Help Save Me From Possible Road Trip Purgatory

If you are wondering, yes, this is a stock photo, but I have this car. :)

Road trips are not my thing, plain and simple. I love to travel. I do not love to travel in a car. Road trips to me are all about waiting. First you are waiting to get somewhere. Then you are waiting to get home. Thus my title about road trip purgatory...since many religions view purgatory as a soul's "waiting place", I found it appropriate. Can I be more blunt?  I HATE road trips with the combined passion of thousands! But I volunteered for this upcoming 14+ hour trip this weekend. Volunteered. Why, you might ask? Well, as you know (if you have been reading my blog, which I of course highly recommend!) you would know that Barrett sold his truck a few months ago to help pay for some expenses and replenish our savings account. He has been riding his motorcycle to work basically all summer, but we knew we would use some of the truck money to buy a different used vehicle (we talked about sharing a car..but our schedules are too different, even now). Anyhow, Barrett and I decided that he would buy a used Ford Explorer from his grandmother. Well, they live in Camarillo (down by Santa Barbara). Thus, we are flying down tomorrow afternoon and driving the car back. Let it be said, that Barrett loves me so much that the original plan was for him to do this trip alone and for me to stay home with the kiddos and pets. The more I thought about that idea though, the more I just got sad. My parents were willing to watch their grandsons and the new grandpuppy, and get the boys back and forth to soccer (they go to every game each weekend anyway). Barrett and I have not been apart a single night since we got married (and I won't answer any questions about before then...lol!), and the thought of him being away for the weekend was enough to make me cry. Seriously. I know that is probably gag-worthy for many of my readers, and yes...before I was alone so much as a married woman that I felt single half the time, but I love Barrett, and what's more, I genuinely like him. Almost always. He is my best friend. He is the person I talk to about anything and everything. He is my partner in this journey of life, and he curls up to me every single night, arms wrapped around me and snuggles me close until the morning. I won't give up 2 nights of that...not when I can help it. 

So, that means I offered to go with him, made arrangements with my folks, and explained my case to him. I promised to not make it the road trip from Hell, and told Barrett it could even be fun (mind you, I am using a very loose definition here...that means I will not kill him...so that's fun, right?).  The fact of the matter is that I want to be there to help him stay awake, to keep him company and to drive part of the trip (even if it's a small amount). I also want to see his family again, and for the most selfish of reasons, I want him with me, not away from me. In preparation for this trip, I even finally spoke to my doctor about my bladder over-activity  because let's face it, when you have to pee every 1-2 hours every single day of your life, and at least once a night, it has really been getting in the way, and is the main reason I dread road trips...because there is no bathroom in the car. For years I have been too embarrassed to ever say anything, even to a doctor. I have dreaded going places that may not have a restroom (Matt's soccer practices and t-ball games come to mind!). I have turned down certain activities, and I have fretted over it interfering with a job. No more. I didn't ask to have this condition any more than a person asks for diabetes. My doctor listened to me, and told me that we were going to try a medication to help, and that a road trip is the perfect time to find out. I am keeping my fingers crossed that it will extend the hours in between stops this time. 

Now, I am also wracking my brain for things to do and talk about on the road trip. I can watch a few DVDs before the laptop will die, we have a book we are reading that I can read aloud to Barrett,  maybe I'll pick up a book on tape, and I have a silly game (Would You Rather?) that we can play in the car. I am so open to more and other ideas, people!  I tend to have the attention span of a 7 year-old ADD boy, and I need your help to make this trip a good one! :)

Off to See the OB

So yesterday morning I got to go see my OBGYN for my yearly checkup. It made me think that there were very few things that I wouldn't rather be doing. Okay, I would rather go have my "womanly" exam any day than go to the dentist. Seriously. While I like my dentist as a person, I could happily never ever go again. I find the mouth just as invasive if not more so than the exam from my OB, and the dentist (even if it's a teeth cleaning), hurts, a lot-therefore despite having worked in a dental office for six years of my life, it actually ranks above the OB on places I really hate to be. I genuinely like my doctor anyhow. She, my OB, has seen me through two pregnancies, is the one who delivered Isaiah (Matthew had another wonderful doctor in the same clinic), and we have developed a rapport over the years. You kind of have to, right? I mean this is the person that sees you naked at least once a year, examines your breasts, and has a conversation with you while inserting the always cold "metal duck" apparatus. That's what Barrett calls it. He came to one visit with me last year when there were a few concerns (luckily turned out okay), and had my doctor cracking up, looking at the speculum and saying, "yeah, I guess that name works!"

We had a nice chat, about my health, the fact that yeah, I've gained some weight (though she wasn't that concerned and my blood pressure was still perfect), and about me now being pre-nursing. She asked what specialties I had considered, and I told her I wasn't quite sure yet but that emergency medicine and women's health both seem interesting to me. She divulged to me that she had wanted to be a surgeon until she experienced that rotation in med school and thought everyone was really mean. Being in women's health was her last choice, she thought, again until she did it and really enjoyed it. It was nice talking to her and hearing her advice on not being too set in anything until you experience a taste of it. She also enlightened me that she has nurses and nurse practitioners that she works alongside at the clinic. That seems like a really great job.

It dawned on me yesterday that men complain about prostate checks, which they don't even have to start doing until what, 40? But women have likely been seeing a gynecologist since sometime after their first period. We get prodded, scraped and the hallmark of the visit of course is just positioning yourself in the padded stirrups (ladies are you nodding your heads?). If a woman has gone through childbirth, all vestiges of our modesty has long disappeared anyway. So the next time I hear a guy complain how awkward it is to go get checked out, well then I may have to explain the pelvic exam in great detail to them. :) The fact of the matter is that these things are essential to good health, so my advice is to grin and bear it (or bare it!) and find a doctor you like.

Are You Vice Free?

Sometimes I look at myself and think, "you deserve a pat on the back." Why? Because I look at myself and think I've never done drugs, never smoked cigarettes (unless you count the handful of times in high school), and I've certainly never been into alcohol (don't like it very much, but I'll have the occasional glass of wine.). In our society today, those things alone seem like a small something to be proud of. If you are like me though, don't be too quick to be self-congratulatory, I'm sure you do have something that you really would have a hard time giving up. Theses things are your vices. Whether they are addictive or not, I would wager there are a small handful of things you have a very hard time staying away from, or could not (unless you tried REALLY hard) stay away from.

Here are mine:
-my husband!
-coffee
-Diet Pepsi
-Alfredo Sauce
-paranormal or fantasy (especially young adult) books
- long, hot showers

What are your vices? Notice I didn't name my kids or college, though they are a huge part of my life- because both are things I require breaks from!:)

Broadening My Horizons: What is Intersex? And How Do You Define Family?

My venture into Lane Community College today was an interesting one. Not minutes after being parked, I thought that I would rather drop my classes and go elsewhere...anywhere elsewhere! :) Then, I calmed myself and found my way to my first class (if you get anxious like me always check it out ahead of time), which Barrett and I had scoped out last week. Sociology of Gender...need I say more? Why am I taking this course, you ask? Because it fits the "diversity" requirement course option for entry into Lane's Nursing Program. The class itself it certainly diverse. I no longer feel like I stand out, like I felt at OSU among all the young, pretty college kids. No, there is something representing every group you can think of in this class: minorities, heterosexuals, homosexuals, transgendered folks, old, young, male, female and racial and socioeconomic groups too.  The professor (who I am stuck with...wait, wait privileged to have for both classes!) is a cell phone and laptop Nazi, as in they are not welcome in her class, at all. That's not that big of a deal, while I am an iPhone junkie, and do text a lot, as well as Facebook, blog and check email from my phone, I can live without it for hour and 20 minute chunks...I hear it will be much longer in my CNA class this winter. I will give her this, she is interesting. She gave each group of 4 two separate tasks, tasks we would later discuss ad nauseum to see how gender stereotypes influence our daily lives, and where the stereotypes come from. The tasks were: 1)walk like a man, and 2) sit like a lady. If you have never thought about this, just the terminology used denotes actual meaning to the phrases. Being told to sit like a lady conjures up images of women sitting demurely, legs crossed and hands in lap. But walk like a man does not conjure up just one image. Is it a western, cowboy-like man? A noble businessman? A gangster?  All have different types of walks, so you can see that we have many different takes on what that phrase can mean. Like I said, interesting. 

Our first reading today is about the concept of an individual being intersex. Now, if you have not a clue what that means, welcome to my mind today. I was like "interwhodawhat?" And no, it is not fancy slang for sex on the interstate!  (You know that was funny!). According to my sources, "Intersex, in humans and other animals, is the presence of intermediate or atypical combinations of physical features that usually distinguish female from male. This is usually understood to be congenital, involving chromosomal, morphologic, genital and/or gonadal anomalies, such as diversion from typical XX-female or XY-male presentations, e.g., sex reversal (XY female, XX male), genital ambiguity, or sex developmental differences. An intersex individual may have biological characteristics of both the male and the female sexes.^[1][2] Intersexuality as a term was adopted by medicine during the 20th century, and applied to human beings whose biological sex cannot be classified as clearly male or female."
Make sense?  As I understand it, both parts, lack of the biologically appropriate parts or not being able to tell what parts are present. That's my dumbed down version-not that you needed it. I, for one, had heard of hermaphroditic people, but had never really read about it. Apparently if a clitoris is larger or a penis is smaller than the average range, surgeons will recommend surgical alteration to make the child more "normal." If the penis is too small to ever function normally, the baby is altered into being biologically a female. If the clitoris is too large that it doesn't quite look "female" enough, the girl baby is altered to have it cut down (this can lead to inability to orgasm in some cases). Both surgeries can lead to many unanswered questions from the child. I had never really known about this topic, and hopefully that isn't TMI for my readers, but it is interesting, and here is a website that explains the issue better than I can: What is Intersex?

Then, after a quick lunchtime visit with my love (he did get to come out today!), I headed to Sociology of Marriage and the Family. Same instructor, same room, same interesting first class. We were handed crayons and paper and told (with no further directions) to draw our family. I happily drew a clan of stick figure people and pets. Then, we were asked to share. I volunteered, thinking I represent a fairly "modern" family.  "I'm Sarah, here in the pink dress, and this is my husband. These are my two sons with my ex-husband  here (pointing to his stick figure), and this is his wife, her daughter and their daughter. These are my parents." My instructor raises her eyebrow, "And you all get along?" "Usually quite well," I reply. A bunch of raised eyebrows and murmurs. "Well that is certainly not the norm," she says, "good for you." I felt like someone on the Jerry Springer show, and she wasn't mean, just honest. I wanted to retort, "well it should be!" but I didn't. Two students later I am followed by a woman who says, "This is me, my two daughters, my boyfriend and over here in the corner is my ex-husband and his new whore. He's in the picture because I'm stuck with them (nice literal and figurative meaning there!)." To that the class responded with nods and smiles. Really? I get it. I really do. It is much more normal to be in that boat and hate your ex and their new love, but...anyway. That was my first day of school. 

1st Day of School

It's my first day at Lane Community College, and so far, I am not amused. The school had sent email alerts to be here early for classes the first week because the parking fills up very quickly, aka they have not nearly enough parking for a community college their size! So, my first class is at ten, but I have been here since 8:30. Which means Max has to be in his crate extra long while I hang out in my car, just to ensure a parking spot. Grrrr!!!! Yes, that is me growling. On I-5 there were even signs about how traffic may be stopped at the college exit, and it's no joke. Sure enough, after being here just 30 minutes, the lot around me has totally filled. It must be said that I am a nervous driver. When there are too many cars around me or traffic has come to a halt, my heart triples in time, I get light-headed, and I get nauseous-probably my own self induced version of an anxiety attack (which I have never, in any other situations experienced).

That brings me to the reason I chose Lane. I am hoping to go here for nursing, but I have been to and am much more familiar with Linn Benton Community College in Albany. Theoretically, Eugene is now closer to our new house. But non theoretically I can tell you it took me a full 30 minutes to get here today, and that's exactly how long it takes to get to LBCC. I even enrolled there first but then dropped. Why? Well, Barrett works in Springfield (which is about 15 minutes from here), and I have an hour and forty minutes in between my 2 classes. We had both figured now we could have lunch together twice a week. That, makes going somewhere new and the complete and utter anxiety worth it... That is until his work decides to mandate his lunch time, and now, it looks like I am probably on my own these two days that I am stuck in my most favorite city at my most favorite college, with the fantastic parking situation...(hear the sarcasm?) all by myself. And that, my dear friends, makes me very growly indeed.

Almost to 3,000!

I am about to clear 3,000 total page-views on this blog since the time I began in mid-July. I love the days that I get tons of readers, and yes, kind of get discouraged on the days that my readership is very low. But...I started this blog because I wanted to write my thoughts down. I have written a bit of just about everything that interests me: relationships, parenting, daily life, the educational system, and a few random rants or funny pieces here and there. 

I want to thank you for reading. I would like to keep this up as long as I can, and as long as I find it enjoyable. I would really love to see more comments, bloggers love to get feedback and have actual 2 or more way discussions. I know it's kind of a pain to comment on, but you can always be anonymous and type your name at the bottom, or just plain be anonymous if you want. :)  

Please respond to my poll with your top 2 favorites. You will see it on the right side of the page.  It really helps to guide my topics and style. Thank you! Let's get to 5,000 soon! :) Share me with your friends, recommend me on Google +, or share me on Facebook. I appreciate it!

Here's to hoping you stay with me for 3,000 more posts!

Why, Hello Officer!

Ever notice how, no matter what you are doing, the second you see a cop driving near you, you think you must be guilty. It's as if our minds scream out in a perpetually cheerful voice, "Why, hello Officer, I didn't see you there! Top of the morning to you!" (because apparently I turn dorky and Irish). You turn into the perfect driver, hands at two and ten on the wheel, looking straight ahead, and doing a perfect speed limit. "Observe Officer, I am going 27 mph in the 25 zone. See, I don't want to hold traffic up, but I am a law-abiding citizen. I also figured that going exactly 25 mph might tip you off to look at me more, so I am nonchalantly driving a risky 2 miles over the speed limit." I know that a good chunk of the time, especially in town, I have nothing to worry about. I am a careful driver, and I am likely going pretty close to the recommended speed guidelines (okay, okay laws, but I tend to see them as guidelines, lol!).

 Sometimes though, it's a toss up. "No Officer, I would never look at my phone, apply my lipstick or work on training the perfect Pandora station while driving my vehicle..."  I will say that my driving has gotten a lot better, but perhaps slightly too aggressive thanks to the trade up from a mini-van to my Charger. Barrett swears to me that if I get pulled over, the excuse that I give him: "But my car is most comfortable at 80," will not amuse a police officer. I suppose not. Though, my car does handle best on the freeway at that speed. :) And finally, "No, Officer, I have never gone out on a country road to see how fast my car can go," (because I'm sure it can actually go much faster than the 130 mph I got it to!), "but if I did, I can assure you that I'd be by myself and you'd be nowhere to be seen!"

What are your driving confessions?