Cash for Clunkers

Sounds like a nice idea doesn't it? But think about it. The government is giving up to $4,500 for your old car if you trade it in for a brand new one with better gas mileage. A Tax payer sponsored rebate program, touted as being good for the economy and ecology. That is debatable at best!

If you like this sort of thing, you'll be happy to learn that the House just approved another $2 billion for this program...just today! I wonder how much we've already spent on this?

The program has been going bust, and was running out of money. Auto dealers claim they've been submitting claims for these rebates and their claims are being rejected. Nice little bait and switch for the auto consumer indeed! "We'll give you money to buy a new car." The consumer goes out and buys (and in all probability takes a loan with one of the recently government bailed out banks...more tax payer money). Then the government fails to uphold the rebate they promised.

some lawmakers complained that many dealers were left to contend with a
chaotic government-run program.
"The federal government can't process a simple rebate. I've got dealers who have submitted the paperwork three times and have gotten three rejections," said Rep. Pete Hoekstra, R-Mich. "What is a dealer supposed to do?"

A month ago my dh and I read an article in some "green" magazine (which he picked up while riding the metro) which actually claimed that driving your old car for as long as possible is more green and ecological than buying a new car. Why? Well, because that car was already manufactured, shipped, and in circulation. It's using what you already have. This plan is also fiscally prudent, as it's also cheaper to fix an old car than to buy a new one (in most cases I'm sure). It's not green to trash compact a bunch of old cars just to make room for more cars. That only fills up the dumps and landfills faster, right? So is this Cash for Clunkers program really supporting ecologically sound ideology? I'm not convinced.

Meanwhile, the moment a new car is driven off the lot is looses value exponentially! What a poor investment of our tax money indeed! I want my $4K back! Because I'm fairly certain I could pick up a sweet used car for about $4,500 instead...come to think of it we could use that for a small commuter car for DH come this fall when it starts to snow and rain and keeps him from riding his motorcycle to work.

Wait...whose money was this in the first place? That's right, our tax dollars hard at work for who? Why? We're paying ourselves to buy brand new cars. The government is just making it "look like" a gift. Don't kid yourself, it's your own money you're trying to get back from the government rebate, cash for clunkers program. Great if you were going to buy a new car anyhow, I suppose.

Smoke and mirrors...smoke and mirrors!

Usurping the term pro-life?

The other day I read a quote from by John P. Holdren, director of the White House Office of Science and Technology Policy, in an article written by Terence P. Jeffrey.

“The fetus, given the opportunity to develop properly before birth, and
given the essential early socializing experiences and sufficient nourishing
food during the crucial early years after birth, will ultimately develop
into a human being,”

A fellow blogger commented on this in her blog and I was horrified to hear this important Presidential advisor had such a twisted view of the humanity of (not just the unborn but) infants and children.

Finally, today I had a moment to read the rest of the article from which this quote originated. There were many other quotes from Mr. Holdren that were even more troublesome than the first.

"Most humans aspire to greater material prosperity, but the number of people
that can be supported on Earth if everyone is rich is even smaller than if
everyone is poor.”

And

“On the other hand, it subsequently makes a great deal of difference to the
child if an abortion is denied, and the mother, contrary to her wishes, is
forced to devote her body and life to the production and care of the
child."

Then I read a very similar sentiment from an acquaintance on Facebook yesterday (which almost sent me scrambling for the "delete" connection button because reading such a statement from a supposed friend is more disturbing than I care to deal with on a day to day basis). The argument that it's more "humane" to kill our unwanted children then allow them to live in poverty, ect, ect is pushing hard in our current culture and legislature. Of course those folks tend to avoid the terms "baby" and "kill", instead opting for less sentimental terms as "fetus" and "choice". They don't want to talk about the procedure, or what harm it does, or the ultrasound pictures of fetuses reactions to being aborted (better to keep those screams silent). The "Choice" side is even trying to usurp the term pro-life by claiming they're the ones who are really for "life," or quality of life as it were.

Then the mud slinging begins and it's one side calling out the other for being hypocrites, because in general pro-lifers tend to be fiscally conservative too (not all, but just in general, so things get generalized). So now the "pro-lifers" are getting the wagging finger of accusation for refusing to fund the other's side's idea of quality life stuff, because the trend from the left is that more money (more taxes) will fix everything. (My Facebook acquaintance even went so far as to suggest pro-lifers change their name to pro-birthers.)

Of course the quality-of-life-choice folks occasionally seem to realize that there's not enough money to do all they feel equates to "quality" life for everyone...and when whining for more taxation of the rich doesn't pay out...then it's back to "we must control our population...(and kill the kids off) so we can all have more of what we want.

I'm getting a bit sick of this argument. It's selfish and disgusting. Although, this plan hasn't been proven successful either. How much wealth do we rob ourselves of when we rid ourselves of our children?...just a thought. What joy we deny ourselves when we refuse to have them! Yes, raising children is hard work, but oh the lessons we can learn, and the maturity it brings us!

Life is about living and learning folks. Life is not a guaranteed cake walk! Suffering can be the most exquisite parts of life we'll ever know. And it's not always going to be easy, and it's not suppose to be either. I was never more acutely aware of how lucky I was to be alive then when I was in pain for days. I was scared while sitting in a hospital bed and I spent a lot of time in reflection when I was diagnosed with my blood clot last year. Before I knew enough about my condition to no longer be afraid, I was very scared of loosing my liver, and thus loosing my life. Because of the pain I appreciate my life even more having been reminded of how precious each moment is. Life is a gift which our founding fathers acknowledged to come from God.

I'm not sure if I was planned by my parents, but I know that I was planned by God. I also know that even the meekest of this earth are also wanted, loved, and planned by God. Many times I read reports from missionaries who describe the shear joy from people who are among some of the poorest of this earth. That sort of materialistic poverty begets a sort of enrichment most of us in the U.S. could never understand. Now, I'm not saying all the poor are always happy. Starvation is very painful and horrible to endure...and that's probably best left for another post, some other time... but I am saying that we can't assume that being poor is worse than death. Just who do we think we are to say such a thing!?! And who are we to make that decision for them?

And so I feel the same for the unborn. We have no right to cut life from the womb. We have no right to determine who should live and who should die. If human kind feels it's better to die then to ever have to suffer from "life" then we will not have progressed, rather we will have regressed. I fear we will surely start to slip down the other side of our own bell curve.

A blog from Mr. Angoraknitter

Hey everybody. I'm writing because I have to. No really - it's a requirement for the Army Command and General Staff College, the school I'm in right now. I'm supposed to say that these are my opinions, not the opinions of the Army or the DoD. (You'd've probably figured that out anyway.) Since I don't have a blog of my own, I have to do what I did in high school when I didn't have a car - bum a ride with my girlfriend! Hey, its a technique. Unfortuately, I'm terrible at blogging. Probably because I suck at keeping in touch with anyone and I'm even worse at keeping a diary. Mrs. Angoraknitter, on the other hand, does well at both and so has a natural disposition for blogging excellence. My excuse is that it runs in the family. My Dad has completely sworn off social media. He refuses to read or write blogs - he'd rather sit down at his rolltop desk and hand write you a letter on lined yellow paper (but he doesn't really do that much, either). The other day my sister-in-law sent me a Facebook "friend suggestion" for my brother (we'll call him "Dave"). Mind you, "Dave" didn't just send a friend request himself. Well I blew it off cuz I haven't been to Facebook in like two months, so why start now? Besides, facebook works both ways, right? So maybe "Dave" should just friend request me. The phone is supposed to work both ways too, but it doesn't really in my family. Dad half-chided me the other day for not telling my sister about our newest baby on the way. Course, its not like she ever calls me. So to make right, I called her, but got her voicemail - just like I always do. Usually it takes about 3 or 4 times to get through. Say la vive. Good thing we all still love each other.

Anywho, Mrs. Angoraknitter says I'm supposed to write something substinative on her blog. Oh, phooey. Is there anything particularly interesting going on right now? At a certain point in my military career I got to swallow the red pill and see things as they really are (sort of). It's nicer in the unclassified blue pill world, where you only read about the CIA in the newspaper when they screw something up. I have to assume that there's a hidden hand behind all the headlines - its the paranoia induced by having a high level clearance. But I can't really confirm anything until I get somewhere I have access to JWICS. The good old Joint Worldwide Intelligence Computer System - sort of like the Top Secret internet. Learn all kinds of fun things there. Especially on Intelpedia. Oh yeah, there's an intelpedia, since obviously wikipedia isn't classified Top Secret. And the intelpedia is updated by "intelpedians" with usernames like "SithDarkLord" and "Gandolf the second" who sprinkle their articles about Special Mission Units that officially don't exist with tips on World of Warcraft. I [stuff] you not. Don't laugh - these are the people tracking down terrorists and keeping you safe at night. Not Jack Bauer. I can't really complain, though. I'm just as big a nerd. I finally came to grips with that reality a while ago when I saw a bumper sticker that said "Jesus saves...and takes half damage" and I actually knew what it meant. If you don't get it, then don't worry - it means you're normal. I'd better stop now before I give away any more national secrets and Delta Force commandoes come smashing through the windows to arrest me in the middle of the night (that'd really piss off the Mrs., especially if they made a mess coming in). And anyway, I wouldn't want poor SithDarkLord to be outed in a Robert Novak column or anything like that. So, hopefully, the Command and General Staff College people are satisfied and I didn't sully this fine blog too terribly much in the process. Good night.

P.S. Be sure to check out the video of Daughter Angoraknitter's award-winning ice skating routine. I don't think I've ever gotten first place in anything, much less on the first time out. She must get that from her mother. 2018 Olypmics - here we come!

This is why I DO NOT support FOCA

I don't think doctors and medical personal should be forced to participate in abortions. And I'm sick of those who say, that's not going to happen...because...guess what! It already has!

I was afraid a scenario like this would happen soon. Just because I hold a nursing licence doesn't mean I should be forced to check my beliefs at the door. I have no right to impose them upon anyone else, but in turn the same right needs to be applied towards my beliefs. Nurses who morally object to abortions should not be forced to participate in them.

This nurse was wronged! Her supervisors should not have coerced her into assisting with an abortion procedure. She was coerced when they threatened her with patient abandonment. This is an offense that can take away your licence. They threatened her very livelihood!

Do you know what else? I've been thinking, if we are pushed into what will essentially become nationalized health care, doctors and nurses will loose a lot more than just money!

Obama looked to military health care and at one time held it up as an example of what we could all strive for. You do realized the men and women who run military facilities are (usually) active duty military members. They are order bound to work day and night, above and beyond the typical shift numbers and durations (if need be). They have no choice in the matter. I've seen them overworked and heavily burdened by their caseloads. I would not want to be an army nurse, because they are practically slaves to the system. No Thanks! It's not good for doctors and nurses (who are people too!) and worn out care gives are not good for patients either.

Out of the Mouths of babes

My daughter walks into her father's study to find him ogling over the newest release of Harley Davidson Motorcycles.

Daughter: "Daddy, what are you doing, you're suppose to be studying?"

Father: "I'm looking at motorcycles. Do you think Mommy will let me have one of these."

Daughter: "No."

Father: "Why not?"

Daughter: "Because, she doesn't want you to die...but don't worry Daddy, maybe mommy will let you have one of those cars without a top."

A Year late and a Dollar short

Well, that's $29.99 dollars short when this latest check written is cashed.

Okay it's not a fortune, but it's the principle and the emotions it conjures up that is the problem. I received a bill in the mail from Stanford Medical Records department...from last year! When I had my surgery and subsequent re-hospitalization I had also requested my complete medical records from those visits so I could ensure the Military Treatment Facility, MTF, (which was tasked with following up on my care after I was discharged) would know what the heck I'd had done. Never mind, that items I requested were omitted. Never mind, that the records were no where near timely in their arrival. And never mind, that these request still did nothing for ensuring the continuity of my care...what a pipe dream that was!

But what you should be aware of is this:
Had I known to request the records through the MTF...or more likely if the MTF had requested them, there would be absolutely no charge at all. Please note, that the MTF never requested my records (yet the doctors DID ask me for them during appointments, and the subsequent ER visit when my blood clot was diagnosed). I had to get the records for them. Nobody knew how to submit the request. I had to download and print the request forms for the MTF, and take the request forms for the social worker in myself, and then I sat there and filled them out myself on their behalf, and got the fax numbers too! Because after all, it's my health I was concerned about.

In case you found that confusing, I'll simplify it: I am being charged $29.99 because I did the leg work myself. If I'd waited upon the case worker, or anyone else to do the leg work (which wasn't going to happen) then I wouldn't have been charged a penny!

Case in point, you get what you pay for folks! And if you want something done right, you've got to do it yourself!

Yippee!

Rant over.

Our first Contest

My husband decided this was indeed a family effort. Today we drove out to Wilmington to take our daughter to her first ice skating contest. A couple months ago I started to make her a dress, and beaded it, and a day ago I put some last finishing touches on it.

The distance to the rink was about 130 miles from our house, so we figured two hours would be enough travel time...wrong! East Coast Traffic!!!! We arrived with less than 20 minutes till the scheduled start of her event, to learn they were actually running about 15 minutes ahead. She missed her warm up because we were still in the dressing room trying to pull the curlers out of her hair. Thankfully, I'd gotten her tights, dress, and skates on while in the car (and carried her into the rink so she wouldn't wreck her blades).

Her coach quickly pulled her curls into low set pig tails, and then within 10 minutes all the other skaters had finished and our daughter took the ice.

And...she did rather well! Now, there were only three girls in her event, but her ordinals indicated that all the judges put her into first place. I hadn't really watched the other girls, as I'd been a bit nervous about coming so close to nearly missing the contest (especially after all the effort...and all the traffic)...so I was pretty surprised and pleased to see the results.

On the way home we stopped by a playground to let the kids play. Our other two children had behaved really well, so they needed a bit of a reward for being so patient during their sister's event. So after a bit my daughter runs up to us and declares that she had buried her medal and couldn't find it.

When asked what possessed her to bury her medal in the sand, she said, "I was pretending I was a pirate and wanted to bury my treasure."

I did quite a bit of digging, but quickly I formed the opinion that we should just leave it wherever it was, because it was lost due to a very silly action. My husband, however, went after this new issue with a vengeance. Somehow that medal meant more than just a little girl's winning moment. "No," he murmured, "we're not leaving here without that medal...we all worked too hard to get it."

I have to admit I was really surprised to see him going to town, digging up this playground with a metal rod/crank thing from the car jack. Somehow, for him, this had become personal. His persistence was surprising, but endearing to me, non-the-less.

Finally, it was found, much to every one's relief....I thought we were going to be there all night sifting though sand! Thankfully, the trip home went a lot smoother and all is quiet at the moment.

Brothers on the Road

While in Oregon, my Uncle drove through and stopped a bit to visit with his sister, my mom.

Two of my Uncles are truck drivers. You'd be surprised at how up much time these two spend learning. They work hard, and they maximize their time. As long as I can remember, my Uncle (the younger one who I actually lived with for a while after I graduated from college) has been listening to audio books during his drive time. Their minds are not idling, that's for sure! He was always encouraging me to keep improving myself.

So, the oldest drives a big rig up and down the Pacific coast, while the youngest drives a company truck delivering paint supplies to the South Pacific region.

One day, they were both merging onto a highway on/off ramp lane. One was trying to exit and the other trying to merge onto the highway. In an instant they were pacing for the same slot on the road, and glanced to see each other.

Later, they called each other to verify it was really their brother they just passed by.

I thought that was kind of a cute story...almost as cute as the time I was crossing the street on my way home from school. As I passed in front of a big truck, the horn went off, and I nearly lept out of my shoes with shock. My Uncle had sure caught me off guard!

I don't get to talk to my Uncles much at all. But this past week I spoke with both of them. Times are hard for the truck driver. While asking if there might be more jobs down South (for my brother who has been out of work for a long time) my one Uncle told me how there had been several lay offs within his company and of those folks none have found new jobs. That sure wasn't a promising outlook for our hometown economy.

My other Uncle told me that his truck is electronically monitored (federally regulated), and there are more and more laws and taxes that are making his job more and more difficult. He joked that his big rig is viewed by the state as a rolling ATM. I was shocked to learn that he would probably only get to take home about $460 in pay for one trip up the coast (probably about a weeks worth of work I'm guessing). A few weeks ago he made a very good run that garnered about $1500, and then the government took about 1/3 of the money out of his paycheck. He was pretty upset to see so much of his hard work taken away like that.

He commented that lots of folks get upset when they incorrectly assume that truckers don't pay taxes on the roads they use. That's simply not true! He has to pay a tax/fee for each state he drives through every year. It's sort of like having to license your vehicle in all the states you might go to each year. Oh, they pay all right!

Odds and Ends

I'm a paper editor now. My husband did so well on one of his last papers (which he had me edit) that now I've earned myself a new job. Seriously, I don't think my mind will go slothing this year.
*****************************
I can now clearly hear the baby's heart rate in the left quadrant just below my belly button...which means baby is in good position already. If you believe in the wives's tale about heart beat rate determining the sex of a baby, with an average of 140, it seems more likely we're having a girl. My son keeps insisting that babies are boys. He had it in his head that while I was away seeing my mother, that I was off having his little brother. I sure hope he won't be too disappointed if he ends up with another little sister. Further, I hope my husband won't be too upset if he has, yet another daughter. So my son was surprised when I came home and still hadn't had a baby. No matter how many times we explain to him that the baby isn't coming for a while longer, he still isn't grasping the concept. Though part of me was hoping for a little brother for my son too. We'll all just have to wait and see.

While on my trip I was asked numerous times if I knew what I was having. I don't need to remind you how internally annoying this question is to me. My mother mentioned that even she is asked this question quite often, and it seemed to annoy her too. I then started to think about it more and decided that perhaps if one was hoping for a particular sex...and learns during an ultrasound the baby is not as desired...that perhaps it may be more emotionally damaging than need be. Hear me out...

If you learn during the ultrasound that you are not having the baby you had hoped for, all you have in hand is a piece of paper with a blurry picture of your baby. Where's the comfort in knowing the sex of your child isn't what you had hoped for?

If however, you have just given birth, and you are filled with the endorphins from that all empowering event (unless you've been drugged out of this natural state) then you will be holding your precious baby. I doubt it would matter much at all what sex the baby turned out to be. It would seem to me that it would be much easier to readily except your baby, boy or girl, in that immediate post-partum state.

Thus the grieving and sorrow that is potentially spurred by an unfavorable ultrasound sex prediction is not worth the risk. I'd love to see someone study the psychological ill affects of ultrasounds for sex predictions. I know that babies can actually be aborted because ultrasounds reveal an unborn baby's sex is not what the parents desired.

So, no, I don't know what I'm having, and I never plan to find out till my baby is born. I never have done this, and I don't for see a reason to do so now. That's just how I view it...take it or leave it, but that's my view.

*************************************
Today the girls had a doctor's appointment for a well child check up. It went really well! I am, thus far, pleased with the doctor we chose. I'm also very grateful for this freedom. I really hope and pray the powers that be don't screw that up for us all.

**************************
My mom does seem to be doing a lot better. She had her first day back to work today and things went well. No more seizure symptoms. However, the experience has left us all with a lot to chew on, and a new look on how we need to make better strides towards preparing ourselves for the future.

*******************
While I was in Portland, I noticed a particular corner near my mother's house that almost always had a seemingly homeless person residing it. I noted that it seemed there was always a different person standing there as well. Mom told me that in Portland, there is actually an company who stations folks throughout the city for organized begging. At first all I could think was, "how entrepreneurial!" It was nearly amusing that they'd come up with this idea. Yet, it's a defining sign of our times. Portland is a beautify region...but there are so many things I find so disturbing when I visit there. I'm also told the drug problem is out of control in Portland. As I travel through the area, what I saw lead me to believe the rumors aren't just hear say. What a tragedy, and drugs bleed our nation and strip us of our prosperity in so many ways.

Taking that first flight

My first flight on an airplane was so exhilarating! When I was about 8 years old my mother took my brother and I on a flight from San Diego, to Denver, to Colorado Springs. I had a blast on the plane. Occasionally, throughout my youth and college years I would have occasion to fly, and usually I enjoyed the trips for the thrill of getting a birds eye view of the country.

I was scheduled to take my infant son on his first airplane trip to see my family on Sept. 15, 2001. As you might have imagined the images of Sept. 11, 2009 traumatized me with fears I never could have, nor would have imagined. What if we had been on one of those four doomed flights?

I never made our trip on Sept 15, 2001, and I've never considered air travel since.

Imagine my amusement when I'm sitting in the Southwest Airline gate and overhear a news report on CNN that a Southwest plane headed for Baltimore (where I was departing from) had suffered a hole in the cabin after a fuselage disturbance (or something like that) occurred during some loss of cabin pressure.

I called the hospital to check on my mom, just to be sure she hadn't made a miraculous recovery. Indeed she was doing just fine, but the nurse got confused as to which patient she was suppose to be talking about and told me how wonderfully my mother was doing on a medication, which she was not on (nor had any business being on). I was thus convinced that even with recovery signs present, I absolutely had to continue with my trip so I could be sure of the care my mother was receiving.

So I took my flight (which was on a plane that was late to depart because it didn't arrive on time...and the plane looked different from all the other planes coming and going out of the Southwest terminal). It didn't have the upturned tips on the wings.

I treated these first two flights (of the four I needed to complete in the week) as if I were going under general anesthesia for surgery. Indeed, I experiences many of the same emotions and it felt much the same to me for whatever reason. I boarded, and after a securing the first window seat I could find, shutting the window, I propped myself against a pillow and tried hard to fall asleep. During my very first flight, indeed, I did sleep through most of it. The second flight I could only sleep a little bit, and then pretended most of the flight to be asleep. I'm not much of a fan of sitting and chatting with strangers, especially ones who opt for alcohol during the flight.

Yesterday I completed my flights, and found the last two easier to handle than the first two. I was even able to spend a couple hours reading a book, and spent time looking out the window to examine the landscape. Utah has some interesting ground features and the city lights at night over the Eastern Atlantic are mesmerizing.

Still, I'm glad that's behind me and I'm sure that any flight I may take in the future will be looked upon with at least some trepidation...especially if I have to take the kids. Traveling with children (from observing those around me on my flights) still looks to be quite challenging, and I don't plan to do that for a long time to come.

Financial peace

I needed to find a book to help my mother understand my goals for financial management.
However, any of the books I was looking for could have easily cost around $20 each had I gone to a book store. And I was trying to do things in a way that would demonstrate absolute frugality. Running off to the mall to buy something to fix a problem...spending money...was not the message I was trying to send.

My husband suggested I walk across the street to the thrift store, because the type of book I was looking for is often found in plenty at such a shop. So I set out only hopeful that his prediction would be so.

Within one minute I found just the right book, and paid just a few dollars for it too!

So I've read the first five chapters of David Ramsey's Financial Peace Planner. I give it a two thumbs up!

Where's the mind?

I've been fearing for years that one day my mom would have to move in with us. Her retirement plan was to work till death. I'm pretty sure it's becoming an all too common plan these days too!

So I knew the day would come, every son-in-laws dream come true, no?

While my mom is about to move out of the ICU, she's not really acting like herself. It does not sound as if she's going to be able to live on her own, let alone go back to work...and I fear I'm going to have more than just the antics of a slightly autistic child on my hands. Indeed, there maybe something even worse than that. It was not a stroke, and for the moment it seems that she was in Status Epilepticus and has been having Complex Partial Seizures, which have now intensified. Much of what I'm reading doesn't sound encouraging.

So now I'm diving into looking at social security benefits for her, and anything else I can think of to get this...whatever we're going to need to do...done as soon and as smoothly as possible.

So I'm off to buy a plane ticket (oh boy, I really don't want to fly).

Hunting for Zebras

There's a saying in the medical field...

When you hear hoof steps think horses, not zebras.


But you know what!?! I always think zebras...and sometimes I'm right!

Today has been long and exhausting, and yet I can't seem to sleep. I started the day talking to a night shift, and I've gone through three different shifts...and I'm still awake. I need to sleep now, because I'm not really able to make any decisions (should I stay home and continue this phone call dance or jump on a plane and go meet these challenges in person).

I feel as if I should go, but know that it's easier for me to research things here where I'm at. So if I go, I'll loose the ability to really process what's going on (from a research side), but if I stay, I'll have a boots on the ground vantage point.

I also don't want to leave my kids, especially the littlest one. And I don't want to get on a plane (I've not flown since 2000). So I'm a little phobic, and my stomach is in knots. I hate neuro, it's almost as bad as psych, and it's beginning to look as if the two are converging, blah. Pray my mom snaps out of it by tomorrow!

introverts

I am an introvert. And so were my parents, and my sibling. I married a self professed introvert, who is still even less introverted than me, but compared to his peers, he is still considered "shy".

At least two of our children are introverted, and we have once social butterfly, who at times may revert back to being a bit shy...but usually she's far more extroverted than the rest of us (gets that from her Nana).

Perhaps we see things differently, but I'm kind of sick of the Extroverts getting to define what's "normal." Hey, we can't all be like you, and we don't all see things in the same way.

But since we're introverts, we're less likely to (be heard) saying anything in our defense. Because, we're also often the folks who tend to let things roll along, so as not to draw attention back to ourselves. So sometimes we don't say that we disagree. Often we stomach words that offend and spin us up, instead choosing to internalize them.

My husband is a lot better at this "water off the ducks back" stuff. I'm amazed how someone can have a totally opposite view, and even be antagonistic about it, or even insulting, and he can filter out the attitude and really consider their views. His views don't often change, but he picks and chooses when to defend his views in turn.

I on the other hand, have to do a lot more internalizing, and agonizing before I can see through all the....crap....before I can consider the opinion.

On a somewhat related note...shifting in subject just a tad here:

Once in a while something will happen, might not seem significant to anyone else, but I'll really be put off or taken back by it. Yesterday, I was talking to my mom's nurse yesterday (she's in the ICU right now) and the nurse wanted to know what my brother's status was...mentally.

Sure, he's not a nurse, or anything, and anyone is going to be at least semi-disturbed when witnessing the intubation and whirlwind of activity around a loved one while they are being worked on in the Emergency Department. But the nurses had mistook his introverted, quiet demeanor for mental insufficiency.

I quickly explained that, he wasn't incompetent at all, but just very introverted, quiet, and reserved. For the love of god don't assume he's a simpleton! He never loved school, but he could read (with his books upside down) without skipping a beat by the first grade (completing his part before the teacher would even notice the book didn't look right).

So I heard several upsetting things yesterday during my phone calls, but that the nurses had all assumed my brother was "not all there" was perhaps the most disturbing one. Because I also spent lots of time talking to my brother and I'm certain he's there all right!

Do you HAVE to deliver there?

No, you don't have to do anything...not really.

You probably won't believe me when I say I tend to avoid pregnant women. I know, last night, at a party I sort of went over and sat next to one on purpose. She was nice, but by the end of the evening I came to wish I hadn't done it.

Why is that? Well, I generally don't like to talk about my being pregnant with anyone let alone another pregnant women. Why? Well, I usually find myself getting disgusted rather quickly with the course of the "average" pregnancy related conversation.
Inevitably, those all too typical questions are addressed to me;
Who far along are you?
What week are you?
Do you know what you're having?
Are you going to have an epidural?
When is your scheduled induction (double icky!...this was the most common question at Fort Irwin because women wanted to know when not to schedule their appointment with the only OB on post...not if you were going to be taking up all his time that day)?

Thankfully, I've never really suffered the indignation of having someone touch my belly! But I do find it alarming when absolute strangers, who I've never spoken to, inquire as to when my baby is due. I always want to know why do they care? But I revert to being as vague as possible in my response.

I hold some very unconventional views on the subject. And while I really don't mind (not at all) if someone else holds conventional views, I find them disturbing and difficult to listen to. There's so much I wish I could say, but all too often, what I would have to say would very not likely be well received. I might hint at other options (hire a doula, consider a Le Leche meeting before your baby is born, or stay home as long as possible) but usually I exit the conversation feeling dread for the woman/ women I've been conversing.

Last night the conversation (with other local army spouses) veered towards the subject of where I was REQUIRED to deliver. Military women (both active duty and dependents) are all too often informed that they have no choice in the matter and that they MUST deliver at their local military treatment facility (MTF). I've been hearing this sort of conversation a lot lately. Our current local MTF seems to have a lot of negative (some down right horrible) reviews.

I've only delivered at a MTF once, and I don't ever plan to do so again. When my second baby was on the way I tried to receive a statement of non-availability, to be allowed to receive care and deliver at a civilian hospital (the one I worked at would have been preferable). Not too surprising my petition and follow up appeal were denied. So I paid out of pocket to be cared for by a midwife of my choosing and had my first homebirth.

I heard later that MTF's were required to allow women to go elsewhere, via some Congressional law that was passed sometime after my second child was born. Times and laws may have changed. As it seems that women are again being told they are only going to be allowed to birth at the MTF in our area. It may or may not be the truth, but either way...I have no stomach for this sort of conversation.

At least for the moment, there are other options. I still have to pay out of my own pocket, but it's absolutely worth it!

The Independence Day report

On Saturday, the Fourth of July, we went down the road to see the festivities at Mt. Vernon, the home of George Washington, our first president of the United States.

They had a band concert in front of the home, followed by daytime fireworks overlooking the Potomac river. My husband encouraged the children to sit down in front of the standing crowd so they could see better. After the brief sky smoke display, the crowds parted to reveal only two of our three children. Every parents worst nightmare commenced.

Thankfully, after tracking down a security guard and showing him a picture I'd just taken with my iPhone, he located another security guard who had found our child. Unfortunately, we were not the only parents to experienced child separation episodes. There was another family frantically searching for one of their sons at the same time, and when we left with our child, safely in tow, calls for this boy were still being made. I'm quickly starting to see the upside to child leashes.

We promptly went home and ordered I.D. bracelets (and necklaces) for the kids. Though a GPS tracking device is looking very tempting too.

Then, gluten for more punishment, we ventured out again to the metro, so we could see the National Fireworks on the Capital Mall. I didn't want to go, but my husband felt I could just stay home if I was too tired, I decided it would be better if I went since he was so set on going with or without me. Thanks to my Brother/ Sister-in-law we were able to slip into a nice spot, and enjoyed a couple hour wait till the big display, which started just as my husband had to usher two children to the port-a-potty, lucky man!

Once that was over, we waited a couple more hours for the crowd to die down enough so we could make our way back to the metro station. The metro is probably easily maneuvered by many folks. However, it's an absolutely terrifying place to go with children. It's certainly easier with more adult hand to hold, and less crowd to content with.

And I must also mention it's a lot more expensive for our family to ride the metro then to drive or own car. It cost us $30 to get to the mall that night. But a couple weeks ago it hardly cost $10 to drive down there to visit the Smithsonian ($4 parking, $2 or less in gas...). So, while the public transportation might still be a very valid form for an individual...I'm not convinced of it's a superior mode for families. And I feel our minivan is very efficient because I can transport far more people for less money, in less time too! My daughter also pointed out that the train didn't have any seat belts...or child safety seats. Which was the same argument I always had against school buses when I was a kid.

New woolie

Since my second child I've always had the desire to buy a fresh new woolie for each new baby. My first born did not get a woolie (probably couldn't have afforded one even if I'd known what I could have done with it anyway.) I love em though! They are water resistant, and natural, and don't retain smell from icky spills. The first two I bought were rather large pieces. And the girls still use them today as throw rugs in their room. I just shake them off or vacuum them once in a while...and every now and then (maybe once a year....or less) I wash it in wool wash and hang it to dry in the sun.

Thursday, at Ikea, I saw little woolies. They were a bit smaller and lighter than the other two, but for about 1/3 the price. And I thought I could put that in a car seat, or a stroller....or all sorts of places the baby might go. So the new baby has a woolie now too.

And my current baby is now in a big girl bed. A feat that was less than easy because we decided to turn an old yard sale find into a bed...the hard way. More on that later...or maybe not I'd rather forget all about that now.

Potty business

Yup, another post on broken toilets! Yes, it's true, every time I go into a bathroom there's something so it seems. I'm pretty sure there's a whole host of little odds and ends just on the brink of breaking here. But I'm not about to call the landlord over a broken toilet seat. I'm not responsible for rust damage finally taking it's toll. I just save the broken ones for them to deal with when we move out and we take our awesome new kid potty seats with us. Yeah! LOL ;) Besides this new seat is way more comfy!

A must see!

I found this video on Nursing Birth.

I'm not a witless cog

No, I thought of this an entire day before Rush Limbaugh came out with his hypothesis on our current President's long term ambitions. I was posing just last night that perhaps there was some other reason our White House is supporting the ousted dictator want-a-be from Honduras. My husband thought I was being silly, and as usual didn't think I had much of a case. "Good," I thought, I sure would hate to be right on this one.

Then, Rush Limbaugh comes out saying nearly the exact same things I said the night before...

So there you go, I'm not following Rush Limbaugh, blindly believing whatever he says. I think he's got my kitchen table wired tapped and is using my ideas for his show, lol. Because I assure you, I wondered about this first and all on my own! Why is there a group trying to change the 22nd amendment that restricts the number of terms a president can serve?

And why are we trying to twist Honduras' arm when they're simply protecting their Constitution? A coup is when a militant general and his army replace the standing government with said general. Honduras' army acted at the bequest of their government...and best I can tell, the army is not overthrowing the government, but upholding it. Something smells fishy to me!