Agh! I can’t beleive it has been one month since I have posted. I had hoped I would not have gone this long in between posts and so soon, oh my word! Ok so we will play a little catch up and cover three topics that I am sure could have been 3 separate posts on their own. But we’ve gotta make up for lost time so here we go.
The “C” Word
In the past month my mom has been diagnosed with uterine cancer, had surgery and is now recovering at my house. That is right the word no family ever wants to hear has been bouncing around the room like a big beach ball. Perhaps it has been bouncing around the room like a big pink elephant. Yeah that’s more like it. A big fat bomb that could turn out to ruin my home, my family, and my life or could just leave a big ass print on my living room floor. It is the sort of thing that you can’t decide exactly how to approach. Do you talk to this elephant head on and tell it to leave or do you ignore it or do you do subtle things like sneak up and poke it with a stick to get it to go away? My mom has decided to take the positive, inspiring attitude approach which I have to say I am happy she landed there. I on the other hand when given this information I decided to take the cynnical, “this sucks” attitude which I have to say I am glad I landed there. Having this attitude has really helped me. I know it sounds stupid but it is true. I have given myself permission to be pissed that my mom got cancer. I have given myself permission be crabby with the fact that my parents have to go through this. I have given myself permission to hate all this different things about it. I found myself loathing the idea of taking life as it comes and making lemonade out of lemons. Ya know sometimes lemonade is sour and bitter. What I really have found in this attitude is freedom. Freedom not to tell myself how I should feel about what is happening to my mom and my family. I don’t feel guilty about being pissy and mad. Cancer sucks and that is reality. Don’t get the idea that I am walking around like Eeyore’s rain cloud following my mom with doom and gloom. I have been very supportive of my mom’s positivity but I choose to hold my private attitude of suckiness and I think it has helped maintain my sanity.
Now this is not going to be an “I hate everything post” but stick with me and I promise there will be some merriment. But first, I hate clowns. This is not some ideal I ascribe to because mosts clowns are gross old men dressed up in kid friendly costumes only to woo and possibly touch children they don’t know, this is a deep seated childhood fear. Yes I have always been afraid of the big hair, big shoes guys. (No ones feet are that big!) As a child it also didn’t help that we had a very nice man who lived across the street that just so happened to be a Shriners Clown. Yes I beleive hysterics were involved when a clown got within 10 feet of me and that hysteria now accomanpies me into adulthood. Now lets get one thing clear, I do go to the circus and I do talk to the clowns with my son. I may not show my fear on the outside but the little girl inside is peeing her pants and hyperventilating. I can’t stand clowns. Did this thought occur to me when I was asked to head up the coordination of the Shriners Clinic at the pediatric office I work at? NO! I figured ok this is a good cause, it is something out of the ordinary and hey I get to be in charge, count me in! Until one day as I was working on the signs for the event and I put a clip art of a clown on the bottom right hand corner that probably real clowns would be there that day and they would probably be frighteningly close to my anti-clown bubble. AGHHHHH!!!!!!! I guess needless to say that when Friday came around and I was getting in the elevator to go to the third floor and a clown walked into the elevator I was less than impressed. In fact I was calculating how long it might take me to gnaw through the walls if heaven forbid we got stuck in there together. I bet under an hour, I guess we will never know. I had a really hard time disgusing my disgust for his squeeky nose that was falling off and the white make up that was cracking. Also why do clown outfits always have to look dirty? This costume has yet to entertain the insides of this guys washing machine. Need I mention the fact the fake hair freaks me out?
And now for the merriment.
A while ago at work Joint Commision was around the hospital doing their evaluation. Due to some reccommendations and guidlines from the joint commision my boss and another higher up were in our playromm assessing the toys and throwing out the “misfit toys”. My boss asked me to make a few cute signs for the room. ONe that had the playroom rules on it, one with instructions for the playstation and one for soiled toys. She said for me to really “cutes” it up perhaps putting a picture of Pigpen from the Peanuts cartoons on the sign and some pictures of dirt. I love making signs I was right on top of it. Quickly being disappointed with the basic clip art selection on Word I quickly turned to the internet and Google image search. I quickly had an adorable picture of Pigpen on the top of my sign but the bottom lacked the pizzazz I was looking for. Back to the internet to look for some dirty toys to add to the bottom of my sign. Yes in fact I did type in “dirty toys” on the heavily monitored internet search field of my institution issued computer Without skipping a beat I typed those words as fast as I could, clicked search, and waited for cute little clip art of dirt covered childrens toys to load that I could insert into my sign. What came up instead was enough to make even a playboy bunny blush. The images that came up are now burned into my brain. I have to say that I was so shocked that I couldnt move for a second and I think I stopped breathing too. I was kind of disgusted that the internet did not understand my request and perhaps if I changed how I worded my inquiry the internet would somehow jump into my brain easily pull up exactly what I wanted. So off I went to the search field ready to commit another idiocy. I typed in dirty hoping to have luck. Not so. I was so jumped by these insanely provocative pictures I think I may have screamed a little. Then it dawned on me. I am totally gonna get fired. I suddenly had a flash of Eli standing on the street corner in the rain begging for food because his mother got fired for looking for dirty toys on the internet! At this point I could hardly breathe and was looking for the closest Purell bottle nearby to wash out my eyes with. I rushed into the playroom hoping to save my job and promptly told my boss what happened and waited to be ushered into a back room and be handed a pink slip. She laughed hysterically at me and then said, “Of course you didn’t think of that coming up Holly, you would have never expected that sort of thing to happen.” At that point I took a huge sigh of relief and began laughing really hard. As a present to my husband I told him this story because I knew he would have a blast telling his friends all about his wife’s stupidity. So the moral is be careful what you search for on the internet, you never know what you’re gonna get.