You’d better not cry, you’d better not pout. Santa Claus will pull his stethoscope out.
Tonight was the Police Department’s tree lighting ceremony. I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to take pictures with a free Santa, rather  than  pay a mall Santa to put up with my children. However, Derek (My hubs) was in a devilishly bad mood.  To spoil everyone else’s mood, he decided to tell Caity not to be so excited about Santa and his presents.
“Why not, Daddy?” She asks.
“Because Santa is a doctor. He might give you presents, but only after you get a checkup.”
Caitlyn began to whine and I laughed it off, telling her Daddy was only teasing. I guess Derek didn’t think the doctor thing would stick, but sure enough when we walked through the doors of PD, there stood the jolly old pediatrician. 

Caitlyn screamed.
We steered her away to the cookies table where she hid under the legs of it saying, “I no wike that Santa Cwaus. ” She saw the other kids sitting on his lap and was fine. We walked her back over to Santa and she began to hide and cry again. By now, Aidan has caught on that the man in red is baaaaaaaaaad juju.

I tried to trick Aidan into sitting with Santa by handing the man a cookie. Aidan reached for the cookie, looked up, saw the arm the cookie was attatched to and began to cry big wet tears.

Well, I’m making a fantastic impression upon my coworkers at my new job by showing them how crazy my children are. So we go over to help the other little kids decorate the tree.
Caity picks up a red bulb.
Santa turns to the children.

Caity drops the ball and runs away.
From the comfort of her daddy’s arms, she tells everyone, “I dwopped dat. I dwopped that ball.”
That’s great. Time to leave. We came, we saw, we screamed, we broke things, we took a cookie and we ran.  How’s that employee evaluation going to look at my 6 month review? Not so hot.

On the way home, we drove past an old train  museum, made of a giant train. We stopped and got out because Caitlyn loves trains on TV.

^^^^Screaming child^^^^^
Caitlyn HATES trains in real life.
So our evening of  potentially cute pictures was ruined by doctors and real life trains….
Enjoy our pain. Maybe it’ll be funny in the morning.

I’ve lovingly dubbed myself “The Pro-life Pill.”  Everytime you think I’ve stepped off my pro-life soap box, I get back up there and holler some more. Well, now I’m writing letters to the editor so I can reach a more vast audience than just you folks. See? I’m spreading around the irritation so you don’t have to bear this burden alone. (I’m like hemorrhoids with no Preparation H.)
 Our Planned Parenthood  has been giving out the “medical abortion” drug known as RU-486 and our local pro-life community just caught wind of it.
Well, you know how I like to make a fuss for the pro-life community.  So I’m pissin’ off the public now.
Here’s my letter, like it or not.  (But I still love you even if you don’t like it.)

Dear Editor:

Our pets have more credence than our children. Where’s my proof in such a bold statement? Well dear friends, by now you’ve certainly seen the many billboards around town with a picture of a sad puppy and the caption, “I died today. Nobody wanted me.”  It’s a tear-jerking thought that so many animals are unwanted, unloved and eventually killed due to an unmaintainable number at the local shelter.  To a cold hearted few, they’re simply “animals” who have no place in the world and are better off dead.  However, to the soft hearted animal lovers, it’s a beautiful orphan in need of love and comfort.

Funny- I can imagine another cold hearted breed who consider human life to be a “creature which has no place” in their world. The local Planned Parenthood has begun supplying our scared and confused pregnant females with a controversial drug known as RU-486. They ignorantly call it “Medical Abortion”, however medicine is designed to heal and cure. This so-called “medicine” only kills. (In some cases, it has killed the mother as well as the developing infant.) That certainly sounds like a hard pill to swallow.

This pill is only recommended by the manufacturer through the ninth week of pregnancy. (Although abortion clinics have misguidedly handed it out in later weeks and caused even more severe health issues.) In developmental terms: even though you’ve barely found out you’re pregnant, your baby already has tiny developing fingers and toes, four divided chambers of a beating heart and tiny external sex organs. As I stated before, to a cold hearted few this is not a true human being, it’s only “a mass of tissue” or “a woman’s right to choose.” But to those of us who know that every child is precious, it’s a beautiful baby in need of love and comfort. It’s a child waiting for a chance at life. It’s a son or daughter to a family who is looking to adopt.

 If you’re pregnant, scared, confused or looking for a way to offer your child a better life than you feel you can afford to give them, you have more options than just abortion- options that are better for you as well as the baby.

 Visit the loving and completely confidential services of the Pregnancy Help Center of the Concho Valley.  Side effects may include peace of mind, a sense of calm reassuring and a woman’s right to make a better choice.

I’ve taken the plunge. Fallen into the Gap. Gone over the edge…… You  ladies already know.
I put away my skinny clothes.  (*gasps of shock*) Weight watcher’s everywhere are shedding a tear for me.

   Yes. I tried to convince myself that I was only putting away my summer clothes into that big tupperware bin. (we only use plastic boxes since the flood. How’s that for live and learn, eh?) I put away my sweet little mini skirts, my tiny tanning shorts, my spaghetti strap tank tops. They’re all gone. And not just because it’s winter. But because I’m a whale now.
Well, I’m pregnant, but still. I’m friggin huge. My last day at the shoe store last week, some guy asked me, “Oh, you must be due any day now, huh?” I replied, “No sir. I’m only six months along.”  He nodded his head in understanding. “Oh. Twins.”
 In my head I screamed, “NO! I’m just FAT!” =)

Derek suggested I just stare dumbfoundedly at these sorts of people until they freak out and walk away quickly.  I might try it.

So now I have five categories of clothing. (to which my husband stares at *me* dumbfoundedly until I walk quickly away.)
I have:
Skinny summer clothes
Skinny winter clothes
Pregnant summer clothes
Pregnant winter clothes
After pregnant/fat clothes

Guys, you don’t have to understand. Just know that when you move into a house with a woman- she deserves the bigger closet. Even if she’s not yet gone through skinny/fat/pregnant phases with you yet.  Just concede. (and she’ll be sure to not mention that your skinny clothes aren’t fitting you so slimly anymore.)

After Thanksgiving, I’ve got to eat healthier.  No, not because I feel like a whale. My scoliosis is already affecting my pregnant back and the more weight I carry, the worse it hurts. Going to bed in tears at night sucks. So does the fact that preggos can’t take squat for pain relief.   Can I have a surrogate for the next baby please? I’ll let her borrow my “After pregnant/fat clothes”!

25 Weeks:

Head to heels, your baby now measures about 13 1/2 inches. Her weight — a pound and a half — isn’t much more than an average rutabaga, but she’s beginning to exchange her long, lean look for some baby fat. As she does, her wrinkled skin will begin to smooth out and she’ll start to look more and more like a newborn. She’s also growing more hair — and if you could see it, you’d now be able to discern its color and texture.
(Life_by_us’ note: WTF?!?? A RUTABAGA?!!? That’s almost as bad as a kumquat!)

Yeah, my job ROCKS.  Although I won’t be able to divulge specifics once the ball gets rolling, I can certainly explain the gist of it now.  We analyze data and crime trends and try to predict the need for more patrols in particular areas with high crime patterns. Sounds like a lot of mumbo jumbo, eh?  Well, I’ll be able to travel to training courses across Texas and the US to  learn more about my job. The money is great, the people are nice and the job is challenging. My brain is drained from all the reading and studying I did today, but overall, it was a great start.  We’ll be basically expanding a new sub-department based upon  how much use I can get out of this developing program. 

AND- I got a my picture on a spiffy badge. That’s right, I’m officially cool. I haven’t gotten those police issued aviator sunglasses yet, but I’ll be placing a call to Top Gun and borrowing his. Yeah, I’m that cool.

Have you ever had a job that you knew you’d be good at  but NEVER thought you’d get the opportunity to work at? This was a silver platter gift from God and I can’t wait to see how the next few years go. The nerd inside of me has chills up and down her leg. (Kinda like Chris Matthews got from Obama’s voice.)

Best part of all is- I get a lunch break. I get to be home in the evening to see my kids. I *enjoy* the work I’m doing here. I’m making more money to get all of these extra benefits. See how badly the shoe store sucked?
And it’s all thanks to you Xangans and your prayers.

Love to you all!

You are no longer AFK.

I’m back with great news: I’m funnier than EVAR!

Just kidding, but in good news:
I GOT THE PD JOB!
And we moved into our new house without any issues.
Aidan turned one and ate cake till  he went sugar comatose.
My house smells like cinnamon and sweet eucalyptus.
The baby in my belly is a foot long.
We now have cable and internet!

I just finished training my replacement for the manager position at the shoe store. She’s doing fantastically, she’s really only using me as a support net.  I logged more than 50 hours in  the store last week, not including errands I ran, time on the phone solving issues, etc.  Meanwhile, I am SO looking forward to  beginning my new job. I’ll actually have a challenge  to face every day. No more monotonously placing  a box of shoes. On. The shelf. Yeah. That’s exciting.
 I’ll be getting a new cell number in the next few weeks, so keep in touch with me till then and I might let you have the new number. In techno news, I’ll probably have texting on this network. You online friends don’t see the excitement behind this.Let me explain.
My sisters and friends don’t actually want to *speak* to me. They want to send me a one liner which will help them “keep in touch” better than a phone call.  They send me messages. I do not respond because it costs ALOT on my current plan.  Therefore- if I wish to “keep in touch” with my friends and family by phone, I must be able to text.
 Email? No. Phone calls? No. Letters by post? God no, this isn’t the stone age.  Texting is the new “in” thing to do. So to be hip, I’ll be getting with the program and adding a texting regimen  to my daily exercise routine.  

Since moving into our new house, we’ve spent over two hundred dollars on  minor repairs. It’s exciting and prideful to  put effort into something that is MINE. Homeowners know. You silly renters… you don’t know……

 That’s all for now. I should be able to write more now that I have internet. And a life. Thanks for bearing with me. I missed you.

 The air of “Change” has come… and it’s giving me an allergy attack. Since the election of Barack Obama as future president, I’ve been suffering from allergies so badly that my Steve Urkel impression is now first class.

 I’m waiting to hear from the police department about the job so I can impress them with my Fran Dresher-ness. (I doubt that will get me the position any sooner.)

Since I myself did not vote for this “change” in the air of allergies, I’m going to blame it on all of you who did.  BarelyJen and HowlingtotheMoon, I love you both dearly, but for the next few years, everything is YOUR fault.  Kay? A democratic congress *and* a democratic president will certainly help you to see the light. For the past few weeks, I’ve been praying for whomever the future president is, and that God will guide them to make the right decisions for the country.

Avenuetothereal, I know you only voted for Barrocoli Obama because it tastes good with your cheese loving Wisconsin state.

(See what I did there? I made a joke…Broccoli and cheese?  No? I tried, damnit.)

We move into our new house tomorrow morning and we’ve been painting the interior for the past few days. As soon as my camera is unpacked,  I’ll be sending pictures to you Yankees.

In other news, guess who’s a whole year old today? My sweet boy.

I can’t understand how he grew so fast. He’s taken his first steps already and quickly mastered them. Now he’s an expert at walking *and* begging for attention at the same time.   Fortunately, Derek’s a stay at home daddy right now. Enjoy that one, babe!

 Love to you all,

Life_by_us

At your request: A 22 week pregnancy update!

 
At 11 inches (the length of a spaghetti squash) and almost 1 pound, your baby is starting to look like a miniature newborn.
His lips, eyelids, and eyebrows are becoming more distinct, and he’s
even developing tiny tooth buds beneath his gums. His eyes have formed,
but his irises (the colored part of the eye) still lack pigment. If you
could see inside your womb,
you’d be able to spot the fine hair (lanugo) that covers his body and
the deep wrinkles on his skin, which he’ll sport until he adds a
padding of fat to fill them in. Inside his belly, his pancreas —
essential for the production of some important hormones — is developing
steadily.

 Today, the previous tenant turned in the keys to the house we’re moving into on Friday. So we investigated. =)
 It’s smaller than I remember as a kid… but then again, I’m a lot bigger. You see, it was my great grandparents’ house and it’s next door to my grandma’s house. We have almost an acre of a yard for the dogs to run in and  7 more acres  behind the house where the horses play. The house might be small, but the property is HUGE. We eyeballed where the furniture would go. Derek pulled a “Man Card” on me and puffed out his chest as he explained how he could fix the minor patches and repair work that needed to be done.   The previous tenant was obviously  allergic to cleaning and yard work. (he was a single man… go figure.)
 So if you’re coming to the Aidan cake-demolishing party on Sunday, forgive our yard and houses’ condition. It’s a work in progress.  Meanwhile, I’m SO excited to finally have a home. The kids’ room is much bigger than I’d expected. The perfect size for three kiddos.  I can’t wait till we can start measuring their height on a door frame.
We’ll be in this house long enough to see my flowers pop up for more than just one spring season. Bye bye military. Hello life.

 I’ve not heard anything from PD of course, due to the weekend. The longer I wait, the more I wonder what’s wrong that they haven’t called. I’ve reverted from “Professional Adult Female” to “Insecure Jr. High Girl”  all over again.
“Why aren’t they calling? Don’t they like me? Did I have bad breath? I *know* I checked for pit stains before meeting them….” I know, it’s silly. I’m being silly. I’m just so excited about this job and I can’t wait to start it.
 It’s like Psych meets CSI. (without the commercial interruptions.) I’d be investigating previous files and crimes and comparing them  to growing crime  trends in certain areas  in the city to predict where future crimes might occur and be prevented. It’s mostly paperwork and running files, but I know I’ll love it.  The people are great and the hours are  NOT going to be 12 hour days with only one day off a week like I’m currently pulling.  I’ll actually get to see my kids while they’re awake.

Aidan’s cake demolishing party (aka birthday) is going to be at 5pm next Sunday at our new house.(tentatively)
The movers come on Friday, the party is Sunday. See where there might be a problem? So if things don’t work out, we’ll be at my grandma’s house. (oh no…. the commute… it’s killing me.) If I don’t call you to personally  invite you, don’t be offended. I’ve been leaving it up to word of mouth and Xanga to get the word around since I literally have not found a single daylight hour to make a phone call. (yeah, I don’t even have a cable/internet provider set up for our new house yet…) Just call and speak to whomever answers the cell phone or house phone to get more information as I’m not home during store hours.

 All you Xangan’s coming? Chocolate AND strawberry cakes will be served. You buy the plane ticket, I’ll buy the fruit punch. Deal?

This morning I had another interview/background check at the police department. This one was much more exciting than the past week of activities combined. Why? Because short of clearing the background check, I’ve got the job. Now I’ve never been arrested, nor have I ever done illicit drugs, but I have things to be embarrassed about.
Example 1:In highschool, my nick name was Bunny. This name has carried forward into modern times by a few friends and my previous employment application from 5 years ago at the police department.
Is this something I wanted shared with someone whom I’m trying to prove my maturity level to? Nope.
YOU FAIL!

Example 2: Back before I was married, I frequented the karaoke bars at least once a week. I didn’t really do any drinking or “mingling” with men, I just liked to sing in front of an audience of drunken idiots who’d clap for me until I stumbled off stage.
 Do I want to be portrayed  as a past-tense bar fly to my hopefully future employer? Nope.
YOU FAIL!

Example 3: They checked my outdated Myspace page that still had a deployment  countdown  on it from Derek’s military deployment. It stated : 00:00:00 days left until I make out with my husband.
Do I want to be portrayed as a hubby-whore to my future supervisor? Well.. maybe a little. I do like my guy. A teensy bit.

Meanwhile, I get more and more hopeful as the days progress. I pray harder and harder that this is where God is leading me. Everytime I go to their offices, I see more an more where I could fit into their happy work environment.

Today, I went into my new job as store manager of the Shoe Store I shall not name.  It was our first day open for business since being built. I broke the news to my district manager about my  possible job at PD.
“WHY?!?!?” asked Derek.

  Because it was the HONEST thing to do. I have to think about my family. I have to raise my kids in an honest environment. Christ proclaims in the Bible to be fair to your employer as you’d be  fair as an employee. Honest wages, honest conversation, honest work.It would have been dishonest and unfair to not prepare my district manager for such a big change in the store so quickly after getting hired on. I told my dear new friend/district manager that within the next two weeks, there was a very real chance I could be accepted into the line of PD and I’d be leaving my brand spanking new position. Fortunately, since *no one* is trained as any particular  position yet, I can train my assistant manager  to step up in case the inevitable happens.

 I’ve noticed I’d gone from 500 readers a few months ago, to only about 100 regular readers.  That’s cool. I’m bored  with politics right now and I don’t have time to be humorous at this junction in my hectic schedule. Thanks to my loyal readers who still love the ever-busy me. We move into our new house  next Friday, Aidan’s cake demolishing party/1st birthday party will be next Sunday.
I might have a little bit of time to breathe between church and my 50 hour work week. If not, I’ll post pictures of my blue face to gain some readers back. Or suffocate. Whichever comes first….

EDIT!  Yeah, I time stamped this entry to make it look like I updated with something original, but I really didn’t. Actually, I just had to correct the mistake I made… I won’t be making 7 grand more a month. It’s 7 grand more a year…. You’d have all expected shiny presents if I was bringing home that kind of money, huh? As soon as I hear something, I’ll let you all know. Until then, I’ll be pulling twelve hour shifts. Miss me for a day or two! 

Holy crap, Xangan prayers  work like MAGIC!

I got a call from my favorite police department insider, (my beloved Morgie) who was at a supervisor’s meeting yesterday and spoke to one of the guys who interviewed me. She calls me up to say,

Morg: “Hey how do you think you did in your interview?”

Me:”Probably pretty lousy. I know I fudged a few times.”

Morg: “Are you sure?”

Turns out, I wasn’t their first choice… however, their first choice declined the job. The guy suggested that I  might be next in line.  So if you don’t believe in the power of prayer, you’re a puppy killer.  Or you just suck.  Or both.

 This job  pays 7 grand more a year and I’d have MUCH more time with my family. As it stands now, I’m scheduled for 14 solid days of 12 hour shifts.  I don’t like that very  much….

So KEEP PRAYING.

Thanks and love,

Life_by_us aka Amanda