The Aftermath

[Follow-up to Finally a reason to smile.]

What happens when you take a three year old from his mother for a week, deny him the pictures of his mother that she sent with him on the trip and deny phone calls to his mother when he is missing her? Trauma, of course.

It wasn’t immediately noticeable what changes occured to my son because of this trip. He did seem to follow me around the house a bit more closely when I was cleaning or whatnot, but that was to be expected. It wasn’t until about five days after he returned, and his first day back at the church he and I go to, that the change was obvious.

Lies and slander!!!!

What heresy is this?!

An oldie but a goodie

This post is from 2005 and is freaking hilarious.

I’m in a decent relationship right now. It’s been two months and there have been no really big arguments. She scratches my head nonstop, gives me awesome massages, and even brings me food when I’m too worn out from work to go anywhere.

Since moving out on my own, she gave me even better advice on how to do my laundry than my grandmother did.

Flashback:

“Okay Justin, here’s what grandma does..”

She then bends over to separate the clothes, accidentally farts but doesn’t notice it.

“First, you do what my school did when I was a little one. You separate the whites from the colored.”

Thanks racist grandma.

My beginnings in emergency medicine, Part I

Once upon a time, I was an EMT.  For those of you not in the know, an EMT is an Emergency Medical Technician. EMTs, along with EMT-P’s or Paramedics, are on the front lines of emergency medical care. It’s an EMT or EMT-P that answers that “I’ve fallen and can’t get up call.”  It’s the EMT or EMT-P that you see pulling unfortunate victims out of a pile of tangled metal on the freeway. And it’s a life I wish I had never left.

When I was young, I never said “I want to be an EMT when I grow up.” I did say I wanted to be a veterinarian, or a fire fighter. As I got older, I realized that I could never be a vet. My business would go broke trying to save the animals past saving, or the beloved pets of those unable to pay, or my house would grow full to the rafters with the abandoned or abused pets that came into my care. You don’t give a crack addict crack — you don’t give an animal addict animals. Simple as that.

Finally a reason to smile

My three year old son, LG, returned today from a holiday trip to visit his father’s family in The South. I’m in The Midwest. Eight hours by car, an hour and a half by plane, an eternity away for my heart.

According to R-ex‘s own attorney’s divorce documents served so kindly to me, since R-ex and I are still living in the same household, we are to abide by the same manner of living that we had been before the divorce filing. Before the divorce filing, we had our son with us, in our home, for Christmas mornings. Before the divorce filing, and even after, my son had never spent more than a single night away from either parent. Suddenly R-ex decides it’s his right to take our son for 8 days and seven nights to The South.