Dunkin Donuts… go away

This morning, on the way back from some errands, A and I swung through the drive through at Dunkin Donuts.  Since having A, I haven’t been able to do that very often.  Good grief.  Things have changed there.

I will admit, typically I am more partial to a local from-the-ground-up coffee house.  But sometimes, when you have a toddler with you, it’s just easier to hit the drive thru.  That being said, I don’t necessarily prefer Dunkin Donuts.

First of all, you order outside in a speaker.  I’m fine with that.  It’s a drive thru after all.  But when I order, and I can’t even understand the man (who’s Indian, middle eastern, whatever), that’s a problem.  I had a coupon from my KidStuff book for a 99 cent latte.  It had to be either a hot 10oz, or a cold 16oz.  I opted for the cold, caramel flavored, please.  I honestly had to ask the man to repeat himself 3 times.  He probably spit in my drink.  Doesn’t really matter…. read on.

Finally, I understood that he wanted me to pull up.  Ok…. fine.  I was going to order a muffin as well.  But I already can’t understand what you’re saying, so I’d rather not sit here for another 5 minutes trying to spell out what a muffin is to you.  Though, frankly, he probably wouldn’t have cared what kind of muffin I wanted, he would’ve decided for me.  And instead I would’ve ended up with a coconut donut.

Why are you working at, and probably MANAGING, a Dunkin Donuts anyhow, if you can’t understand English?

Pulled up to the window, gave the (American) boy my coupon.  He is having trouble scanning it, because instead of what I ordered, they gave me a HUGE iced coffee.  When I explained, that I indeed did not order that, he turned to talk to the Indian (manager, I presume).  I couldn’t hear what was being said. But was watching what was going on.  Instead of accepting and owning up to a mistake, my originally prepared LARGE drink was dumped into a smaller cup.  The rest, I’m sure, was going to be given to someone else.  Cheap.

Driving away, I take a sip of my smaller drink.  Doesn’t taste ANYTHING like caramel.  Matter of fact, I’m sure caramel wasn’t even thought about.  Ignore the customers request.  Because that will save us money.  It tasted so horrible, that I took half a sip and gave up.  I don’t litter, but I was tempted to throw it out the window.

My mouth literally tasted disgusting.  Of course, this is the one time I don’t have gum in the car to “wash out” the bitter, burnt coffee bean flavor.

Sometimes, people have bad days.  Mistakes are made.  I get that.  But this is not the first time I’ve had this experience.  And not just all at the same store.  I can think of at least 3 other stores in our area that I have been to in the last year that have left a bitter taste in my mouth (literally and figuratively).  Dunkin Donuts lost a customer for good today.  I’ll be reaching out to the company to express my frustrations.  If I was a business owner, I would want to know WHY I am losing a customer anyhow.  But, we’ll see.  The company, has likely been taken over by an Indian.  Who, ultimately has no respect for America, for American people, or our American culture.

Side note: Please know I am NOT prejudice.  I have met many people from different backgrounds, different ethnicities.  And have befriended a lot of them.  I don’t seclude myself to those from my own background.  But unfortunately, I have not yet met a single Indian that I have gotten along with.  I’m sure there are some well-meaning individuals out there with an Indian background, and I praise you for accepting our culture.  And please, by all means, come live here, help us prosper, and we will help you as well.  But, not if you are going to come over here with your nose held high, disrespecting all of us and thinking you are better and we should look up to you.  We were here first.  We built this country on good morals, treating others decently, and helping each other, speaking ENGLISH.  If you can’t accept that, then get the HELL out and go back to where you came from.

<end rant>

❤ Erin


Death of an Angel

Today we lost an angel.

Yes, that’s what I truly mean.  Heaven gained an angel.  We lost one.

A dear friend was diagnosed with brain cancer in 2008, at the age of 23.  They didn’t give him much hope at the time.  But he made it.  SIX YEARS.

I first met Jared when I started dating my husband; C was a friend of his.  Being 3 years younger and fresh out of high school, I was always the ‘odd ball out’, so to speak.  When you come into a group of tight friends like that, let me tell you, it can be a little intimidating.  But it never felt that way when Jared was around.  He would single me out.  Come talk to me.  Get to know me.  He didn’t want to just KNOW me, he wanted a friendship.  Whether I did or not, he was going to become friends with me.

He was like that with EVERYONE.  He didn’t care if you were white or black, short or tall, he just wanted to know you.

Jared fought hard.  He went through chemo, radiation, several surgeries.  But you’d never know it.  It set him back a little each time, definitely.  But he would never tell you he was in pain.  Never wanted you to worry about him.  Instead, he kept making others smile and laugh.  No matter what.

He served as a groomsman in most of our weddings.  And for that, we’re thankful.  We’re thankful that we were so blessed to have held onto him so long that he could be a part of our weddings.  And when he and his wife Stacy finally were the last of the group to get married, we were all there.  And that, too, we’re grateful for.

Jared and Stacy were told it wouldn’t be a good idea to have kids.  Though I know they tried, it wasn’t in their stars.  Instead, they patiently watched as we all started having children.  Jared loved his nieces, and his “nieces” (aka, the GROUPS nieces, my daughter A, and other friend’s N and E).  When the rest of the guys were being ‘manly’, Jared was on the floor playing with the girls.  He was goofy.  And the kids LOVED that.

Recently he started getting sicker and sicker.  The tumor had been growing.  Rapidly.  Another surgery was done.  It helped.  But not much.

He deteriorated quickly.  When we were told he was in the hospital again last week, we knew it wasn’t good.  But there was still hope, with another chemo, that might help.  We were hopeful.

Until we heard he had gone into a coma.  There are stories of people coming out of a coma, turning around.  Miracles.

But we knew this wasn’t going to be a miracle.  We knew God was calling him home.  And we knew we had to accept it.

Two and a half days later, I sit here with a heavy heart.  Numb.  He wasn’t even 30.  He was too young.

Precious in the sight of the Lord, is the death of His saints.  -Psalms 116:15

Jared was a saint, in and out.  He lived his purpose here on earth.  I’d be lying if I said we didn’t want more time with him.  But he also touched so many people in such a brief 29 years, that you can’t hardly argue with God for relieving Jared of his earthly duties.

We know he is safe now.  He’s not suffering and he has no pain.  He’s likely played some football, probably found a race car to drive, and I’d put money on it that he’s watching some WWE on a larger-than-life-size TV.  I’m sure he has all the children in Heaven calling him Uncle Jared by now too.

We’re hurting, we’re in pain because of God calling Him home.  But we’re also celebrating, because God gave us all of these amazing years with one of His best Servants.

Jared, we love you, we miss you, and we know we’ll see you again some day.

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❤ Erin

Time for Fall

I can’t say as though I like fall.  Actually, I kind of despise cold weather.  So anything that causes cold weather is just so insanely shocking to my system.

Our area is in a bit of a cold freeze lately.  It’s like November came overnight.  Literally it was gorgeous one day, and then BAM.  All of a sudden it’s 46 when I wake up in the morning.  And let me tell you.  That SUCKS when you had all the windows open overnight.

Truth be told, I enjoy fall decorations.  That’s probably my favorite season to decorate for.

I like pumpkin spice anything.  Coffee, ice cream, pumpkin pie.  And apple.  Apple crisp.  Apple scented candles.  Apple cider.  All tastes of fall.

But, if, by chance I could move somewhere that we had the cold fall weather for about a week and that’s it?  Sign me up.

Then theres the issue of winter coming after fall….

I haven’t quite figured out how that’s going to work yet….

❤ Erin


I think, one of the major things that proves to be a turning point in anyone’s parenting career is…  well, it’s poop.

I don’t know that you can fully consider yourself a parent until you’ve experienced all the possible poops out there.  And though I have a less than 2 year old, I do feel quite well versed in this.  I’m sure, as we go along, there will be even more events of which to gain valuable lessons.  Stay tuned.

First we have the newborn poops.  They don’t smell.  Thankfully.  They’re the stickiest poops out there.  You will be standing over your little bundle of joy for a seemingly endless timeframe trying to get every last bit out of their “area”.  Again, note that it is God’s free pass to you that they don’t smell.  This is training for the next step.

Unfortunately, while you are trying to get every last little bit off of a “hoo-ha” or “ding-a-ling”, you may experience The BLOWOUT.  This is still not the worst.  Fortunately for us, this has only happened once.  C was standing at the end of the changing table, ‘helping’, and A let ‘er rip.  All over C, all over the door, all over the changing table.  It was everywhere.  Again, this isn’t yet the worst.  At this point, she was still breastfed, which often, breastfed babies don’t have stinky poops.  Don’t ask me why.  That’s a phenomenon I don’t completely understand myself.

Then, you have the TODDLER Blowout.  This needs to be reiterated.  The TODDLER Blowout, is very different than the BLOWOUT.  Though the names match (and in a lot of ways, they are similar) you can’t claim to know any form of the BLOWOUT until you’ve experienced them all.

We’ve made it the whole way to 16 months without having to experience this.  But the story doesn’t end there.

No friends.  It doesn’t.

About a week ago, I went in to get A in the morning.  She’s kind of an odd child.  I frequently have to wake her up in the morning.  She’s a pretty good sleeper.  That she got from her momma.

Anyhow.  She was awake.  Which is unusual.  Standing up in the crib, looking around.  And quiet.

Now, any mom in her right mind knows what QUIET means.  It means trouble.  Doesn’t matter how you look at it.  It just means something isn’t right.

Enter: the TODDLER Blowout.

I kid you not, when I opened the door, the wall of scent hit me.  And it wasn’t a pretty scent either.  Then I SAW it.  Half her sleeper was brown.  The crib had brown hand streaks.  The sheet was brown.

The only advice I can give you is to plug your nose, strip the kid down and just put them in the bath tub.  Just do it.  Consider throwing out the sheets, possibly the crib.  Maybe even just put your house up for sale.  As is.

Having worked for a few years on a dairy farm, my husband wasn’t caving to my request to sell the house.  So I had to suck it up and deal with it.  But you better bet, the next time that happens.  Either HE can take care of it, or we’re moving.

Welcome to parenthood.

❤ Erin