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The Terrible 20s

They call it the terrible 2’s but I think they forgot the zero.

Everyone has heard of the Terrible 2s. I always said Ginja’s Terrible 2’s never stopped, but she is 20 now [almost 21] and this might be tougher.

When they are 2 years old they are physically everywhere and you have to always be chasing them to make sure they are ok and don’t stick their finger in a socket or dive down the stairs. I was exhausted keeping up with my 3 year old niece when she stayed over one weekend, recently. This is why no one should have kids in their late 40’s unless you are a trained ultra-marathoner.

When your kids reach 18, and you aren’t brain fried yet [note: this is closer than you think], as parents you are forced to start backing off. You are still paying for everything like school, health insurance & car insurance but you have to suddenly treat them like an adult. It’s like 18 is a magical age when they can have graduated High School and the government gives them a say and lets them vote so they claim independence… of NOTHING really. By 20 they think they know EVERYTHING about life and you are forced to watch all this go down. I equate it to letting your two year old walk up to a life size electrical socket and trust they won’t stick their finger in it to see what happens.

Sticking your finger in that socket is definitely a fast way to learn a lesson but it isn’t safe. This is why we find other ways to teach them rather than just going for it and letting them learn on their own THE HARD WAY.

That is what it is! When they are twenty you have to hope and pray they don’t learn those life lessons THE HARD WAY. You have to let them learn their own lessons, because they sure as hell don’t want to listen to the parents who know NOTHING, and hope they learn safely and it doesn’t ruin the rest of their lives.

You are forced to watch them struggle into this infancy of real adulthood and you do have to watch because you have to be ready to pick up the pieces.  Then they call… and they are upset and all you want to do is make it better or go deal with the bully that is bothering them but you can’t because the bully is probably their boss but more importantly you just have to try to gently guide them to figure it out.

I’m exhausted!

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DC Fans suck!

Damn! I love me some Jenks.

 

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816

816!

Whenever the time hits 8:16 be it AM or PM I often will yell it out.

It’s become a joke in our family and Hophead and/or Ginja will do it now too. I’ve got them trained well.

816 is today’s date it is also the anniversary of Elvis’s death in 1977. Madonna was born on this day, but even better is it is…

MY BIRTHDAY!

I admit I’m always weird about my birthday. Not really sure why. As a kid everyone was away on summer vacation, or we were away at the beach, so parties with my friends didn’t happen much. I guess I try to overcome my weirdness and remind my family of the date all year long. I’m surprised they don’t yell out their birthday times too, although Hophead did once. I’d like to get in the habit of doing this for all our birthdays and for the kids to annoy their friends yelling out their birthday times.

Not too long ago Experian came out with a commercial just for me (not really but I like to think that).

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A Nation of Assholes

Opinions are like Assholes… everyone has one. We are a nation of Assholes, which is very evident by the narrow minded posting all over social media.

I am so tired of the negativity over the newest form of equality Americans have been given. Every time more people are given rights to live more freely in this country people bitch and moan and groan. Remember where you live… Home of the free land of the …. No… Not brave. Not many here are brave just pansies.

I can’t even imagine how hard it must be to break from the so-called normal and do what feels right to your core. Knowing people will persecute you. That is Brave!

Standing up for what you believe [or don’t believe]… That is Brave!

You are allowed to have your opinion but stop the judgment. You have no right to be so judgmental, you are not God.

Stop the bitching and just love your neighbor… unconditionally or keep your judgements to yourself.

my-facebook-wall-looks-looks-like-someone-shit-skittles-all-over-a-confederate-flag-bill-t-9f6ec

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This is My Friend

Have you ever met someone and you just clicked?

There is this chick and at one time, long ago before he met me, she dated my husband. I knew of her and would hear about her now and then. Then we moved to Frederick and this is her town except she was living in Colorado. I would hear about her more after I moved to Frederick.

She is this kick ass Mountain Biker. She has no fear and does the intense downhill (like a ski slope hill) Mountain Biking with some serious speed. The guys all knew her and liked her and the women do too.

This was intimidating to me and then she moved back to Frederick with her husband and son. How could I live up to this woman? What I have I gotten myself into? Now I was hearing about her more. People were excited she was back in town. I was having nightmares.

Then one day, at Frederick’s Annual “In The Streets”. Hophead, Squirrely Gurl and I decided to get out of the sun after throwing back a few beers. Off we went to find a bite to eat but all the restaurants were packed but we are locals now and we knew where to go. When we walked in you could almost hear the dun dun DUN! She was there with her Dad, Husband, son and brand new twins. Uggggh! My head isn’t on straight. All I could do is stare.

So what did we do? We all had dinner together.

When we left Squirrely Gurl says, ‘Wait! What? THAT WAS ANGELA?”

After that we would stop by their house and then they would stop by our house and a friendship grew. Funny thing was she had heard how nice I was and yadda yadda. Seems we were both a little nervous to meet each other.

As a woman it is not easy to make friends the older you get or friends you think of like a Sistah.

Angela

In March this newest Sistah of mine found a lump. Within less than two weeks she was starting chemo because it’s aggressive so she needs to be aggressive. She is Stage 3 and some of the lymph nodes tested positive.

Her husband is a stay-at-home Dad because twins was not what they were expecting. They have lived on a tight budget on Angela’s salary and now this.

So a month has passed and she has had two chemo treatments and a port was placed. This is all happening so fast.

AngelaHead

We are trying to raise money to help out Angela and her family. If you have a little extra you can spare I would be grateful if you could help.

http://www.gofundme.com/AngiesBoobs

Thank you

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Survey says… Delay, Delay, Delay, Undelay, Delay

Back in December I wrote about my new job and travelling.  The delays have been a royal pain lately like a boil* on your butt that has to get worse before it gets better and finally calms down, if it doesn’t burst first.

It started with my flight to Houston three weeks ago. Not a big deal just a lot of turbulence, which I kind of like really, except this kind is where if felt like the plane would suddenly drop. Then the flight home that week; I had switched to an earlier flight not knowing about the massive storms moving into Houston. The flight boarded fast and we pushed off from the gate and then… STOPPED. So many flights were rushing to get out so we got stuck.

We sat there on the tarmac as the first storm came through. I was pleasantly surprised that we were able to take off after that first storm so the delay was minimal until we neared National Airport in DC. There was a delay and we had to circle waiting for an all clear to land.

On take off I snapped this pic.

On take off I snapped this pic. Houston had flooding due to all the rain that weekend

By the time I got to baggage claim my original, later, flight was retrieving their baggage before our flight, but at least my suitcase was the first off my plane.

The next week I worked in Houston until Friday and that flight home got delayed 3 hours. The good thing was I got upgraded because everyone else bailed on that flight.

I was not happy about the 3 hour delay but getting upgraded was good so when the survey came in I ignored it. Until… I saw my miles earned under United’s new mile earning program. With the new program it’s based on money rather than actual miles flown. So with my status, my miles earned have been pretty good and more than actual miles flown. Except for this one flight so I was PISSED and I went and found that survey. I gave the crew good points as best I could and then when it came to the comments I rattled off my anger in the most concise manner I could muster. In my comments I mentioned, as I have mentioned before, that base points should be awarded to the flyer when delays are due to the airline rather than Mother Nature or something beyond their control.

I did get an email from the airline, aside from my survey, apologizing for the delay and they did give miles but not base miles.

This past week I was flying home as normal, on Thursday. Around 10am I got an email from United that the flight was delayed 1 hour and 20 minutes. Uggggh! Not again? Within a half hour I got another email that we were on-time again. Undelayed? So happy because I couldn’t take another week of delays and my poor hubby who picks me up, I am SO thankful he does this.

At the gate we were told National was delaying us because of storms in the DC area but only by 30 minutes. When they decided to board us it was fast but then they delayed us again… in the plane… then on the tarmac.

Well I am finally home and I am not flying next week. So here I am Saturday morning and Hophead and I are at our computers and I get an email from United. I feel like they are calling me out on my scathing, ranting comments in the survey and they kind of are but I like this. It tells me my surveys don’t go into never never land.

Surveys are everywhere and it’s nice to know they are seen, reviewed and heard even if we do sound like ranting idiots on them.

United

 

*Please note that I have no experience with boils on butts. Thank you
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My Baby is 20!

Mom and meMini Red, a/k/a Ginja, is 20 today!

Can you believe that?

Kiddo, I love you to the moon and back.

-Mama Red

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