Uncategorized

Two things to stew on…

First…healthcare. No, I promise this won’t get political or raise any awareness 🙂 , but seriously…I took my daughter to the “doctor” this evening because she has had a persistent stomach ache and it’s added a pretty hairy sore throat to the list of ailments. Know this, my daughter NEVER misses school, not even stupid half days. (Who ever thought of a half day? Pa-lease) So when she dropped her backpack by the door this morning and morphed into a ball beside me in bed, I knew that meant business. By dinner (of course) she’d become worse, so I drove her to the “doctor”. Only to be awakened to what’s, er I mean, who’s out there at these facilities now. They are referred to as “providers”. Yep, I was told I’d see a provider today. Hmm… Then I was called back by a “medical assistant”. Did the nurses and doctor’s get new names? Are these so called “providers” and “assistants” getting the same education as the others used to get? They even wore name badges; ‘medical assistant’. I’m a bit confused, and concerned. What was more eerie was they kept referring to one another by these cold titles. “The provider will be into see you shortly.” “You can ask the provider when she comes back in.” “The medical assistant will come do the strep test.”Are we running out of doctors and nurses? And will I be charged based on a provider and medical assistant rate?

But all that mess came before the drive pool lane at school. Today was extremely rushed for me. I left my house a total of 4 times today. And when you live on Little House on the Prairie that’s kind of a big thing. You usually plan to get groceries and call it a day where I’m from. No, seriously. There are no quick trips from my house. They all take about an hour one way. So before the doctor…provider debacle (which by the way, it’s a virus…yeah sure. I know strep when I see it) there was the car pool at school to pick up my son. Or as I like to call it, the 4k run of my patience. I mean seriously…mothers actually unbuckle themselves, stroll around to the sidewalk, kiss child on head, ask child how day was, undo their backpack to make sure nothing’s missing, place child in car, hum a little tune, buckle them, blow a kiss, shut the door, and saunter back to the driver’s seat. At which time they buckle, wave at the teacher who hasn’t quite exited the building, wait until they see them and return wave, then with turtle speed pull forward. Just once I’d like to blow my horn. I’ve thought about it. Long and hard. Who would scold me? Others might join in. You know who the culprit is by the third week of school. I look for that bumper sticker of the multi-colored bear and pray I’m not behind it. Or the red little hatch back. Oh, I’ve got the offenders down pat, all right.

Well, I’ve got to wake up early so I better get off my little soap box tonight. I somehow made a dentist appointment for all of my children in the morning. You know, when you make these appointments six months in advance, they should tell you where it hits. Lucky for me, it’s the day before Easter…the day I usually earmark for doing all the things I’ve procrastinated a month to do…Easter shop, menu prep for 14 guests…you know, the normal pre-holiday stuff. So this year instead of all that, I get to drive 2 hours to the dentist in holiday traffic.

So to leave on a spectacular note, because after I overcome my hurried day and watch some mindless television, I’ll be fine…I wish you a magnificent Easter. A time to feast with family and friends. To be oh-so-happy warm weather is settling in finally, and to eat all the coconut cake you want! 

Advertisements
Uncategorized

Where Has All the Happiness Gone?

I hope everyone had a wonderful Easter holiday. Mine was great. I cooked for everyone–as is the new tradition. I give my mother a much needed break from the muss and fuss. My turkey turned out like crap. And I even woke at the bloody crack of daylight to put it on–sautéing carrots, celery, and onion…gently thrusting some garlic and broth in for good measure. Thrusting? Really? All for it to taste like the rear end of something killed on the side of the road, after cooking for almost 7 hours. (not that I would know literally what that would taste like.) But there was a ham to fall back on. Thanks for bringing it, Barbie!

And then there was the panic of the dessert. The pound cake, upon reading the recipe the morning of, was discovered not to be the one I envisioned. Not really sure what the original vision was… So off to the store I went. And bought items for chocolate cream pies. Nope, never made one in my life. I’m just not a pie person. Luckily they turned out well. Made everyone forget about the lousy turkey!

Then there was the egg hunt. Ah, the traditional go-and-find-the-golden-egg hunt. Has anyone met my youngest son? The one who is certain the entire world is against him? Well needless to say, he wasn’t the one who found the golden egg. Instead it was the 13 year old cousin. In which he desperately hates now. And hates the inventor of said traditional egg hunt. And eggs…and easter baskets, and for all I know the air in which we breathe. My mother, of course, told him to come over to her, and she tucked a golden egg inside his hand. Just to inform anyone who isn’t at my home during the annual egg hunt–the golden egg has a $20 bill inside. And now my youngest is happy. Still not liking the cousin, because well, she cheated finding that egg, but he can go on and never spend that money now. That’s right…he finds a million things to want, but letting go of the dough is a whole other story.

So on to the title of my post. I was just visiting Facebook. Don’t do it, it’s a trap. You can get sucked in quite quickly. The next thing you know, it’s past your bedtime and now you know what everyone’s doing, done, or going to save as a recipe and never make in their life. But you know, they’re sharing it so it saves on their feed. Ok. Anyway, tonight I got so much more than that. I got a play-by-play of an elderly man getting gunned down on Easter day, a video of one of the innocent children dying from the chemical bomb Syria suffered a few weeks ago, and a baby girl left in a locked van while police knocked out a window to get to her. Ahhhhh……. where is all the happy? I’ll gladly take pictures of what Aunt Noreen’s dinner plate looked like tonight. No matter how disgusting that cabbage looked. And cousin Rita’s feet as she takes a crooked picture of her pool water. Enough with the reality. It’s too depressing. I had to scroll faster than ever tonight, just to get the images out of my mind.

Find your happy place, people! Stop polluting the airways with the horrors of reality. Show a shimmer of kindness. Show some little furry animal getting rescued, a baby trying peas for the first time, a flower growing from an abandoned old pot. Whatever. Just please stop posting the bad and ugly signs of our times. That was a bit unlike me, wasn’t it? So demanding. Maybe I’m just tired. Or my wrist is absolutely killing me. I think I have a pinched nerve. Yeah, blame my plea for happiness on the pinched nerve. What’s come over me with all my ranting?

Well, happy thoughts for now. I’m going to ice a wrist. Have a great week!