Dr. Google

About a year and a half ago I made the transition from hospital nursing to office nursing.  Specifically from Labor and Delivery to an OB GYN office. My primary function is what you would call phone triage (i.e. I answer questions on the phone and decide if/when the patient needs to be seen or if the problem can be solved over the phone). p.s. that's just the tiny tip of the ice berg.  

Any how. Over the period of a few months I noticed that I got a large number of phone calls that started with the line "So, I was doing some research (on Google) and I think, based on my symptoms, that X  (insert anything you'd like here) is the root cause of all my problems (in life).  

I laughed it off the first few times because I used to do the same thing.  The difference being that I am an educated health care professional and the majority of the people I talk with are not. And that's great. 

No big deal.

 Over the next year it happened on a regular basis and it started driving me bananas!! (And not the good Bananas like my dear friend over at The Japing Ape). 

These are intelligent people who are convinced that they know more than a physician because they spent 15 minutes on some woman's blog from Arkansas who is convinced that all of her anecdotal information is true for everyone.  

Now. Partaking in the blogosphere (is that a real word?) as I do.  I realize that some people may take the musings of my brain... practice them in their own lives... and contrive some type of fact or insight (or pleasure) from the experience.  Let's face it, I have a few good ideas now and then ;)  That doesn't mean that my ideas have been studied, tested, and trialed by a large group of my peers who can determine that there's a correlation between what I've experienced and what most people will experience.  Then again, that's not always important when dealing with things like VIBRATORS. Of matters relating to infertility, hormone replacement therapy, contraception, irregular menses, and a whole slew of other such issues, peer reviewed information and evidenced based practice are important.

(I may be on a soap box here... feel free to stop reading at any point) (And if you're wondering... yes, the picture above is me. I've had a full facial reconstruction, boobs, lipo, collagen, extensions, bleaching (asshole and hair) and colored contacts) (NO not really). (I could add a few more parentheses here if you'd like).

You either make the decision when you go to a western doctor that you are going to subscribe to that brand of bullshit or you're not. For my sake though, if you're going to call and question every little thing that your doctor tells you because DR. GOOGLE told you otherwise... don't waste my time. Please.

With that said... if I like you, if you're family, if you pose an intelligent question... then of course I'm happy to listen=)

Thank you and good night!

Mistress (Nurse) Auri

Who Me? Couldn't Be! Then Who?

Although grammatically incorrect, the title of this post is catchy... no?

I was sitting at work the other night engaging in some lovely conversation with my fellow naughty nurses at ye ole nursing station and someone (they shall remain unnamed) mentions my alter-ego... Mistress Auri.

I think my 'Work Auri' / 'Mistress Auri' lines are blurring slightly. Okay, a lot. I think I'm getting quite the reputation at work for being the 'it' girl when it comes to matters of the... well, ya know.

I'm not saying there's anything wrong with this... I think it's great! But you have to imagine me sitting there giving advice on how to spruce up one's sex life to my 50 year old nursing friend who has always considered sex as nothing more than a tool for procreation (that's making babies for those of you who didn't do so well on your SAT's).

I couldn't tell if she was just trying to get me to say something trashy or if she really wanted advice at first. Then half way through I get the feeling that she's actually listening to me and all of a sudden I'm thinking "OH MY GOD... I've got to give this woman some real advice here... no pussyfooting around about it... that would defile my good name!" So there I am... 4 something in the wee small hours of the morning (because that's all we do as night nurses... sit around and talk about sex) going through the ABC's of Mistress Auri's How To Have a Better Sex Life (yours for only $49.95)... and amusing the hell out of everyone, I'm sure.

Hey... sex is important people! If you don't think it is then I want you to do something for me. Go get in your car, get on a plane, on the tube, and go to your mother's house. Ring her doorbell (or knock). Kiss her on the cheek to say hello (because we mustn't be rude) and then promptly slap her across the face and shit on her door mat. Yup. I said it.

SHIT ON YOUR MOTHER'S DOOR MAT.

Because if you say that sex is unimportant you are saying that you think your mother is an idiot for having birthed you. (And if you can't follow my logic I'm sorry... I jump from A to Q often round these parts... )

Now you don't want to shit on sweet old mum's door mat do you? Of course you don't because you're a good little blogger (I mean person) and you know that even though you and dear mum have had your differences, ultimately she's probably a pretty good woman with some pretty good points and really you do love her.

That is unless your mom sucks... and then I'm sorry. We can't have it all can we?

I'm off point.

My point... aaaah, yes. I'm going to try not to be such a prude at work when it comes to talking about sex. Why should there be such a line between Work Auri and Mistress Auri? It's not like I have to talk to all of my patients about vibrators... I just don't need to get flustered when people mention my blog at work.

Alright then... maybe just a little prude? No? You guys are real sticklers, you know that!

But I love you...

Mistress A

Contradictions

I had to put up with 8 years of this horrible public speaker. Eight. Luckily I wasn't in public school at the time. But if I had been I would have dutifully zoned out along with everyone else. Because that's what you do if you don't want to listen to something. Today I read a note that came home with my second grader from his Principal:

"Random School" Parents,
Random School students will have the opportunity to watch President Obama's speech on Tuesday september 8th, live at 10:00 a.m., in the Multi-Purpose Room.

However, should you prefer your child not participate in this experience, e-mail (principal's email address) and your request will be honored.

Thank you,
Merry

Here's my response:

Hi Merry!
We absolutely love being apart of Random School. My son, Tristan, is in second grade in Ms. H's class. I know you only requested that people email you if they wish that their child not take part in the President's address to children but I thought I would write to express the other side of that. I can't recall a time all throughout my school age or within the last couple of decades when parents have been given the option to 'opt out' of having their children listen to the President speak on TV. I think the right to choose is a lovely thing but unfortunately in this case I feel like it shows our children that what their President has to say is not important. Has the outcry from parents been so severe that Random School felt it was necessary to follow this media fueled trend? I am just an equally concerned and curious parent and would like to know.

Aside from that... Thanks for all of your hard work! It's apparent in the teachers and our beautiful school what a great job you do around there! I have other friends with children in various charter schools and I have to say that I think ours is hands down the best;)
Take care,
Auri

I'm a Good Girl... Really!

Hello my lovelies. How are you out there? I was trying to think of something to write about today and nothing was coming to mind so I decided to just sit down and start writing... that works... right?
Last night at work was fun... busy, but a lot of fun. I work with a great group of people. I was having a conversation with the girls about a subject I happen to be pretty passionate about and everyone was really surprised and how worked up I could get. I guess the point is I'm a fairly laid back person the majority of the time.

Really.
(don't laugh, it's not polite and I know your mother taught you better manners than that)

But there are a few things I feel strongly about and I'm not afraid to argue my point. That doesn't mean I'm a bulldog about issues I know nothing about. That drives me crazy. Do your damn homework if you're going to belittle me! Have you ever been in an argument with someone who fights just to fight? They have not a clue on god's green earth what the hell they're talking about but they'll argue to the death just to gain control over you. You know that's what it's about, right? Control. I usually let them win... it's not worth it to me. If they want control so badly they can have it.
I just had to laugh though because people don't often see that side of me, the 'business Auri' side, so when they do they're always surprised. I guess I'm a little surprised too. I'd love to think I'm the kind of person that can whip that side out regardless the opponent but there have been occasions where I'm blindsided and it's not until after a conversation that I wish I had said something differently or handled the situation with more balls. I'm sure most of us have been there.

Okay, I'll stop being completely vague. A new baby is a really important time in a person's life. Whether they are keeping that baby forever, placing them for adoption, or whether the baby is a stillborn, the birth of a baby is a monumental event. Some people just forget that after a while. They get complacent, lazy, and jaded. It spreads like the plague and it gets under my skin. I'll stop there. Believe me... the rant is long and not as exciting in type (one of those 'you had to be there' kind of things). I expect people to tell me if I'm being lazy... I honestly do, not just one of those people that says it and then gets pissed off.
I had a boss once with this cool plaque above her desk that read "assume good intent". I try to keep that in mind. I make mistakes (especially when it comes to failing to communicate little things), I know... you're all shocked=) And so I really assume that when other people are in a slump here and there it's because they're having an off day, as we all do. It's just when it happens all the time that I actually start to get upset.

I wouldn't want anyone leaving with the idea that I'm some kind of perfectionist here... hell no.

Okay... I'm rambling. Which is not always a bad thing. But now I have to get ready for another fabulous evening at work. Hopefully not quite as crazy as last night (seeing as how I delivered a baby in the emergency room last night).

I know that we aren't all so lucky to be able to make a living doing the things we love. I absolutely love what I do. I love bonding with my patients and getting to meet their new little babies. The people I work with are complex, intelligent, beautiful, and compassionate. I would not enjoy being at work for 36+ hours every week if I didn't work with such incredible people.

I hope you all get a chance to do what you love and you know what they say...

"If you can't be with the one you love baby, love the one you're with."

The Amazing, Tantalizing, Infuriating, Liberating, Vibrating, Flying Dildo... (as promised)

Okay... so I'm just warning you before you start this one... this is a true 'Mistress Auri' type of post. You'll be hearing lots of grown up words (as we call them in our house) and experiencing a very personal story from yours truly.

Duh.

Now that that's out of the way!
LET'S GET ON WITH THE GOOD SHIT!

You need a little history to appreciate my husband and I in the bedroom. We have a great sex life. My interests have changed over the years as far as foreplay are concerned but I've always remained open with him and communicated what I've needed
You should be impressed...

So... the only time I like him using his fingers for a little pre game warm up are when a) I'm drunk or b) I'm already warmed up. He knows this!

So... I wake up to him asking me to take the oldest to school because he's tired (and I'm not apparently)... okay fine... I'll be good because I want sex.
I come home and he's still sleeping (although in his defense he has folded a load of laundry in my absence...good man).

I climb into bed and the two youngest come down and knock on the door because they're hungry (I am slowly getting less and less interested in sex)

I get up from bed and figure I'll give them food... after all, that will buy us and extra 10 minutes and that means we may get to start of with a little oral sex for me... which is a fab way to start off the morning! (but again... why haven't they eaten in my absence? another unanswered question.)

Kids fed... but then my annoying female brain notices that the washing machine isn't going (I know... believe me... I'm annoying myself by now) and I start to get a little irritated that hubby didn't throw a load in when he took the other load out... because...

DUH...

THAT'S WHAT I WOULD HAVE DONE!

on to the dildo part...

I get back into bed... slip out of the robe. He's out of his clothes now too and what does he do?! He sticks his hand right between my legs! SORRY! I'm just not a light switch... I have more than two functions!

So I pull away a bit and he gets pissed off. He asks what I want (so thoughtful of him!)... to which I gracefully reply with the tone of a trucker in heat...
"get on top of me"

Well apparently that's when the shit hit the fan folks! Because at that moment... He jumped up out of bed and stormed off into the closet.

WHAT THE FUCK?!

Sitting there naked contemplating what just happened...
out of nowhere...

a large, flesh colored, veiny, supple, dildo comes flying out of the walk-in closet towards me on the bed narrowly missing my head as my husband is exclaiming
"Here! Use this! It's obvious you just want a dick to rub up against anyway!"

Well excuse the flying (dildo) fuck out of me!! I gathered the sheets up around me... slightly amused (thought I'd never admit that to him), horrified, pissed beyond recognition, and grabbed the very perfect (yes ladies... very perfect) dildo firmly in my right hand, gripped tightly and screamed and the top of my lungs... "That was rude! Don't you ever fucking do that again!" And with an extra squeeze to my good buddy whom I don't normally throw anywhere... I tossed that sonofabitch back into the closet with the intention of seriously maiming anyone/thing that it came in contact with. I'm sure that I'll be getting a call from the fast pitch coach any day now... they had to have heard that pitch at least 50 miles away.

Well... what came after is neither very exciting... nor really any of your business...
(yet somehow that all was... )
Suffice it to say that I am sitting here with my fab hubby writing this and I told him that I would be.
He though it was a lovely idea...

To bring the story back around. I went back in the closet later that day to collect my large friend and put him back in his house... couldn't find him. Didn't feel like asking hubby where he was yet. Oh well... I'd find him someday (or someone would...)

YAH...

YESTERDAY!
Sitting there folding laundry on the bed with the entire family... my middle guy, Aidan, comes walking up to the bed from the closet holding what?

OH LORD... NO... PLEASE...

Yes... just when you thought the story couldn't get any worse. He found it. He was swinging it around. He's like "what's this guys"... with a completely straight face my hub was like "it's a fake penis... what's it look like."

Now he won't stop asking about the thing. I paid $70 god damned for that thing and now after one awful week of bad luck with it I don't think I'll touch it again...

I need a nap

And maybe some Xanax

Ra Ra Rosie, aka 'Off with the Pantyhose', aka not the flying dildo story...yet

Oh my Gawwwd I'm tired! I can have the best day at work but as long as that last 2 hours out of 12 is busy... the whole God Loving day is crazy as far as I'm concerned.
(just in case you were wondering...)
(because I know as a concerned reader you were)

Whew!

Can't wait to wake up at 0600... along with the birdies... (because they're up at the butt crack o' dawn these days) and start it all over again. Babies to be born... prego ladies to be triaged.

So. Why Rosie you ask?
(and yes... that's Rosie the Riveter... just Norman Rockwell's version)

Why not!

Because as I was sitting on the pot... where I have many of my fabulous thoughts... as I am sometimes alone and can actually have a silent thought for myself without interruption...
most of us women are kind of the embodiment of Rosie these days. We dig work. We may bitch and moan that we'd rather not work... or work less. But there's something kind of gratifying in a lot of the work that we do.

Okay... I might not reach everyone here. And I'm still absolutely butt ass crazy jealous of my sister in law who somehow gets to stay home with her 1 child! YES, 1, child. I'm trying to be happy for her. But underneath I wonder why I'm jealous...I don't want to stay home!
It's hard work!
Rosie had it right man... throw away the pantyhose...
okay... there's obviously a happy medium here. I'd rather not be working 36-40 hours a week... but there are a lot more people in this country working a hell of a lot more hours than that with more kids than me.
Anyway...
I have fun at work when I feel like I'm getting all of my shit done. When you've constantly got this looming feeling of impending doom and litigation over your head you get a bit OCD when it comes to charting and policies. I think that's where the terms 'work Auri' and 'play Auri' came about... because I'd rather be digging in the dirt at home and I have to compartmentalize the 'crazy' me that work brings out.

So... you all are wondering where the flying dildo story is aren't you?!

Hmmm... I'm wondering if that deserves its own post...
tomorrow...=)
xoxo
aurs

Online Dating...

After the dickhead that Ms. Salti just had to put up with I don't know how those of you out there do it... online dating...

Man... I thought old fashion dating was hard...

If you haven't heard the story yet... go read it.
Anyway, there are creeps everywhere. Men. Women. Doesn't matter. I think being a creep is an equal opportunity type of thing. Maybe because I think I've been on both sides of the coin. I wasn't ever one just for fun. But I was definitely a tease back when I didn't realize it wasn't a very nice thing to do.

I was confused. Sue me.

And maybe picking people up in a bar or in person is just as tough for some people as online dating is? I don't know... I tend to have a better sense for what people are going to be like in person. Whether I chose to listen to that sense or not was a different matter. Sometimes they were just too hot...
or their lips were too kissable...
or they had bedroom eyes...
or they smelled really good...

(is it hot in here?)

I digress...
Anyway... I'm getting frustrated for Erica. And I'm getting more than a little pissed off at the male population that seems to be lurking on these online dating sites. I'm sure there are plenty of great guys on them too... but for some reason she's getting more than her fare share of the assholes.
So how do all of those happy couples on the commercials meet? Do they have rules on the sites? Can you submit complaints when they keep sending you people that don't 'match' you? I don't know... all seems a little sketchy...
And... THEY'RE FREAKING EXPENSIVE! Wow! Why didn't I think of that idea first? Maybe I'll suggest she do that dinner thing.
At least she'd get a nice meal out of the thing.
Hmmm... wait a minute...

the wheels are turning...

maybe I'll start a dating service? A sex toy party/dinner dating service. Doesn't that sound like fun?
Yah, come to a nice restaurant for a great dinner. Be entertained by moi (and hubby) who would be selling toys... maybe... at some dinners, at others maybe we just do wine tastings... then get to meet new people.
AND... we would have people there who would all be compatible with each other in several ways.
Hmmm... could work.
Don't steal my idea. When I'm tired of nursing I might just do it=)
Well... I'm rambling now... good luck to my single friends out there. I love you all.
aurs

Don't even know how to label this one

I have to say I've not been a fan of TV lately... even the shows I couldn't live without just a short time ago I've kind of just forgotten about. So today I sat down and started flipping through channels and the only thing on was Ellen. I love Ellen. She's hot, funny, smart... I'm totally jealous of Portia (they're still married, right?!)... anyway... just thought I'd throw that in there. Love ya Ellen.

As you have probably gathered from Miss Salti... it's rainin' here in the land of the Salty lake. Yep... A LOT! Thank Jebus I have a sump pump down stairs. You ask yourself "what's a sump pump?"... well my love... a sump pump is this lovely thing that sucks water up from where it shouldn't be and puts it where you want it. In my case the ground water is really high where we live. So the people before us dug out a place in the basement (a bit more advanced than that ) and it pumps the water out to the street so our basement doesn't flood. Very nice!
Anyway... I love the rain. Doesn't do much for my motivation. Granted my kids don't do a whole lot for the motivation! I think their main goals in life are to make the biggest messes possible and to break as many things as they can in under 30 seconds. Seriously. I'm not exaggerating.
Oh yah... and did I mention that even though I love the rain it's made utterly impossible for my carpet to dry out from the grey water flood we had... yah... which brings me to my next picture...

This would definitely be the coolest place for a cat to take a potty break. I would fix my cat a steak dinner every night if it learned how to do this. However. I had a cat that I cherished as one of my own children since junior year in high school... yah folks, that was back in 96-97. And just last year he gets old (or upset, can't be sure which) and decides to start peeing EVERYWHERE! Everywhere there's carpet that is. Upstairs in the boys room. Downstairs in Taryn's room, downstairs in my closet, in the closet under the stairs... yada, yada, yada.

Scuff is no longer around... and don't even get me started or I won't be able to stop crying for a month... but we were just starting to get rid of the smell of pee before this flood happened... so what does that mean? It means the smell has returned with a vengeance! AAAAAAAAAHH!! And now in addition to that smell there's also that smell of wet carpet. I feel like I'm stuck in some strange rerun of the twilight zone... quick... someone rescue me.
Okay... I need to stop boobing... but it's been crazy.
So, yah. Hope you all have had a lovely week. Hahaha... Or at least one not filled with the smell of mildew and cat pee!

I love my Burt's

I love my Burt's Bees. That fabulous familiar tingle on my lips that tells me nothing but all natural loveliness is starting to soothe my aching lips. Well, apparently my little demons love it too... but they have different plans for my Burt's... I have gone through no less than
6
Yes, 6, in the last year alone. Have I finished any of those? No! Because they've eaten them all! And what does a mama bear do when she's threatened...

Yes, I've growled... A LOT... I thought I finally had one that I was keeping pretty good tabs on.
UNTIL TODAY! Good Lord people! I was just tucking them in and the littlest thief grabs it out of my pocket and voila... half an hour later a half eaten stick is returned to me. So, now instead of growling... I resort to tantrum blogging...
Thanks for indulging me.

Now what?!

I apologize that this isn't the best image... but what else am I supposed to do? It's not actually a published book! So... being restricted by hubby from buying Breaking Dawn until Friday... I've had to fill my void with reading the online copy of Midnight Sun on Stephenie Meyer's site. I finished that this morning and am now left (once again) with a void. Hmph! I read the post she left on the site about her feelings regarding finishing the book and I'm torn... as I'm sure most of her fans are... Although as an artiste I can understand that her work must be very personal and vulnerable to her, I also feel a bit jaded by our current "entertainment" climate, if you will. Let me explain. How many times a day do you hear stories of stars going into rehab, or flashing their 'sharon stone' at the camera? Ooops, I did it again? I doubt it. Seems to be that any publicity is good publicity these days. So there is part of me that feels like this is an attempt at some hardcore publicity. Just the jaded side of me speaking... keep that in mind. Either way... I really enjoyed reading the draft from Edward's point of view. I love when she writes as him... I just flows so effortlessly. If you haven't read it yet... and you consider yourself a fan of the series... I suggest you do. You'll find yourself as sad as I did when it comes to an abrupt end at page 264. Oh well. That's life.
My faithful kitty, Jack, is perched above me on the arm of the love seat. He just sighed at the end of that sentence, leaving me to believe... once and for all... that he truly does understand what I'm saying. He's a good kitty. He understands my need... my void... haha!
Well, off I go. Have a lovely morning=)

RIP Blog Awards

Okay... now I know... without a doubt... that I might piss a couple of people off here. Sorry... my blog. I suck at journaling... so this is my outlet. When I first started seeing these blog awards they seemed pretty cool. Something kind of exclusive. And perhaps several months ago they were. But like most good things on the Internet... people go crazy with it and it just gets a bit much.

The catch is they always come up with these cute little icons that you get to proudly post on your blog. But then what comes next??!! Oh, you have to send it off to 5-15 more of your closest friends so they get to do the same thing. (okay... I know you're all annoyed with me right now...again, I apologize)

See... it's like this cute lady here. "oh my God! Just got an award for being the 100,000,000,000,000 person to eat a hamburger at McD's. OMG!! What she doesn't know is that she was one of 1,000,000,000,000 people that actually got that award in each state and country throughout the world. Okay, so the story is not really true... but you get my point.

I'm all for commending people on their clever blogs... their uniqueness... their take on the world...etc,etc,etc. But come on people... let's just find a new way to do it? Whatdya say?

I'll start... CleverGirlGoesBlog absolutely makes me laugh uncontrollably every time I read her. I love the way she writes letters to everything... and though I am tempted to steal that idea from time to time... I guess I'll just leave it to her=)

oh ya... and thanks to my HLP for all the blog awards... I know you're just trying to make me feel special=) And I love you for it!!

I'm an idiot

Yah... I am. Just locked the keys in the car... and it's snowing... and Trent has to get to school... and we just spent $150 on a roto rooter yesterday so I don't feel like shelling it out for a locksmith too. Did I mention I have a headache to top it off? Wow... what a morning eh? Started out alright... lots of beautiful powder outside... got Tristan to school in one piece. Such is life. Oh well. Not the end of the earth right? I promise I'll blog about something interesting soon. I actually attempted to load some videos on Youtube yesterday and add them to my blog but it's being weird. I lost interest quickly... but I promise the creative juices are flowing. Hope you're all having a fabulous... drama-free... morning.
xoxo
Mistress A
Good news update! The locksmith is already here=) Wow... what service. Guess the morning's not lost after all. Ok, Ok... I'll stop bitching and moaning and get on being productive.

Swing Vote

Trent brought home the movie Swing Vote the other day and I vaguely remembered seeing the trailers for it several months ago. He watched it last night and couldn't stop talking about it. He was like "You HAVE to watch this!" So... I distracted the kids for a bit and put it on. Great movie about this deadbeat dad whose daughter is more interested in voting than he is. One thing leads to another and the entire presidential outcome winds up on his shoulders. Seems like a very unbelievable story... but the real message here was more about the importance of voting regardless what your thoughts are of the process behind it.

After this last election I felt reaffirmed that my vote does matter. Even though I am living in what's considered a predominantly conservative state I feel that my voice was heard. I don't agree with the electoral college. Yes, I was taught all about it in college, and I think that once upon a time it had a need. However... as with many things... change occurs and change is needed. I'm not sure how little ole me would ever cause a change there... but I guess it all starts with voicing my opinion and writing a letter. I'll get working on that ;)
Hope you rent it... hope you enjoy it!

Communication

What a concept... I know.

Did you know that when a hospital has an adverse event they do this thing called a root cause analysis. They want to know why it happened and find out what they can do to prevent it next time. 72% of all major events in hospitals are caused by communication errors! Good lord! Why can't we fucking communicate? Even if it's to say "I don't want to be with you anymore" or "all I want is a one night stand" or "this is my land, not yours or ours, get the fuck off." Seems legitimate to me. Why is it so hard? I'm not excluded from this rant. There are some days where I absolutely have no desire to communicate. I expect everyone to know why I'm in a bad mood and to know exactly what to do about it. Animals aren't like this. A rattlesnake is frightened of being eaten, it rattles at you. Cats get pissed off, they hiss. A dog doesn't want to be kissed or have you rub his tummy, he growls and tries to bite your hand off (but we still love him). So why, as human beings, can't we just communicate our feeling with one another? We are taught from such a young age to be nice to our elders. Share with the other kids. Don't correct adults. Good girls don't ask for sex. No wonder we're all miscommunicating! The burdens of being upright... more like the burdens of being uptight and dishonest!

If I want sex I'm going to ask for it! If I want to flirt I'm going to flirt! And we can change our minds from one second to the next but we should feel comfortable in communicating that, for some unknown reason, we have changed our minds again.

Okay. I can handle that.

Another one of those difficult lessons I learned from my Dad. I didn't want to be at a party he had here at the house. I don't know why really... I just wasn't feeling it. But instead of just saying that (for fear of hurting his feelings) I just took off. Well. that lack of communication hurt him far more than anything I could have said.

It seems that as women we often over-think situations as well. So when we're hot and heavy in a new relationship we associate that as the status quo. When things cool down a bit, without said communication, we analyze and assume that something must be wrong. We begin to act strangely, defensively. We begin to communicate less for fear that we'll be hurt. And who wants to be hurt first? I don't... I'll be honest.

God what a mess.

Where is this going? I don't know. Communicate, for the love of God! Please. Even if it hurts. Even if it's embarrassing. Even if it's inconvenient. Just communicate. I promise I'll try harder. And I recognize that not everyone around me is at the same point as me... so it might not always work out so well. But I'm still going to do it...

This is not a New Year post...

I'm not sure what it is... but it won't be filled with resolutions and epiphanum. Sorry. This year has been wonderful and difficult as I'm sure every year will be for the rest of my life. Many lessons I've learned I don't really care to share... although I guess that's what we're supposed to do as bloggers... so maybe a top ten list? Sure, why not?

My Random Top 10

10. 3 kids is a lot... A lot of joy, mess, mental breakdowns, laughs, responsibility, diapers...

9. My parents are really cool... Mom ran her first marathon at 54 and is my idol. Dad travels the world, meets extraoridinary people, eats incredible food, and teaches me difficult lessons that most of the time I would prefer not to learn=)

8. Took a cut in pay to do what I wanted and decrease the stress in my life

7. Love is always available when you're open to it

6. First time driving long distance by myself with the kids. It was empowering. I realized that I'm pretty co-dependant in a lot of areas in my life. This was one area where I decided to take that control back. We had a great time.


5. Went to Vegas without the husband or kids... I haven't taken a trip without them for 7 years... it was long overdue and refreshing. I've heard people talk about losing their identity before. Trips like that help me find myself again.

4. I don't need to win the popularity contest.


3. Erica is just as much a part of my family as Trent or my kids. I'd be lost without her in my life.
2. I no longer need other people's definitions of what's right or normal to feel fulfilled.

1. I'm working hard to be thankful for each day because I realize that I have a charmed life. Not easy, not incredibly hard, but good. And right now, I think that's enough...

Bastards of Emotions

Have you ever found yourself saying "I'm too old to be going through this?"

If not, thanks for your time... you can quit reading now.

If you've found these words milling around in your head, you may continue reading...

Recently I've found myself having emotions that cause me to say... "I'm too old to be going through this"

I realize that I may not be 65 years old, but when it comes to matters of life experience, I've had my fair share and there are certain emotions which I thought I had left behind in High School. Apparently not. It's unsettling on some level I guess because I tend to go through an experience and attempt to learn something from it. If I was an obsessive idiot during one relationship I really worked on being present and accepting during the next. I hate to use the analogy but it's like a zit. The majority of us had to deal with them on some level during puberty. That should have been enough. But lo and behold even my parents are still plagued by the little bastards! And little bastards they are (zits, not my parents). Along with the little bastards of emotion that have been popping back up for me!

BASTARDS!

That felt good=) Thanks for indulging me. I guess part of maturing emotionally (for me) will be realizing that any and all emotions can be experienced at any time during life depending on what situations we find ourselves in. That will be a hard pill for me to swallow... a difficult lesson to learn. I'm trying desperately to not have a breakdown over it. Apparently there are still emotions I have yet to master...

Til next time...

Auri

aka Mom, Wife, lover, sister, friend, daughter, HLP, queen of the broken heart, not-so-master of my emotions, slightly on edge, always grounded, forever yours

What Happened to Free Agency?

Growing up in the LDS church I remember sitting there in Sunday School learning that we were so lucky because Jesus died for us so that we could choose the right life and return to heaven some day. I also remember learning that that difference between Christ's plan and Satan's plan was that Satan didn't want to give people a choice to choose between right and wrong and Christ wanted them to have that choice...
Stick with me... this is going somewhere...
So in light of Proposition 8, and the morals I was brought up with... I don't understand how the Mormon church would get behind something that comes right out and takes away people's free agency? Can someone explain that to me? Please?! Here I've been defending the church for years (not that I've been going for years) telling people that I had a good experience growing up in the church and that I never experienced the heartache and hatred that so many have. But this was it for me. Believe me it's been sickening... this is not the church I grew up with. Period the end. Perhaps it's the same church that some of you grew up with, and that thought makes me sick too.
I'm let down.
I'm disappointed.
I'm sad.
I'm upset.
I'm enraged.
I am so sorry that it has taken me so long to see what the real agenda was all along.
I feel betrayed.
It wasn't so long ago that members of the LDS church were being dragged from their homes, tarred and feathered. It was not so long ago that their leaders were being tortured and killed for their beliefs.
Was there nothing better to spend your money on? Was there no other cause worth fighting for? Are there no hungry children sleeping outside tonight? Are there no more people dying with AIDS?
I am sorry that I ever defended that church.
I'm sorry to my father for believing in something that so openly hurt him.
And I am sorry for those of you that have to be associated with the church currently because I know that not all of you would choose to take away someones free agency.