Thursday, July 27, 2006


Sometimes, it is almost beyond my comprehension why things happen, good or bad. Other times, I am completly confident in not needing to know why, and trusting that God has everything under control and there is no need to wonder or worry. It is; "Meant. To. Be."
"Everybody Loves Raymond," anyone?
In thinking about the new upcoming job of mine. I've gone through tons of emotions. Fear. Excitement. Panic. all causing me to question my worthiness of such an adventure. And I realized something today. That this is the epidimy of all of my hard work. All the years of the crappy jobs, with crappy hours and crappy bosses, have brought me to this point. This amazing place that I think....think, but am swaying to... know now, I have earned. I am here, and it's okay. I am worthy.
For awhile there, I didn't think I was, but I have come around, after listing all of my abilities, and experience in my head, and reconfirming with friends and family; I AM ready. Amazing how that works. The person I interviewed with for this job made the same decision and hired me.....DUH.
And now I am the crappy boss.
Evil laughter.

Wednesday, July 19, 2006

ILLEGAL Immigration explaination

A lady wrote the best letter I have seen in the Editorials in ages!! It explains things better than all the stuff you hear on TV. --------------
"Recently large demonstrations have taken place across the country protesting the fact that Congress is finally addressing the issue of illegal immigration. Certain people are angry that the U.S. might try to protect its own borders, might make it harder to sneak into this country and, once here, to stay indefinitely. Let me see if I correctly understand the thinking behind these protests.
Let's say I break into your house. Let's say that when you discover me in your house, you insist that I leave But I say, "I've made all the beds and washed the dishes and did the laundry and swept the floors; I've done all the things you don't like to do. I'm hard-working and honest (except for when I broke into your house)."
According to the protesters, not only must you let me stay, you must add me to your family's insurance plan and provide other benefits to me and to my family (my husband will do your yard work because he too is hard-working and honest, except for that breaking in part).
If you try to call the police or force me out, I will call my friends who will picket your house carrying signs that proclaim my right to be there. It's only fair, after all, because you have a nicer house than I do, and I'm just trying to better myself.
I'm hard-working and honest ... um, except for .. well, you know.
And what a deal it is for me!! I live in your house, contributing only a fraction of the cost of my keep, and there is nothing you can do about it without being accused of selfishness, prejudice and being anti-housebreaker. Did I miss anything?
Does this sound reasonable to you? If it does, grab a sign and go picket something. If this sounds insane to you, call your senators and enlighten them because they are stumbling in the darkness right now and really need your help." Linda Myers April 10, 2006 - New-Sentinel

Saturday, July 15, 2006

I gotta new job!

This is new, and unexpected.
I almost didn't go to the interview...I thought it might be nice to see if my skills were still marketable or not. The interview went beautifully, it lasted about an hour, she had all sorts of questions for me, my answers seemed to please her, one after another, she just lit up at after every one. She and I had a great connection, seemed to understand eachother and the struggles at a place like this.
I will be the Non-Clinical Coordinator for a large healthcare facility.
The clinic has offices for 12 FP docs, 2 OBGYN's, 1 Pediatric doc and mulitple part time specilaists, an after hours Instacare, an Urgent Kids Care, Lab and Radiological Services, and a Pharmacy.
I'll be incharge of hiring, training and managing the front desk/billing/Medical Records and Call Center clinic staff. I'm the liason between the doctors and their staffing needs. My other duties will be payroll and doc schedules. all of the reception, dictation, billing, coding, patient needs... About 40 employees are "mine". Also, I'll be managing budget reports, supplies ordering, computer support, and presentation of the clinic.
I'm so excited. It's a Monday thru Friday job. 7-3. I'll be home for my 10 year old now nights, weekends, and holidays. The baby will be watched by my neighbor (whom I love) and only for 3 days a week, 5 hours or so, and he'll sleep for 3-4 hours of that.
Hubby will be off two days during the week for the baby, because he works all weekends again. Bless him.
I think life at home will be much less stressful for everyone with me there instead of my swing shift job, when everyone else is home. Working nights and weekends kept me home with the baby, but everyone else never saw me and it got crazy.
It's funny, your best intentions don't always work out like you'd hope. Turns out my 10 year old needs me more that I thought. I thought working at nights would solve all our problems. Well, it just created more. MAN!! Live and Learn.
Whoo-hoo! I feel Happy!!

The Darndest Things

Last night, in the middle of the Fourth of July fire works, Birdy craned her head around to tell us something. "What?" we yelled. "What?" It was impossible to hear. Backward-shooting stars were exploding in the sky into balls of glittering rainbow, and the noise was deafening. "I said" — Birdy was yelling now — "I don't really like to eat rotten food." Indeed.
I keep waiting for the part where the inadvertent comedy wears off — when we stop laughing, every day, about the absurdly hilarious things the kids do or say. I know it will be different with, say, teenagers. "Mom, I dented your Subaru," just isn't that funny. Although I actually just pictured Ben saying it and it was kind of comical. But tell me: Does it stop being funny?
Then there was the morning last week when we were driving into town, Ben pointing out the various trucks on the road in his sweet/pedantic way. As we were passing a Drake's truck: "There's a pastry truck, Birdy! It sells pastries." A Lay's truck: "There's a chips truck, Birdy! It sells chips. Oh — and there's a tow truck!" A long pause, then an earnest Birdy: "Does it sell toes?"
The thing is, I am forever snapping at my kids, and am always exasperated. I come after them in my awful, neurotic way with wet washcloths and hand sanitizer and sunscreen and bug spray and I ruin their lives. I nag them to finish their milk and brush their teeth and clean up the living room and be careful on the stairs and stop scratching my back with their revolting toenails. I wiggle teeth and dig out splinters and turn an appraising eye to their moles and scalps and infected bug bites and red throats. They are too loud and too wild and too whiny and too bickery and too hot to be crawling all over me like that. But still I can't get over the miracle of having them here.
There just aren't enough ways to tell these kids how much we love them.
Catherine Newman -Ben and Birdy -