Pearson VUE and a Tattoo

I really miss my ex-coworkers.  That sounds so bad, like I am divorced from them: my "ex-coworkers".  I left there simply because we relocated to Texas.  If we were living in Minnesota, I would still be employed there.  I LOVED it there.  Why?  Because of the team that I worked with.

When I interviewed at Pearson VUE, I had no idea what the company did.  I had never heard of "computer-based testing".  I had gotten laid off from my previous employer, and was having visions of being laid off for months and months as I struggled to find another job.  Surprisingly, I was only laid off for two weeks when I interviewed and was offered the position at Pearson VUE.

You know when you just click with a group of people, and it feels right?  The team that I worked with there were absolutely wonderful.  My supervisor said it the best when she said, "I think why we work so well together is that we all genuinely like each other."

So true!  I genuinely liked the people that I worked with.  I was closer with some more than others, but we were always laughing and having a good time while we worked.  When you spend eight hours a day with your team, they become your surrogate family.

One of my co-workers, Trinia, knew that I had a tattoo and when I announced that I was leaving the company due to my husband's job relocation, she suggested that we get tattoos together before I left for Texas.  Trinia was like my work sister.  (Trinia's real sister actually works there, too, but that's a different story.)  I came to care about her like I would a real sister, and I thought it was a fabulous idea!

I wasn't planning on getting another tattoo.  You are either a tattoo lover, or you aren't.  Most people that I know personally don't really care for tattoos.  I had gotten a tattoo about 7 years ago on my ankle, and it is a one-of-a-kind tattoo in that it incorporates three letter C's intertwined with each other, representing each of my children whose names all begin with the letter C.  The artist incorporated my vision of the three C's and also put some lovely cherry blossoms in the design.  However, I am not one of those people who get addicted to getting tattoos.  (Most people who get tattoos will tell you that they are addicting.)

When Trinia suggested that we get tattoos together, I knew immediately that I wanted to get a tattoo that incorporated the universal symbol for autism.  Corbin was diagnosed with autism four months before I left Pearson VUE, and it was something deeply personal to me.  Getting an autism-inspired tattoo was how I wanted to honor him, support him, and raise awareness.  Perfect!

The Autism Awareness Ribbon — The puzzle pattern reflects the mystery and complexity of the autism spectrum. The different colors and shapes represent the diversity of the people and families living with the condition. The brightness of the ribbon signals hope — hope that through increased awareness of autism, and through early intervention and appropriate treatments, people with autism will lead fuller, more complete lives. (Source: Autism Society.)

I knew that I wanted to get a tattoo on the top of my foot.  My real step-sister, Lindsey, has a tattoo that she designed herself on the top of her foot and I loved the look of it.  My last day of work was scheduled for January 31.  Monday, January 20, was Martin Luther King Day and Pearson VUE was closed for the holiday.  So, armed with my photo of my autism ribbon, Trinia and I headed to the tattoo shop.  The name of the shop is called Aloha Monkey, and it is the exact same shop that I got my first tattoo at 7 years prior.

The first thing that happened with my tattoo artist was that he told me that the ribbon would have to be very large on my foot, in order to incorporate the ribbon because the puzzle pieces were intricate and you didn't want all of the lines to bleed together.  I was so bummed.  I didn't want a giant tattoo that covered my entire foot.  Tattoos are charged based on intricacy and size.  I didn't have $600 to spend, first of all, and secondly, I just didn't want a ginormous tattoo on my foot!  [After I got my tattoo, I found a photo of exactly what I wanted, which basically proved that my tattoo artist was wrong -- he could have done the size that I was requesting, no problem.]

The artist then suggested that I incorporate the four different colors of the puzzle pieces into a tattoo.  My second choice for a tattoo was the autism butterfly. I started looking though their books to find a butterfly design that I liked.  I was happy if we could somehow link an autism butterfly, or perhaps just a regular butterfly, with the puzzle pieces.

The autism butterfly symbolizes something that is already unique that transforms into something that is more beautiful.  This parallels with people living with autism.  Where we cannot judge what someone would be like in the future as transformations happen throughout their lives as they mature.  As they blossom from their cocoon, their true colors of what they are surface and show their true beauty.  (Source: Autism Society.)

 The tattoo artist drew something up for me.  Although I was disappointed that I didn't get to use my original idea for a design, the alternative was cool.  It had scrolling filigree lines that incorporated a butterfly and the four different color autism puzzle pieces.

Here's the final tattoo:

The stars were a part of the filigree design from the book at the tattoo shop, but it is a way to honor my two NT girls (neuro-typical, for those of you who don't speak autism lingo).  The girls are all-star cheerleaders, and all-star cheerleading is a big part of our lives.

The above photos were taken today, two months after receiving the tattoo.  I needed to wait until my foot healed for a normal photo.  Four days after I got the tattoo, I ended up in Urgent Care with an infected foot.

The photo above shows my normal sized foot (above, left) and my infected foot (above, right).  I had no ankle; it became a "cankle".  Walking on it was extremely painful, causing me to limp like a gimp.  The tattoo itself became extremely hot to the touch, which was one of the signs that it had become infected (in addition to the swelling).  I also had developed a fever.

The doctor told me that it was a puncture wound infection caused by the tattoo needles.  It was a fluke, and was NOT caused by anything the tattoo parlor did wrong.  However, they wanted me to take it seriously because it could have become a blood infection if not treated properly.  They gave me a shot of antibiotics right there in the exam room, and sent me home with oral antibiotics to follow up with.  I was to stay off my feet for the next few days to try to keep the swelling down.

It came at the worst time, because I was supposed to be organizing a move across the country.  It also made me cut my end date for working a day and a half shorter.  The team had organized a goodbye lunch for me so I could say farewell, and it ended up being canceled.  I had to go into the office for about an hour, clean out my desk, and limp away with my tail between my legs.  SO NOT WHAT I WANTED!!!  I had a really great relationship with my work family, and it ended up being very awkward and embarrassing departure.

As I said earlier, I didn't find this picture until AFTER I already got my tattoo.  This is exactly what I originally wanted (without the name Tyler, of course - just the ribbon):

 I'm not really sure if my tattoo artist was unable to see my vision, or was just unable to do the design based on his skill set.  Either way, my tattoo ended up being another original - nobody else has the same design as me.  Since autism is based on the same premise - each case of autism is unique, I guess that is all right by me!

When I look at my tattoo, I am reminded of my son and his daily struggle with autism.  Because his diagnosis is so new, getting him the therapy he needs has been slow in coming.  I cannot wait for the day he turns into a butterfly!!!

I am also reminded of my job at Pearson VUE, because I went with Trinia to get the tattoo. Trinia got a tattoo the same time as I was getting my tattoo. Trinia got a tattoo on her leg in honor of her brother.  It was a gorgeous, colorful bird and it turned out beautiful!  (Trinia did not get an infection, by the way - which also proves that it was a fluke for me.)  I can say with pretty much 100 percent certainty that I won't be getting any more tattoos - but I am grateful for the experience.

Spring Break

We have two visitors for spring break here in Texas!

Carly's friend, Whisper, bravely flew solo to Houston to visit for 5 days, arriving last Friday.  The girls have been inseparable and the giggles have been plenty.  Whisper will be flying home on Wednesday and she has been a joy to have here.

Courtney flew down on Sunday and will be here for 8 days.  Since Carly's spring break was last week, Carly is in school during the day, so Courtney keeps Whisper company during the day.  Courtney and Whisper had an adventure today, driving to Taco Bell solo - Whisper put "Taco Bell" in her GPS and they ended up going to one 19 miles away.  (There is a Taco Bell just down the street from us!)  They ended up on the highway - I have no idea how they managed to avoid the tolls.  Silly girls!

Courtney and Chad will be going to visit Courtney's college on Thursday.   Courtney is looking forward to see where she will be starting college in the fall!  I am just happy to have all of my family together under one roof.  :)

DIY Home Decorating Project

We are pretty "settled" as far as getting unpacked, but we are far from having this home completed.  We have two empty rooms and plenty of open walls and spaces that need some home decorating.

Our kitchen, for example, needs a kitchen table.  We have not been able to find the right fit.  I did find the perfect set online for a decent price, but they only shipped to Arizona and California! Boo! We eat at the dining room table for now, but it will be nice to have a kitchen table for the kids to eat a quick bowl of cereal in the morning.

Our formal living room is also an empty space.  We are still debating on whether or not we will be making it a home office for Chad or putting living room furniture in there.  This house has a formal living room space, a family room space, and a game room space.  Down here, every house has a "game room".  The realtor explained that it just a place for the kids to be separate from adults.  Since we only had two sets of furniture, and they are definitely not formal style, we put our furniture in the family room and the game room.

Anyway, I was surfing Pinterest on DIY Home Decorating Projects, and I came across some canvas paintings that I absolutely LOVED.  It's funny, I told Chad that I wanted to do some paintings for our house and he looked at me like, really?  I told him yes, that I saw something on Pinterest and I wanted to try it.  He flat out told me, "I don't think I like that idea."  UGH.  I finally showed him the link and he was okay with it.

The paintings are fool proof.  You literally cannot screw them up!  They are impressionistic beach scenes.  I will post the link at the bottom of this article.

Although Courtney doesn't live with us right now, she will need a room of her own.  We also need a room for family to stay, so we have a spare bedroom that will serve as Courtney's room/guest bedroom.  The bedspread is blue and tan, so the beach scene canvases will go perfect in that room.

The first step was to pick out the canvas.  I went to Michaels and got two, two-packs of 18x24 canvases, so I could do a three-canvas spread, as the original poster did hers.

Following the directions on the link, I applied molding paste to the canvases to give the canvas texture.  Since the original poster used her pie server to apply the paste instead of spending money on a trowel, I saved myself some money and did the exact same thing.  I used my pie server to apply the molding paste, and let the canvases dry for 24 hours.

Here is a photo of the molding paste on my canvas.

The next step was to apply the paint.  This is the best part of the project - you literally cannot screw this up.  Since my scene was to start with the sand and end with the water, I started on the bottom and applied layers of browns.

Here's my fancy art palette - a paper plate.

 I will admit I had some screw ups on the way.  The best part is, that if you screw up, you just paint over it.

Here, I dropped some blue paint on my waves.  I was a little careless.

Here, I opened my white paint bottle with a little too much zest and splattered into my sand.  Oops!
 

This project was so fun.  I had a great time with my beach scene creation.  It looks really great in the bedroom, which has now been affectionately named "The Beach Room".  I love it!

 

I did not do my beach scene exactly like the original poster, but I was inspired from the picture that she posted of the water in Cancun, Mexico, where she honeymooned:

Now, to give credit where credit is due, here is a link to the original project:

http://www.myclevernest.com/2012/03/fool-proof-diy-painting.html

My little DIY art project cost less than $37, and I did it myself.  Don't you just love it?!?!?

Bounce

We left our trampoline in Minnesota and we knew the kids would miss it, so we got the a new trampoline for Texas.

 

We ordered it from Walmart and it came in three heavy boxes.  It took us two days to put together; not because it was difficult, but because Carly was begging us to put it up when Chad got home from work and we ran out of daylight on day 1.

The directions were clearly translated from some other language in to English, as there were a few directions that left us scratching our heads.  Luckily there were pictures to guide us along the way.

Ta Da!  A little bit of home in our backyard.

Update: School Woes

I spoke to the school counselor, the school psychologist, and the assistant principal with regard to the two separate incidents that happened at Corbin's school yesterday.

With regard to the teacher who said she was going to stalk the students and make them do 100 push ups in class if they didn't do their work, they agreed that it wasn't the best approach on how to relay a message to their students.  The counselor spoke with Corbin and explained to him that the teacher didn't really mean it literally, and that nobody was going to be forced to do 100 pushups in front of the class if they didn't get their work done.  Corbin said that he guesses that he knew that she didn't mean him personally, but that "her face was so angry and serious".  I am proud of him for trying to take social cues from her facial expressions.  This is something that he needs therapy for and the process has been slow on getting him any sort of help.

With regard to the student that was slapped by an "assistant":  Yesterday Corbin was in a combined class due to his normal teacher not being available for that period.  There was a student who was being disruptive in class, and the substitute teacher (not his normal teacher) put his hands on the misbehaving student's shoulders and sat him in the chair behind the teacher's desk.  The student over exaggerated his movements and pushed the chair back, to make it appear that the substitute teacher was using excessive force.

The "assistant" that Corbin referred to was actually an 8th grade student that was in the 6th grade classroom helping the substitute teacher.  The 8th grade helper student became upset with the misbehaving 6th grade student and there was a verbal altercation.  The misbehaving student left the classroom and "made a gesture" to the 8th grade student, which upset the 8th grade student even more, and a physical altercation ensued. 

I advised the assistant principal that Corbin has autism and he is high functioning.  The principal was unaware that Corbin has autism and was surprised to hear it.  I told him that Corbin has a kind heart, would give anyone the shirt off his back, and that he is not a liar.  The principal told me that he didn't say Corbin was lying and, in a politically correct sort of way, confirmed that what Corbin was describing was accurate.

The thing that surprised me about all of this is that NONE of Corbin's teachers are aware that he has autism and that he can sometimes take things literally.  I was led to believe that because the school psychologist, who was provided with a copy of Corbin's official diagnosis from the MN psychologist and supporting diagnosis from the MN speech pathologist, had previously shared this information with his teachers.  It turns out that she had not, and is now in the process of emailing all of his teachers so they are aware that he can sometimes take things out of context.  It isn't Corbin's fault that he has this condition, so any accommodations that they can make to him with regard to this is going to be helpful.

Luckily, next week is spring break here in Texas, so Corbin can have a little breather from school.  I am hoping that things will get better for him soon.

School Woes

As most of you know, our son is autistic.  He is high functioning, but he struggles heavily with social issues.  It has been a very difficult transition for him school wise - he went from an elementary school in Minnesota where things were very community oriented and classroom friendly, to a middle school in Texas where things are run by a lot of yelling.  ("SHUT YOUR MOUTH" is often screamed at by the teachers to the students here in TX.)

Today Corbin came home and told me that he is upset by some things that happened at school today.  He told me that his science teacher told the classroom that she will stalk each person to make sure that they get their homework done.  Now, I understand that she didn't mean that literally.  However, Corbin does not understand this.  It upset him to the point where his train of thought was that stalking is illegal and he would call the police.  (That is the autism talking.)  What she said next concerns me, though.  The science teacher told the students that if they didn't get their homework done, that they will have to do 100 pushups in front of the class.  Now this is a threat to the children.  Especially to a child with autism who takes things literally.

Corbin also told me that there was a student who was misbehaving in choir class today.  The teacher called an "assistant" to help with the child.  The "assistant" started slapping the child, and in Corbin's words, "the teacher didn't care."  Now Corbin has said to me, "I am concerned for my safety.  I had to put my backpack in front of me as a shield."

On the flip side, Corbin scored 100% on a social studies test, and the teacher gave the students who scored 100% full-sized candy bars.  Corbin came home with a full-sized Kit-Kat bar yesterday.  So, apparently the teachers at this middle school believe in corporal punishment, as well as bribery.

I have a call into the school counselor to address my concerns.  I would like to know what their side of the story is, regarding the teacher's threats of pushups, the slapping, and the bribery.  After all, I do realize that my son is autistic and may have misinterpreted some things.  Autistic children are not stupid, though.  He is very smart, and my gut tells me that the things he relayed to me are really happening.

Unexpected gift at the post office

I've become a regular at the local post office recently for various things.  It's always an extremely long wait - the population of people versus postal employees is skewed down here. 

Today I got in line and prepared to wait my normal hour long ordeal.  A little old man got in line behind me and was holding an 8x10 manila envelope.  You could tell he personally addressed it as the writing on it was the scripty/scrolly handwriting that was popular in the early 1900's.  What a lost art form.

I casually mentioned to the man that I really liked the writing on his envelope.  He smiled a crooked smile and began to tell me about how he makes drawings for the ladies at the church, the ladies at the bowling alley, and the ladies at the bank.  Apparently, he's a real ladies' man.  He was absolutely adorable.  He told me a story about how his granddaughter asked him to make a drawing for her teacher, because she was afraid the teacher didn't like her.  After she gave the teacher his drawing, the teacher hugged his granddaughter and told them that they were buddies.

He told me that when movies went from black and white to color, that he watched them and enjoyed the script handwriting shown on the titles and decided that he wanted to write like that, so he taught himself.

This is who his envelope was addressed to, the John Hancock insurance company.  He made the writing look exactly like the logo, on purpose.  Even the address, city, state and zip was in the same scripty font.  He pointed out to me all of the k's in the address were like the John Hancock k.  He even had some whiteout on the envelope, and showed me where he accidently spelled the name John wrong. (He said spelled it "Jhon" and had to re-do it.)

We chatted about where he lived throughout his life and he really seemed to enjoy telling me about himself.  He said he is 89 years old.  He said, "You know the bad thing about getting old?  Getting older!"

I never got his name, but I received such an unexpected gift from him with his conversation and smiles.

Held Hostage by the Passport Office

Before we left for Texas, we gave temporary legal guardianship of our daughters to my mother and my stepfather, who were physically caring for them, in case of an emergency -- such as a medial emergency, etc. where a parent signature or permission for medical care is needed and we were not physically there.

Courtney needed to apply for a U.S. Passport and, because she is under the age of 18, needed a parent to sign the application.  My mom and Joe went with Courtney to the passport office armed with the legal guardianship papers and they signed the application.  The passport application for a child under 18 indicates that a parent or legal guardian must sign the application.

The clerk had them sign the form that stated that Courtney was under the age of 16.  My stepdad protested and informed the clerk that Courtney was 17, but the clerk told Joe to sign it anyway.  Mom says the lady was very helpful, seemed like she knew what she was doing, and they went through the process very smoothly and left the building feeling good about how things went.

Passport application gets rejected - I think the reason was they needed both legal guardians to sign, and only one of them signed (pursuant to what they were told by the clerk helping them).  I wasn't involved at this point so the details are a bit unclear to me why it was rejected the first time.

Today I get a phone call from my stepdad indicating that the passport app was rejected again. They got a letter in the mail stating that because the parents did not sign the application, that they need the parents to write a letter giving permission for Courtney to travel abroad, and acknowledge that the legal guardians had our permission to sign the application on our behalf.  They also need a notarized copy of our driver's licenses.  I was to specifically include Courtney's file/case number that was referenced on the letter in our letter to them. [Sidebar #1: In the meantime, Courtney has had a birthday and she is now 18.  My parents call and ask them if this stuff is still needed, and they tell them that yes, because Courtney applied when she was not 18, she needed to get permission from us, even though she is 18 now.]

So, I type up a letter and we go down to our Wells Fargo bank where they provide free notary services to their customers.  We needed some documents notarized in Minnesota (also a letter that I drafted) and they had no problem doing that.  Wells Fargo Texas tells us that because I typed the letter and it is not a legal form that they will not notarize our letter.  We explain that there is no legal form, and that the State of Minnesota has requested that we type this letter giving permission.  They refuse to sign the letter.

[Side bar #2: I am a notary public for the State of Minnesota.  There is no reason why they could not sign our typed letter.  They simply do things differently here, and I think a lot of it has to do with the culture.  They just don't want to take on any risk, even though there technically is none - all a notary does is check your ID and attest that you are who you say you are.  The fact that the signature is on a typed letter or a typed form should not have any bearing to witnessing and attesting a signature.]

The bank refers us to a notary down the street.   After waiting for 45 minutes to be seen, the notary advises us that the notaries for the State of Texas cannot notarize any copies of forms of identification, such as a driver's license or a passport.  [Side bar #3 - I used to do this in Minnesota frequently - I notarized copies of passports for the big wigs in the company I worked for when they needed documents authenticated.  Minnesota has no problem with this, which is why I guess they requested it.]

So now what - we cannot have copies of our driver's licenses notarized here in the State of Texas, now what do we do?

In the meantime, my mother informs me that the passport office took Courtney's original birth certificate and original legal guardianship papers.  So they now are holding these documents hostage until we can move forward.

I decide that there has to be some other recourse here since we are in Texas.  Mom gives me the telephone number printed on the letter.  After going through several telephone prompts, I reach a live person.  I give him Courtney's case number referenced in their letter and am about to explain the situation - and he tells me that since Courtney is now 18, he cannot speak to me!!!

ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?!?!?

At this point in time Courtney is working and plans to call the passport office tonight to see what can be done.  In reality, I don't think anyone at the passport office knows what they are doing.  The lady shouldn't have instructed Courtney to fill out a 16 and under application, since she was 17 at the time.  The guy on the phone should have been able to help me, because the application was started when she was 17 and the whole issue had to do with parental permission.  But now they can't talk to the parent because she is 18.  However, they cannot reverse the application and start over with an application for 18 and over because she started the application when she was 17, plus they have the original guardianship papers and birth certificate.

AAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!

To be continued...

Some Random Texas Stuff

For some reason, the stoplights in Texas are horizontal, instead of vertical.  I don't know the reason behind this, and I even tried Googling it.  Some speculation has been because of the wind, but I haven't really seen a definitive answer.

Something else that I see a lot (that I am not used to) are food trucks.  Hearsay from a Texas resident says you cannot have these parked in the city, but since we are outside of the Houston city limits (even though our address is Houston), they can set up and try to capitalize here.  There may be different kinds of food trucks, but honestly all of them that I have seen are Mexican food trucks.  Many of them display menus that aren't even in English.

Finally, I don't really have an explanation of the picture below, but it seemed like it belonged in Texas.  Because horses and Jesus somehow go together in the Lone Star state.  ;)

Journey to Dallas - The Nighmare Continues (Part 3)

...Continued

We traveled in Chad's company car, which was a big mistake.  His car is geared for traveling in the Houston area where ice and snow are pretty nonexistent.  The tires are not all-weather tires. 

The roads are iced over from the ice storm.  People in Texas are not used to driving in these conditions.  There's people in the ditches everywhere.  People are in their cars with their tires spinning and the car is not moving.  Some people are driving with their hazards on.  Chad has no control over our car.  He is doing the best he can, calling upon his years of Minnesota winter driving, and yet there is nothing we can do in the vehicle we are in.  We are now crawling in the traffic, and we are scared.  Chad is literally white knuckles on the steering wheel.  I have a panic attack. Not a figurative panic attack, like oh geez this is an anxious situation. A bona fide, medical emergency panic attack.

When Chad said, "we aren't going to make it to Houston", I thought he was being overly dramatic.  I thought that for about 30 seconds.  I then realized that he was not kidding, and I could see that he was sweating and sheet white.

We are not prepared for an overnight stay.  We have no overnight bags, no phone chargers.  We quickly do a search for the nearest hotel and find out that was six miles out.  It took us an hour to go six miles.  We pull into the Holiday and I run up to the front desk.  I ask if they have any rooms available and she is pretty rude and tells me no.  I ask her if there are any hotels in the area with rooms and she tells me that they are all booked.  Looking back, I can see that she was stressed and overwhelmed with the situation because people were coming in and out seeking rooms and she had to turn them away.

We go to the next hotel, La Quinta.  I again ask if there are rooms available.  He tells me that they have nothing.  I plead with him, and ask him if it is possible to camp out in his hotel lobby.  I tell him I will pay top dollar.  He then checks with his assistant and they say they have one room left.  It turns out it was HIS room, and he was giving it up to our family so we could stay the night.  The phone was ringing off the hook with travelers seeking shelter because the roads were not passable.  He said, "nobody was expecting this.  This took everyone by surprise."

The roads gridlocked.  People were stranded in their car for 9 to 15 hours.  It was like a horror movie where people abandon their cars.  Only we were living it.  The hotel was not a great hotel (very thin walls and the rooms were pretty gross), but I was grateful to get the last room by the skin of our teeth.

Who knew that the worst driving conditions we would ever experience in our lives would be just out of Dallas, Texas?  I do not ever remember the highways being gridlocked in Minnesota where people were stranded in their cars overnight.

We did have an emergency back up plan for our son.  Chad's work friend came and picked up Corbin from our house and he spent the night at her house.

We did not sleep well at the hotel.  There was noise that was coming from below us and next to us that lasted quite a while.  In the morning, we turned on the news and found that the gridlock was still not cleared up.  They were doing overhead chopper shots and people were still in their cars from last night.  Here's the story from the news:

A winter storm has caught thousands of Texas motorist off guard on Interstate 45 Southbound outside of Dallas heading toward the Houston area.  Icy conditions around Corsicana have virtually brought traffic to a standstill.
According to Texas Department of Transportation, which maintains the roadway during winter storms, I-45 is open but traffic is crawling.
The main trouble spot appears to be in Navarro County on I-45 at SH 31 where there is a slight incline on the freeway.
The area was hit by 1 to 2 inches of ice that keeps re-freezing.  The ice is making it impossible for 18-wheelers to make it up the incline backing up traffic for miles behind them.  TxDot says it has had crews out scraping the ice off the freeway and retreating it with chemicals.
Martina Alaniz,  a Houston area mother was trying to return to Houston from Dallas and has been stranded on I-45 for nearly 12 hours.
Alaniz, left Dallas last night at 8 p.m. and said she has only made it as far as Angus, Texas in Navarro County.  According to Google maps that journey would typically only take a motorist 56 minutes.  It has taken Alaniz more than 12 hours. 
Alaniz says they are in a stretch of I-45  with no stores, gas stations, or restaurants.  She says motorist around her have gotten out of their cars just to walk around and stretch their legs.
The Winter Storm caught many Texans off guard, temperatures across the state plummeted 40 degrees plus on Sunday. 


Read more: http://www.myfoxhouston.com/story/24868282/nightmare-gridlock-on-i-45-leaves-drivers-trying-to-get-to-houston-from-dallas-stranded#ixzz2v0uA2ckx

In the morning, the traffic was still crawling and the chopper reporters were telling us to avoid the area as it was not expected to be cleared until mid-day.  MID-DAY?!?!?  Hell, I want to go home!!!

I told Chad to go to the front desk of the hotel and do a recon on what other stranded guests were planning to do.  The front desk was advising them to take an alternate route, which was way out of the way, but it avoided I-45 where the gridlock was still happening.  We decided to take our chances and make a go of it.

We stopped and bought supplies at the gas station (drinks, snacks, and car chargers for the phone) and off we went.  The journey took us five hours but we finally made it home to Houston about 4:30 p.m. Monday afternoon.  The irony of the situation is that Courtney made it back home to Minnesota before we made it to Houston.

This was not supposed to happen this way at all.  I learned a very valuable life lesson, unfortunately the hardest way ever.

Journey to Dallas - The Nightmare Begins (Part 2)

...Continued

So we're driving to the venue and it's starting to sleet freezing rain.  It's windy and cold, and miserable.  The traffic around the venue is a nightmare.  The parking ramps are full, it's bumper-to-bumper traffic, and there's actually police directing the traffic, trying to maintain order.  There's people everywhere.

 

 

You see the stats on that picture above?  You can imagine that, in the middle of the day, parking to this event would be a problem.

 

As I said earlier, the ramps to the venue were full.  We were directed to overflow parking, which is blocks from the venue, and out in the open.  We pay our ten dollars to park and find our way to the back of the lot, about the furthest you can walk.  We get out of the car and the freezing wind takes your breath away.  I am in short sleeves, no jacket.  The ice is pelting my arms and it feels like tiny needles.  I am not over exaggerating here, it actually hurt.  We get about two rows away from our car and I tell Chad that I can't do this.  The ice is physically hurting me.  I have given birth to three babies, one of them completely drug and epidural free.  When I tell you this was painful, I mean it.  We go back to the car and try to formulate a plan B.

 

Our plan B consisted of trying to find a closer parking spot.  We ended up moving up about 10 rows, but nothing really that close.  We realize that we have no other choice but to brave it.  We decide that we are going to run to the venue.  We start running.

 

Remember those sandals I told you about?  The sandals I am wearing have no back.  They are slip on shoes.  So, while I am running, I have to try to run and yet keep my feet and legs positioned so my shoes don't go flying off my feet. 

 

After about a sorry 100 yards, I have so slow down and start walking.  My calves have now cramped up from trying to keep my shoes on.  The wind and freeing rain have completely wrecked my cute hair.  My mascara is running down my face because my eyes are watering, both from the wind and from me crying.  It is now abundantly clear to me that if there was a zombie apocalypse, and we had to run for our lives, I would be the first to be eaten.  I was an extremely pathetic ball of mess.  We aren't even close to the venue doors yet and I cannot continue to run.  This is where being a plus sized girl also factors in.  I am looking at Chad with the most apologetic expression I can muster.  You see, Chad still has a six pack from high school, and a sized 32 waist.  He's spry and can run just fine.  Even though he has long sleeves on (those long sleeves I teased him about earlier), he is in just as much pain and suffering as I am due to the elements.

 

After what felt like an eternity, we make it inside the venue.  We decide that there must be a jacket, blanket, or sweatshirt for sale that we can purchase to help our situation out when we have to venture back outside.  Of course, we are located at the complete opposite end of the venue where the girls are competing.  We begin making our way through the crowds to the girls.

 

We find a spot where they are selling NCA apparel.  Bingo, they have windbreakers.  Not winter jackets but at this point, anything long sleeved will do.  Wait a minute.  I should have known.  They are selling them in sizes youth and women's small and medium.  There are no larges or extra larges to be found.  Super.

 

We find the shorts Courtney wanted, but the shirt was sold out.  We order the shirt to have it shipped to Minnesota.

 

We finally find the girls, and they are waiting to go into warm ups.

 

 

We tell them we're going to find a spot to sit down and we'll see them after Storm (Carly's team) performs.

 

We still have some time to kill, so we wander to another part of the arena and find another spot where they are selling apparel.  This time, I find a windbreaker in XL.  I feel like I have won the lottery.  It still wasn't a perfect fit for me (so embarrassed), but I don't care.  We haven't eaten anything, so we go purchase an $8 smoothie and a $5 pretzel.  We go find our seats and wait for Storm to perform.

 

Cheer competitions are loud.  I mean LOUD.  There's noise from the crowds, there's noise from the music.  It really starts to get to you after a while.  I begin to get a headache.  It's no wonder, after the four hour drive with no food, then our run in the freezing rain, and now the loud music.  The headache makes me nauseous.

 

Storm performs and we follow the team across the venue again so they can get their backpacks, which is left in a supervised area that is just for athletes.  We wait outside the room and then let Carly know that we are going back to the hotel so I can get away from the crowds and noise to nurse my headache.  We needed to go back to the hotel anyway because we needed to load Carly's luggage into the car.  The coaches decide that after Blaze (another PS team) competes, they will send Storm back to the hotel so the team can give Carly a gift and say goodbye in private.  They can eat, change, and refresh before going back to the venue to watch Lady Thunder (Courtney's team) compete.  We also planned to go back to the venue to watch Courtney compete for the last time (sniff, sniff).

 

We make our way back to the car (miles away) and I now have my fluorescent pink windbreaker on.  It helps, but let's face it - it's a thin windbreaker.  I needed a freakin' parka.

 

We go back to the hotel and wait in the lobby.  This is where we begin hearing about the ice storm that passed through Dallas and surrounding areas.  They are talking about road closures.  The hotel manager is advising people not to go out and drive.  We begin to worry as we have a four hour drive home and we have left our son alone for the day (he's 12 and can handle being alone during the day by himself).  We begin to realize the gravity of how dangerous the situation is and decide that we cannot wait until 8 p.m. for Lady Thunder to perform.  We need to get on the roads as soon as possible because we know it is going to be a slow and dangerous trek.  We are upset over these new events because Courtney is still at the venue and we are at the hotel.  That means we cannot say goodbye to her, or give her a goodbye hug.  She is coming down in a few weeks for spring break so we decide that it sucks, but we have to get going.

 

Carly is now back at the hotel with her team.  We get her bag and it is time for her to say goodbye to her Minnesota cheer friends.  Oh my gosh.  Everyone was crying.  She hugged each girl and received a scrapbook made especially for her.

 

It was the nicest send off the team could ever give, and I am grateful that the girls came back to the hotel especially for her to say goodbye.  They all had to face the ice and wind as well as they ran from the venue to the hotel.  It is not a short distance. 

 

We get in the car and load our GPS up with the home address.  We get on the freeway and start towards home.  This is where things went from bad to worse.



Journey to Dallas - The Good Stuff (Part 1)

Our journey to Dallas was anticipated for a very long time.  Our daughters are very involved in competitive cheerleading, and unless you are familiar with the competitive cheerleading world, you wouldn't understand it.  We allowed our daughters to stay behind in Minnesota so they could compete with their teammates.  The "superbowl" of cheerleading competitions is NCA nationals in Dallas.  Our plan all along was to drive from Houston to Dallas, watch our girls compete (especially Courtney, who has been cheering competitively for seven years and will no longer be competing after this year), and then bring Carly back home with us to our new lives in Houston.  Courtney will continue her journey in life by finishing her senior year of high school in Minnesota, graduate high school, and then take a much anticipated trip to Europe with some of her classmates.  After her trip to Europe, she will fly to Houston and start college at the University of Houston-Clear Lake in the fall.

Our original plan was to drive up to Dallas and make a weekend of it.  However, after a very agonizing decision, we decided to pare it down to one day due to our autistic son having a very difficult transition from Minnesota to Houston.  We even factored in our furry family member, Cali, who also had a difficult transition.  Both of them are finally settling in to a routine and it was decided it was better for all involved if we just drove up to Dallas on Sunday morning, watch the girls compete, visit briefly, and then drive back with Carly on Sunday evening.  This would allow our son to stay home and avoid the long hours in the car, and also avoid the large crowds.  He would have been on sensory overload and had a meltdown.  It also avoided Cali being boarded at a kennel, which would have upset her and she would have boycotted eating for a week.  (She is just now eating normally after being here for a month.)

We were so focused on this ideal plan that we did not anticipate that mother nature would crack her whip and show us who is boss.

We left Houston in the morning at it was 72 degrees.  I was wearing a short sleeved shirt, capri pants, and sandals.  We were planning to be indoors all day and we dressed according to the weather in Houston at the time.  Chad, who always wears Planet Spirit (the organization the girls cheer for) clothing to cheer competitions, wore a long sleeved black polo with the PS logo on the front.  I actually told him he was crazy for wearing long sleeves and told him he was going to be hot.  Chad agreed with me but said he didn't have a short sleeved PS shirt and didn't want to wear a PS sweatshirt.  We were in our little bubble of happy bliss discussing our fashion, having no idea what was about to come.

About halfway to Dallas, it started to rain.  Chad needed to use the restroom, so we pulled over to a gas station and filled up with gas/used the facilities.  The rain was freezing and I was upset that I had to walk in the rain from the car to inside of the gas station for fear that I would mess up my cute hairdo.  As we left the gas station, Chad looked at the car's thermometer, which displays both inside and outside temps, and said (honest to God), "That can't be right."  The thermometer said 38 degrees.  I said, "It's right.  Didn't you feel the temperature difference when we went inside the gas station?"  He said, "I guess, but that's just crazy.  That's almost a forty degree temperature difference in just two hours."  It still didn't occur to us at that time that the weather may be an issue.  Remember, we will still in our happy little blissful bubble, living in Houston with warm weather and completely focused on getting to Dallas to see our daughters.

We arrived in Dallas and got to the hotel that the girls were staying at.  The hotel's parking was in a covered area, almost like a parking garage.  We couldn't believe how cold it was when we walked from our car to the hotel.  We walk into the lobby area and Carly's team, Storm, is starting to gather to walk down to the venue where the competitions are being held (Dallas Convention Center).

 

 

We stop and speak to Carly's coaches, Mike and Jason.  All of a sudden Carly comes flying out of no where and jumps up on Chad's back like a monkey and hugs him.  I lose it and start crying.  It's only been a month but it felt so much longer due to the circumstances.  I grabbed her and hugged her a little too hard, because she yelped and told me I was crushing her.

 

 

Since Carly needed to go with her team to the venue, Chad and I decided to go upstairs and find Courtney.  She was still getting ready with her teammates, because they didn't need to be at the venue until a later time.  We also wanted to give her a birthday present, since she will be turning 18 in a few days and we won't be in Minnesota to celebrate with her on her actual birthday. 

 

 

I again am a puddle of tears as I see our oldest - she is just so mature and grown up.  She is assisting her teammates in getting their cheer curls done, and Courtney can do a mean cheer curl.  They actually have a "train" going, girls helping girls getting ready.  Even off the cheer floor, these girls are all about team work.

 

 

We pause for a few minutes to visit and let her open her presents, and then we leave them be to finish getting ready (don't want to make them late).  We promise to see Courtney later at the venue.  At this time she starts putting in her requests for items she wants us to purchase at the venue for her - a specific pair of shorts, a specific shirt, etc.  We chuckle because as parents, you are always a walking ATM.  We know that this is our last cheer nationals with Courtney and we are more than happy to help her get a few souvenirs.  We head back to the hotel lobby, and we have a discussion about whether or not we are going to walk to the venue, or drive the car.  Since it is so cold, we decide to drive our car to the venue.  This is where everything about the trip turns into a nightmare.