You mean I have to name this??

I know I've been gone a while, but I've been a busy lady.
Working is taking everything out of me, including my creativity. And I'm tired of whining to you all about how sore and tired I have been. So I've just been keeping quiet.
Peak has come, and we have had a boost in volume at work. It seems that everyone has something to send, and although I would like to complain about how much more work that is, I am just thankful for a job, and I might not have one, if not for the waxing and waning of volume capacities. Blah, blah, blah.
We are gearing up for the upcoming trip to the Caribbean.
Yes, I am going on my first cruise.
And taking my children.
Boo.
It seems that they are supposed to accompany us on this trip, since it is really for my SIL's wedding, and they need to be there.
Whatever.
I am 38, going on my first cruise.
Taking an 11 and a 12 year old.
Yup, still boo.
Meanwhile, they are stoked about all the fun we will have. Of course, we will be having fun on the boat, because we are too broke to do much sight seeing in the beautiful places we plan to visit. But at least we get to get ON the boat.
But then, we have to swim to Puerto Rico, since we really can't affort airline tickets...
Nah. We will be flying. The kids'll be swimming. teehee.
For some reason, we seem to be taking this wonderful vacation about six weeks before we will have our income tax refund, which is no consolation, because we don't expect much this year.
Anyhoo, I'm doing a little Christmas baking. I have been sick for the past few days, so I've been off work. Really bad timing, considering peak, but you should have heard me cough. I have been toning my stomach muscles using the power of this cough. Now Hailey has it. Poor baby! Hopefully, she won't run a fever like I did.
Guess I should go put together the chocolate chip banana bread. Gotta make up for the peanut butter cookies I burned. At least they had peanut butter in them.

...but I play one on TV

When I was growing up, we used to sing a song about being a sermon in shoes.
"Do you know, oh Christian, you're a sermon in shoes?
Do you know, oh, Christian, you're a sermon in shoes?
Jesus counts upon you to spread the gospel news, so
Teach it and preach it, a sermon in shoes."
Then we added the phrases "know it and show it," "live it and give it," and a few other rhyming additions before we had the big finale, "A SERMON IN SHOOOOOOOOOOEEES!"
Good times.
I may have understood a little what we were singing, but only in a child's way.
Something about being doers and not just hearers of the Word.
Well, time has passed and the song comes to mind occasionally. I was really blessed with my childhood head being filled with scripture songs that God still uses to remind me how to be that sermon in shoes. It's amazing how a God brings them to mind when I need them.
I've learned something about myself on this journey of becoming a working mom.
I'm not the same person I was, some 12 years ago. (Thank God!)
Before, I don't think anyone I worked with knew that I was a Christian. For so long I have subscribed to the "Don't label yourself as a Christian, so you won't have to look bad when you mess up give an account to everyone around." I joke about not putting a fish on my car, because then I'd have to drive like Jesus would.
Now, after being out of the dog-eat-dog, every-man-for-himself world for so long, I have learned to put others' needs ahead of my own. I have learned that the world doesn't revolve around me. It isn't always about me, and we sometimes do what we must. Being thrust back into that place has shown me what a blessing it has been to be shielded from it long enough to grow up and develop some empathy and integrity.
The job I do affords me time to think and pray, sometimes out loud, for the things and people on my mind. I get to sing to myself and talk to God about anything and everything.
Hopefully, I am learning to not just call myself a Christian, but actually act like one, too.

When good cleaners go bad

My mom flips houses. You know, buys foreclosed rejects, fixes them up and
POOF
sells them for a profit. So whenever she has a house that needs fixing, I usually jump in and help out. It gives me a little extra income and helps her get finished more quickly.
Win-win.
So yesterday, when I was there painting cabinet door faces, I realized a few of them were pretty dirty. The kitchen and bathroom sinks are currently disconnected, and the only water source is the outside hose. I had Hailey bring me a wet rag and the bottle of pine-sol. Pouring a bit of pine-sol on the rag as needed, I scrubbed the doors, then painted them. It wasn't until about an hour later that I realized something was wrong. I turned to look at Hailey and the room swam. Determined to finish, I quickly swiped paint on the remaining drawer faces and stood to clean up. I could barely walk! I didn't even TRY to clean my paint brush. Signing out, the list was blurry. I got in my car, thinking that if I could just get home, I could go to bed. Nothing doing. I was violently nauseated. I drove about three blocks before I pulled over and called for back-up. After being rescued by family, and resting the remainder of the evening, I looked online for some answers. Apparently, there are people who sniff pine-sol ON PURPOSE! Sheesh! But dizziness is a common side effect of breathing the fumes. I guess painting and cleaning in a closed room was a bad idea.

And now, back to our regularly scheduled program

Last night was my first night back at work, after a six week medical leave of absence.
I have to say, it was a little surreal. Everyone was surprised to see me, although no one seemed happy I was back. It was just matter of fact. She's back. Moving on.
My manager was out, but I was able to get into the facility, so she (or someone) must have put me in the system. Hopefully the fact that I couldn't clock in or out won't be a problem.
Thankfully, my doctor limited me to two hours of standing/walking at a time, so I was only there for a little while. After the first hour my foot felt like a hot branding iron was being applied directly to the bottom of it. The second hour was spent carefully watching the clock.

Meanwhile, I got my brochures and business cards from the printer, so I will be sending out tons of them tomorrow. I'm working on building a website now. Hopefully, I'll start to see some business soon.

My New Obsession

If you know me at all, you know that when I get started on something, I slightly obsess about it.

It doesn't really matter what it is, and when I get tired of it, I put it away.

Sometimes I pick it back up.

Like this one.

In my time of recovery from my injury, I have spent some time reevaluating my destiny in life. :-) At this time, I am enjoying being home with Caleb while Hailey is away at school. And I'm playing with my facepaints.

I found a cool face painting forum online, joined, and have been reading up on technique, style, and information.

I rented a booth at the local flea market and set up to paint faces there. In spite of the weather being absolutely perfect, I did less-than-impressive business. Apparently, people going to the flea market are looking to buy stuff, not get their faces painted. My bad. So I will be keeping my ear to the ground about local fairs and events, hoping to get some real painting done. Meanwhile we also used the booth to sell some stuff lying around here, and made more with that than my painting. HA!

I made up some business cards and brochures, which a fabulously talented printer I know is printing for me. :-)

I had some brilliant ideas about where I will take them once I have them: some places where kids hang out, and parents are looking to spend money on them. I don't mind taking their money! ;-D

The Tangled Web I DIDN'T Weave

This whole situation has become a stupid, confusing mess.
You know that moment when you realize that a small decision could have made things SO much easier, but you made the decision you made, and you can't go back?
Well, this morning I was given the opportunity to go back. I couldn't take it, because I would be lying, if I did.
I got the call from my senior manager, who wanted to let me know that dancing at work means a warning letter. (read-being written up.) Then she asked me if I was sure I hurt myself dancing. I understand that she was trying to be gracious. I get that she was trying to give me an "out." But I apologized for any inconvenience, since the fact that I hurt my foot dancing a little step means that workman's comp will be denying my claim, and now they have to go to the trouble to discipline me. Oh, gosh! Shame on me for having a moment of jubilation and not being willing to lie about it.
Meanwhile, I have been ordered to see a doctor approved by workman's comp, who happens to be out-of-network from my health insurance. The workman's-comp-approved doctor has ordered me to physical therapy, which means if I get the denial from WC while going to PT, I will have to discontinue PT, go see my PCP and get her to re-order it, which will take time, all while I am out of work.
O G! (oh, gee!)
But what am I doing now?
Sitting by the phone, waiting for the WC case worker to call me and tell me what to do.
I think I'll get out my rubber exercise band and do my OWN PT!
Now, who will I charge for it?

The Impatient Patient

Wah! I am a whiney baby when I'm hurt. I don't like being in pain. I have no idea how my sister copes, having real issues with pain. My own issues are so temporary, compared with hers.
But, there you have it. I am a big, whiney baby.
The good news is that I am surrounded by people who are extremely merciful.

I ended up not getting to go to the orthopedic specialist. Turns out when you hurt yourself at work, it's considered an on-the-job injury. (even if you weren't doing your job when it happened)
Dancing isn't exactly in my job description.
I figured that since I got hurt doing something non-work-related, that it would be wrong to file for workman's compensation. Instead, I got in big, fat trouble for not reporting the injury immediately.
Well, I would be in much more trouble if I didn't have a very understanding manager. (a VUM, if you will) Apparently, it is against company policy to not report an injury. In fact, it's such a no-no that I learned I would be given a warning letter, which would stay in my file for a year, meaning I can't bid on any other jobs for that time. But my VUM appealed to the OSHA director with my reasoning, and it seems that they may decide to give me grace, since I thought I was doing the right thing.
Meanwhile, I was given a list of approved doctors to visit, and saw one of them the next day. She concurred with Dr. Wilcox's diagnosis of a torn plantar fascia, but decided to just give it time to heal. I have to go back in a week and let her re-check. I still have to stay off it; I'm not allowed to drive; I have to ice it for 15 minutes every hour and take the medicine Dr. Wilcox had already prescribed.
But I have to say, I really want to chuck the crutches and just WALK to the bathroom when I need to potty. I am tired of watching TV. I would really love to just read a book, but I can't go to the library. The anti-inflammatory drug I am taking knocks me flat, and gives me a headache.
But I am home. I have seen my kids a lot. I have held my doggies. I have slept during the night. I have had really great friends bring me dinner. I am being well taken care of. I have no reason to complain.