you too, Hadley."
For an hour, this little photographer was a wonderful distraction for my head.
She took some cool pics!
I love learning new things. The problem comes when I don't obtain all knowledge needed to have success. The saying "if at first you don't succeed, try try again" is my personal hell! I want to be able to do anything and everything, without having to practice.
Today, I needed to do a respirator fit test, AND make it look like I knew what I was doing.
Last week, I wore my tight jeans to a worksite. I stood by a steam cooker, the size of a smart car, for 2 1/2 hours. Sweat poured out of my scalp, down my back, and into my jeans. As the jeans formed a second skin covering, I realized I would not be using the restroom until I returned home. If I pulled my pants down, my thighs would expand as the oxygen hit the moisture, and I would need to finish my workday in just my neon orange undies. At least they would match the stripe in my safety vest.
Today, I was prepared for a hot day on a job site, and wore my jeans that are now a size too big.
Monday, after work, I went to dinner in shorts and flip flops. I had worn my work boots that day and my athletic socks had formed a permanent "leg swelling" crease from my lower calf down to my ankle. My regular gorgeous gams looked like an old lady that wore compression socks.
Today, I was prepared to quickly change into my shorts and flip flops, after work, and pick my kids up from camp. I wore ankle socks with my work boots to avoid the silly sock creases.
I have learned that if I prepare and overthink things, I end up looking like an idiot. This week, I developed a new philosophy "just wing it!"
Winging the fit test:
I placed the hood on the employee and told him to tell me as soon as he TASTED the bitter bitrex.
I squeezed and squeezed the nebulizer.
(Pay attention, reader. I am looking for a taste, not a smell. But I stink at verbalization. If I could communicate only through writing, my life would flow smoothly)
He shook his head. He did not smell anything
I squeezed and squeezed, at least 60 times.
I poured more bitrex in the capsule.
I recalled being told how awful bitrex is....bitter.....made a coworker "gag and gag" when he got some in his mouth.
I squeezed the nebulizer some more and asked this employee, "do you smell anything?
Three of us stood there sniffing the bitrex, no smell AT ALL! I started to stress:
1. I don't look like I know what I am doing
2. This is taking too long
3. I don't know what is wrong or how to make it right
Out of anger and confusion, I made an illogical decision. I dipped my finger in the liquid. My finger became a ladle as it poured the bitrex over my lips and tongue.
My face, from top lip down, went numb. I turned to face the employee, drooling from my paralyzed face.
"Ewe don taste anythan bidder at awe?"
The man's eyebrows raised as he searched my face. I assume he was looking for signs that I just had a stroke.
"Oh....well I tasted the bitterness after the 5th squeeze. I was waiting to smell something."
I tried to drink enough from the water fountain to regain any taste, other than bitrex. Unsuccessful...
I finished my visit in the 113 degree shop. My jeans, once again, became soaked with sweat. By the last section of the shop, I was swinging my legs side to side. The top part of my boots had melted to my ankles and lower calf, disabling normal walking ability. The weight of the sweat was slowly removing my pants. My hands were occupied with transporting materials making it hard to retrieve my waistband.
Finally, the 3 hour visit was at an end. I crawled in my car, cranked up the AC, and pried my boots off, along with my lower leg skin, with an impressive suction sound effect.
Now all I had to do was find my way back to the office. I came straight on I 40. Should not be a problem to go back.
I'll just wing it!
I merge onto I 40 and quickly noticed all the world's interstates meet, in this direction.
MAZ, the directionally challenged, ended up on the wrong interstate merge, and almost made it to Mississippi, before realizing the mistake.
30 minutes later than planned, I sloshed into the office, sans boots.
I drank two cokes- bitrex.
I ate Jeff's homemade manicotti (after missing the camp pick up) - bitrex
I ate 5 rolls- bitrex
Maybe NyQuil will chase away this awful taste.
17 years ago, I could have become a single parent.
When I was about 8 months pregnant with Jack, an elderly lady ran a red light and hit Jeff, causing his Pathfinder to fly across the intersection and land upside down on the cars stopped at the red light.
He walked away with a bruised arm and sore muscles.
I'm glad Jeff survived to join me in parenting, because if he had not been at the birth of Jack, a certain nurse would be dead.
As I was doing my Lamaze breathing through the worst pain ever, she tried to coach Jeff on how to support me. But Jeff knows me....
Nurse: "you need to rub her arm or back to relax her"
Jeff: "no, she doesn't want to be touched"
Nurse: "see, relax her like this" she rubs my arm and back....
P O W! I punched her.
Jeff: "don't touch her when she is stressed"
Jeff has been provider, stay at home dad, comedy relief, coach....
Anything the boys have needed...
Happy Father's Day, Jeff.
This evening, I stretched out on the bed and delighted in my sore muscles, releasing their tension. After a few moments of complete relaxation, I turn my head to look at Jeff. His eyes are glazed over, lost in Sports Center.
I know I can entice him.
Entice him to enjoy my gift of Intelligent conversation.
"Can you please take me somewhere tonight, so I can see the full moon? It is called the honey moon and it hasn't happened since 1919."
Jeff glances outside at the evening sun.
I continue, "I really want to see it. Where could we go? The river? Is that where it will set? Yes! That is west! Let's go to the river to see the moon. It will be beautiful!"
Jeff turns and looks at me as I roll over onto my side, eagerly awaiting the- "sure! we'll make it a date, you gorgeous genius."
But instead he slowly drops his jaw, shifts his eyes to the ceiling then back at me (a poorly camouflaged eye roll), as he says,
"The sun is the one that sets, not the moon. We don't orbit the moon."
My cheeks flushed as my hair turned from brown to blond, and my IQ returned it's Mensa card.
Good thing I have attractive elbows!
It was the middle of the night, but it certainly did not matter to him. He had slept a full two hours and that feat created an intense need for a 4 ounce bottle of milk.
The moon fell on my new baby's face, adding an extra heaviness to the already giant newborn.
I struggled to keep my arms from shaking so the baby could focus on eating. I softly sang the song that I would sing every night for the next 8 years.
"Mama loves her baby.
Mama loves her baby.
In 2 years, I would add a new verse:
"Mama loves jack.
Mama loves max.
Mama loves her baby.
My 4 day old son stopped the rhythmic sucking on the bottle, shifted his eyes from "baby world" to mine, and smiled.
I knew at that moment, my title would forever be MAMA. I would work hard the next 17 years to add value to my new name.
Today was just another day as MAMA, but little life moments are what I cherish most.
This evening, I sat on my porch, adjusting my brain from work to home.
I shifted my eyes from "busy world" to my son's eyes.
He towered over me as he told me about his day.
My baby is a wonderful young man.