My head casplode!!!

I have hit a wall.

It is a big, gigantic...dare I admit gargantuan wall.

On Saturday I take the CQA exam. What is that you ask? It is a nationally recognized self induced torture my friends. It is the stupidity of trying to add depth to my knowledge in hopes of someday increasing my value in the work force. No one asked me to take this incredibly subjective, completely asinine, and unbelievably expensive test. I did this to myself. For some reason studying for hours upon hours, taking practice test after practice test, getting up at 6 am on a Saturday, and taking 5 hours to answer 150 questions that in no way relate to the information I have been studying sounded fun!

The wall is big my friends! I can study no more. I cannot answer anymore questions. I have been unable to achieve higher than a 75% on the practice tests and that is with an open book. The questions, when they aren't completely subjective, are reliant entirely on my ability to decode the authors semantics. They are, IN NO WAY, based on the content of the reading.


Certified Quality Auditor my left posterior article! I will be a certified linguistic code breaker! That is...IF I PASS! If not then I will be certifiable but that is about it.
I want to scream and hit things, but my kids are asleep.

A crazy little thing called....physics

This morning, two of my children got a hands on lesson in Newtonian physics. It is always painful when these things happen. Very few of these lessons end well. For my kids, things went better than they might have....small favors. Like almost all Newtonian lessons, stupidity played a major roll. Many of the yearly Darwin awards are adjudged to individuals testing physical laws. In this case, though, it was more lack of experience stupidity than pure moronic stupidity.

My son populates the top bunk in the room he shares with his little brother. This bunk bed has been a source of many a minor injury as it is used less as a bed and more as catapult/jungle gym/antediluvian torture device. They find new and better ways to hurt each other every day. This morning, my husband and I were torn from sleep by a very loud and vicious thump. I went to investigate with John on my heals. When I entered the room, my son was laying on the bottom bunk clutching his stomach. My oldest daughter was sitting next to him comforting him with the very compassionate words..."your not gonna die Drake". I inquired about the sound and apparent resultant injury. My question was met with immediate silence and the fearful look of the guilty. I pressed further for an explanation. Their eyes met for only the briefest of moments and then Drake said..."Breena kicked me and I flew into the wall" I was enraged! She shot back..."it was his idea" For a moment I was taken aback...it was his idea for his sister to kick him into a wall? Intriguing! I questioned further.

Seems my son got the grand and very idiotic idea that if you hang from the underside of the top bunk, you can swing out. If someone is standing next to the bed, you can kick him/her ninja style. It is all very TMNT. He had performed this stunt on his older and, might I add, much larger/heavier sister with no apparent ill result. He then decided, since is went so well when he tried it on her, that they should reverse rolls. He did think ahead. It appears he was worried about being struck. In an attempt to protect himself from the impact, he held his large oversize teddy bear in front of him as padding. You see... he's no dummy!

Here comes the physics lesson. 52 pound Drake, pitted against a 78 pound Breena. Add in velocity and the small area of impact (only her feet). It all equals NOT GOOD!

His sister mounted the bed and prepared to swing out. As she moved to attack, a premonitory "high-ya" tore from her lips. Her feet connected with the teddy bear. Drake flew backwards and into the wall. Physics in action my friends!

They weren't punished heavily. The lesson was self taught.

Global Warming verse Al Gore...which is the real farse?

Well my fine friends...or in this case my brother who is really the only person who reads this. Al Gore has taken a hit. Poor guy can't even legitimately win a Nobel. Check out this link...http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,303525,00.html

Seems that a Judge ruled that students who watch his Goreumentary on global warming must be warned of its lack of substantiated scientific information. There is also discussion that more that 25% of the film would need to be removed due to its lack of scientific data, falsifications, and blatant impossibilities. Give it a read. I know I found it interesting.

The mystery yet unresolved

The young ones are tucked in bed. Once again earlier than required as a punishment for breaking one of the very simple rules of the house. We have 5 rules in our house. They are basic. I think most homes have them. They are:

1 - no running (you could squish a cat)
2- no jumping off of things (you could squish a cat or hurt the squishy parts of you)
3- no throwing things (you could break things or get broken by things)
4- be honest and trustworthy (never lie...ever...it is so much worse)
5- be polite and respectful (if it ain't yours, don't mess with it. If it is yours, put it away)

I sit here on my couch in my pajamas. My frosty toes wrapped in a blanket hoping insulation and friction might one day soon bring them warmth. Coke Zero, a sad substitute for the cookies in the pantry, is going down like butter beer on a Hogsmead weekend. I'm contemplating the difficulty of these 5 simple rules.

My offspring believe, with the whole of their hearts, that these 5 rules are the most unjust of all rules. If we were to search the lengths and breadths of the land we would be want to find any other rules as unjust and truly horrible as the 5 we have inflicted upon these poor mistreated children.

Three days in a row we have had to sit down and discuss the 5 rules. We have talked about each in depth. We have explained why each was put in place. We have asked each child to recite them back to us as a confirmation that each has indeed absorbed the information. Each day they immediately go away from the discussion and immediately break one of said rules. Yesterday my eldest son sat with me for 15 minutes and discussed rule #1 - no running. He had broken the rule just moments before and I wanted to make sure he understood the rule. I was giving him a chance to learn without punishment. I sat with him, discussing the whys and wherefores of the rule. After the discussion he pledged to never ever run in the house again. His round innocent eyes blazed into my heart and I believed him. I told him I would love it if he could follow the rules, but if he did find a way to break it again, his punishment would come swift and sure. He once again pledged eternal vigilance. I let him go from the discussion, sure that this time I had gotten through. My son walked 5 steps from the table where we had just completed the discussion and then took off running to his bedroom. He went to bed an hour early for his crimes.

His sisters are no better. After numerous discussion on throwing things, these two twin terrors have found themselves serving early bedtimes in lieu of hard time.

Today, I entered my home, my place of refuge from the world. I greet my children, dutifully and diligently working on their homework. My trouble sensor flicks to "on". Somethings up. Why are they being so...good? I begin searching my home, quietly. I don't want to draw attention to the fact that I am suspicious. My searching reveals nothing significant. So why are they acting so...good? For one brief moment I allow myself to believe they aren't the con-artists that I almost accused them of being. Ahhhhh...the deep sigh of an overreaction lay to rest. I take my stuff to my bedroom in hopes of a relaxing night. My room is...not quite right. I can't figure it out. Something is wrong. The smell of my perfume still hangs in the air like I just put it on, my pillows are...not right, my makeup is in the wrong place...

It hits me like a long wooden pole in a jousting competition. They had been in there!!! They were playing in my room. That is rule #5 - be polite and respectful. My room is off limits. I went out to the kitchen and there sat my three children. Angelic looks upon their young innocent faces. All three held up their homework, hoping to invoke my pride and distract me from whatever my thoughts were...con-artists everyone. I asked calmly, "who was in my room?" My son, unwilling to go down alone, blurted out "they did it too!!!" His sisters shot him death ray glares. It is lucky for him they haven't actually honed that power yet. My youngest daughter turned to me and asked "how did you know?" The question was not asked out of penance. No, it was asked as a form of re-con. What she was really saying was something along the lines of "we will want to do it again some day soon, and we wanted to know what it was that gave us away. We will need to cover the trail better next time. Any information you, Mother, could supply us with would be of great help in future schemes."

They went to bed early again. I am not sure if it is the best punishment, but they seem to hate it when they can't stay up and it keeps me from inflicting punishments that would bring into question parental rights.

It is not that hard!!!!

So here I am at work. Frustrated as usual.... sorry to any of you that read this blog. I tend to write most when I am frustrated. Anyway, I have been charged with organizing a training system at "the Lab", as my place of business will furthermore and always be known as. The idea is that we are hiring, at a whiplashing speed may I add, college graduates. The problem with the newly papered group is that they come out of school with a big head and no useful practical application. They are however favored over those of us.....who are less papered than the mighty graduates. We have simply worked in the industry for more than 10 years and actually come with practical, hands on knowledge. Why would that be useful I wonder?????

I guess the papers make them smarter then us? If you use that arguements with dogs, you loose. The papered ones are...less than bright and come with a myriad of genetic defects. You wanna good dog? Go with a mutt! They ain't got no papers, but they are teachable and smart! I'm a microbiological mutt. No papers, but good instincts.

Sorry, I diverted. So we have a load of papered people with no practical knowledge testing the medical devices used on you by your doctor on your next hospital visit. Ya...I felt the chill too.

I have been charged with giving the papered the knowledge they would have gotten if they weren't off getting all papered in the first place. Actually, I have to arrange our Senior scientists to teach them about their tests. This seems simple enough. I locate areas where problems are occuring, I assign one of the two best Scientists in the industry (yup we have them both) to work with these people to get them straightened out. It is a bloody nightmare!

These two brilliant men, and I do mean brilliant! There is no sarcasm there. These men know more about testing medical devices and pharmaceuticals than pretty much anyone in the industry, including the mighty and powerful FDA. But they have one problem......

They have no idea how to check their schedules! These men can quote governmental regulations verbatum. They can do portions of quantum physics in their heads...but they can't access their groupwise!!!

I need a coke!

I am back and I am Stephens

Ok......so it has been a few days since I updated my blog. Things have been happening.....what can I say.

So I got divorced. It may have been the wacky hours I was working. It could have been all the days he mentioned to me that he never worried about me and could sleep soundly if I didn't come home. He wouldn't worry that I hadn't made it home. It could have been that too. It might have been the one time he mentioned to me that he would never have gotten married if it hadn't been commanded by God....that should have probably triggered something......OR... maybe it was the day he came home from work, found me balled up on the kitchen floor crying hysterically...very close to complete mental and physical break down.

What would your response be? If you came home from work and found your significant other, to whom you are bound and supposed to love, on the floor of the kitchen in complete melt down mode?

I think most human beings (non-mutant) would respond with compassion. They would go to their beloved, hold them, figure out the problem and do everything to fix whatever was making him or her so completely distraught. Am I wrong in that thinking?

The response from Brent (going forward his name has been changed to Asshat...I apologize to anyone who sensitivities are offended by that....it is really the only name that fits) anyway, his response was to look at me, say something along the lines of "gee, sorry your day isn't going well", and the ask me what was for dinner.

I think that was it. The moment that I realized that he didn't love me....that he probably had never really loved me...and most important, I did not love him.

I asked him to leave two weeks later. He was stunned. He still is stunned. I think he will always be stunned. Something happened in his life that wasn't his idea and dictated by him. That would be stunning to a man like him I suppose.

I forced the divorce through quickly. It is easy to do when you want nothing from him, want to get away from him, and have an awesome family that will rally around you and help even if they think you are making a mistake. I really don't know what each of them thinks about the situation. It didn't matter then and it doesn't matter now. It is amazing. There is such peace and clarity in finally telling yourself the truth. I spent years in misery, married and completely alone. I worried, years earlier, when I wanted to leave, about what "people" would think. What would I say, how could I explain my failure. It comes down to this.............

NO ONE KNOWS WHAT YOUR LIFE IS LIKE. THE ALL ENCOMPASSING "THEY" HAVE NO IDEA. IT IS NOT UP TO THEM. IT ISN'T WORTH THE WORRY.

You get to a point when the "they" don't matter anymore......and there is peace. The "they" that are really important, will love and support even if they don't understand. If they don't support? Well you now have the answer to who should really matter in your life.

I got some very hurtful counsel from a well meaning Stake president. At first I really hated him. I wanted scream at him. As time has passed I now realize that he just didn't understand the situation. He couldn't understand. He just didn't have the ability to understand a marriage where there was no love. It wasn't in him. For him, every marriage has bumps. That is true. But he was assuming that every marriage also had love and devotion. He was wrong. There was obligation, and nothing else. You cannot fix a marriage built and founded on obligation. It is like the analogy of the foolish man building his house on the sand. No solid foundation. That sucks come hurricane season.

Ok, so why is my name Stephens and not Porter the way it should be????

Here is the fairytale part of it!

Life is not always as easy to predict as many of us believe it would be. This guy, John. Unassuming friend. Roleplaying buddy. Fellow browncoat. Stumbled into my life. Quite unexpectedly.

It wasn't supposed to happen. I was supposed to live out the rest of my life with a big sturdy wall around my heart. I was supposed to become a man hater; a solid, do it myself sufficient single mom. I was building that wall. It was going up. John sort of stealthily moved in there and took my mortar. It is really hard to build a wall when there is nothing to make it stick. He did that for me.

He has taught me love. I didn't know it was possible to love being married. Now it has only been 5 months, but it seems like it should always have been.

He loves me.

Such a simple statement, but you wouldn't believe the struggle it has been to accept. He likes that I am quirky. He likes that I randomly break into song, that I like to dance to music when I cook dinner (most importantly he dances with me), that I believe in fairies (and gnomes, and dwarfs, and elves, and most importantly dragons), that I constantly analyze everything, that I am me in everyway. I don't have to feel bad about everything I am and I don't have to change for him. I can just be me. My life is no longer a lie. It is truth in all its imperfect and wonderful glory. He doesn't just love me....he likes me too. So wierd!

My husband is my best friend and I thank my Father in Heaven every day for the trial he gave me so that I can understand every day how precious and rare my John is.