I am a mother/wife/bartender/nursing student... among many other things. I hate my job in the restaurant industry. This leads to my many vents concerning the people that drive me crazy. I seem to be a magnet of some sort for them. There is even a running joke at work about it. If they are crazy, annoying, ditsy or just plain dumb chances are I will be the one blessed with their presence. I am going to school for nursing so that I may see my regulars in a new, refreshing setting, the local ER. As I suspect many of them are regulars there too. After all, I wouldn't want to completely break up with them after so many wonderful years together. I have a loving husband, who balances me out and my awesome child, who keeps me on my toes.
As a bartender, my job duties consist of:
Babysitter of random, unsupervised children. Babysitter of the drunk and needy. Therapist to the depressed, divorced, and miserable. Mind reader. Actor. Interpreter of the law. Porter. Recipient of bullshit.
As a nursing student:
I start in 1 1/2 weeks as which I'm sure my role will be clearly defined and I will gladly pass my opinion on to you.
As a wife:
I'm just me. I can be a bit of a control freak at times. The hubby and I are a solid team. He accepts my faults and is probably the only person out there that could balance me out. We are polar opposites. I am high strung, neurotic, anal-retentive, ghostly white and impatient. He is passive, and relaxed. He tends to just sail through life enjoying the calm waters, while ignoring my screams, rants, raves, foot stamps and aggression. I don't know how he does it. God I love him.
As a mother:
First and foremost, I repeat everything 20x. Parenting has givin me a new perspective on life. As the mother of a little boy, I learned early that EVERYTHING has the potential to be pee'd on. Cheerios are only useful when teaching how to "aim" during potty training. And pots and pans weren't made for cooking after all. They are really made to be drums and then when your child grows up, you may promptly begin cooking with them again. I have learned that I really can't sing and when I do it hurts. Apparently, rocks have personalities and can talk to one another. They are also good substitutes for wrestling guys, when one isn't within reach. The kitchen table is no longer my domain, but has been taken over by piles of school work, every picture that he has colored in the past 7 yrs., cars, wrestling guys, paper towel rolls that are really samurai swords, rope used to lasso the dogs, and a 5 ft. layer of dust. The only thing that is missing is dinosaur bones. I simply don't think about the dust mites that I'm breeding in there and how many of them are probably pregnant with quads right now.
So there ya go. It is what it is.
Until next time,
KD
As a bartender, my job duties consist of:
Babysitter of random, unsupervised children. Babysitter of the drunk and needy. Therapist to the depressed, divorced, and miserable. Mind reader. Actor. Interpreter of the law. Porter. Recipient of bullshit.
As a nursing student:
I start in 1 1/2 weeks as which I'm sure my role will be clearly defined and I will gladly pass my opinion on to you.
As a wife:
I'm just me. I can be a bit of a control freak at times. The hubby and I are a solid team. He accepts my faults and is probably the only person out there that could balance me out. We are polar opposites. I am high strung, neurotic, anal-retentive, ghostly white and impatient. He is passive, and relaxed. He tends to just sail through life enjoying the calm waters, while ignoring my screams, rants, raves, foot stamps and aggression. I don't know how he does it. God I love him.
As a mother:
First and foremost, I repeat everything 20x. Parenting has givin me a new perspective on life. As the mother of a little boy, I learned early that EVERYTHING has the potential to be pee'd on. Cheerios are only useful when teaching how to "aim" during potty training. And pots and pans weren't made for cooking after all. They are really made to be drums and then when your child grows up, you may promptly begin cooking with them again. I have learned that I really can't sing and when I do it hurts. Apparently, rocks have personalities and can talk to one another. They are also good substitutes for wrestling guys, when one isn't within reach. The kitchen table is no longer my domain, but has been taken over by piles of school work, every picture that he has colored in the past 7 yrs., cars, wrestling guys, paper towel rolls that are really samurai swords, rope used to lasso the dogs, and a 5 ft. layer of dust. The only thing that is missing is dinosaur bones. I simply don't think about the dust mites that I'm breeding in there and how many of them are probably pregnant with quads right now.
So there ya go. It is what it is.
Until next time,
KD
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