Moving Day Approacheth
I'm a Mazda RX-8!
You're sporty, yet practical, and you have a style of your own. You like to have fun, and you like to bring friends along for the ride, but when it comes time for everyday chores, you're willing to do your part.
Take the Which Sports Car Are You? quiz.
Doctor Today
Well, we have his staples out appointment today, and to probably check his White Blood Count. I shall try to post and let everyone know.
So far, so good. He isn't doing much. Laying in bed watching movies is about all, but that is what the Dr told him he could do, that and about nothing else.
I have gotten a few more boxes packed and taken into town. The house doesn't looked packed yet, just a few things missing is all. Sigh.
Baby and Nursey are looking for apt closer to where we will be, within a 1/2 hour drive or so. That will be nice as Nursey has pretty much decided to leave 3/4 Pint with us for the next school year.
Other Nursey had an appendicitis attack and had emergency surgery. She went HOME that same night about 4 hours after the surgery. Part of it is that she is a nurse, married to a nurse, and part of it is that they do it now with laproscopic surgery, not a huge incision in your abdomen like I had 40 years ago. What a wonderful world we live in now.
Except for the stupid gas prices. I am starting to write Senators and Congresspeople. I have become convinced that as long as we are dependent on foreign oil, we are at the mercy of OPEC and other nations political games.
It's time to drill on U.S. soil. We have the oil, we have lots and lots of oil. We just haven't been allowed to drill it. It's time. The environmentalists are just going to have to get over it. All the alternative energy sources in the world are not going to help when for some things, we need liquid fuel. Granted, electric cars help, but you still need to generate the electricity. People are just going to have to realize we will have two choices. Put up with Nuclear plants to generate electricity, and put up with oil drilling, or pay 12/gallon at the pumps in a few years. Me? I'll take the drilling and the nuke plants.
Additionally, I think that washington should go balls to the wall on making hydrogen fuel cell technology, which DOES already exist, affordable. If washington gets behind it, we can do without gasoline and oil for our cars at least.
Thats pretty much it. School is out for summer next Thursday. Groan.
Home Sweet Home
MRSA SUPERBUG
So shit.
I will try, in the interest of your eyes, to be as brief as possible.
Day one (monday.) We go to VA to have the existing hernia of 19 years checked, it has changed, swollen, largish and looks different. VA makes a referral to VA in Cleveland, draws bloodwork.
Day two. VA calls, says your white blood count is very high, go immediately to Cleveland or to nearest E.R.
We decide on nearest E.R as Cleveland is too far away having only one car and three small children.
E.R. Does CT Scan with resolution, Says “Wow, that's really big. You should go see a surgeon tomorrow.” It is a transverse colon herniation. The opening in the abdominal wall is about 4 inches and several more of his colon is hanging out his belly so to speak. We agree, and they say they will discharge him. I go get DH something to eat. He eats while waiting for discharge papers. ER doc calls up to surgery to see if surgeon is still here. He is. He comes down, looks at tests, CT Scan, comes into room, throws major fit cause DH is eating. DH tells him that it is his fault, not ER doc's fault.
Put's DH on a bowel prep regime. Liquid Diet. Tells him to come to office immediately in morning.
Day Three . We do go to dr. first thing in morning. He prescribes something to turn his insides out and tells him if you are not pooping clear water by five pm, call me. Gives him antibiotics and says, short of a flamethrower, there is no way to disinfect bowel, but we are going to do our best to make sure if this perforates, the infection will be minimized.
Sends us home. Liquid diet. Bowel prep works. Dh is uncomfortable, but okay.
Day Four. Get to hospital at 10:30. Surgery is supposed to be at 12:30. At 3:30 they finally take him back. The kitchen in the hospital catches fire at about 5ish. That was fun. At 7 pm I am tweaking. Badly. At 7:30 the surgeon comes out and talks to me. He says it was pretty bad. There were multiple herniations. It took 77 stitches (on the INSIDE( and a piece of mesh 14 cm by 8 cm to rebuild his abdomen wall, with 40 staples on the outside to close the abdomen. I take the girls and head home. They have been very good through all this. We are all very tired. I sneak them into recovery room to see that Pappy is really okay. We get home, they all start crying, they want to be taken right back to hospital to spend the night in Pappy's room. I finally get them to sleep.
Day Five. Friday. Go back over to hospital. His White Blood Count is up. They say that they just won't draw labs tomorrow so that way he can go home? They are talking about discharging him on Saturday???? Helloooooo. They draw blood. Me and the girls go home.
Day six. Saturday. I am driving to hospital, but have to make side trip to pick up Calamity and take her and baby home. They are both sick. Both my girls woke up with sore throats. Crazy assed weather. Cold one day and 70 the next. DIL is at hospital with DH. I am texting. She tells me that his White Blood Count is up but they are talking about discharging him. I flip.
I tell her to talk to his nurse. She says she doesn't know who it is. I call hospital and find out.
I tell her. Look. My husband has already had MRSA (Methylcillin Resistant Staph = superbug everyone hears about on the news) twice before. The last time was in 2001, at the same hospital. He has had Osteomylitis (staph infection inside the bone) three times. Do not piss around. If he has a high WBC, it is probably MRSA. You must tell Dr.
She does. Problem is, the surgeon following him over weekend is NOT our surgeon, but his partner. She doesn't know my husband's history. I do. She does nothing.
The other doc following him for the non surgical stuff, I happen to see (and know quite well) when I walk by the nurses desk after getting there. I whip around and nab him and tell him. His eyebrows go up quite impressively. He looks up the labs (the WBC was 27,000) and says We will start him IMMEDIATELY on Unasyn..a fairly new combination drug used on MRSA with quite a lot of success. I feel better. His JP drain is still draining quite a lot. (bad).
I go back and tell DH. He thinks I am overreacting. I am not. Trust me on this one. I am the walking medical records file for him. There is just nothing about any of his surgeries, accidents, treatments, etc that I do not know.
Day Seven. Sunday. WBC is still going up, albeit slowly. The Doctor that started the Unasyn adds Vancomycin. Vanc is the 'drug of last resort' to treat MRSA. It is what they use when nothing else seems to be kicking it's ass. They are still continuing the Unasyn, but adding the Vancomycin. There IS a strain of MRSA known as VRSA which means Vancomycin will not work on it. So that's why they are continuing the Unasyn too.
8 pm. I just talked to him. He was on his second bag of Vanco. Then another bag of Unasyn. His JP drain seems to be lessening in the amount of drainage (good). They will draw blood in am. Surgeon comes back tomorrow. His family lives in Indiana, he commutes and goes home every other weekend. He is quite brilliant. I will be glad when he gets back.
I am glad that I flipped. MRSA isn't something you piss around with. If it DOES turn out to be MRSA (won't know till the culture comes back Tuesday) and they had waited another day, it could have been too late.
Will update all more as I find it out. I haven't gotten a damn thing packed. I have gotten the electric, gas and cable arranged for. maybe this week I can get some stuff packed. We are supposed to move June 2nd. Dave won't be able to lift anything, even supposing they let him come home, for at least three months.
DH's surgery.
Dave was in surgery for a little over 4 hours. They found not just the huge herniated tranverse colon thingy, but multiple freakin herniations. The surgeon is awesome!! He fixed every single one of them and NO perforations at all. He covered the compromised abdomen (remember, DH was crushed from the chest down at age 19 while on a mission in the Army, and his abdomen looks like a train station, he has some thirty scars i believe), anyway, he covered the whole thing with this mesh stuff they have now, to reinforce it.
He will be in hospital at least through Monday, then we shall see when he can be released.
Thank you one and all for your prayers, thoughts and general good whatever you sent our way!!
I'm tired. going to bed. The girls came through it wonderful, they were a bit tweaky when we got home at after 9 pm, but finally got them to sleep and the dogs fed and put out to potty and the cats in..and this old woman is whupped!!
Shitballs!!!
so. Well. Anyway. Dave is having emergency surgery, probably Thursday. Which is his 45th birthday. His transverse colon has herniated through his abdominal wall (3 inches of herniation (the hole) and a bunch of the colon) through one of the old scars. It's very serious shit. Pardon the pun. I'm hanging in there. The kids are okay. Everyone is a bit nervous and worried. They are going to 'gently' put the colon back in, and then insert a piece of mesh across the opening. They cannot stitch the herniation site as it is all scar tissue (most of his abdomen is scar tissue now :(......) and hope like heck it holds.
Prayers are welcome. I will post again when I have the chance. Haven't gotten any packing done yet. Will be doing the move solo. Dave will be in hospital for about a week or so, then won't be able to do anything at all for a month.
Life - It's not like the brochure folks!!
Five good things this morning already
As mornings go, it wasn't too bad.
I awoke after the sixth snooze. It is one of those mornings where you lay in bed, hearing the alarm, but not really paying a whole lot of attention to it.
I do set my alarm one hour before I have to get up. I don't like getting up very much, and need to be led gradually down the path to awakeness. Abrupt awakeness and I do not get along very well. My spell checker does not like the word awakeness. It doesn't find it in the dictionary. I do not feel like zipping over to Dictionary.com to find it.
It is hard to awaken gradually in a house with three small girls. However, gallantly trying every single day to do just that, in fact, isn't all that hard if you set the alarm for one hour before you have to get up.
Now, that may seem a bit foolish to some. And, to them I say, sleep an hour in my bed!!
Firstly, I simply reach over and hit the snooze, or more precisely, hit in the direction of the snooze. I usually manage to get it right on the fifth or sixth try. That connects my brain pathways to daylight. I turn my body in the opposite direction of the alarm, hoping that since I am not, in fact, acknowledging the alarm, that it will start to not acknowledge me. It hasn't worked yet, but I keep trying.
The alarm goes off again. I roll over and fling out my arm the two required feet to the top of my seventeen year old clock. I really like that clock, and it still works, more or less, and so, have no instant need to replace it.
I fumble around in the dark, even though there is quite bright sunlight streaming through my window. It is dark because I have firmly refused to embrace the dawn, so to speak, and my eyes are quite tightly shut, driving out all semblance of light and newness of the morn.
I hit it again. Two for two. Rolling back over again, in my stubborn insistence, I not so gently move one of the smaller life forms that reside under the covers with one of my feet. Chihuahua's slide easily on 800 count Turkish Cotton sheets. They sort of glide right over.
Uh. Oh. ONE of the chi's is NOT under the covers, but is in fact, ON top of the covers. I tug. I tussle. I try to rip. The covers, warm and comfortable, do not move. There is a slightly more than ten pound weight on top of the covers, and in my weakened almost post sleep state, I do not have the strength to move the obesity that is my chi.
I kick at her instead. She knows better than to be on top of the covers in the morning, or rather, she should know better. She has been sleeping with me now over 10 years.
The smell of coffee starts making connections with the neural pathways in my brain that are necessary to awaken. DH has gotten up and thoughtfully let Monster out and turned on the coffee pot.
The smell travels around the brain awhile, finally lighting on a particular pathway that sends a signal to my awakeness center that says “hey!! if you ever do decide to get out of this nice and warm and snuggly bed, there is a nice and warm and delicious cup of coffee awaiting your palate...”
I tell the smell to go find somewhere else to be for a few minutes. I am totally not ready yet to embrace a cup of coffee.
Eventually, I give up the battle and go ahead and get up. Sometimes, in petulance to DH who will continue to snooze, uninterrupted as I go about my morning ablutions, I intentionally do not turn off the alarm. Every ten minutes it will continue to go off, blaring hard acid rock out of the two bent speakers, full of static and Ozzy, and I will hear it in the background, and smile, knowing it is bothering him, but he will not roll over and try to reach it. It is my little way....
Today I intentionally tried to be a nice morning type person. This is a gargantuan task for me to attempt this early.
I steal quietly into the older girls room. ½ Pint sneaks out of her room to surprise me! I smile, and hug her.
¾ Pint jumps out of her bed, ready to go. Today is field trip day for her and she is looking forward to the field trip. It is the first day she has gotten out of bed willingly.
Pint, sigh, does not wake up nice. She takes after me. I tickle her leg. I pick up her covers and wave them gently, letting the breeze sneak in under to waft around her tired eight year old body, gently caressing her awake. She moans.
I tickle some more. She opens one eye and glares at me. I am her snooze alarm and she doesn't like alarms. You can just sort of tell. There must be a strand of DNA in our makeup that we share. A little dongle on the double helix that says....Alarms? No way!!
I offer her a piggy back ride to the table. She accepts, falling onto my back from the top bunk. I carry her into the table.
She falls out of the chair.
Wail.
She climbs back up. Wail.
¾ Pint is glaring at me. Make her stop.
I tell ¾ Pint to not glare. She says she is not looking at cousin, doesn't like cousin and would not look at her if you paid her to look at her, which no one is offering to do anyway.
She wails.
On my way to the bathroom, I mention (nicely, and you have no idea how hard THIS is to do) to DH that I could really use a hand OUT HERE this morning. It goes ignored.
I get through breakfast. No blood, no major fights, everyone takes their medications, I find clothing for each of the three girls that sort of matches. They get dressed, we do hair, make lunches, find bookbags, socks, shoes, all the accouterments of school life.
There is 15 minutes left. They turn on Nick. I check my mail.
The alarm goes off on my phone. We head out the door. ¾ Pint wants me to walk down the driveway with her.
I do. As we are waiting, the girls pick flowers to give to the bus driver. The flowers are weeds, but children don't care, and I don't think the bus driver does either as she is the mother of a six year old boy, and so is probably quite comfortable with receiving dandelions and little purple and green thingys instead of tulips and daisies.
The bus doors close. I return to the house. DH is still sleeping.
I have to clean, then pack. I haven't actually had time to pack yet, and we are due to move in three weeks from today.
But, I didn't yell this morning. I distinctly remember smiling on more than one occasion. I found joy in picking weeds with three little girls. The sun is shining. I got a hug from 1/2 Pint.
That is five good things to start off the day.
My head is in my ass.
I miss me. Badly actually. I had sort of gotten to the point where I was once again writing. Not necessarily blogging, but actually writing? I remember fond times of sitting, quietly, me and a glass of merlot, just, well, thinking, and writing. Not really saying anything even remotely approaching significant. More rather, sort of tiptoeing around the perimeter of not quite significant, but something closely resembling not at all significant.
Now, my days are simply filled with things of children. Things surrounding children. Things childish, and in some ways, I become the most childish thing there is.
I'm not sure I am happy, per se. I am fulfilled. Quite. But not exactly happy. Perhaps there is a part of me who resents what I do? It is certainly possible, I have been filled with resentment in the past, will probably be filled with resentment in future, and quite probably won't even realize when I am, in fact, filled with resentment, being so full of resentment that I will be unable to pull my head out of my ass long enough to see that my world is filled with shit.
I used to be philosophical. Actually, I distinctly remember being a fun person as well. I am not sure where exactly, that person disappeared? I think I would quite like to go and have a look around and see if maybe I can find her.
How do you pull your head out of your own ass? How do you, well, how exactly do you tell when you have your head up your ass? Especially when you are a 'ball busting bitch' that no one wants to approach and say "oh, pardon Moi??? but I think you quite have your head firmly inserted up your ass?"
Just doesn't flow. Not at all. They don't even like to tell me the mail is late anymore. Sigh.
I have approached the point in life where I should be fulfilled, but, hoisted by my own petard, am not. I have waited fucking years to actually use that phrase in print, and there it is. Hoisted by my own petard. Anyone out there even know what a petard is? Anyone care? A petard, or rather, properly, a 'petar' is a small incendiary device, used primarily in the medieval period. It used black powder, was usually bell shaped, and was used to blow up walls. To hoist, is to lift something up, to get it ready to move. To be hoisted by your own petard is to blow the fuck out of yourself LOL. By mistake. Knowing that you are handling black powder...knowing what you are getting into. Knowing in advance what is going to happen.
I. Have definitely been hoisted by my own petard. But hey!! I did it by the age of 50, not bad?? Shakespeare, would, I think, be impressed. He may not have been the first one to quote that particular phrase, but he was certainly the most famous.
But is it a bad thing? I don't really know the answer to that question. I know the answer to many questions. Ask me my favorite color. Brown. See? Ask me the reason a rhinoceros has wrinkly skin? Because of cake crumbs. Or so says R. Kipling anyway.
But I do not know the answer to that particular and monumental question. I do know I am tired. But is ME tired and crabby better than SHE, strung out and ditzy? If you put it in those terms, yes. But, if you put it in other terms? I simply don't know.
I think I would like to have the time to do many things that I am unable, by virtue of my age, my energy level and my commitments, to do. But, that was also the case in my twenties. Is this personal angst something that has gone around a few times in my life? Yes, quite probably. Does it make a difference. No. Quite probably.
Could I change it. Yes. Will I change it. No. Will I work on changing me? Probably, or I will turn into a wrinkled up old prunish sort of woman who is never happy, and if I turn into that, I will have to nip out back and shoot me, or pay someone to shoot me, or get shot somehow, just to keep me in check so to speak.
There has to be joy in parenting someone else's small children over the age of fifty. Not the children, LOL, me. And, I think my quest will be to find it.
Join me on the journey. Perhaps I will also find the energy to write about it as I discover it.
And I hope, when I pull my head outta my ass, it doesn't hurt too much??
Just another Manic Monday, I wish it was Sunday
Blogging while sitting in the counselor's office with 3/4 Pint on my cell phone LOL. I have been a bit busy, not to mention busy...busy...busy, and a bit philosophical of late.
Overall, life continues to treat me wonderfully. As I am frequently known to say...I love my life, however, there are occasionally parts of it that really suck. Those parts however do not belong in today's blog.
Happy Mother's Day to all who mother!!
Since this can, and often does include those who have not actually given birth or adopted...I just say to anyone who mother's.
Well, having climbed out of the tree's, we are a mobile society now, and, like anyone else, my life too is mobile.
We are, in a word, moving again. Yes readers. Again.
Cop, 3/4's dad got transferred to California, leaving end of this month. Nursey does not want the house. VERY soft real estate market means they would probably not be able to sell it, it is a bit overpriced for the market.
So, enter stage left.....we will assume the mortgage which gives me time to file the bankruptcy and build my credit back up from the ravages of Calamity and her husband's damages.
Meanwhile, back at the old farmstead, I will miss lots of things.
And, there are some I will not miss LOL. At the new house, there is a huge fenced in backyard, large enough for a pool, trampoline, swingset and still have running room for Monster. I can put in a cat door for the cats and small dogs to enter and exit as nature prompts.
There are only two bedrooms, BUT there is also a partially finished basement, part of which will be a playroom. There is enough room (barely) in the attic bedroom for three twin beds. Yes, three. 3/4 will most likely be staying with us through the end of the next school year. She has calmed down a lot, and that will give us more time to settle her and for her Mom to get on her feet, find the perfect job and save up to buy a house.
Since we have the playroom and the back yard, I think it will all work out just fine.
It will be a bit weird having a small bathroom. I can truthfully say I am not especially looking forward to only one traditional bathroom. There IS a shower, toilet and small sink in the basement however. So at least there are two places to pee LOL.
The landscaping is even mostly done!! There are actually three porch's to decorate around, with one of them being the size of a florida room, only not made into a florida room yet if you get what I mean?
So, I will be packing madly the next few weeks. I am looking forward to being back in the land of lightening fast FIOS and away from satellite Internet, which SUCKS!!
I am however, migrating the DISH to the new house. The cable system there does not have BBC or Hist Int and DH and I have decided we can't live without either one as those are about the only two channels we actually watch LOL.
My nephew (son to Uncle Brother who visited last month) has been here this week. He is quite awesome and everyone loves him to death. I had not seen him since he was four years old!!
It is way less stressful having him here than it was his Dad. I thought about it last night. I think it is because there is no baggage attached to Nephew. I didn't grow up with him, had no preconceived notions about him, and no history to remember, other than he was a curly haired, cute as hell, little boy. He has grown (age 28) into a wonderful man who has served his country, succeeded, overcome huge obstacles in life and prospered emotionally and financially. But, more than that, he is just a plain old awesome person!!
Busy week ahead. Must start to pack. And then transport all the shit over to the new house. My plan is to pack the stuff we don't need here, or there right away, and take boxes over with me every trip into town. Works in theory, we shall see how it works in reality???
Got to spend a lovely day at the park with the girls on Saturday. They had a blast playing in the creek. I took a video, but all of a sudden, my computer doesn't recognize the file format from the videos I take on my phone....
grrrrr. Gremlins again.
I just figured out, I need THREE DVR boxes from Dish for the new house. Six freakin TV's. And, the funny part is, we don't actually watch that much TV...but we DO DVR a lot of shows LOL.
Such is life.
moving, kids, cars and stress
Update.
Baby got a job. Yaaaaaay!! She is psyched, sort of. LOL.
Baby's truck still needs a fuel pump, which is 300. Not having the 300, we decided to put Betty, the old and trusty Grand Am back on the road. Needed a new radiator. $40. Easy cheesy.
Got radiator via TLPFH ($140), he put it in. It was still overheating. Wrong radiator. When changing radiator, noticed the rack and pinion was all rusted to hell. Replaced R & P ($85). When changing the R&P, noticed the fuel lines leaking. Battery went dead ($79). New fuel lines ($60). Then noticed gas tank was rusted. New gas tank ($80). Put in new gas tank. Bought plugs and oil and filter ($45). Put in new plugs, oil, filter. Still running rough. Electrical system whacked out. Plug boots melted. New plug boots ($35). Had to pay TLPFH to put all this stuff in ($300).
Got it all changed out, blowing white wet smoke out tailpipe. Head warped or cracked. Bought two quarts of Sodium Silicate (Liquid Glass), poured it in. Didn't work.
Betty is now dead. Irrevocably. Irretrievably. Dead. Not mostly dead, but actually REALLY dead.
Betty will be scrapped. Called Summit Racing, ordered fuel pump for Baby's truck. Will be here tomorrow. Job starts today. Job is 2 hours drive from our house (45mins from apt in Pittsburgh).
Traded scrap value of Betty to TLPFH ($300) to install new fuel pump in Baby's truck when it gets here.
Baby borrowed PT cruiser last night to drive into Pittsburgh to get clothes. After she got to apt and got clothes, PT wouldn't start. Nursey said, sorry about your luck, I just worked a 16 and have to be up at 5 to go back to work (this was at midnight). Back into apt she went, leaving Baby and friend out there with a car that wouldn't start.
Neighbor came out and helped. At 1:47 a.m. They were back on road.
DH has to take Baby into town this morning to friends house who also got hired with her, so she can ride into work with her for orientation. She is to be a 'greeter' at Bahama Breeze, upscale restaurant in suburb of Pittsburgh.
Taking battery out of Betty to put in PT. Battery is new.
Kids are all doing very well. ¾ Pint has settled down and is now running out door to get on bus with cousins. Fell down the stairs today on way out, didn't melt down. I came out with box of band-aids and put two on her little knee, off she went to end of driveway. No tears.
½ Pint was hiding under Pappy's big truck yesterday playing hide and seek. Didn't realize there was several tons of steel over her head (bit truck, BIG tires – 37” tires, TALL TRUCK, appropriate for hiding under for a five year old). Stood up, banged head. Goose egg. Little scrape. She shrugged it off.
Pint was playing outside. ¾ Pint unwittingly (she says......) kicked a garden slug onto Pint. I heard the 'OMG there is a BUG on me' scream. Pint came running into house at full voice..traumatized to the max. Put her in shower, trying not to laugh.
½ Pint and ¾ were sitting on loveseat, looking at each other, going like..”it's JUST a slug, it's a snail with no shell....”
LOL.
House is dirty. Today is cleaning, tomorrow starts packing. Oh. Sorry. Forgot.
We are leaving country. Cop got transferred to Travis AFB in California. It is a soft market for real estate. The house has an 82k mortgage on it. It is a smaller two bedroom, with a large two room basement, partially finished.
So, instead of buying this place when the lease is up in june, we are moving and buying Nursey/Cop's old house. Nursey doesn't want it, Cop can't keep it, he is leaving May 26 for California.
I have a month to pack, then move, then a month left on the lease to clean and get this house ready to turn back over.
I have two screens to fix which the cats have shredded, and one bedroom carpet to replace (champagne, ½ Pint's bedroom, she spilled hot pink nail polish on it).
Cop is tearing up the carpet in that house (champagne...) because he did in the bedroom and discovered hardwood floors under the carpet. After he is gone (may 26th) I am going to grab the belt sander and go over and sand bedroom, living room, dining room floors and urethane the heck out of them (I have done this before and know what I am doing) then, after a week when the floors have cured completely, we will move in the furniture.
In the interim, I am going to start packing every day, putting everything in boxes, taking 3 or 4 boxes out every trip to town. Garage is cleaned out at new house, I will be putting the boxes in the garage till Cop's furniture gets packed by U.S. Air Force.
Then, THEORETICALLY, (don't you love Theory???), buy then, everything that isn't totally essential and isn't heavy furniture, should already be over at the new house.
I can take the kids over to the new house, and the crew (son, DIL/niece), Baby's ex boyfriend and a few of his friends, and a uhaul...will get the furniture.
(Baby just went out to start the PT, it did not start.) Calling TLPFH. Sigh.
Have a good week all. I have karate today after school till 8 pm, and one of my friends 8th grade daughter is flunking 8th grade and I offered to pick her up after school and take her to karate with me and the three girls..while I am working, and tutor her. Hope I make it.
Victory Perfect Lyrics
Don't Hesitate to live your dream
It's more than worth it if you know what you wanna be
Hey Baby, now is the right time
Today will just pass you by
Tomorrow is so far away
Hey Baby, you gotta believe in yourself
All the way, you know you got what it takes
All the way, you know you got what it takes
So why wait?
Don't Hesitate to live your dream
It's more than worth it if you know what you wanna be
Why wait, now is the right time, oh Yeah
Today will just pass you by
Tomorrow is so far away
Hey Baby, You gotta believe in yourself
All the way, you know you got what it takes, yeah yeah
All the way, you know you got what it takes, So why wait
Today will just pass you by, by
Tomorrow is so far away,
Hey Baby, you gotta believe in yourself
Cause All the way, you know you got what it takes,
Cause All the way, you know you got what it takes,so why wait
Why wait, Why wait,
You're Victory Perfect, ashhh, that's RIGHT darlin!!
