You can’t judge a person by their eyes.

Or their name?  Or their voice?  Or, can you?

To start, I need to share this story of how my work day started on Tuesday.  As you know I’m a nurse, and I work (part-time) at a surgical center.  On Tuesday I was assigned to circulate in one of the OR’s.  My very very first case of the day went like this:

(Anesthesiologist brings patient into the room)..

Me (to patient):  “Hi, my name is Tami, I’ll be one of the nurses in the room with you today.  Can you tell me your first and last name and date of birth?”

Patient:  “What race are you?”

Me:  “Excuse me?”

Patient:  “I said, what race are you?!  You’re not American, are you?”

Me:  “Yes, yes I am.”

Patient:  “Well, you sure don’t look like it!”

Now, I don’t know if you’ve ever been in an operating room, but all the OR staff are wearing surgical hats, masks, and scrubs.  So, this is what he could see of me:

(oh, and please excuse my wonky eyebrows which need waxing!)

After his accusation of my not being “American,” he then went on to say this:

“You know what the problem is in this country?  Overcrowding!  They started letting too many people in, and when you get too many people, that’s when you get the fighting!”

I can only assume I am one of the people he was referring to.  He never did confirm what “race” he actually thought I was.

Did this bother me?  Not really.  Why?  Because this tirade is just one example on my growing list of such accusations.

Within the past month I also had the scheduler for my MRI ask me my race and when I said “Caucasian,” she said, “You’re not Hispanic or African American?”  And this was over the phone, she didn’t even see me!  I don’t believe I was speaking in Spanish or Ebonics, but I guess I can’t be certain.

I also had another patient at work look at my name tag and say “What kind of a name is that?”  When I said I didn’t understand what she was asking she said, “Is that ethnic, or something?”  Now, my name is Tamara (which my sister insists is an African American name), but my nametag says “Tami.”

All of this was comical at first, but now it’s starting to get annoying.  However, if I say it’s annoying to friends or co-workers, then they say, “Why, are you racist?”  Umm, no.  It’s like if you had a baby girl and every time you took her out people asked you if she was a boy, you would probably find it irritating after awhile.  It’s not that you have anything against boys, but your daughter isn’t a boy.

I wish I could say I see why people are asking me this, but I just can’t.  The most popular response I have received from people who know me on this subject is that maybe I resemble Halle Barry…

I wish!

You’re not my friend anymore!

In my adult working life I have seen first hand how mean and vicious women can be, especially to other women. Did you ever wonder when and why this behavior started? Well, friends, I have figured out the “when.”

Alivia has gone to the same daycare since she was 3 months old. She only goes 2-3 days a week, but she has made several good friends there over the past (almost) 6 years. When she was 4 she started preschool at Assumption school, where she would be starting kindergarten the next year. Now, the daycare does have a preschool, but we thought it would be best for her to go to preschool at Assumption, so that her transition into kindergarten would be smoother. Who knew such a small decision could turn a 4 year old into an outcast? Who knew you had to attend a daycare 5 days a week in order to maintain friendships?

I shouldn’t be so dramatic because I suppose her becoming an outcast didn’t happen instantly at that time, but it has been more of a slow progression. The worst part for me, is that Alivia adores these girls at her daycare, and they can be downright mean to her.

What? What’s that you say? How can 5 and 6 year olds be so mean? Let me tell you! In the past 3 month Alivia has:

• Received what I have lovingly coined “hate mail” in her backpack
• Been excluded from a girl’s birthday party who was included in Alivia’s Libby Lou birthday party last year
• Been kicked out of a talent show routine while we were on vacation
• Been told her outfit didn’t match (trust me, it did match!) and that brown was a boy color
• Been made fun of for riding a bike with training wheels. As a side note, now that her training wheels are off, some of her “friends” have asked to ride her bike, and Alivia has happily shared.
• Been excluded from what her friends were playing, with the reason of “This is a 6 year old activity, and you’re only 5!”

The list could honestly go on and on. My point is this: When do women turn into mean, conniving bitches? 5 years old people, 5 years old.

I’m not saying a word.

Okay, I admit it, I am the worst blogger ever. It’s not that I have nothing to say either, really I do…

I could tell you about the 5K which I ran last month, and placed 2nd (or 3rd, depending on how you look at it) in my age group. But, if I told you about that, you might be jealous of my mad running skills.

What if I told you about how I was so excited after the 5K that I decided to train for a half marathon in October? However, if I told you about that I would also have to tell you about how I may have to give up due to shin splints and a popping painful left knee...and I wouldn't want you to think I am a quitter, would I?

Maybe you would like to hear about my baby girl turning 4 years old this month, and the 72 cupcakes I made and 3 birthday parties we had? But if I told you that, then maybe you, along with the rest of the world might ask me when I'm going to have another baby. And then I would have to slap you, and we don't want that, do we?

I bet you would love to hear about how one of my breast implants has somehow rotated and flip flopped around in the capsule it's supposed to be nicely tucked in. But, then you might ask me how it happened and when I tell you I don't know, you might conjure up perverted ideas and suggestions of what I may have been doing when it happened.

I know! I could tell you about our wonderful trip to The Great Wolf Lodge in Traverse City with my parents in which we also went to the world famous "Moomer's Ice-Cream?" That might make you hungry for ice-cream, and jealous of the chocolate-no-bake ice cream I had, so I guess I won't bring that up.

Maybe I should mention that we celebrated my Mom’s birthday yesterday with a mini surprise party at Graydon’s Crossing – Derby Station. The very same place we had my 29th surprise party just 9 short months ago. I shouldn’t say that though, because then you might realize my 30th birthday is just around the corner!

I probably shouldn’t post the above picture either, with my parents and my sister and brother. If I post that picture you might see that my sister is pregnant with her 4th child!

Ok, here is a little known secret…Shawn and I have been doing the “Love Dare” book from the movie “Fireproof.” It’s an awesome book, and the movie is very powerful too. However, doing it together, instead of individually has proven very difficult. I shouldn’t tell you that though because I would hate for you not to try taking the “Love Dare” yourself!

Maybe I will tell you that the reason I have been too busy to blog is because we’ve been soaking up every last minute of summer, since these two cuties will be starting school in almost a week!

Actually, I’m not going to tell you that because then I would have to admit that summer is nearly over!