It's About Time...

Ok, so I’ve been kicking around for the last six months, reading blogs and constantly thinking about starting my own. Well, before I start, I guess I should explain a little more about myself. I’m 27, married and have two children. My husband is not the father of my oldest daughter, but she looks at him as her dad since he’s been around more than her real dad. Her real dad is always in touch and sends his child support on time, it’s just that he lives a few states away and has another child there with his girlfriend and that’s something I’ll talk about later. But in short, he’s a good guy and I love his family. My husband and I have been together for about 3 years. From the day we met, we talked about marriage, having a baby just pushed it up earlier than we expected. But, I have to say, I couldn’t have married a better man than him. Tall, good looking and sweet as anything. Neither of us has a job that’s anything special. He works for his father and does side jobs for extra money. I work for a large health insurance company auditing claims. We make enough money to get us what we need and every now and than what we want. We live in a small town of about 7,000 people that is about 30 miles south of one of the largest cities in the country. It’s great because I don’t have to deal with the city if I don’t want to, but I have some where to shop when Wal-Mart, Beall’s and H-E-B don’t have what I want or I need something a little higher on the retail scale. I was in the military for five years. After high school, I had gotten into a nice private university in town, but I wasn’t mentally prepared for college. Even though I was still in the same town I had spent my entire life in, I was finally, kind of, on my own for the first time. I also think I had a problem with anxiety. I loved all the classes I was taking, but I would miss one class then work myself into a frenzy how I could never go back to class because I missed just one. And the funny thing about it is most of my classes had to do with literature and I did all my reading even though I never went to class. So, after being told I couldn’t return after my first semester, I started working for my dad. One day, a friend and I were driving around and she suggested we stop by the recruiter’s office and next thing you know, I’m signed up to join the Navy. Wouldn’t change a thing about it though. I was lucky enough to never be stationed on a ship and never leave the US. I did more traveling in middle and high school than I did in the Navy. Enough about me for now, let me tell you about my family. Both my parents are special education teachers. My mom for a high school, my dad for a middle school. My father was a non-practicing lawyer and owned a restaurant for most of his life, decided to sell the restaurant and retire, but then got bored of being retired. He then couldn’t find a job because he had too much education, was too old, had too much experience, and most companies thought that they would have to pay him too much. So, he went back to school and got his teaching certification. My mother finished up her masters degree in something having to do with special education or educational testing when I was in high school. She went to the same school as my oldest brother and I got to watch both of the graduate walking the same stage. I used to think that my mom was the biggest bitch in the world, but it didn’t take me long to realize that she was just trying to raise me to be a good person with a hard work ethic. There are still many things about her that I don’t understand, but I’ve learned to cope with them. I have two older brothers who are both professionally successful. One is a lawyer and the other works for a large website company fixing things that I can’t even begin to comprehend. The lawyer is an asshole and knows it, but rarely tries to do anything about it. The computer geek is really sweet and I’m trying to find someone to marry him because he needs to have kids because he really is a big kid at heart. The lawyer needs to find a dominatrix to punish him. I am the only one in my family to not have anything higher than a high school diploma. I am trying to rectify that situation. I want to be a forensic accountant and with how long I am taking at getting back into school, I will probably be in my 40s by the time I get to that level. Both my husband and I have Asian best friends. We like to get them together and call them the “Super Asian Best Friends”, like they are our own personal super hero team. My best friend tends to forget that she is Asian and say things such as, “I love Chinese food so much that sometimes I think I should be Asian!” She really is one of the smartest people I know, she just tends not to think about what she says before she says it. Remind me to tell you about the lavender honey one day. I love my little girls. One is 5 and the other is 11 months. The 5 year old is a crazy insane little thing that takes after me. She loves running around at the park and almost anything outdoors. She’s the little girl that’s chasing after bugs instead of the ball at soccer practice. The 11 month old is the spitting image of her daddy and is about as relaxed as he is also. She loves to play peek-a-boo and really thinks that we can’t see her when she covers herself with her blankie and starts crawling away. Right now is the time in her life where I wish I could just freeze time and keep her the way she is forever. I have ADD. My mom started trying to get me diagnosed when I was about 5 years old. She then tried again in high school. When I moved back home after the Navy, she said that one of the conditions of living at home and having them help me with my daughter was to go to a psychologist and get things figured out. So, 20 years after the first time my mom tried to get me diagnosed, the doctor said I was ADD. I have been on Adderall ever since then, excluding my latest pregnancy, and it has helped immensely. My only complaint is that people seem to think that Adderall is responsible for how good I am at my job. It takes them a while to figure it out, but most of them finally come to the conclusion that I’m good at my job even without the meds, but the meds help do my job for longer periods of time. Instead of working for about 10 minutes than getting sidetracked for about 20, I can work until I truly get bored with what I am doing, which most of the time, allows me to complete all the work I need to do for the day. I’m at work in a training class that is supposed to start at 7:30, but never seems to get moving till about 8:00. So, since I get here at 7 a.m. or earlier, I’ve decided to use my extra time productively and, no, not work, blog about things I feel I need to tell other people. Like this morning for example. Motorcyclists are always spouting off about how drivers of cars need to respect them more. And I try my hardest to respect someone on a bike, but when I see one of them do what they did this morning, it really pisses me off. I was taking my baby girl to daycare this morning and I stop and a red light to turn onto the street where the daycare is located. As I’m waiting for the turn signal so I can turn left, a motorcycle comes flying up the road I want to turn onto. A few seconds before he gets to the light it turns red. You see the hesitation produced by the decision of whether to stop or keep going and the sudden braking when the guy made the right decision. I think nothing more of it, grateful that he had decided not to ram his bike into the side of my car on this particular morning. I make my turn and the cars opposite of me start moving when their light turns green. As I get ready to turn into the daycare’s parking lot, I check my rear view mirror to make sure no one is behind me because I don’t trust other drivers to pay attention to my turn signal or my brake lights. There’s no one behind me, but guess what I catch sight of in my rear view? The motorcyclist looking both directions and then taking off through the red light. The beauty of it was that about 5 seconds after he ran the red light, his light turned green. Now, I don’t care who you are, where you’re trying to go, how late you’re running, when the light is red, it’s not a suggestion. Red means stop, green means go. It’s not a hard concept to understand. Even my 5 year old gets it. I’m not going to say that I’ve never run a red light. I have and I will admit to it, but only about two times did I even come to a stop and then go. There is a light at a highway intersection that when you are in the turn left only lane late at night never seems to register that you are there. You will watch the lights cycle over and over and over and over. After about 5 minutes of watching every other light turn green except yours, and your bladder is about to burst, you will look both ways to make sure a cop or other drivers aren’t around and you will drive on. And then you call the police non-emergency line and let them know, but they don’t do anything about it and after you’ve done this a few times, you start to get smart and don’t get into that lane when you’re driving that way late at night. When you’re approaching a green light on a 70 mph highway and it turns yellow a little bit before you’re there and you know that you can’t safely stop your vehicle in the distance before the light and it turns red while you’re going through, that’s okay. I know most people usually sit a little bit after the light turns green anyway to make sure that no one is going to run it. I have so much to say about the drivers in the city I live near and even the drivers in the little town I live in. Seriously, when the speed limit is 40 mph, do you really have to turn in front of me and go 20? You obviously aren’t in a hurry to get anywhere, so why didn’t you just wait for me to pass? It would have taken you an extra 10 or 15 seconds, but it would have been to considerate thing to do and drivers in this area are anything but considerate. Has anyone else noticed that the shorter the distance the driver has to go, the faster he will drive to get there? I have about an hour commute each way, every day and the people who drive the worst are always the ones who just got onto the highway and are taking the next exit. Well, before I start, I guess I should explain a little more about myself. I’m 27, married and have two children. My husband is not the father of my oldest daughter, but she looks at him as her dad since he’s been around more than her real dad. Her real dad is always in touch and sends his child support on time, it’s just that he lives a few states away and has another child there with his girlfriend and that’s something I’ll talk about later. But in short, he’s a good guy and I love his family. My husband and I have been together for about 3 years. From the day we met, we talked about marriage, having a baby just pushed it up earlier than we expected. But, I have to say, I couldn’t have married a better man than him. Tall, good looking and sweet as anything. Neither of us has a job that’s anything special. He works for his father and does side jobs on his own for extra money. I work for a large health insurance company auditing claims. We make enough money to get us what we need and every now and than what we want. We live in a small town of about 7,000 people that is about 30 miles south of one of the largest cities in the country. It’s great because I don’t have to deal with the city if I don’t want to, but I have some where to shop when Wal-Mart, Beall’s and H-E-B don’t have what I want or I need something a little higher on the retail scale. I was in the military for five years. After high school, I had gotten into a nice private university in town, but I wasn’t mentally prepared for college. Even though I was still in the same town I had spent my entire life in, I was finally, kind of, on my own for the first time. I also think I had a problem with anxiety. I loved all the classes I was taking, but I would miss one class then work myself into a frenzy how I could never go back to class because I missed just one. And the funny thing about it is most of my classes had to do with literature and I did all my reading even though I never went to class. So, after being told I couldn’t return after my first semester, I started working for my dad. One day, a friend and I were driving around and she suggested we stop by the recruiter’s office and next thing you know, I’m signed up to join the Navy. Wouldn’t change a thing about it though. I was lucky enough to never be stationed on a ship and never leave the US. I did more traveling in middle and high school than I did in the Navy. Enough about me for now, let me tell you about my family. Both my parents are special education teachers. My mom for a high school, my dad for a middle school. My father was a non-practicing lawyer and owned a restaurant for most of his life, decided to sell the restaurant and retire, but then got bored of being retired. He then couldn’t find a job because he had too much education, was too old, had too much experience, and most companies thought that they would have to pay him too much. So, he went back to school and got his teaching certification. My mother finished up her masters degree in something having to do with special education or educational testing when I was in high school. She went to the same school as my oldest brother and I got to watch both of the graduate walking the same stage. I used to think that my mom was the biggest bitch in the world, but it didn’t take me long to realize that she was just trying to raise me to be a good person with a hard work ethic. There are still many things about her that I don’t understand, but I’ve learned to cope with them. I have two older brothers who are both professionally successful. One is a lawyer and the other works for a large website company fixing things that I can’t even begin to comprehend. The lawyer is an asshole and knows it, but rarely tries to do anything about it. The computer geek is really sweet and I’m trying to find someone to marry him because he needs to have kids because he really is a big kid at heart. The lawyer needs to find a dominatrix to punish him. I am the only one in my family to not have anything higher than a high school diploma. I am trying to rectify that situation. I want to be a forensic accountant and with how long I am taking at getting back into school, I will probably be in my 40s by the time I get to that level. Both my husband and I have Asian best friends. We like to get them together and call them the “Super Asian Best Friends”, like they are our own personal super hero team. My best friend tends to forget that she is Asian and say things such as, “I love Chinese food so much that sometimes I think I should be Asian!” She really is one of the smartest people I know, she just tends not to think about what she says before she says it. Remind me to tell you about the lavender honey one day. I love my little girls. One is 5 and the other is 11 months. The 5 year old is a crazy insane little thing that takes after me. She loves running around at the park and almost anything outdoors. She’s the little girl that’s chasing after bugs instead of the ball at soccer practice. The 11 month old is the spitting image of her daddy and is about as relaxed as he is also. She loves to play peek-a-boo and really thinks that we can’t see her when she covers herself with her blankie and starts crawling away. Right now is the time in her life where I wish I could just freeze time and keep her the way she is forever. I have ADD. My mom started trying to get me diagnosed when I was about 5 years old. She then tried again in high school. When I moved back home after the Navy, she said that one of the conditions of living at home and having them help me with my daughter was to go to a psychologist and get things figured out. So, 20 years after the first time my mom tried to get me diagnosed, the doctor said I was ADD. I have been on Adderall ever since then, excluding my latest pregnancy, and it has helped immensely. My only complaint is that people seem to think that Adderall is responsible for how good I am at my job. It takes them a while to figure it out, but most of them finally come to the conclusion that I’m good at my job even without the meds, but the meds help do my job for longer periods of time. Instead of working for about 10 minutes than getting sidetracked for about 20, I can work until I truly get bored with what I am doing, which most of the time, allows me to complete all the work I need to do for the day. Okay, I am going to stop for now before I write everything that’s in my head and I have nothing more to write. But don’t worry, every day there’s something else that I feel the need to share with everyone