JD Sallinger passed away. I'm sad!! My friend Jen texted me to tell me, and I was surprised (although at first I thought - "He wasn't already dead?" Geez I'm dumb sometimes.)
So I leaned over and told the Hubby. Him having been an English major in college and all, I would have thought he would have been a bit saddened by the news. Instead he says "I didn't really care for 'The Catcher in the Rye'". WHAT?
I told him he was an unAmerican ass. Appropriate? Well I think so.
I am so tired from my 2 presentations and unending meetings today.
No gym - I babysat my neighbors daughters, which was amusing because, after about 20 minutes, my son was perplexed by the things that girls find entertaining. Now that he and the older girl are almost 8 and almost 9, the gender gap has widened. Gone are the days when they'd run around the yard and both catch frogs...but they did both enjoy using a toy chainsaw to have the big plastic pig give birth to baby pigs tonight. Ah...to be young again. This resulted in a major gigglefest - although the 4 year old was mystified by what was so damn funny.
Kids - so silly.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
well this is getting unmanageable
My calendar at work for the last 2 days has been booked solid. SOLID.
Now, this in and of itself isn't particularly newsworthy. I usually am slammed with meetings. It keeps me busy and helps me push aside some of the drama in my life - and in my workplace - for a while.
That said - FULLY booked for 2 days straight??? This is getting out of hand.
I have a full time job. I mentor a temp. And now I am responsible for 1/2 of the training of 2 new employees. Did I mention that my actual job didn't go away? Good grief!!
Needless to say, 3 of my "meetings" today were actually training sessions. So I cancelled the 3rd one for now. There is no way in hell I can train on my ridiculous, totally confusing, completely broken systems for 3 solid hours in ONE DAY!!
This would have been bad enough but during said 1 hour "break" today, I was scrolling through my emails. You ever have that nagging feeling that you have something due but you don't remember what it is...and you're worried it due ASAP? Uh yeah. I found it. Testing. Must be done by 1pm Thursday. 3pm Wednesday and I haven't started it - and it takes on average 3 hours. Oh yeah, and I have a 4pm meeting, would like to leave at a reasonable hour, have a presentation/meeting at 8:30am - 10:30ish tomorrow, and am triple-booked at 11am?? Oh please.
I promptly cancelled/declined my 11ams tomorrow and will squeeze in some testing then, and realized that I would be logging some extra time after my 4pm - which was a teleconference to which I paid so little attention I think I may have answered a question incorrectly. UGH!!
I feel like I can't catch my breath. This is enough but I have some personal life shit going on too. Oh yeah, and I actually enjoy SEEING my child occasionally.
As I've stated - I'm Type A. Big time. I love being busy. I really do. But when I get so busy that I feel like I get very little done and what I do do is of questionable quality - I feel like a failure.
I feel like a failure right now. I don't feel like I'm getting enough done and I feel like (I KNOW) I am half-assing things. I don't need to feel like a failure at work - I have enough of that in other aspects of my life right now.
I feel like a shitty mom because I'm so exhausted when I get home that dinner is about as much energy as I can expend. Sure I have conversations with G but I don't have the energy to play games with him every night - and some nights, I just can't wait for 8pm (bedtime). It makes me feel like a completely shitty mom - I only see the poor kid 3 or 4 hours on weekdays!
Of course this latest burst of chaos seems to have coincided with G's foray into independence. After being a super-needy, play-with-me-all-day-long child for his first 7 years, the last 6 months, he's gotten to a place where he does his own thing. Happily. I'm so proud of him - yet it makes me feel so strange. I wonder if I somehow prematurely pushed him there. I can't remember how old I was when my independent streak kicked in - my mom insists it was from day 1 though - so maybe my guilt feelings are wasted.
I hate to say it but it's moments like this - days like this - where being a mom is just really hard, really confusing, and really conflicting.
I love my son. But the day he was born, the rest of Andrea didn't disappear. Sometimes balancing motherhood with being Andrea - not easy.
Today is one of those days.
Breathe.
Now, this in and of itself isn't particularly newsworthy. I usually am slammed with meetings. It keeps me busy and helps me push aside some of the drama in my life - and in my workplace - for a while.
That said - FULLY booked for 2 days straight??? This is getting out of hand.
I have a full time job. I mentor a temp. And now I am responsible for 1/2 of the training of 2 new employees. Did I mention that my actual job didn't go away? Good grief!!
Needless to say, 3 of my "meetings" today were actually training sessions. So I cancelled the 3rd one for now. There is no way in hell I can train on my ridiculous, totally confusing, completely broken systems for 3 solid hours in ONE DAY!!
This would have been bad enough but during said 1 hour "break" today, I was scrolling through my emails. You ever have that nagging feeling that you have something due but you don't remember what it is...and you're worried it due ASAP? Uh yeah. I found it. Testing. Must be done by 1pm Thursday. 3pm Wednesday and I haven't started it - and it takes on average 3 hours. Oh yeah, and I have a 4pm meeting, would like to leave at a reasonable hour, have a presentation/meeting at 8:30am - 10:30ish tomorrow, and am triple-booked at 11am?? Oh please.
I promptly cancelled/declined my 11ams tomorrow and will squeeze in some testing then, and realized that I would be logging some extra time after my 4pm - which was a teleconference to which I paid so little attention I think I may have answered a question incorrectly. UGH!!
I feel like I can't catch my breath. This is enough but I have some personal life shit going on too. Oh yeah, and I actually enjoy SEEING my child occasionally.
As I've stated - I'm Type A. Big time. I love being busy. I really do. But when I get so busy that I feel like I get very little done and what I do do is of questionable quality - I feel like a failure.
I feel like a failure right now. I don't feel like I'm getting enough done and I feel like (I KNOW) I am half-assing things. I don't need to feel like a failure at work - I have enough of that in other aspects of my life right now.
I feel like a shitty mom because I'm so exhausted when I get home that dinner is about as much energy as I can expend. Sure I have conversations with G but I don't have the energy to play games with him every night - and some nights, I just can't wait for 8pm (bedtime). It makes me feel like a completely shitty mom - I only see the poor kid 3 or 4 hours on weekdays!
Of course this latest burst of chaos seems to have coincided with G's foray into independence. After being a super-needy, play-with-me-all-day-long child for his first 7 years, the last 6 months, he's gotten to a place where he does his own thing. Happily. I'm so proud of him - yet it makes me feel so strange. I wonder if I somehow prematurely pushed him there. I can't remember how old I was when my independent streak kicked in - my mom insists it was from day 1 though - so maybe my guilt feelings are wasted.
I hate to say it but it's moments like this - days like this - where being a mom is just really hard, really confusing, and really conflicting.
I love my son. But the day he was born, the rest of Andrea didn't disappear. Sometimes balancing motherhood with being Andrea - not easy.
Today is one of those days.
Breathe.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
a tizzy - summer looms?!?!?
Ok. It's late January and, despite the fact that it was 50+ degrees yesterday, we are nowhere close to summer. Or are we?
See...as I've mentioned...I'm Type A. In fact, do they have a Type AA? Because I'm totally Type AA then. So I try to stay on top of my "to do" lists (err...well except the work ones - but in my defense, that's because it rolls out the window and down Rte 6). This especially applies to G.
When G came home 2 weeks ago telling me that 2 of his good friends were going to a particular summer camp and "CanIgowiththempleaseMomyouknowhowmuchIlovethem", I PANICKED! WHAT? Summer camp? I didn't miss the sign-up time, did I?
I scrambled onto the computer that night after G went to bed and onto the camp's website.
PHEW. No open registration yet.
BUT WAIT. Registration starts February 8th.
WHAT? February 8th?!?!?!
I realize the camps need to get a head count so they can staff up. But holy crap. This sent my mind spinning (and the list below will unfortunately give you a glimpse into what it's like to be me).
- February 8th is 2 weeks away.
- I haven't planned our summer vacation yet.
- I am not sending this kid to this camp for the whole summer. I'd like to but that would cost more than said vacation - x 2.
- Uh oh.
- What's the deal with his other camp? I haven't seen anything on it.
(Scramble to other camp's website. NOTHING. Email director. Hold breath - he usually takes days to get back to me.)
- Ok, I have to start planning our vacation.
- I asked Gregg about it last week and since it's not Disney, he was blase. Crap. Where should we go?
- I wonder if we should invite Jay/Carrie/Tate.
(Text Carrie to ask about vacation.)
- Ok, my 2 choices are - since I can't get them to do OBX again - Acadia National Park or the Cape.
(Begin research on vacation. Spend 2+ hours. Find decent rentals in Acadia. Don't even begin The Cape search.)
Now I'm really panicking. THE camp has fort-building, which G wants to do. I could send him to that session but will his friends be there? Can I plan our vacation around it? CRAP, I need to know when his other camp starts.
It's been 2 days since Andrea panic attack 5409054809. I haven't heard back from the other camp director but I have confirmed that G wants to do fort-building. So we'll likely do that. I've taken a deep breath and realized I CAN plan our vacation around camp.
I can do this.
But geez I really am good at putting myself in a tizzy, aren't I?
And all for SUMMER 2010. 5 months away. LOL.
See...as I've mentioned...I'm Type A. In fact, do they have a Type AA? Because I'm totally Type AA then. So I try to stay on top of my "to do" lists (err...well except the work ones - but in my defense, that's because it rolls out the window and down Rte 6). This especially applies to G.
When G came home 2 weeks ago telling me that 2 of his good friends were going to a particular summer camp and "CanIgowiththempleaseMomyouknowhowmuchIlovethem", I PANICKED! WHAT? Summer camp? I didn't miss the sign-up time, did I?
I scrambled onto the computer that night after G went to bed and onto the camp's website.
PHEW. No open registration yet.
BUT WAIT. Registration starts February 8th.
WHAT? February 8th?!?!?!
I realize the camps need to get a head count so they can staff up. But holy crap. This sent my mind spinning (and the list below will unfortunately give you a glimpse into what it's like to be me).
- February 8th is 2 weeks away.
- I haven't planned our summer vacation yet.
- I am not sending this kid to this camp for the whole summer. I'd like to but that would cost more than said vacation - x 2.
- Uh oh.
- What's the deal with his other camp? I haven't seen anything on it.
(Scramble to other camp's website. NOTHING. Email director. Hold breath - he usually takes days to get back to me.)
- Ok, I have to start planning our vacation.
- I asked Gregg about it last week and since it's not Disney, he was blase. Crap. Where should we go?
- I wonder if we should invite Jay/Carrie/Tate.
(Text Carrie to ask about vacation.)
- Ok, my 2 choices are - since I can't get them to do OBX again - Acadia National Park or the Cape.
(Begin research on vacation. Spend 2+ hours. Find decent rentals in Acadia. Don't even begin The Cape search.)
Now I'm really panicking. THE camp has fort-building, which G wants to do. I could send him to that session but will his friends be there? Can I plan our vacation around it? CRAP, I need to know when his other camp starts.
It's been 2 days since Andrea panic attack 5409054809. I haven't heard back from the other camp director but I have confirmed that G wants to do fort-building. So we'll likely do that. I've taken a deep breath and realized I CAN plan our vacation around camp.
I can do this.
But geez I really am good at putting myself in a tizzy, aren't I?
And all for SUMMER 2010. 5 months away. LOL.
Monday, January 25, 2010
there's a shard of glass on my bathroom floor
Check that. There WAS a shard of glass - about the size of a small splinter - on my bathroom floor. As of 6:30am today, it was in my big toe. Uhm - first off I am not a morning person to begin with, second, it is MONDAY and third OW!!!!
What the hell was glass doing in my bathroom?!?!?! I don't keep anything glass in the bathroom because I have tile floors.
After lamenting about this to Gregg, the probable culprit appeared based on his suggestion. LAST Monday, on my day off, I went out to the garage fridge for a can of seltzer. (Love seltzer. Yummy.) As I opened the door of the fridge, I heard a loud CRACK followed by CRASH. The shelf on the door had snapped and 30 *YES 30 - hence the reason the shelf snapped - bottles of beer fell all over the garage floor. 15 broke. SO I cleaned it up but you and I know damn well that you can only pick up so much of the glass, even after sweeping repeatedly.
So likely, someone picked up a tiny piece of glass on his/her shoe, deposited on the bathroom floor, which allowed me to step on it this morning.
This is not the way I ever want to start a Monday, and it certainly was an indicator of how my day was going to go. Unfortunately.
On a lighter note, I did make it to the gym today (which helped my mood - a little - nothing like attempting to dump all of your frustration out on a treadmill). I ran 2.9 miles in 30 minutes - not too bad since I've only been back at this for 3 weeks.
While I was there, I saw one of my old favorites. I've been going to this gym for 2 years so I've grown accostomed to some of the regulars. This guy is the best. He has LONG hair - like down to his lower back - which he wears flowing and brushed out, even when working out. He also sports a unitard. You know, like a wrestling singlet.
WHO WEARS A SINGLET TO THE GYM?!?!?
The guys is probably mid 30s like me. What the hell is he thinking?
I am fascinated by him. I actually have to make a concerted effort to not stare. It's a problem.
I really hope tomorrow is a better day. The last month has been a major rollercoaster and I am tired. I am just looking for some resolution. Any idea how I can find that?
What the hell was glass doing in my bathroom?!?!?! I don't keep anything glass in the bathroom because I have tile floors.
After lamenting about this to Gregg, the probable culprit appeared based on his suggestion. LAST Monday, on my day off, I went out to the garage fridge for a can of seltzer. (Love seltzer. Yummy.) As I opened the door of the fridge, I heard a loud CRACK followed by CRASH. The shelf on the door had snapped and 30 *YES 30 - hence the reason the shelf snapped - bottles of beer fell all over the garage floor. 15 broke. SO I cleaned it up but you and I know damn well that you can only pick up so much of the glass, even after sweeping repeatedly.
So likely, someone picked up a tiny piece of glass on his/her shoe, deposited on the bathroom floor, which allowed me to step on it this morning.
This is not the way I ever want to start a Monday, and it certainly was an indicator of how my day was going to go. Unfortunately.
On a lighter note, I did make it to the gym today (which helped my mood - a little - nothing like attempting to dump all of your frustration out on a treadmill). I ran 2.9 miles in 30 minutes - not too bad since I've only been back at this for 3 weeks.
While I was there, I saw one of my old favorites. I've been going to this gym for 2 years so I've grown accostomed to some of the regulars. This guy is the best. He has LONG hair - like down to his lower back - which he wears flowing and brushed out, even when working out. He also sports a unitard. You know, like a wrestling singlet.
WHO WEARS A SINGLET TO THE GYM?!?!?
The guys is probably mid 30s like me. What the hell is he thinking?
I am fascinated by him. I actually have to make a concerted effort to not stare. It's a problem.
I really hope tomorrow is a better day. The last month has been a major rollercoaster and I am tired. I am just looking for some resolution. Any idea how I can find that?
Sunday, January 24, 2010
bathrooms, football and loopholes
I have Sunday dread so my goal is to channel my nervous energy through a hopefully moderately coherent blog entry. Please wish me luck.
I decided for reasons unbeknownst to anyone but me to deep clean our bathrooms today. I know why - cleaning the bathroom, while utterly disgusting, is incredibly satistifying to me. There is nothing better than standing back and looking at your gleaming, fresh-smelling bathroom after scouring the hell out of it. Of course, I have 3 bathrooms in my house so, while this idea always seems like a good one from the get-go, by the time I'm done, I'm ready to kick my own ass for my sheer stupidity.
The bathrooms were in a true state of disarray today because frankly I can't tell you the last time I did a deep cleaning. Oh I wipe the surfaces down - NO NO ONE ELSE DOES - regularly but the deep cleaning is a much more infrequent thing.
How these bathrooms get so disgusting when there are only 3 of us, Hubby and I work full time, G is in school full time, and we are in activity hell is beyond me but frankly, I think it's mostly because males are slobs. Oh Hubby is "neat" - this translates into him being very good at shoving his clutter into closed spaces or his office (which is scary). But he thinks bathrooms should be filthy. For those you who know him, please feel free to challenge him on this theory. We have lived together for (oh GOD) almost 14 years and he has NEVER cleaned a bathroom. Very frustrating.
It took a good hour and 15 minutes but I proclaimed victory. Of course, in true familial fashion, the boys had dirtied 2 of the 3 of them within 15 minutes of my completion. Classic.
After doing my household chores I decided it was time to sit on my lazy toosh with the football game on and a knitting project on my lap. The problem? Well I have 2 working knitting projects - THE SOCK and a purse that I started about 3 months ago. Don't get me wrong, I banged out about 10 rows on THE SOCK - i.e. 1/3 of an inch. It's just so SLOW.
And I made the mistake of spending a bunch of time on the Lion Brand website - so I have a bunch of new projects I want to start. The problem? Oh I broke 2 of my circulars this weekend. In my defense, because I wasn't initially sure I could figure out knitting in round (which is actually very easy), I bought super-cheap circulars off of eBay. LOL. So last night I did go to KnitPicks.com (COOL SITE!!) and picked up a really nice set. Now I can't wait to get them.
Tomorrow at work I must must must slack off for 10 minutes and print off said project ideas!
Anyway, enough of THAT rambling.
My day is now winding down. My extra-clever, always thinking 7 year old tried to get me with yet another loophole today. I was explaining his cleverness to some of my online mom friends the other day.
*** Side note. On 2 of my mom groups, I am one of the more "seasoned" moms. For some reason I do not understand, this has lead the less experienced moms to the conclusion that I have a friggin clue what I'm doing. I don't have the heart to tell them that I am just as clueless as they are, my kid is just older. But for some reason, they respect my insights and history with my kid, hence my getting into these situations where I dispense advice. Gee I hope I'm not steering them the wrong way. Perhaps I should put a disclaimer in my BBC signature.
You know I love you, Moms, and am totally happy to help. I just promise you everything I know I learned by screwing up the first 100 times.
So we are watching football and G is putting together a Star Wars Lego set, complete with droids. At one point I hear "pwew pwew pwew" and see him pointing his gun-wielding droid at the TV. Now, I am not the type of parent to say "no guns", but he KNOWS we don't point guns at people - live or on TV -and pretend to shoot them. Given that, the exchange goes something like this:
Me: "G, don't shoot at people - real or pretend. This includes the football players on TV. You know that."
G: "MOM.....I'm not shooting them. This is a taser."
Cue dumbfounded Mom music. Pause.
Me: "New rule in this house. No shooting OR tasering people - real or fake, including those on TV. Got it?"
G: "Yes Mom. Sorry Mom."
Damn kid. A TASER? Where the hell did he learn about tasers????
I am so screwed. He's 7 and he's smarter than I am. What the hell am I going to do when he's 12?!?!?!?
I lost my parenting manual and now I'm losing my mind. He knows he's got a leg up on me.
And somehow I am qualified to dispense parenting advice? Oh BOY.
I decided for reasons unbeknownst to anyone but me to deep clean our bathrooms today. I know why - cleaning the bathroom, while utterly disgusting, is incredibly satistifying to me. There is nothing better than standing back and looking at your gleaming, fresh-smelling bathroom after scouring the hell out of it. Of course, I have 3 bathrooms in my house so, while this idea always seems like a good one from the get-go, by the time I'm done, I'm ready to kick my own ass for my sheer stupidity.
The bathrooms were in a true state of disarray today because frankly I can't tell you the last time I did a deep cleaning. Oh I wipe the surfaces down - NO NO ONE ELSE DOES - regularly but the deep cleaning is a much more infrequent thing.
How these bathrooms get so disgusting when there are only 3 of us, Hubby and I work full time, G is in school full time, and we are in activity hell is beyond me but frankly, I think it's mostly because males are slobs. Oh Hubby is "neat" - this translates into him being very good at shoving his clutter into closed spaces or his office (which is scary). But he thinks bathrooms should be filthy. For those you who know him, please feel free to challenge him on this theory. We have lived together for (oh GOD) almost 14 years and he has NEVER cleaned a bathroom. Very frustrating.
It took a good hour and 15 minutes but I proclaimed victory. Of course, in true familial fashion, the boys had dirtied 2 of the 3 of them within 15 minutes of my completion. Classic.
After doing my household chores I decided it was time to sit on my lazy toosh with the football game on and a knitting project on my lap. The problem? Well I have 2 working knitting projects - THE SOCK and a purse that I started about 3 months ago. Don't get me wrong, I banged out about 10 rows on THE SOCK - i.e. 1/3 of an inch. It's just so SLOW.
And I made the mistake of spending a bunch of time on the Lion Brand website - so I have a bunch of new projects I want to start. The problem? Oh I broke 2 of my circulars this weekend. In my defense, because I wasn't initially sure I could figure out knitting in round (which is actually very easy), I bought super-cheap circulars off of eBay. LOL. So last night I did go to KnitPicks.com (COOL SITE!!) and picked up a really nice set. Now I can't wait to get them.
Tomorrow at work I must must must slack off for 10 minutes and print off said project ideas!
Anyway, enough of THAT rambling.
My day is now winding down. My extra-clever, always thinking 7 year old tried to get me with yet another loophole today. I was explaining his cleverness to some of my online mom friends the other day.
*** Side note. On 2 of my mom groups, I am one of the more "seasoned" moms. For some reason I do not understand, this has lead the less experienced moms to the conclusion that I have a friggin clue what I'm doing. I don't have the heart to tell them that I am just as clueless as they are, my kid is just older. But for some reason, they respect my insights and history with my kid, hence my getting into these situations where I dispense advice. Gee I hope I'm not steering them the wrong way. Perhaps I should put a disclaimer in my BBC signature.
You know I love you, Moms, and am totally happy to help. I just promise you everything I know I learned by screwing up the first 100 times.
So we are watching football and G is putting together a Star Wars Lego set, complete with droids. At one point I hear "pwew pwew pwew" and see him pointing his gun-wielding droid at the TV. Now, I am not the type of parent to say "no guns", but he KNOWS we don't point guns at people - live or on TV -and pretend to shoot them. Given that, the exchange goes something like this:
Me: "G, don't shoot at people - real or pretend. This includes the football players on TV. You know that."
G: "MOM.....I'm not shooting them. This is a taser."
Cue dumbfounded Mom music. Pause.
Me: "New rule in this house. No shooting OR tasering people - real or fake, including those on TV. Got it?"
G: "Yes Mom. Sorry Mom."
Damn kid. A TASER? Where the hell did he learn about tasers????
I am so screwed. He's 7 and he's smarter than I am. What the hell am I going to do when he's 12?!?!?!?
I lost my parenting manual and now I'm losing my mind. He knows he's got a leg up on me.
And somehow I am qualified to dispense parenting advice? Oh BOY.
Friday, January 22, 2010
knits and ouches
Quick second post of the day.
I finished a cute hat for my friend Aubrey's little boy tonight. Will try to post pics tomorrow. I worked on "the sock" a bit, too - but you know, I need another project. I have a couple of ideas...going to dig around and decide what to do - hell, the boys are both asleep and have been since 8:30!!!
No running today. Planned day off and that's good because I am so friggin sore I could barely get out of my chair at work today. LOL.
I finished a cute hat for my friend Aubrey's little boy tonight. Will try to post pics tomorrow. I worked on "the sock" a bit, too - but you know, I need another project. I have a couple of ideas...going to dig around and decide what to do - hell, the boys are both asleep and have been since 8:30!!!
No running today. Planned day off and that's good because I am so friggin sore I could barely get out of my chair at work today. LOL.
sometimes it doesn't take much
Tonight I was struck by something. I am a mother - and someday soon, the person I mother will change. Again.
Sounds stupid, right? I mean, I've been a mom for nearly 8 years (or 9 if you count pregnancy). How am I just realizing this now?
Well - I'm not. But sometimes, it slaps me in the face.
What happened? Well, it was a small series of little events.
After our yummy dinner tonight, I ran down to the gas station closest to our house (I definitely curse the powers that be in this town who allowed a freakin' gas station within a mile of my house - good way to power-chow on a lot of crap food) to get some candy. Even Hubby wanted some, which means that hell actually did freeze over.
When I came back out to my car - armed with 4 yes 4 candy bars thank you very much - there was a car next to me. That in and of itself at 8pm on a Friday night is somewhat newsworthy in our sleepy little town. In it was a mom and her 2 daughters. Check that. One of her daughters was getting out of the car when I walked out. A Ugg-clad, cell-phone wielding, texting probably 14 year old daughter. Her other daughter, complete with nose-piercing and comparable pair of Uggs, was chatting with her.
And it slammed me. The girl is 14. I remember being 14. Vividly. And my kid will be 14 in 6 years. SIX YEARS. I was 14 a good solid 2 decades ago. Oh God.
I am barely holding my head above water parenting a not-quite-8 year old. Don't shake your head at me. I know I'm a good Mom. But I also know that parenting is hard. I'm parenting a 7 year old BOY. Compared to a 14 year old girl, that sure as hell must be simple. I know it is. I have friend with teenagers, and the stories they tell me make my toes curl.
Yet still I find parenting my kid a challenge. So a moment like this puts a "OH GOD WHAT THE HELL HAVE A DONE???" panic into my chest. Simultaneously, it makes me well aware of the speed of life and time - something my parents assured me of when I was a child and something I thought was stupid.
I smiled at the family and moved along my merry way, coming home and shaking my head, realizing that instead of facing a huge cell phone bill and trying to figure out why Uggs are so expensive and fretting about what exactly teenagers do when they "go out" or "hang out" or go on a date...I'm worrying that G will never actually learn how to raise his hand in class, and he will dance naked in the living room when he's supposed to be taking a shower for the 50th time.
I realized that no matter what their age, our kids give us joy and fits and stomach cramps and tears. The causes of them just vary. Again - a fact I know, but that is sometimes underlined by a moment - a fleeting one, one that wouldn't seem meaningful to a person observing it.
After I got home and G did his naked dance and gave his father a major ration of crap and got caught mimicking him in the bathroom mirror....
I started sorting through the 6 months (love the digital camera until it's time to order prints) of photographs I just recently ordered from Snapfish...I had ordered one 5x7 of my handsome little man which really shows off his gorgeous blue eyes and, if I don't say so myself, my ability to take a kick-ass picture.
I grabbed the frame I wanted to put it in. One of my favorite things about putting up new pics - seeing the old ones in the frame that haven't been out in years.
And the earth shook under me again.
This is an old frame. The oldest picture in the frame is from a beautiful fall day when G was about 18 months old. He's standing under the tree in our front yard, leaves everywhere, complete with an Elmo hat on his head. I took the pic off-center on purpose, and the look on his face is patently "Giani is in his own head, figuring shit out".
He is absolutely a BABY in this picture.
I realized then - the time that has elapsed since this pic was taken is the time that will elapse and lead him to being 14.
Seredipity much?
I showed G the picture. He was tickled but puzzled as to why he was wearing an Elmo hat. Apparently he forgot he ever liked - check that, LOVED - Elmo.
My baby is gone. Oh he'll always be my baby - but he is a baby no more. I know this, but it's these fleeting and seemingly unmeaningful moments that remind me. They remind me to slow down and breathe and watch him grow - even if only for a second.
My job as his mother is to mother him - to raise him into a person who is well-rounded and loving and equipped for life as an adult. I'm not sad at the prospect of him being an adult. In fact, I'm happy about it. I can't wait to see what he'll be like at 10, 14, 25.
It's the getting there.
It's amazing when you see the compassion in his eyes as he tells me I need to give more money to the kids in Haiti, and asks me if we can go there to help rebuild.
It's inspiring when, in the crowd of the 5 neighborhood kids who are between 7 and 9 years old, he is the only one (and the only boy) who stops and tries to help the 4 year old who's trying to keep up and keeps getting stuck in the 15 inches of snow.
It's frustrating and scary when you get yet another "Mrs. XXX, can we talk at some point today about G's behavior at school?" email in your work inbox on a particularly hectic Thursday afternoon.
It's a pride-inducing thing when that same teacher says "Despite his not listening to me to stop reading and missing all of the directions to his quarterly evaluation exam, he got 100% - on all 4 sections. And I'm not surprised - the work is far too easy for him."
It's funny when he gets a bad case of the giggles because his cat is meowing at a piece of styrofoam on the floor.
It's squishy mushy love-y when he wants just more snuggle with you and Old Blue, his tried and true blankie from his babyhood - before his warm-smelling, little boy scarred, bruised, toussled hair self goes to sleep for the night.
I never thought I'd be a Mom. Never. I'm a perfectionist. This is not a good trait for a Mom. And some days, I think I should be committed for ever trying it. I'm scared and overwhelmed and my guidebook got lost in the mail.
But I don't regret my little boy. He is amazing and I simply can't imagine my life without him in it. That Ugg-wearing teenager and that baby in the picture frame - they reminded me tonight on an otherwise normal, mundane yet crazy Friday.
Sounds stupid, right? I mean, I've been a mom for nearly 8 years (or 9 if you count pregnancy). How am I just realizing this now?
Well - I'm not. But sometimes, it slaps me in the face.
What happened? Well, it was a small series of little events.
After our yummy dinner tonight, I ran down to the gas station closest to our house (I definitely curse the powers that be in this town who allowed a freakin' gas station within a mile of my house - good way to power-chow on a lot of crap food) to get some candy. Even Hubby wanted some, which means that hell actually did freeze over.
When I came back out to my car - armed with 4 yes 4 candy bars thank you very much - there was a car next to me. That in and of itself at 8pm on a Friday night is somewhat newsworthy in our sleepy little town. In it was a mom and her 2 daughters. Check that. One of her daughters was getting out of the car when I walked out. A Ugg-clad, cell-phone wielding, texting probably 14 year old daughter. Her other daughter, complete with nose-piercing and comparable pair of Uggs, was chatting with her.
And it slammed me. The girl is 14. I remember being 14. Vividly. And my kid will be 14 in 6 years. SIX YEARS. I was 14 a good solid 2 decades ago. Oh God.
I am barely holding my head above water parenting a not-quite-8 year old. Don't shake your head at me. I know I'm a good Mom. But I also know that parenting is hard. I'm parenting a 7 year old BOY. Compared to a 14 year old girl, that sure as hell must be simple. I know it is. I have friend with teenagers, and the stories they tell me make my toes curl.
Yet still I find parenting my kid a challenge. So a moment like this puts a "OH GOD WHAT THE HELL HAVE A DONE???" panic into my chest. Simultaneously, it makes me well aware of the speed of life and time - something my parents assured me of when I was a child and something I thought was stupid.
I smiled at the family and moved along my merry way, coming home and shaking my head, realizing that instead of facing a huge cell phone bill and trying to figure out why Uggs are so expensive and fretting about what exactly teenagers do when they "go out" or "hang out" or go on a date...I'm worrying that G will never actually learn how to raise his hand in class, and he will dance naked in the living room when he's supposed to be taking a shower for the 50th time.
I realized that no matter what their age, our kids give us joy and fits and stomach cramps and tears. The causes of them just vary. Again - a fact I know, but that is sometimes underlined by a moment - a fleeting one, one that wouldn't seem meaningful to a person observing it.
After I got home and G did his naked dance and gave his father a major ration of crap and got caught mimicking him in the bathroom mirror....
I started sorting through the 6 months (love the digital camera until it's time to order prints) of photographs I just recently ordered from Snapfish...I had ordered one 5x7 of my handsome little man which really shows off his gorgeous blue eyes and, if I don't say so myself, my ability to take a kick-ass picture.
I grabbed the frame I wanted to put it in. One of my favorite things about putting up new pics - seeing the old ones in the frame that haven't been out in years.
And the earth shook under me again.
This is an old frame. The oldest picture in the frame is from a beautiful fall day when G was about 18 months old. He's standing under the tree in our front yard, leaves everywhere, complete with an Elmo hat on his head. I took the pic off-center on purpose, and the look on his face is patently "Giani is in his own head, figuring shit out".
He is absolutely a BABY in this picture.
I realized then - the time that has elapsed since this pic was taken is the time that will elapse and lead him to being 14.
Seredipity much?
I showed G the picture. He was tickled but puzzled as to why he was wearing an Elmo hat. Apparently he forgot he ever liked - check that, LOVED - Elmo.
My baby is gone. Oh he'll always be my baby - but he is a baby no more. I know this, but it's these fleeting and seemingly unmeaningful moments that remind me. They remind me to slow down and breathe and watch him grow - even if only for a second.
My job as his mother is to mother him - to raise him into a person who is well-rounded and loving and equipped for life as an adult. I'm not sad at the prospect of him being an adult. In fact, I'm happy about it. I can't wait to see what he'll be like at 10, 14, 25.
It's the getting there.
It's amazing when you see the compassion in his eyes as he tells me I need to give more money to the kids in Haiti, and asks me if we can go there to help rebuild.
It's inspiring when, in the crowd of the 5 neighborhood kids who are between 7 and 9 years old, he is the only one (and the only boy) who stops and tries to help the 4 year old who's trying to keep up and keeps getting stuck in the 15 inches of snow.
It's frustrating and scary when you get yet another "Mrs. XXX, can we talk at some point today about G's behavior at school?" email in your work inbox on a particularly hectic Thursday afternoon.
It's a pride-inducing thing when that same teacher says "Despite his not listening to me to stop reading and missing all of the directions to his quarterly evaluation exam, he got 100% - on all 4 sections. And I'm not surprised - the work is far too easy for him."
It's funny when he gets a bad case of the giggles because his cat is meowing at a piece of styrofoam on the floor.
It's squishy mushy love-y when he wants just more snuggle with you and Old Blue, his tried and true blankie from his babyhood - before his warm-smelling, little boy scarred, bruised, toussled hair self goes to sleep for the night.
I never thought I'd be a Mom. Never. I'm a perfectionist. This is not a good trait for a Mom. And some days, I think I should be committed for ever trying it. I'm scared and overwhelmed and my guidebook got lost in the mail.
But I don't regret my little boy. He is amazing and I simply can't imagine my life without him in it. That Ugg-wearing teenager and that baby in the picture frame - they reminded me tonight on an otherwise normal, mundane yet crazy Friday.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
movement is difficult
Now that I've waxed philosophical about my drama-filled life...
I ran again today. And it sucked ASS. Oh my GOD. I knew I was sore. I didn't realize quite HOW sore I was. I think it slammed me all at once when I got to the gym because I was in meetings all.damn.day and my movement was limited to quick trips to the ladies room. LOL.
Needless to say, I dragged my sore and feeling incredibly ancient body through about 2.5 miles of running in 27 minutes. Awful.
*** I realize I have high standards and unnecessarily ridiculous expectations of myself. Here's the problem. I ran competitively in high school and early college. I remember a time when a 10 minute mile was practically walking. Apparently, my brain has not caught up to the fact that I am now an over-full-time working Mom who is 36 years old. I still think of myself as 16. MISTAKE.
But you know - I did it. I powered through.
So now my internet time for the evening is winding down - it's almost time for Grey's and some knitting. I need to finish the cute little boy hat I started...that is, if I can find it. Hmm...how I misplaced a skein of yarn and a half-finished hat is beyond me.
OH - and apparently I may be teaching a knitting class at work. I told the organizer that I am a hack. She assured me that makes me more than qualified. Heaven help everyone who learns from me - she who casts on too loosely and can be a little spacey about the number of stitches she actually starts with. LOL.
I ran again today. And it sucked ASS. Oh my GOD. I knew I was sore. I didn't realize quite HOW sore I was. I think it slammed me all at once when I got to the gym because I was in meetings all.damn.day and my movement was limited to quick trips to the ladies room. LOL.
Needless to say, I dragged my sore and feeling incredibly ancient body through about 2.5 miles of running in 27 minutes. Awful.
*** I realize I have high standards and unnecessarily ridiculous expectations of myself. Here's the problem. I ran competitively in high school and early college. I remember a time when a 10 minute mile was practically walking. Apparently, my brain has not caught up to the fact that I am now an over-full-time working Mom who is 36 years old. I still think of myself as 16. MISTAKE.
But you know - I did it. I powered through.
So now my internet time for the evening is winding down - it's almost time for Grey's and some knitting. I need to finish the cute little boy hat I started...that is, if I can find it. Hmm...how I misplaced a skein of yarn and a half-finished hat is beyond me.
OH - and apparently I may be teaching a knitting class at work. I told the organizer that I am a hack. She assured me that makes me more than qualified. Heaven help everyone who learns from me - she who casts on too loosely and can be a little spacey about the number of stitches she actually starts with. LOL.
leaping feet first
I was feeling a bit introspective this evening - maybe because of some crap I have been going through for a while or maybe just because work has me totally frazzled - and I started thinking about trust. Trusting your spouse, your friends, your kids.
Trust is frightening and yet so important. Without trust, I don't think a relationship - any relationship - can really BE. I know people - men and women - who monitor their significant others like hawks, because they don't trust them. I don't understand that. What's the end there? I mean, I get having some healthy skepticism and I also truly believe that people in a committed relationship should be respectful of each other - you know, let your loved one know where you're headed and if you're going to be late. But monitoring them like young child...doesn't feel like trust to me.
I also don't think it works. I think it causes a cancer in a relationship - the person watched somehow feels like s/he is set up for failure. And the person watching is just sitting waiting for the other one to fuck up. I can't judge what others do - but that's not me. I've been watched - for no apparent reason - and it's hurtful. It feels like you will fail - maybe not by doing something horrible but simply by being. You feel like you don't merit the person's love or appreciation unless you "earn" it.
And I was once the watcher. Honestly, it makes it worse. You're living with that constant expectation of the proverbial ax falling. You never feel comfortable in the relationship you're in.
And I don't mean just love relationships - I've seen this occur in friendships and with children. it's a little different - but the issue is still there.
The problem is, trusting someone is an enormous leap of faith. This applies to a spouse/significant other - you trust them to love you for you, to be faithful, to be honest, to think of you first and others after that. You trust your friends to be honest with you, have your best interests at heart, to tell you when you're talking out of your ass, being too sensitive, or hurting them. You trust your children to learn from what you teach them, to think of the values you've set in them when you're not there to monitor them, to grow into functional and respectable adults.
All that trust - it's all RISK. So how do you trust in yourself to know when trusting is the right thing to do?
I think implicitly, most of us trust those we care about and those who we believe care about us. But it's still a huge leap of faith to put your trust in a person. And what do you do if they break your trust? Do you forgive, forget, and move on? Do you draw a line in the sand and decide to never trust them again? Do you mourn, get frustrated and angry, and then start over? How do you know in your heart - or in your bones - the right call there?
I struggle with this a lot. By nature, I am a very guarded person. I have been hurt by significant others, by friends, by collegues. I seem to be the type of person easily thrown under the bus.
This leads me to start off most of my new relationships definitely not trusting the person. This makes people assume I am snobby or standoffish or think I'm better than them. This could not be farther from the truth.
What I am is afraid. I'm afraid because once I choose to trust someone, I TRUST them. I have been accused of being too nice or caring too much - I don't think of it that way. I reserve my care, concern, and love for a chosen few - the people that feel right to me. It's an "in my bones" sort of 11th hour decision. Once I choose to care about you, I will care, I will trust, and it will be implicit. Until I decide that, I will be guarded and doubtful.
This puts me in a complicated situation if something causes that trust to be questioned. I'm there now. I'm trying to figure out what to do. I'd like to start over - but my guarded self is afraid. In fact, it's far more frightening to me to try to trust someone I already trusted - who betrayed me and let me down - than it is to trust someone I never trusted before, never knew.
Problem is - obviously I cared - and care. So I want to trust. It's the getting there that's the trick.
Speaking of - anyone got a trick for working through this? Right now, it has me anxious and nervous and not trusting myself, my gut, my intellect, my feelings. I want to leap back in feet first - it feels right. But the fear - the fear looms like a black cloud and slaps me - makes my heart race and my hands sweat.
Trust is frightening and yet so important. Without trust, I don't think a relationship - any relationship - can really BE. I know people - men and women - who monitor their significant others like hawks, because they don't trust them. I don't understand that. What's the end there? I mean, I get having some healthy skepticism and I also truly believe that people in a committed relationship should be respectful of each other - you know, let your loved one know where you're headed and if you're going to be late. But monitoring them like young child...doesn't feel like trust to me.
I also don't think it works. I think it causes a cancer in a relationship - the person watched somehow feels like s/he is set up for failure. And the person watching is just sitting waiting for the other one to fuck up. I can't judge what others do - but that's not me. I've been watched - for no apparent reason - and it's hurtful. It feels like you will fail - maybe not by doing something horrible but simply by being. You feel like you don't merit the person's love or appreciation unless you "earn" it.
And I was once the watcher. Honestly, it makes it worse. You're living with that constant expectation of the proverbial ax falling. You never feel comfortable in the relationship you're in.
And I don't mean just love relationships - I've seen this occur in friendships and with children. it's a little different - but the issue is still there.
The problem is, trusting someone is an enormous leap of faith. This applies to a spouse/significant other - you trust them to love you for you, to be faithful, to be honest, to think of you first and others after that. You trust your friends to be honest with you, have your best interests at heart, to tell you when you're talking out of your ass, being too sensitive, or hurting them. You trust your children to learn from what you teach them, to think of the values you've set in them when you're not there to monitor them, to grow into functional and respectable adults.
All that trust - it's all RISK. So how do you trust in yourself to know when trusting is the right thing to do?
I think implicitly, most of us trust those we care about and those who we believe care about us. But it's still a huge leap of faith to put your trust in a person. And what do you do if they break your trust? Do you forgive, forget, and move on? Do you draw a line in the sand and decide to never trust them again? Do you mourn, get frustrated and angry, and then start over? How do you know in your heart - or in your bones - the right call there?
I struggle with this a lot. By nature, I am a very guarded person. I have been hurt by significant others, by friends, by collegues. I seem to be the type of person easily thrown under the bus.
This leads me to start off most of my new relationships definitely not trusting the person. This makes people assume I am snobby or standoffish or think I'm better than them. This could not be farther from the truth.
What I am is afraid. I'm afraid because once I choose to trust someone, I TRUST them. I have been accused of being too nice or caring too much - I don't think of it that way. I reserve my care, concern, and love for a chosen few - the people that feel right to me. It's an "in my bones" sort of 11th hour decision. Once I choose to care about you, I will care, I will trust, and it will be implicit. Until I decide that, I will be guarded and doubtful.
This puts me in a complicated situation if something causes that trust to be questioned. I'm there now. I'm trying to figure out what to do. I'd like to start over - but my guarded self is afraid. In fact, it's far more frightening to me to try to trust someone I already trusted - who betrayed me and let me down - than it is to trust someone I never trusted before, never knew.
Problem is - obviously I cared - and care. So I want to trust. It's the getting there that's the trick.
Speaking of - anyone got a trick for working through this? Right now, it has me anxious and nervous and not trusting myself, my gut, my intellect, my feelings. I want to leap back in feet first - it feels right. But the fear - the fear looms like a black cloud and slaps me - makes my heart race and my hands sweat.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
"Just Breathe"
Many thanks to Pearl Jam for giving me the title of today's blog AND turning out a fabulous love song in "Just Breathe". If you have not heard this yet - you MUST. It's wonderful - lyrically and musically.
But I digress. Business first. 2.87 miles. 30 minutes. RUNNING. It's a miracle. I finally got my lazy ass on the treadmill.
I was then blessed with a rather nasty footcramp in the middle of dinner. What a way to ruin my enjoyment of a tasty crockpot beef stew. Stupid foot. Stupid dehydration.
My knitting feels like it's been lax, especially in light of the fact that I was home all on my own (thank you school vacation program!) on Monday. But I realized I'm not giving myself enough credit. When we were out on Friday night - love girls' night out! - my friend Marnie asked me to knit her a scarf. She was on my list of recepients - I love making those scarves for friends - but I wasn't sure if she wanted black or pink. Confirmed - pink.
These are fun and easy scarves. You make them with 1 skein of Lion Brand yarn, knitting 2 strand together on huge (19) needles. When motivated, they take about 2 hours. When watching mindless daytime TV - more like 5 - with ample time allotted for chocolate breaks.
Not sure if I've mentioned my love of all things chocolate but yeah - I love it and will stop just about anything for chocolate. But you can take your white chocolate (NOT chocolate) and milk chocolate (lame) and stick it. Give me dark chocolate. Tonight I polished off a bar of 70% cacao organic chocolate that Hubby undoubtedly paid way too much for at the local health food store. It was YUM.
And while we're on food...since it's on the in background...
Man Vs. Food filmed in CT about 2 months ago, at a haunt that Hubby likes to go to regularly. He happened to be there the day of filming and has been a man on a mission (as our DVR will attest to) to record and view that episode since then....and it's on at 9:30. I admit, even I want to watch.
He's got the prior episode on right now and I am disgusted to watch Adam eat some sort of 55 burger cheeseburger. GROSS. Earlier in the episode he was chowing on Mexican, though, which reminds me - need to have Mexican food asap.
Wow, looking at the paragraphs above - I want to assure you all that I do not have Multiple Personality Disorder. Without getting into details, I have a lot going on right now - personally and professionally. This is leaving me extraordinarily disjointed, hence the all-over-the-place tone of this particular blog entry. My apologies - my next foray into rambling about my odd life will be more cohesive - or at least I'll try.
For now I'm off to watch Man Vs. Food and attempt to pare my 247 unread work emails down below the 200 mark. Cross your fingers for me - seems unlikely.
But I digress. Business first. 2.87 miles. 30 minutes. RUNNING. It's a miracle. I finally got my lazy ass on the treadmill.
I was then blessed with a rather nasty footcramp in the middle of dinner. What a way to ruin my enjoyment of a tasty crockpot beef stew. Stupid foot. Stupid dehydration.
My knitting feels like it's been lax, especially in light of the fact that I was home all on my own (thank you school vacation program!) on Monday. But I realized I'm not giving myself enough credit. When we were out on Friday night - love girls' night out! - my friend Marnie asked me to knit her a scarf. She was on my list of recepients - I love making those scarves for friends - but I wasn't sure if she wanted black or pink. Confirmed - pink.
These are fun and easy scarves. You make them with 1 skein of Lion Brand yarn, knitting 2 strand together on huge (19) needles. When motivated, they take about 2 hours. When watching mindless daytime TV - more like 5 - with ample time allotted for chocolate breaks.
Not sure if I've mentioned my love of all things chocolate but yeah - I love it and will stop just about anything for chocolate. But you can take your white chocolate (NOT chocolate) and milk chocolate (lame) and stick it. Give me dark chocolate. Tonight I polished off a bar of 70% cacao organic chocolate that Hubby undoubtedly paid way too much for at the local health food store. It was YUM.
And while we're on food...since it's on the in background...
Man Vs. Food filmed in CT about 2 months ago, at a haunt that Hubby likes to go to regularly. He happened to be there the day of filming and has been a man on a mission (as our DVR will attest to) to record and view that episode since then....and it's on at 9:30. I admit, even I want to watch.
He's got the prior episode on right now and I am disgusted to watch Adam eat some sort of 55 burger cheeseburger. GROSS. Earlier in the episode he was chowing on Mexican, though, which reminds me - need to have Mexican food asap.
Wow, looking at the paragraphs above - I want to assure you all that I do not have Multiple Personality Disorder. Without getting into details, I have a lot going on right now - personally and professionally. This is leaving me extraordinarily disjointed, hence the all-over-the-place tone of this particular blog entry. My apologies - my next foray into rambling about my odd life will be more cohesive - or at least I'll try.
For now I'm off to watch Man Vs. Food and attempt to pare my 247 unread work emails down below the 200 mark. Cross your fingers for me - seems unlikely.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
10:30pm and silence
The boys have been sleeping since 8:30 and 9pm respectively. Just another evening in my household. Hubby goes to bed SO early...and doesn't seem to understand why I don't. Sometimes being married to someone who is so different from you is difficult.
I popped back on here quickly to post about a new site I'm going to use to track my exercise - running I guess now. Yeah I guess it's time to at least run a couple of days a week. Thanks to my friend Claire for telling me about this site:
http://www.dailymile.com/
You can find me as Andrea D. :-)
I popped back on here quickly to post about a new site I'm going to use to track my exercise - running I guess now. Yeah I guess it's time to at least run a couple of days a week. Thanks to my friend Claire for telling me about this site:
http://www.dailymile.com/
You can find me as Andrea D. :-)
brownie overload
I can't believe I haven't written in here in 3 days. What a slacker!! I have spent too much time eating brownies and drinking beer - not necessarily together (YUCK).
One of my favorite things about knitting - and quilting for that matter - is making something for someone and having them love it - whether it's a surprise or something requested. That's sort of my personality - I am a giver (THIS IS NOT ALWAYS A GOOD THING - believe me, I have learned my lesson in other facets of my life recently). But I think it goes beyond that.
When I make something, I put my heart into it. I love taking ubiquitous, inoccuous materials like yarn or simple cotton fabrics, and weaving them together into something warm or cozy or beautiful or functional.
I am lucky because over the last several days, some of the projects I've made recently have brought happiness to those who received them. And when that enjoyment was shared with me - it made me smile.
I made scarves for 2 of my very good friends for Christmas. Both friends happen to work with me and, upon my delivery of their gifts, I got a few other requests for scarves. These scarves are SO simple to make - they are a perfect first knitting project, actually, because they are knitted on huge needles and are in a stockingnet stitch. You can't get much easier than that.
So of course when the other ladies made mention of "Oh I'd love one!" I just had to go out and pick up some more of that cuddly, soft, great yarn (Lion brand Homespun - love that stuff) in some fun colors and put together a few more scarves. And so I did. And those were well-received. In fact, I take it as a huge compliment when I saw 1 scarf in a meeting on Thursday afternoon and one at happy hour on Friday night. Our 4th friend at happy hour then put her order in for one, somewhat sheepishly (silly girl, she was next on my list anyway) - and I get to make a PINK one. YAY!! That's been started and since I am home alone for a DAY OFF tomorrow, I'm hoping to finish it up same day. We'll see.
I also had G deliver the hats I made for our neighbors' daughters today, and was greeted promptly with a great thank you note on FB. LOVE IT!!
I backed my mantel scarf yesterday and today I picked up the binding tape for it. Perhaps tomorrow I'll also bind it. Then I jump into the unknown territory of machine quilting. HELP ME!!!!
I love how much joy my hobbies bring to me. They are a little shining star on my darkest days. The last month has been difficult - I feel like I am at a huge crossroads in my life - but I can pick up a project and breathe slightly easier. At least for a little while.
One of my favorite things about knitting - and quilting for that matter - is making something for someone and having them love it - whether it's a surprise or something requested. That's sort of my personality - I am a giver (THIS IS NOT ALWAYS A GOOD THING - believe me, I have learned my lesson in other facets of my life recently). But I think it goes beyond that.
When I make something, I put my heart into it. I love taking ubiquitous, inoccuous materials like yarn or simple cotton fabrics, and weaving them together into something warm or cozy or beautiful or functional.
I am lucky because over the last several days, some of the projects I've made recently have brought happiness to those who received them. And when that enjoyment was shared with me - it made me smile.
I made scarves for 2 of my very good friends for Christmas. Both friends happen to work with me and, upon my delivery of their gifts, I got a few other requests for scarves. These scarves are SO simple to make - they are a perfect first knitting project, actually, because they are knitted on huge needles and are in a stockingnet stitch. You can't get much easier than that.
So of course when the other ladies made mention of "Oh I'd love one!" I just had to go out and pick up some more of that cuddly, soft, great yarn (Lion brand Homespun - love that stuff) in some fun colors and put together a few more scarves. And so I did. And those were well-received. In fact, I take it as a huge compliment when I saw 1 scarf in a meeting on Thursday afternoon and one at happy hour on Friday night. Our 4th friend at happy hour then put her order in for one, somewhat sheepishly (silly girl, she was next on my list anyway) - and I get to make a PINK one. YAY!! That's been started and since I am home alone for a DAY OFF tomorrow, I'm hoping to finish it up same day. We'll see.
I also had G deliver the hats I made for our neighbors' daughters today, and was greeted promptly with a great thank you note on FB. LOVE IT!!
I backed my mantel scarf yesterday and today I picked up the binding tape for it. Perhaps tomorrow I'll also bind it. Then I jump into the unknown territory of machine quilting. HELP ME!!!!
I love how much joy my hobbies bring to me. They are a little shining star on my darkest days. The last month has been difficult - I feel like I am at a huge crossroads in my life - but I can pick up a project and breathe slightly easier. At least for a little while.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
selfishness not permitted
One of the things I find most difficult about being a Mom is that there are few occasions where selfishness is really ok. This is hard - not because I'm a selfish person (I don't think I am), but because parenting is a 24/7 job, and sometimes, it is a challenge to balance with the rest of your life.
G woke up this morning with a sore throat. Ok. Cold coming on. He seemed a bit sluggish but otherwise ok - he asked me to pick him up "late" tonight so he could play longer at aftercare. I didn't plan to do that, though, figuring there was a good chance he'd be wiped out if he was coming down with something.
Of course, around 1pm I am contacted by the school - but not a sick call. It's a "Mrs XXXX, can we talk today about G's behavior." email. Oh I love those calls and emails.
It seems - and I already knew this and have been addressing it - my book junkie child is having major difficulties extricating himself from his books when free reading time is over (and free reading time is on and off during the day). We talked about this the other day in the car on the way to school when G said "MOM, it's not faaaaaaaaaaaair. Mrs. R won't let me READ! Reading isn't naughty behavior. Hitting people is bad and I don't hit anymore. I don't get it. I'm reading!! Isn't that a good thing."
Queue challenging parenting moment #40954 music.
"Yes, G. Reading is great! I am SO proud of how much you read and how well you read." "Thanks Mom - I'm going to beat Mrs. R's record and get past R!" "I know honey. But listen. It's not the reading that's naughty. It's the fact that you don't stop when she asks you, that you're reading still when you should be doing something else, that's naughty." "I don't get it, Mom. I'm not doing anything BAD. I'm READING!"
Repeat conversation the x number of times it can be repeated in the time it takes to get to school...sigh....
In any event, after discussing this exact issue with his teacher for 10 minutes, whereby we concluded I will keep talking to him, she will keep talking to him, and he'll keep the daily schedule of the classroom on his desk for quick reference, she let me know:
- He got a red today for this. She said he was free reading after all 4 sections of a test (they are doing assessment tests this week) and all 4 times she had to ask him multiple times to STOP reading. She then pointed out that this caused him to miss the instructions for the subsequent section of the test. "This would have been an effective deterrent but it didn't matter - he got the entire test right. Of course." His teacher has the little stinker's number too. Who said raising a smart kid was EASY!?!?!?
- He felt like crap in the afternoon.
Fabulous. So when I did get to pick him up, he was his weepy, I don't feel good self. This was confirmed by the 101 on the thermometer when we got home. Poor little dude. Thankfully a HUGE dinner (geez he eats more than I do!) and a shot of Motrin did the trick, and he enjoyed his evening of BBQ Pit Masters on TLC. LOL.
I love that kid. Problem is? I haven't had social plans in a WHILE. Gregg's schedule is so damn busy. Guess when I have plans? Tomorrow night. Oh yeah. And I just took on the role of chairperson on a big committee at work that chooses peer award winners. Our kick-off meeting for the first quarter winners? Tomorrow.
SIGH. I toe the line closely on this one. I'm not mad at my kid for being sick. I don't want him to be sick, poor little guy! My frustrations aren't directed at him - they are directed at the situation and the timing. 2010 is off to a sucktastic start - I need the breather.
Oh well. We'll see. He seemed fine when we went to bed - with him, one never ever knows. If not, well, I want to stay home and juggle my work schedule and make sure he rests. I'll make new plans.
This motherhood thing. I am in envy of women who find it simple. It challenges me - every.single.day.
G woke up this morning with a sore throat. Ok. Cold coming on. He seemed a bit sluggish but otherwise ok - he asked me to pick him up "late" tonight so he could play longer at aftercare. I didn't plan to do that, though, figuring there was a good chance he'd be wiped out if he was coming down with something.
Of course, around 1pm I am contacted by the school - but not a sick call. It's a "Mrs XXXX, can we talk today about G's behavior." email. Oh I love those calls and emails.
It seems - and I already knew this and have been addressing it - my book junkie child is having major difficulties extricating himself from his books when free reading time is over (and free reading time is on and off during the day). We talked about this the other day in the car on the way to school when G said "MOM, it's not faaaaaaaaaaaair. Mrs. R won't let me READ! Reading isn't naughty behavior. Hitting people is bad and I don't hit anymore. I don't get it. I'm reading!! Isn't that a good thing."
Queue challenging parenting moment #40954 music.
"Yes, G. Reading is great! I am SO proud of how much you read and how well you read." "Thanks Mom - I'm going to beat Mrs. R's record and get past R!" "I know honey. But listen. It's not the reading that's naughty. It's the fact that you don't stop when she asks you, that you're reading still when you should be doing something else, that's naughty." "I don't get it, Mom. I'm not doing anything BAD. I'm READING!"
Repeat conversation the x number of times it can be repeated in the time it takes to get to school...sigh....
In any event, after discussing this exact issue with his teacher for 10 minutes, whereby we concluded I will keep talking to him, she will keep talking to him, and he'll keep the daily schedule of the classroom on his desk for quick reference, she let me know:
- He got a red today for this. She said he was free reading after all 4 sections of a test (they are doing assessment tests this week) and all 4 times she had to ask him multiple times to STOP reading. She then pointed out that this caused him to miss the instructions for the subsequent section of the test. "This would have been an effective deterrent but it didn't matter - he got the entire test right. Of course." His teacher has the little stinker's number too. Who said raising a smart kid was EASY!?!?!?
- He felt like crap in the afternoon.
Fabulous. So when I did get to pick him up, he was his weepy, I don't feel good self. This was confirmed by the 101 on the thermometer when we got home. Poor little dude. Thankfully a HUGE dinner (geez he eats more than I do!) and a shot of Motrin did the trick, and he enjoyed his evening of BBQ Pit Masters on TLC. LOL.
I love that kid. Problem is? I haven't had social plans in a WHILE. Gregg's schedule is so damn busy. Guess when I have plans? Tomorrow night. Oh yeah. And I just took on the role of chairperson on a big committee at work that chooses peer award winners. Our kick-off meeting for the first quarter winners? Tomorrow.
SIGH. I toe the line closely on this one. I'm not mad at my kid for being sick. I don't want him to be sick, poor little guy! My frustrations aren't directed at him - they are directed at the situation and the timing. 2010 is off to a sucktastic start - I need the breather.
Oh well. We'll see. He seemed fine when we went to bed - with him, one never ever knows. If not, well, I want to stay home and juggle my work schedule and make sure he rests. I'll make new plans.
This motherhood thing. I am in envy of women who find it simple. It challenges me - every.single.day.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
and while I'm at it...
I am a lyrics girl. I wish I could write music lyrics. I can play music. I am blessed to have that gifts. But lyrics? Music is math. Lyrics are art. I can't.
But I can love them.
Tonight I was sitting here chewing over the hardness of today - the tears and the anxiety - and I remembered a song from probably one of my 5 most favorite albums of all time ("Fumbling Towards Ecstacy" - Sarah McLachlan - geez even the title is fucking fabulous). There are several songs on there that I could listen to for hours - but the one that summed up today is "Plenty":
I looked into your eyes
they told me plenty
I already knew
you never felt a thing
so soon forgotten all that you do
in more than words I
tried to tell you
the more I tried I failed
I would not let myself believe
that you might stray
and I would stand by you
no matter what they'd say, I would have thought I'd be with you
until my dying day
until my dying day
I used to think my life
was often empty
a lonely space to fill
you hurt me more than
I ever would have imagined
you made my world stand still
and in that stillness
there was a freedom
I never felt before
I would not let myself believe
that you might stray
and I would stand by you
no matter what they'd say, I would have thought I'd be with you
until my dying day
until my dying day
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4W6cqFE1MVM&feature=related
But I can love them.
Tonight I was sitting here chewing over the hardness of today - the tears and the anxiety - and I remembered a song from probably one of my 5 most favorite albums of all time ("Fumbling Towards Ecstacy" - Sarah McLachlan - geez even the title is fucking fabulous). There are several songs on there that I could listen to for hours - but the one that summed up today is "Plenty":
I looked into your eyes
they told me plenty
I already knew
you never felt a thing
so soon forgotten all that you do
in more than words I
tried to tell you
the more I tried I failed
I would not let myself believe
that you might stray
and I would stand by you
no matter what they'd say, I would have thought I'd be with you
until my dying day
until my dying day
I used to think my life
was often empty
a lonely space to fill
you hurt me more than
I ever would have imagined
you made my world stand still
and in that stillness
there was a freedom
I never felt before
I would not let myself believe
that you might stray
and I would stand by you
no matter what they'd say, I would have thought I'd be with you
until my dying day
until my dying day
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4W6cqFE1MVM&feature=related
ironing and cat fights
I was taking a much-needed potty break today at work when I glanced down at my very cute Victoria's Secret boy shorts and noticed the following on the label:
"Do not iron"
WHAT? I'm sorry WHAT?????
Do people actually iron their fucking undies? Especially women? Shouldn't clothing be, I don't know, outerwear in order to merit ironing?
I don't iron. Period. I have 1 shirt that requires ironing and I have Gregg do it. Otherwise I use Downy Wrinkle Release (that stuff kicks ass). I do not have enough hours in my day, enough motivation in my body, or enough of an interesting bedroom life to IRON my underwear.
So really, Victoria's Secret, what the hell is that note for!?!?!?!
-----
On an unrelated note - today was a day of woman-to-woman drama. All over. My real life and then on an internet board that I belong to. Yeah, I'm one of those.
I don't understand why we women sometimes pit ourselves against each other. I really don't. We fight over men, we fight over friends, we fight over attention. To what end? So we can be nasty and vicious and cruel to each other?
I dont' understand it. I avoid drama. I don't like fighting with people, I don't like hurting people. I am a "too caring" (in the words of a good friend) person who cares hard, loves hard, and gives it her all.
If I disagree with you, I'll tell you. That doesn't mean I hate you. It doesn't even mean I dislike you. It means I disagree with you on point x, y, or z. I won't stab you in the back or purposely hurt you or say hateful, hurtful, and nasty untrue things about you. I won't try to turn your friends on you or alienate you from your friends or people you care about.
Why would ANYONE want to purposely hurt someone so much?!??!
I don't understand why people would live any other way. But based on the behavior I've seen by a few different people - women - thus far in 2010, it seems that many will.
It's hard enough when you hurt someone inadvertently - because you acted too quickly or didn't think a situation out fully. I am devastated when I do that. But to set out to be mean and cruel and vindictive? I do not get it. And having been - or am being - the victim of it...I wouldn't wish it on anyone.
EVER.
This saddens me.
I could have used a work-out today - my emotions are making me feel a bit like a cracked - or shattered, depending on the moment - glass.
But it wasn't in the cards. G and I did play several card games, all of which except one he kicked my ass in.
"Do not iron"
WHAT? I'm sorry WHAT?????
Do people actually iron their fucking undies? Especially women? Shouldn't clothing be, I don't know, outerwear in order to merit ironing?
I don't iron. Period. I have 1 shirt that requires ironing and I have Gregg do it. Otherwise I use Downy Wrinkle Release (that stuff kicks ass). I do not have enough hours in my day, enough motivation in my body, or enough of an interesting bedroom life to IRON my underwear.
So really, Victoria's Secret, what the hell is that note for!?!?!?!
-----
On an unrelated note - today was a day of woman-to-woman drama. All over. My real life and then on an internet board that I belong to. Yeah, I'm one of those.
I don't understand why we women sometimes pit ourselves against each other. I really don't. We fight over men, we fight over friends, we fight over attention. To what end? So we can be nasty and vicious and cruel to each other?
I dont' understand it. I avoid drama. I don't like fighting with people, I don't like hurting people. I am a "too caring" (in the words of a good friend) person who cares hard, loves hard, and gives it her all.
If I disagree with you, I'll tell you. That doesn't mean I hate you. It doesn't even mean I dislike you. It means I disagree with you on point x, y, or z. I won't stab you in the back or purposely hurt you or say hateful, hurtful, and nasty untrue things about you. I won't try to turn your friends on you or alienate you from your friends or people you care about.
Why would ANYONE want to purposely hurt someone so much?!??!
I don't understand why people would live any other way. But based on the behavior I've seen by a few different people - women - thus far in 2010, it seems that many will.
It's hard enough when you hurt someone inadvertently - because you acted too quickly or didn't think a situation out fully. I am devastated when I do that. But to set out to be mean and cruel and vindictive? I do not get it. And having been - or am being - the victim of it...I wouldn't wish it on anyone.
EVER.
This saddens me.
I could have used a work-out today - my emotions are making me feel a bit like a cracked - or shattered, depending on the moment - glass.
But it wasn't in the cards. G and I did play several card games, all of which except one he kicked my ass in.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
dolls, a life crisis, and thump
My exercise for today:
- Tugged heartstrings
- Flexed brain muscles
- Pride swallowed
- Knee crushed
The last one was physically the absolute worst. I bounded into a meeting that I was running and was not 100% prepared for, sat down in the closest chair, turned around and met the table leg head-on with my knee. That made for a "fun" first 5 minutes of the meeting while I tried to put some coherent thoughts together and verbalize them while simultaneously choking back tears.
It was just one of those days. I'm just going through something I don't really want to get into right now, and some days are more of a struggle than others. Yesterday was ok - I was moderately even-keeled. Today I was cracked. I hope tomorrow evens out again. One way or the other, I am disheartened to see that at 36 I may be knee-deep in a midlife crisis.
On a happy note, I did take some deep cleansing breaths today and actually jumped in feet-first to being my own personal self-advocate in terms of my career.
---------
I'm disjointed. My other topic of conversation this evening - dolls.
Ok I have issues. Dolls scare me. A LOT. Like super scary scary.
So I recently was driving to work and I saw a car that distressed me. Said car - and I did a double-take and nearly drove off the road to confirm this - has two shoe boxes in its back window. Each contains a dolls. Fuckers scared the shit out of me. I shook my head when I saw this car and hoped I would never see it AGAIN.
Tonight I was on my way home from work, feeling sorry for myself and wondering why people don't seem to be able to give even 50% to me, and contemplating how the knife that seems to be repeatedly stuck in my back can be thrown far, far away, when I saw it. Out of the corner of my eye.
THE DOLL CAR. AGAIN.
Geez I hate dolls.
- Tugged heartstrings
- Flexed brain muscles
- Pride swallowed
- Knee crushed
The last one was physically the absolute worst. I bounded into a meeting that I was running and was not 100% prepared for, sat down in the closest chair, turned around and met the table leg head-on with my knee. That made for a "fun" first 5 minutes of the meeting while I tried to put some coherent thoughts together and verbalize them while simultaneously choking back tears.
It was just one of those days. I'm just going through something I don't really want to get into right now, and some days are more of a struggle than others. Yesterday was ok - I was moderately even-keeled. Today I was cracked. I hope tomorrow evens out again. One way or the other, I am disheartened to see that at 36 I may be knee-deep in a midlife crisis.
On a happy note, I did take some deep cleansing breaths today and actually jumped in feet-first to being my own personal self-advocate in terms of my career.
---------
I'm disjointed. My other topic of conversation this evening - dolls.
Ok I have issues. Dolls scare me. A LOT. Like super scary scary.
So I recently was driving to work and I saw a car that distressed me. Said car - and I did a double-take and nearly drove off the road to confirm this - has two shoe boxes in its back window. Each contains a dolls. Fuckers scared the shit out of me. I shook my head when I saw this car and hoped I would never see it AGAIN.
Tonight I was on my way home from work, feeling sorry for myself and wondering why people don't seem to be able to give even 50% to me, and contemplating how the knife that seems to be repeatedly stuck in my back can be thrown far, far away, when I saw it. Out of the corner of my eye.
THE DOLL CAR. AGAIN.
Geez I hate dolls.
Monday, January 11, 2010
skating wounds and poetry
I woke up at 4am greeted with the after-effects of 3 hours on ice skates yesterday. Back spasms. Really? REALLY?
I realize I'm not 16 or even 25 any longer. But I'm 36 - and I just TURNED 36. I'm not in awesome shape but I do my best to stay reasonably active and fit.
So what the hell is up with the freakin' back spasms?!?! Waking me up out of a SOUND SLEEP? Are you kidding me? It was too early to get up for work, too late to stumble out to the living room for the heating pad...and oh yes, that's right. My incredibly effective, useful Mom bladder kicked into high gear - so I had to wrestle myself from a very cozy bed to pee.
This getting older thing - it sucks.
It was overall a Monday today - nothing too earth-shattering although my IT guys gave me a major ration of shit when I went back there today. Oh wait - that's also not earth-shattering. ;-)
We had a new person start today. I gather he's going to be helping me, which is novel since I've been supporting - eh - 5 systems on my own for the last 18 -24 months. To be honest, I have no clue how to share my systems now. I am sort of OCD and work is my "thing" - the thing I'm good at in life (as opposed to motherhood - which is just hard - and interpersonal relationships - which are a struggle for a socially awkward nerd like me). So I get a little proprietary once I hit a groove on something work-related...
Needless to say, I have to get over this and share with this poor, unsuspecting guy. I am ashamed to admit that he was older than I expected. I hate to say it. I interviewed most of the candidates for this open slot - and most were between 28 and 40 or so. I happened to be on vacation when this guy was interviewed, so today was the first time I met him.
I only talked to him for an hour - but I think I made my head explode. BAD ANDREA! You're supposed to take it easy on the new guy the first day! I am SUCH a nerd, I get all over-excited about the shitastic systems I support and once I start rambling - forget it.
I put my time in at the gym - probably the only day this week due to scheduling snafus. I did 3.5 miles on the sane elliptical with arms in 32 minutes. I hate to say it, but I think I have to start running next week. ACK!
My day ended on a sweet and heart-warming - albeit it slightly manipulative - Mom moment. G was just finishing his shower when he looked at me - of course in his usual naked glory (kid sleep nude, always has and I am sure always will - he is SUPPOSED to put some sort of bottom half garment on before having a conversation with me but...he's 7...yeah right). He says "Mom, can I stay up for a few more minutes? I want to write a poem for you."
Well crap. How the hell can I say no to that?
10 minutes later - 4 of which involved him scrambling to find paper and a pencil (note - we have these in EVERY room of the house, but of course his supplies that are generally in his room are on the living room couch, downstairs - clearly where they belong since they have been there for 10 days despite my repeated requests for them to land elsewhere), he came up with the following gem...telling me "Mom, this pretty much happened to me!" YA THINK!?!?
Opening presents, opening bundles
Finding things, I did not ask.
Legos, gum, books, and more!
There's one more present...
It's a fuel cell car!
I love that kid.
I realize I'm not 16 or even 25 any longer. But I'm 36 - and I just TURNED 36. I'm not in awesome shape but I do my best to stay reasonably active and fit.
So what the hell is up with the freakin' back spasms?!?! Waking me up out of a SOUND SLEEP? Are you kidding me? It was too early to get up for work, too late to stumble out to the living room for the heating pad...and oh yes, that's right. My incredibly effective, useful Mom bladder kicked into high gear - so I had to wrestle myself from a very cozy bed to pee.
This getting older thing - it sucks.
It was overall a Monday today - nothing too earth-shattering although my IT guys gave me a major ration of shit when I went back there today. Oh wait - that's also not earth-shattering. ;-)
We had a new person start today. I gather he's going to be helping me, which is novel since I've been supporting - eh - 5 systems on my own for the last 18 -24 months. To be honest, I have no clue how to share my systems now. I am sort of OCD and work is my "thing" - the thing I'm good at in life (as opposed to motherhood - which is just hard - and interpersonal relationships - which are a struggle for a socially awkward nerd like me). So I get a little proprietary once I hit a groove on something work-related...
Needless to say, I have to get over this and share with this poor, unsuspecting guy. I am ashamed to admit that he was older than I expected. I hate to say it. I interviewed most of the candidates for this open slot - and most were between 28 and 40 or so. I happened to be on vacation when this guy was interviewed, so today was the first time I met him.
I only talked to him for an hour - but I think I made my head explode. BAD ANDREA! You're supposed to take it easy on the new guy the first day! I am SUCH a nerd, I get all over-excited about the shitastic systems I support and once I start rambling - forget it.
I put my time in at the gym - probably the only day this week due to scheduling snafus. I did 3.5 miles on the sane elliptical with arms in 32 minutes. I hate to say it, but I think I have to start running next week. ACK!
My day ended on a sweet and heart-warming - albeit it slightly manipulative - Mom moment. G was just finishing his shower when he looked at me - of course in his usual naked glory (kid sleep nude, always has and I am sure always will - he is SUPPOSED to put some sort of bottom half garment on before having a conversation with me but...he's 7...yeah right). He says "Mom, can I stay up for a few more minutes? I want to write a poem for you."
Well crap. How the hell can I say no to that?
10 minutes later - 4 of which involved him scrambling to find paper and a pencil (note - we have these in EVERY room of the house, but of course his supplies that are generally in his room are on the living room couch, downstairs - clearly where they belong since they have been there for 10 days despite my repeated requests for them to land elsewhere), he came up with the following gem...telling me "Mom, this pretty much happened to me!" YA THINK!?!?
Opening presents, opening bundles
Finding things, I did not ask.
Legos, gum, books, and more!
There's one more present...
It's a fuel cell car!
I love that kid.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
the demise of the English language
I visited with my parents briefly this afternoon. Anyone who knows my father knows that he is a hot-headed, extraordinarily opinionated, smart Italian man who occasionally has a penchant for conspiracy theories. Today he was spouting off about his theory that the Internet will, in fact, kill the English language. I hate to say it, but he could be on to something - though I would blame said death far more on texting (I have yet to adapt to seeing "u" for "you" in business emails - WTF???) than the Internet.
How we came to this conversation? Oh please, must you ask. I believe it started with a discussion about my son's current reading interests - "The Hobbit" and the CS Lewis collection - and how that teeters on the edge of "literature". (Well, if you ask Gregg, not only is The Hobbit "literature", it's the be-all, end-all. LOL) This digressed into the pros and cons of teaching high school students works like Homer's "Iliad", Chaucer's "Canterbury Tales", anything by Shakespeare, etc. We actually arrived to the same conclusion - largely useless. This is not to denegrate the importance of these works whatsoever. It's just at 16 or 17, you simply don't get it, don't see it, and frankly, don't give a shit. I was 16 going on 35 and I wanted to scream over enduring that crap (to my high school friends - really, did McSweeney have to make any effort to teach that class. Church paper? check. Canterbury Tales? check. Shakespeare for the rest of the year? check.)
This coming from a high school teacher - well retired and disgruntled but someone with 32+ years of educating the pubescent under his belt. I get it. I've got it. As he put it "I read Shakespeare again at the end of college - and laughed my ass off. 5 years after I was forced to endure it, not only did I finally LIKE it, I GOT it." True dat.
Needless to say, this somehow provided a segue for him into postulating about the demise of the English language. I should say - my parents, who are not particularly old (nearly 62 and 59), are HUGE technophobes. There is some great irony in this considering their oldest child (me) learned to program at 9 (on the TI that they made me get instead of an Atari, citing it was "more educational") and was a slightly failed CS minor in college and then spent the first nearly 9 years of her career as a developer. They hate computers and are Internet-phobic. It's actually sort of amusing.
So he thinks we are killing the English language. Like I said, he could be on to something. I see text-speak creeping into business emails. This is a relatively new work-phenomenon, and seems to be mostly by people under 26 or so, but it's somewhat aggravating.
THAT SAID - You bet your ass I use text-speak when texting (I'm lazy and generally multi-tasking) and I love me some Internet acronyms - in fact, since I enjoy dropping f-bombs whenever possible, WTF is my favorite, following closely by LMFAO.
HA HA HA HA.
G and I braved the cold today to go skating with his cousin and a whole gang of folks at my sister-in-law's (ok, future - someday - we think...) cousin's house. It was GREAT!
Check that. It was great until I stopped. 2.5 hours of skating makes you pretty sweaty. 10 minutes of resting makes you ASS COLD. OMG. I went from pleasantly cool with a light sheen of sweat to so fucking cold I thought my face was going to fall off.
At that point, I began the joyous task of extricating my child from his skating nirvana. The kid has been skating 5 times (as of today) in his life. He's not bad - not great but not bad - and FEARLESS. Today he played hockey - aside from his cousin, he was the youngest kid out there. He spent a good chunk of time sprawled on the ice "But I got the puck on my own once Mom!"
Kudos for him and his enthusiasm. To be nearly 8 again and have the world ahead of you. I am patently jealous at times.
I was also jealous when, after our fabulous "lupper" of chicken divan (UHM YUM!) prepared by my mom, he passed out about 6 minutes into our travels home. At 6pm. Again - to be nearly 8 again.
It's amazing how simultaneously young and ancient having a child can cause you to feel at times.
And now it's Sunday night - "Man Versus Food" is on in the background, Gregg is reading on his BookReader and probably plotting his bike purchase (prematurely - as usual - one of these days I really WILL change the locks when he spends some inordinate amount of money on his hair-brained and now injury-inducing ideas). G is in bed, passed out.
And I have Sunday dread.
We have a new guy starting tomorrow. Good, right? I am getting my ass handed to me on a daily basis and he's here to help. Yet I have to try to squeeze in training him AND continue to babysit our temp (who, by the way, is not a temp in the traditional sense of the work, but instead a BA with a LARGE number of years experience, whom I have known since 1996, and who should NOT REQUIRE BABYSITTING OR HAND-HOLDING!!!).
And that's not all. Did I mention it's the sales conference this week, which means our desktop support guys will be in short supply (and we only have 3 anyway!!) - which is going to lead to me covering phones because our other BAs are otherwise occupied.
OMG. I need to go give myself a mani/pedi in an effort to relax. It's either that or a cranberry martini, and the latter will make me feel like crap tomorrow. ;-)
** Side note. It's been (good grief) 19 years since I spent a large chunk of the fall of my senior year of high school memorizing the intro to "Canterbury Tales" in MIDDLE English. What a useless endeavor especially when I got stage fright and forgot the fucking thing on line 12 or so. Unfortunately, that hunk of crap still resides in my brain. Seriously? I can't remember last names of people I went to college with but I can recite that crap? UGH!!
How we came to this conversation? Oh please, must you ask. I believe it started with a discussion about my son's current reading interests - "The Hobbit" and the CS Lewis collection - and how that teeters on the edge of "literature". (Well, if you ask Gregg, not only is The Hobbit "literature", it's the be-all, end-all. LOL) This digressed into the pros and cons of teaching high school students works like Homer's "Iliad", Chaucer's "Canterbury Tales", anything by Shakespeare, etc. We actually arrived to the same conclusion - largely useless. This is not to denegrate the importance of these works whatsoever. It's just at 16 or 17, you simply don't get it, don't see it, and frankly, don't give a shit. I was 16 going on 35 and I wanted to scream over enduring that crap (to my high school friends - really, did McSweeney have to make any effort to teach that class. Church paper? check. Canterbury Tales? check. Shakespeare for the rest of the year? check.)
This coming from a high school teacher - well retired and disgruntled but someone with 32+ years of educating the pubescent under his belt. I get it. I've got it. As he put it "I read Shakespeare again at the end of college - and laughed my ass off. 5 years after I was forced to endure it, not only did I finally LIKE it, I GOT it." True dat.
Needless to say, this somehow provided a segue for him into postulating about the demise of the English language. I should say - my parents, who are not particularly old (nearly 62 and 59), are HUGE technophobes. There is some great irony in this considering their oldest child (me) learned to program at 9 (on the TI that they made me get instead of an Atari, citing it was "more educational") and was a slightly failed CS minor in college and then spent the first nearly 9 years of her career as a developer. They hate computers and are Internet-phobic. It's actually sort of amusing.
So he thinks we are killing the English language. Like I said, he could be on to something. I see text-speak creeping into business emails. This is a relatively new work-phenomenon, and seems to be mostly by people under 26 or so, but it's somewhat aggravating.
THAT SAID - You bet your ass I use text-speak when texting (I'm lazy and generally multi-tasking) and I love me some Internet acronyms - in fact, since I enjoy dropping f-bombs whenever possible, WTF is my favorite, following closely by LMFAO.
HA HA HA HA.
G and I braved the cold today to go skating with his cousin and a whole gang of folks at my sister-in-law's (ok, future - someday - we think...) cousin's house. It was GREAT!
Check that. It was great until I stopped. 2.5 hours of skating makes you pretty sweaty. 10 minutes of resting makes you ASS COLD. OMG. I went from pleasantly cool with a light sheen of sweat to so fucking cold I thought my face was going to fall off.
At that point, I began the joyous task of extricating my child from his skating nirvana. The kid has been skating 5 times (as of today) in his life. He's not bad - not great but not bad - and FEARLESS. Today he played hockey - aside from his cousin, he was the youngest kid out there. He spent a good chunk of time sprawled on the ice "But I got the puck on my own once Mom!"
Kudos for him and his enthusiasm. To be nearly 8 again and have the world ahead of you. I am patently jealous at times.
I was also jealous when, after our fabulous "lupper" of chicken divan (UHM YUM!) prepared by my mom, he passed out about 6 minutes into our travels home. At 6pm. Again - to be nearly 8 again.
It's amazing how simultaneously young and ancient having a child can cause you to feel at times.
And now it's Sunday night - "Man Versus Food" is on in the background, Gregg is reading on his BookReader and probably plotting his bike purchase (prematurely - as usual - one of these days I really WILL change the locks when he spends some inordinate amount of money on his hair-brained and now injury-inducing ideas). G is in bed, passed out.
And I have Sunday dread.
We have a new guy starting tomorrow. Good, right? I am getting my ass handed to me on a daily basis and he's here to help. Yet I have to try to squeeze in training him AND continue to babysit our temp (who, by the way, is not a temp in the traditional sense of the work, but instead a BA with a LARGE number of years experience, whom I have known since 1996, and who should NOT REQUIRE BABYSITTING OR HAND-HOLDING!!!).
And that's not all. Did I mention it's the sales conference this week, which means our desktop support guys will be in short supply (and we only have 3 anyway!!) - which is going to lead to me covering phones because our other BAs are otherwise occupied.
OMG. I need to go give myself a mani/pedi in an effort to relax. It's either that or a cranberry martini, and the latter will make me feel like crap tomorrow. ;-)
** Side note. It's been (good grief) 19 years since I spent a large chunk of the fall of my senior year of high school memorizing the intro to "Canterbury Tales" in MIDDLE English. What a useless endeavor especially when I got stage fright and forgot the fucking thing on line 12 or so. Unfortunately, that hunk of crap still resides in my brain. Seriously? I can't remember last names of people I went to college with but I can recite that crap? UGH!!
Saturday, January 9, 2010
purses and shoes
I am not much of a shopper. Don't get me wrong, I've learned over the years to be a decent clothing shopper - especially if I take my sister who can shop like nobody's business. But I don't relish shopping for clothes much. Frankly, it's a pain in the ass. I am 5'8" which means I'm too tall for regular pants and too short for talls. Plus, I am thin (not bragging, it's just true) but I have a big butt and "I had a kid" hips. And small boobs.
So yeah, that's fun.
At my size, pants are cut for girls - like pre-puberty girls. I don't want old lady Mom jeans, I don't want middle school girl jeans. I don't want to wear a size 14 so I can get them over my ass only to have an extra 4 inches of cloth around my waist.
I want 35-ish woman jeans. Not too high waisted, not so low so as to show a whale tail - just jeans. You would think this wouldn't be that difficult to find. WRONG. And shirts - no, I haven't had a boob job, I don't want a boob job, I like my barely Bs thank you very much. So if I wear a size small shirt, would you PLEASE make it long enough to cover my belly piercing? I mean, I think a pierced bellybutton is hot, but I can't show the damn thing at work.
If I knew a bit more about designing clothes, I'd make a line for kind-tall, not-quite-middle-aged thin chicks. I think there must be a call for that, no?
In any event, my point is, there are 2 exceptions to my general disdain for clothes shopping - shoes and purses. Why? Well come on now, it's obvious.
I am ALWAYS an 8.5 shoe. Common size, easy to find - and they never make me feel fat. Plus, you can have 5 different pairs of black heels and each can apply to a different occasion, outfit type, etc.
And purses - same thing. You're never too tall, too short, too poorly endowed...
Needless to say, I have been on a mission for a new purse since, to my own discredit, I left my current purse in my very hot car for several hours this summer, thereby melting the entire 2 packs of gum inside it all over the thing. Like, it melted my bluetooth into a pocket and I CANNOT get it out.
I am picky about my purses - straps, color, you name it. I also like them to be nice so I can sell them on eBay. Hey, I'm cheap, too.
Today I found a cute purse at Marshalls, but it was about $10 more than my cheap self wanted to spend. So I browsed about the rest of the store - hey, I was ALONE - and found new bedding.
*** Side note. I'd gone there for the bedding. Why? Well I recently looked at the green comforter on our bed and noticed it had a funny-looking spot on it. I assume it is Gregg's head grease. The man is the quintessential Italian stereotype, he has ruined a chair and nearly ruined our friends' recent living room paint job with the oils that his now-bald head produces. GROSS!
Anyway, the sight of that grease stain made me realize - the bedding is from our first apartment - 14 years ago! WHAT THE HELL?
Needless to say, bedding was a must-have. I found a kick-ass Tommy comforter (which took over 2 hours to DRY this afternoon, good grief) for cheap - so success!
After digging through the comforters and then the clearance boys clothing and shoe sections (Ben 10 size 3 sneaks - check - wait, how is my 7 year old a size 3 shoe?!?!?! How do I have a 7 almost 8 year old?!?!?!), I went back to the purses.
I found "the purse" again - 3 more of them in fact. But wait - one was marked on clearance, $10 off!! I scoured the thing - nothing wrong with it. So, uhm, SOLD.
But you know it's a bad sign when you get home and your kid says "Mom, how many purses are you going to list on eBay?!?!"
The answer - at least 2. 1 Vera Bradley and 1 Liz Claiborne. LOL
It's Saturday so it was an exercise day of rest for me. I'm going to get my rear handed to me tomorrow anyway. It's a skating party at sister-in-law's cousin's pond. I love skating. I just hope it isn't too cold.
Ok, well I actually managed to knit about 3/4 of an inch of sock while the boys played Wii this afternoon, so it's back to some sort of knitting for me. I am a football widow this evening (I'd say "Go BIRDS!" but frankly, I just don't care) - and writing in this blog has actually improved my mood. I have a lot of complicated crap on my mind. SIGH.
Tata for now.
So yeah, that's fun.
At my size, pants are cut for girls - like pre-puberty girls. I don't want old lady Mom jeans, I don't want middle school girl jeans. I don't want to wear a size 14 so I can get them over my ass only to have an extra 4 inches of cloth around my waist.
I want 35-ish woman jeans. Not too high waisted, not so low so as to show a whale tail - just jeans. You would think this wouldn't be that difficult to find. WRONG. And shirts - no, I haven't had a boob job, I don't want a boob job, I like my barely Bs thank you very much. So if I wear a size small shirt, would you PLEASE make it long enough to cover my belly piercing? I mean, I think a pierced bellybutton is hot, but I can't show the damn thing at work.
If I knew a bit more about designing clothes, I'd make a line for kind-tall, not-quite-middle-aged thin chicks. I think there must be a call for that, no?
In any event, my point is, there are 2 exceptions to my general disdain for clothes shopping - shoes and purses. Why? Well come on now, it's obvious.
I am ALWAYS an 8.5 shoe. Common size, easy to find - and they never make me feel fat. Plus, you can have 5 different pairs of black heels and each can apply to a different occasion, outfit type, etc.
And purses - same thing. You're never too tall, too short, too poorly endowed...
Needless to say, I have been on a mission for a new purse since, to my own discredit, I left my current purse in my very hot car for several hours this summer, thereby melting the entire 2 packs of gum inside it all over the thing. Like, it melted my bluetooth into a pocket and I CANNOT get it out.
I am picky about my purses - straps, color, you name it. I also like them to be nice so I can sell them on eBay. Hey, I'm cheap, too.
Today I found a cute purse at Marshalls, but it was about $10 more than my cheap self wanted to spend. So I browsed about the rest of the store - hey, I was ALONE - and found new bedding.
*** Side note. I'd gone there for the bedding. Why? Well I recently looked at the green comforter on our bed and noticed it had a funny-looking spot on it. I assume it is Gregg's head grease. The man is the quintessential Italian stereotype, he has ruined a chair and nearly ruined our friends' recent living room paint job with the oils that his now-bald head produces. GROSS!
Anyway, the sight of that grease stain made me realize - the bedding is from our first apartment - 14 years ago! WHAT THE HELL?
Needless to say, bedding was a must-have. I found a kick-ass Tommy comforter (which took over 2 hours to DRY this afternoon, good grief) for cheap - so success!
After digging through the comforters and then the clearance boys clothing and shoe sections (Ben 10 size 3 sneaks - check - wait, how is my 7 year old a size 3 shoe?!?!?! How do I have a 7 almost 8 year old?!?!?!), I went back to the purses.
I found "the purse" again - 3 more of them in fact. But wait - one was marked on clearance, $10 off!! I scoured the thing - nothing wrong with it. So, uhm, SOLD.
But you know it's a bad sign when you get home and your kid says "Mom, how many purses are you going to list on eBay?!?!"
The answer - at least 2. 1 Vera Bradley and 1 Liz Claiborne. LOL
It's Saturday so it was an exercise day of rest for me. I'm going to get my rear handed to me tomorrow anyway. It's a skating party at sister-in-law's cousin's pond. I love skating. I just hope it isn't too cold.
Ok, well I actually managed to knit about 3/4 of an inch of sock while the boys played Wii this afternoon, so it's back to some sort of knitting for me. I am a football widow this evening (I'd say "Go BIRDS!" but frankly, I just don't care) - and writing in this blog has actually improved my mood. I have a lot of complicated crap on my mind. SIGH.
Tata for now.
Friday, January 8, 2010
nightmares and fumblings of the nearly middle-aged
I'm not sure if this actually happens to other adults, but I occasionally have those wake up screaming type nightmares - the ones you have as a kid. Mine are one of two these days - my recurring one where I slowly go blind for no apparently reason, or something nebulous but terrifying about my child.
3am today was the time for one of the latter. I can't pinpoint exactly what happened to G in it, but it was sufficient to scare the crap out of me. I hate that - it's like your Mom adrenaline kicks into high gear while you're sleeping. This resulted in me being WIDE awake - thankfully I always have a book on my nightstand...the current on is one of the Sue Grafton series ("T for Tresspass")...needless to say, Ms. Grafton and I spent some quality time together in the wee hours of a windy, lightly snowy morning.
I had just finally drifted back to sleep when Hubby started moving around. He is an exercise addict and spends most weekday mornings getting up between 4:30 and 4:45 so he can endure some endless amount of time on the elliptical, treadmill, or beating himself with free weights. This is why he just spent the last 2.5 months mostly non-ambulatory, but no amount of injury is sufficient to knock some sense into him.
What he was doing - I do not know - because he came back to bed! 5-6am is my time to languish comfortably in our queen sized bed - ALONE. The guy is 6 feet tall but apparently his arms and legs are more like 20 feet long and, oh, there are 75 of them.
Needless to say, I was disappointed...then he popped up again. This time it was to kick the cat out of the room. Because of his ridiculous schedule, Mr Meowgi (not his real name but what we call him - part Siamese and part Maine Coon - the cat is about 50 feet long and never shuts the hell up) is accustomed to his disgustingly vile cup of wet cat food at 4:45am. This results in disturbed sleep for me:
- every Saturday and Sunday
- any day Hubby "sleeps in"
- any time Hubby is traveling
Mr. Meowgi has been known to attempt to hurl his 23 lb body against our bedroom door in an effort to obtain said food - which, by the way, is stored 2 floors down in the basement - but today he relented quickly, allowing me to drift off for another 20 minutes, until which time Hubby decided he couldn't fall back to sleep and began his morning routine.
Did I mention he walks like a herd of elephants attacking a bag of peanuts?!?!?
SIGH.
Side note/recommendation - Never have a dog and a cat at the same time if you hope to only feed the cat dry food - long after the dog has passed, you will be shell out some hideously large amount of cash for small cups of disgusting, wet, gloppy, gaggable crap for said fat cat.
With my day off to a bang, it only spiraled downhill from there. Thankfully, the powers that be in G's school district didn't let the 2/3 inch of snow deter them from opening school on time. Thank heavens - 2 delays in 1 week would push me over the edge.
I stopped for my Friday treat at Dunkin' Donuts, only to spill some of it all over my car door on my way in to work - didn't realize that until I went out to get lunch and saw it, nicely sticky and gross, all over the door. Oh boy.
My one shining moment is that I DID speak up - or at least attempt to. Appointment for said speaking up looms on Tuesday - we shall see.
My day ended with G teaching me a new card game. Riddle me this - how do kids learn to cheat at games so adeptly? Within 5 minutes of explaining the game to me and playing, he was cheating. Now - my kid will be 8 in a couple of months and mostly hangs out with kids about 2 years older (he's an ancient soul, not unlike his mother - poor kid) - so I assume the cheating is a defense mechanism against the older kids outwitting him.. HOWEVER, he's been doing this since he was 4. My child...oh wait...he comes from a long line of game-cheaters. Perhaps that explains it. And yes, anyone who knows Hubby's family knows that I speak the truth. ;-)
Kidlet is now in bed and Hubby is watching a show I don't like and don't understand but has the woman who played some character whose name escapes me in "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" in it. Ah...oh...her name is Eliza Dushku - not spelled right undoubtedly. He loves her. Hence the drooling. All I know is the show makes my brain hurt. But sense the theme?
I only exercised my brain and my heartstrings today. No body. I hope to get ice skating on Sunday - the ice is borderline but it's COLD tonight and isn't supposed to get above freezing tomorrow. Cross your fingers for me - I am missing ice time - love it!!!
I am off to attempt to either put down an inch of sock or finish my friend Rachel's scarf. We'll see. Hoping for some good knitting this weekend - with that bitter cold, seems appropriate.
3am today was the time for one of the latter. I can't pinpoint exactly what happened to G in it, but it was sufficient to scare the crap out of me. I hate that - it's like your Mom adrenaline kicks into high gear while you're sleeping. This resulted in me being WIDE awake - thankfully I always have a book on my nightstand...the current on is one of the Sue Grafton series ("T for Tresspass")...needless to say, Ms. Grafton and I spent some quality time together in the wee hours of a windy, lightly snowy morning.
I had just finally drifted back to sleep when Hubby started moving around. He is an exercise addict and spends most weekday mornings getting up between 4:30 and 4:45 so he can endure some endless amount of time on the elliptical, treadmill, or beating himself with free weights. This is why he just spent the last 2.5 months mostly non-ambulatory, but no amount of injury is sufficient to knock some sense into him.
What he was doing - I do not know - because he came back to bed! 5-6am is my time to languish comfortably in our queen sized bed - ALONE. The guy is 6 feet tall but apparently his arms and legs are more like 20 feet long and, oh, there are 75 of them.
Needless to say, I was disappointed...then he popped up again. This time it was to kick the cat out of the room. Because of his ridiculous schedule, Mr Meowgi (not his real name but what we call him - part Siamese and part Maine Coon - the cat is about 50 feet long and never shuts the hell up) is accustomed to his disgustingly vile cup of wet cat food at 4:45am. This results in disturbed sleep for me:
- every Saturday and Sunday
- any day Hubby "sleeps in"
- any time Hubby is traveling
Mr. Meowgi has been known to attempt to hurl his 23 lb body against our bedroom door in an effort to obtain said food - which, by the way, is stored 2 floors down in the basement - but today he relented quickly, allowing me to drift off for another 20 minutes, until which time Hubby decided he couldn't fall back to sleep and began his morning routine.
Did I mention he walks like a herd of elephants attacking a bag of peanuts?!?!?
SIGH.
Side note/recommendation - Never have a dog and a cat at the same time if you hope to only feed the cat dry food - long after the dog has passed, you will be shell out some hideously large amount of cash for small cups of disgusting, wet, gloppy, gaggable crap for said fat cat.
With my day off to a bang, it only spiraled downhill from there. Thankfully, the powers that be in G's school district didn't let the 2/3 inch of snow deter them from opening school on time. Thank heavens - 2 delays in 1 week would push me over the edge.
I stopped for my Friday treat at Dunkin' Donuts, only to spill some of it all over my car door on my way in to work - didn't realize that until I went out to get lunch and saw it, nicely sticky and gross, all over the door. Oh boy.
My one shining moment is that I DID speak up - or at least attempt to. Appointment for said speaking up looms on Tuesday - we shall see.
My day ended with G teaching me a new card game. Riddle me this - how do kids learn to cheat at games so adeptly? Within 5 minutes of explaining the game to me and playing, he was cheating. Now - my kid will be 8 in a couple of months and mostly hangs out with kids about 2 years older (he's an ancient soul, not unlike his mother - poor kid) - so I assume the cheating is a defense mechanism against the older kids outwitting him.. HOWEVER, he's been doing this since he was 4. My child...oh wait...he comes from a long line of game-cheaters. Perhaps that explains it. And yes, anyone who knows Hubby's family knows that I speak the truth. ;-)
Kidlet is now in bed and Hubby is watching a show I don't like and don't understand but has the woman who played some character whose name escapes me in "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" in it. Ah...oh...her name is Eliza Dushku - not spelled right undoubtedly. He loves her. Hence the drooling. All I know is the show makes my brain hurt. But sense the theme?
I only exercised my brain and my heartstrings today. No body. I hope to get ice skating on Sunday - the ice is borderline but it's COLD tonight and isn't supposed to get above freezing tomorrow. Cross your fingers for me - I am missing ice time - love it!!!
I am off to attempt to either put down an inch of sock or finish my friend Rachel's scarf. We'll see. Hoping for some good knitting this weekend - with that bitter cold, seems appropriate.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
some days just...
...stink.
Today was not a great day. I was hoping it would be an improvement over yesterday, but it was worse.
HOWEVER - One of the things I vowed I'd start doing - not a New Year's resolution per se because I think those are too easy to break - this year is take charge.
So I'm going to. One big point of frustration today was work. There are changes coming. We don't know exactly what they are, but we know they are on their way. I have been waiting patiently for some sort of upward movement since it was promised to me last February. It hasn't happened. No more waiting. It's time to start asking questions and - as hard as it is for me - and it's DIFFICULT - advocate for myself.
I am making an appointment to do that right now.
I have a lot of other crap going on in my life right now that I can't control. At all. I just have to take that day by day and see what happens. It's agonizing for a control freak.
But this - I have some way to at least try to steer my own boat. I can't let it just drift or it will crash.
No exercising today. Hubby has both his dodgeball league game (won) and basketball league game (playing in about 1/2 hr) tonight.
I had G - I don't typically pick him up. That's always a nice change of pace. He had a good day at school AND his aftercare director made it a point to tell me he's had a great week (HOORAY). I am proud of him - that's not easy for him! We had good conversations about some bullying that's happening at school - only my child would take on a gang of 6 kids, what is he thinking?? We hung out, ate some supper, and homework.
Ok - G is a smart kid (yes I am a proud Mom!). He gets harder spelling words most weeks. Two of his words this week - "trough" and "photographed". WOW! Those are hard for adults let alone a second-grader.
The evening was ok - hubby's 45 min stop-in didn't go all that well but you know, my mood didn't help things.
Oh well, tomorrow is Friday. Another of my goals - really DO try to take things day-by-day. So my effort for tomorrow will to be to try not to relive today, and make it a better day.
We'll see. The scarf I am knitting awaits for now.
Today was not a great day. I was hoping it would be an improvement over yesterday, but it was worse.
HOWEVER - One of the things I vowed I'd start doing - not a New Year's resolution per se because I think those are too easy to break - this year is take charge.
So I'm going to. One big point of frustration today was work. There are changes coming. We don't know exactly what they are, but we know they are on their way. I have been waiting patiently for some sort of upward movement since it was promised to me last February. It hasn't happened. No more waiting. It's time to start asking questions and - as hard as it is for me - and it's DIFFICULT - advocate for myself.
I am making an appointment to do that right now.
I have a lot of other crap going on in my life right now that I can't control. At all. I just have to take that day by day and see what happens. It's agonizing for a control freak.
But this - I have some way to at least try to steer my own boat. I can't let it just drift or it will crash.
No exercising today. Hubby has both his dodgeball league game (won) and basketball league game (playing in about 1/2 hr) tonight.
I had G - I don't typically pick him up. That's always a nice change of pace. He had a good day at school AND his aftercare director made it a point to tell me he's had a great week (HOORAY). I am proud of him - that's not easy for him! We had good conversations about some bullying that's happening at school - only my child would take on a gang of 6 kids, what is he thinking?? We hung out, ate some supper, and homework.
Ok - G is a smart kid (yes I am a proud Mom!). He gets harder spelling words most weeks. Two of his words this week - "trough" and "photographed". WOW! Those are hard for adults let alone a second-grader.
The evening was ok - hubby's 45 min stop-in didn't go all that well but you know, my mood didn't help things.
Oh well, tomorrow is Friday. Another of my goals - really DO try to take things day-by-day. So my effort for tomorrow will to be to try not to relive today, and make it a better day.
We'll see. The scarf I am knitting awaits for now.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
hyperventilation
Ever have one of those days when the chaos or frustration or anxiety or whatever makes you feel like you need to breathe into a paper bag? Or get strong meds?
That's me today.
It started off with a bang and I haven't wound down yet. I found out late yesterday that we had a big meeting at 8am today for project from hell. This is an enormous new system implementation we're working on - in phases. We're in the first, abysmal phase right now - slated to go live January 25th. Yeah. Uhm. NOT.
That's what the meeting was about - why that date is unrealistic and how on earth we're going to come up with a new one - that IS NOT the IT's proposal of 2/8.
It was chaos. It's funny. My team consists of a few people who are very outspoken, and a few people who are not. Shockingly - I fall into the former category. I am not in any way confident in my personal life (UNDERSTATEMENT) but I have managed to become confident in my career - which means I do my best to call a spade a spade without being a raving bitch, but without pussyfooting it either.
I had to do just that today. It got me all fired up and jittery.
** Side note. I ordinarily get to work between 8 and 8:10. My child, who was a natural early riser as an infant/toddler/preschooler, and still is on days that begin with S, loves to sleep on school days. I got into the habit of that being ok for the last 2 years because his before care didn't open until 7:30. This new one this year - 7. But we're still on the old schedule. Needless to say...G got major praise from me this morning for pleasantly, and without any major chaos or drama, getting his cute little (not so little!) self out of bed at 6:30 this morning. He may drive me batty, especially since he is a shrunken version of his father, but the kid has a heart of gold. I told him last night today had to be earlier due to a meeting I had - and when he woke up he said "I'll help you get to your meeting, Mom!" It almost makes up for his sneering at me tonight when I told him that getting undressed in the living room and dumping his karate clothes on the floor did not meet my expectation of the request to "get changed out of your karate clothes, put them away, and go up and take a shower". The kid can blow through 60 page of The Hobbit in an hour and knows his multiplication tables to 6 and learned division on his Chrismas break - I know he can follow 3 step instructions.
I then immediately went from that to another meeting with a DIFFERENT IT area about yet another thing they want us to just do. This would be great if it made any sense - but it does not so...I came out of that meeting and wrote up a recommendation as to why we should do it (luckily my boss agrees). Oh fun.
I then spent the bulk of the day navigating my way through the 230 unread emails I have somehow managed to accumulate since my November 2009 vacation and deal with all sorts of friend-related issues. How my life has gotten so twisted upside down is beyond me - but you wil likely note that as a recurrent theme here if you continue to read. I get myself into the oddest predicaments...being a good nice girl - not all it's cracked up to be.
Sticking true to my goals, I was off to the gym at 5.
I did INDEED land my very sore and feeling very old body on a much more acceptable elliptical today - this is the one with the arm workout that doesn't feel like some sort of form of ancient torture. HURRAY!! I was able to crank out 3.5 miles in 32 minutes. It was then that I realized how wound up I had gotten from the drama and chaos that was my day. When I got on the machine, my hands were shaking. SHAKING.
I'm sure it was partly that I was riled and partly that I have cut out - successfully for now -my daily chocolate fix from the vending machine (read: sugar crash). It was the shaking out of sheer chaos that had me slightly concerned.
My 32 minute journey on the elliptical resulted in only a small amount of people-watching - nothing too earth-shattering today although I did see those quasi-pubescent boys again. Odd. Oh and I love watching the one trainer there who has every.single.one of his clients learn the weird gymnastics moves he tends to favor. One is good for abs, though, so I've stolen it. SCORE! Didn't even have to pay for the private training.
I accomplished the major feat of hitting the 1 inch mark on sock #1 last night. YAY! This means the cuff is done! Only 3 days. It's a miracle. Now it's about 7 inches of knit until I tackle the heel. By my rough calculations...we're looking at the end of January. That's when I'll START the heel. And only if I keep up this pace. That's some slow-going.
Ok, so I'm adding some pics of recent projects - thought that might be fun! Let me know what you think.
The first one is a mantel scarf - my living room is blue and a sort of beach theme (lighthouses really). I need to put a back on it and then I am going to machine quilt it (I think).
Second one is a set of hats I just made this past week for the girls who live next door.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
foot cramps and difficulties
It was brought to my attention today - not for the first time, of course - that I am a "challenge". Apparently I am moody (pshaw!) and emotional (no way!). Hmph. I'm going to attempt to let this comment slide in light of the fact that it's the end of the day and frankly, it's probably at least somewhat true.
So I made my way back to the gym today - because yesterday's workout was so fabulous - and because Gregg says using and elliptical without arms isn't "really that good of a workout"...I opted for a different machine today - one that works out my skinny stringbean arms.
--- Side note. Is Gregg not the guy who just spent the better part of a month on crutches, a cane, or otherwise hobbled due to overexercise? Note to self - he may not be the best person from whom to take advice.
Back to things. I rode this machine - and it sucked the life out of me. I forgot, as it's been a *while* since I visited the gym on a regular basis, that there are 2 different types of ellipticals there with arm workouts. One is agonizing and the other is manageable. The one I selected falls into the agonizing category. Seriously. I can normally pull off a good 2.5 - 3.5 miles in 30 min - or maybe more like 1.95 or some such nonsense on this thing.
It's now in the vault - do not choose that machine again.
While I'm on the subject of the gym - I encountered something peculiar today. Something you should know before I dive in - I am a people-watcher. A quiet one. But I love it. So today I observed a group of very young boys - I'm guessing between 12 and 14, I suck at figuring out the ages of slightly pubescent boys - work out with a trainer. Hmm? Now, my gym is next to a HUGE indoor soccer facility - so obviously all the soccer-playing boys (and girls - gotta love the liberation in the current generation of kids - lucky) in that general vicinity work out there.
So what the hell were these boys so young that they had to get picked up afterwards doing with a trainer? I worked out with a trainer when I was in high school - AT school.
This puzzled me but was quite frankly a welcome distraction to the hell that was that horrible machine.
Now I'm sitting here listening to Music Choice - Adult Alternative again - with my foot cramping. Foot cramps are a little slice of torture. No one tells you when they give you glowing reviews of how wonderful it is to be pregnant (lies) that one of the fabulous side effects are cramps - in your feet, your calves, who the hell knows where else.
My carryover from my long-ago pregnancy (in addition to my "Mom bladder" and the "extra skin" G likes to point out) - a propensity for foot cramps, particularly if I don't drink excessively large quantities of water. Riddle me this - I average 4-6 meetings a DAY. I'd love to drink a lot of water but people frown upon my rushed exits in the midst of their babbling about some system that isn't working because we cheaped out and paid bare minimum for is back in 2003.
Oh well, usually guzzling some water (check) and walking around on the oddly shaped foot (check) does the trick.
That's my 2 cents for the day. Oh wait - while we're on the people-watching subject...this isn't a watching so much as a listening. There is a woman I work with, not in my location, who talks faster than I do. I didn't think this was possible but I literally was on the phone with her for 12 minutes yesterday and I don't think she breathed. I need that trick - it sure would help to be able to hold my breath for 12 minutes when I am on the cursed elliptical - it will prevent some of the huffing and puffing at least.
Well, my toothpick-sized knitting needles await me. My neighbor at work mentioned she's knitting socks, too. She's going the 4 double point needle route. I tried that. I have an AB (no, not a BA - not from Dartmouth!) and an MA in math and I swear it's too confusing to use 4 needles! I use the Magic Loop technique - we'll see how that goes when I get to the heel which, given how long it's taken me to knit 3/4 of a inch, may be around April 15th or so - tax time!
All right, my insane self and I sign off for now.
Thanks to my followers! I feel so cool! Love you all!! xxx
So I made my way back to the gym today - because yesterday's workout was so fabulous - and because Gregg says using and elliptical without arms isn't "really that good of a workout"...I opted for a different machine today - one that works out my skinny stringbean arms.
--- Side note. Is Gregg not the guy who just spent the better part of a month on crutches, a cane, or otherwise hobbled due to overexercise? Note to self - he may not be the best person from whom to take advice.
Back to things. I rode this machine - and it sucked the life out of me. I forgot, as it's been a *while* since I visited the gym on a regular basis, that there are 2 different types of ellipticals there with arm workouts. One is agonizing and the other is manageable. The one I selected falls into the agonizing category. Seriously. I can normally pull off a good 2.5 - 3.5 miles in 30 min - or maybe more like 1.95 or some such nonsense on this thing.
It's now in the vault - do not choose that machine again.
While I'm on the subject of the gym - I encountered something peculiar today. Something you should know before I dive in - I am a people-watcher. A quiet one. But I love it. So today I observed a group of very young boys - I'm guessing between 12 and 14, I suck at figuring out the ages of slightly pubescent boys - work out with a trainer. Hmm? Now, my gym is next to a HUGE indoor soccer facility - so obviously all the soccer-playing boys (and girls - gotta love the liberation in the current generation of kids - lucky) in that general vicinity work out there.
So what the hell were these boys so young that they had to get picked up afterwards doing with a trainer? I worked out with a trainer when I was in high school - AT school.
This puzzled me but was quite frankly a welcome distraction to the hell that was that horrible machine.
Now I'm sitting here listening to Music Choice - Adult Alternative again - with my foot cramping. Foot cramps are a little slice of torture. No one tells you when they give you glowing reviews of how wonderful it is to be pregnant (lies) that one of the fabulous side effects are cramps - in your feet, your calves, who the hell knows where else.
My carryover from my long-ago pregnancy (in addition to my "Mom bladder" and the "extra skin" G likes to point out) - a propensity for foot cramps, particularly if I don't drink excessively large quantities of water. Riddle me this - I average 4-6 meetings a DAY. I'd love to drink a lot of water but people frown upon my rushed exits in the midst of their babbling about some system that isn't working because we cheaped out and paid bare minimum for is back in 2003.
Oh well, usually guzzling some water (check) and walking around on the oddly shaped foot (check) does the trick.
That's my 2 cents for the day. Oh wait - while we're on the people-watching subject...this isn't a watching so much as a listening. There is a woman I work with, not in my location, who talks faster than I do. I didn't think this was possible but I literally was on the phone with her for 12 minutes yesterday and I don't think she breathed. I need that trick - it sure would help to be able to hold my breath for 12 minutes when I am on the cursed elliptical - it will prevent some of the huffing and puffing at least.
Well, my toothpick-sized knitting needles await me. My neighbor at work mentioned she's knitting socks, too. She's going the 4 double point needle route. I tried that. I have an AB (no, not a BA - not from Dartmouth!) and an MA in math and I swear it's too confusing to use 4 needles! I use the Magic Loop technique - we'll see how that goes when I get to the heel which, given how long it's taken me to knit 3/4 of a inch, may be around April 15th or so - tax time!
All right, my insane self and I sign off for now.
Thanks to my followers! I feel so cool! Love you all!! xxx
Monday, January 4, 2010
1-4-2010
It looks pretty darn weird to see "2010" in the date. I was telling Gregg and Giani the other day that I distinctly remember (hello math nerd) calculating how old I'd be in 2000 when I was in elementary school - 27 seemed old ("It is MOM" was the lovely retort from my 7.5 year old)...and here I am 10 years later, just having turned 36 and wondering how on earth that happened.
So I took my recently 36 year old body to the gym today, where I promptly got my newly instituted discount for being an AXA employee. How nice that we now get a real discount instead of the piddly $5 off we got before. That gym isn't cheap, but it's across the street from work thereby often preventing the "well I'm almost home...I'll go tomorrow" excuses I could readily conjure up.
This old body spent 35 minutes and just about 3 miles on the ellipitical. I'm not ready for the treadmill yet - hoping for by the end of the month, although I am already looking at a near week of not being able to goal to the gym next week thanks to Gregg's business trip - ah well. For now, I am happy that I did what I did today. It hurt like heck - ugh! - but I think I pushed myself a bit harder than I should have.
Tonight I am enduring Gregg watching yet another set of old "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" episodes, thereby reliving our glory days of being young, single, and child-free...
So instead of rotting my brain with that overly verbose teen and vampire angst-ridden show, I am working on my big knitting GOAL project of 2010 - a sock.
Here's my thing with socks - which I tried a couple of months ago.
The needles are like toothpicks. I'm not kidding. They are SO small.
But I am proud to report that I now have about 3/4 of an inch of cuff done. Hey, it's key to have goals, isn't it?
I can't just have one project, so I am also making a quick scarf for my friend Rachel - opposite extreme in terms of needles there.
Oh yeah, and this weekend, I banged out the top to a mantel scarf. I think that will be my first journey into machine quilting, which could be interesting with my now-10-years old bottom of the line sewing machine. LOL.
It's been a long and taxing day - nothing in life is simple and of course the return to school for Giani was met with a 2 hour snow delay, which meant my day at work started the very second I walked in the door...
...so I am off to my sock...wish me luck!
So I took my recently 36 year old body to the gym today, where I promptly got my newly instituted discount for being an AXA employee. How nice that we now get a real discount instead of the piddly $5 off we got before. That gym isn't cheap, but it's across the street from work thereby often preventing the "well I'm almost home...I'll go tomorrow" excuses I could readily conjure up.
This old body spent 35 minutes and just about 3 miles on the ellipitical. I'm not ready for the treadmill yet - hoping for by the end of the month, although I am already looking at a near week of not being able to goal to the gym next week thanks to Gregg's business trip - ah well. For now, I am happy that I did what I did today. It hurt like heck - ugh! - but I think I pushed myself a bit harder than I should have.
Tonight I am enduring Gregg watching yet another set of old "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" episodes, thereby reliving our glory days of being young, single, and child-free...
So instead of rotting my brain with that overly verbose teen and vampire angst-ridden show, I am working on my big knitting GOAL project of 2010 - a sock.
Here's my thing with socks - which I tried a couple of months ago.
The needles are like toothpicks. I'm not kidding. They are SO small.
But I am proud to report that I now have about 3/4 of an inch of cuff done. Hey, it's key to have goals, isn't it?
I can't just have one project, so I am also making a quick scarf for my friend Rachel - opposite extreme in terms of needles there.
Oh yeah, and this weekend, I banged out the top to a mantel scarf. I think that will be my first journey into machine quilting, which could be interesting with my now-10-years old bottom of the line sewing machine. LOL.
It's been a long and taxing day - nothing in life is simple and of course the return to school for Giani was met with a 2 hour snow delay, which meant my day at work started the very second I walked in the door...
...so I am off to my sock...wish me luck!
my latest foray into blogging
So I've had a blog before - in fact, I still have one - but really, it's more of a glorified journal. This one is going to be slightly more readily available to people who know me. At least for now.
The goal of this blog at the moment is 3 fold - at least.
First, it's to keep me honest about this crazy journey I've been on - on and off- for the last 20+ years - running. Yes, I hate running. And I love it. And the people who know me best know this about me and have been prompting me and prodding me and, in some instances (Gregg) teasing me into getting back into it more consistently. Whether or not I will entirely remains to be seen but at the very least, I'd like to put in print what I DO do in that regard.
Second, it's to keep track of my thread projects - most notably knitting and quilting. I make a lot of things for other people and, while I try to remember to always snap a picture, I'm not always so good at recording getting there. So there ya go - here it is.
Third, it's just a place for me to be - to be me. This whole nearly middle age thing is a good way to get a life crisis...amazing what sort of clarity and understanding age and maturity can bring. Sometimes there's a lot of crap running through my head. Oh who am I kidding - sometimes? All the time. But sometimes I need to write it down to sort it out, whether it be about my kid, friendships, relationships, etc.
So let's get this party started. ;-)
The goal of this blog at the moment is 3 fold - at least.
First, it's to keep me honest about this crazy journey I've been on - on and off- for the last 20+ years - running. Yes, I hate running. And I love it. And the people who know me best know this about me and have been prompting me and prodding me and, in some instances (Gregg) teasing me into getting back into it more consistently. Whether or not I will entirely remains to be seen but at the very least, I'd like to put in print what I DO do in that regard.
Second, it's to keep track of my thread projects - most notably knitting and quilting. I make a lot of things for other people and, while I try to remember to always snap a picture, I'm not always so good at recording getting there. So there ya go - here it is.
Third, it's just a place for me to be - to be me. This whole nearly middle age thing is a good way to get a life crisis...amazing what sort of clarity and understanding age and maturity can bring. Sometimes there's a lot of crap running through my head. Oh who am I kidding - sometimes? All the time. But sometimes I need to write it down to sort it out, whether it be about my kid, friendships, relationships, etc.
So let's get this party started. ;-)
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