Happy New Year

Woo Hoo! Happy New Year!

I am so excited to see another year, but I have to admit that I miss Husband and our babies. They are away visiting. I had to stay behind because I could not get off work. I am going to pull through, though because I'm tough. I am, however, apparently lame.

I did not get a single NYE invite, so I am at home alone in my pajamas watching HGTV waiting for Husband to ring me on FaceTime me. I also found myself watching Despicable Me, which was really cute to see without having to stop for someone to go to the bathroom or clean up a drink spill. My only invitation was from my mother and while I will admit that I may be lame, even I am not that lame. Somehow staying home seems cooler than kissing your mom at midnight.

I am approaching this new year a little differently. I do not normally make resolutions, but this year I have made up my mind to do some things differently. I am going to be more fiscally responsible. It is going to hurt, but I am determined to live on a budget and get my bills under control. I have already started, but I am going to build on my small changes to make my money work for me for a change. Lastly, I am going to drop the last of the baby weight this year. I have the means. I just have to figure out a way to maintain the motivation and find the time.

It is scary for me to type this and know that I have to be accountable, but it is like I tell my clients, "nothing is impossible; you haven't figured out a way yet." I truly believe that. So, bare with me as I figure out my way to make it happen for me.

Hope you figure out how to get what you want from this year!

Holiday Jealousy

I have heard it said that the holidays bring out the best and the worst in people. The same is apparently true for weddings and funerals. I can attest to the wedding situation, having lost a friend to bitterness and a total lack of support for my "big" day (everything about it was a problem/inconvenience for her). Th funeral one does not really bother me because I'll be dead and since my plan is to go to heaven, I should be to distracted to notice the grudge someone may be holding about my dying before returning their hand mixer.

It is sad to think that the holidays are so hard for some people. I love the holidays. I love decorating and buying gifts and being with family and friends. I love the way my kids get so  excited that they open gifts that don't even belong to them. I only have one pet peeve and it is a recently developed one. It is an issue that caught me off guard and one that I feel that I should probably be ashamed to say out loud, but shame has never stopped me before, so here it is.

I am jealous of Santa. I do all the work and he gets all the credit. I am the one that went to the store and stayed up past my bedtime to wrap presents. I did not even get credit for decorating the tree. My son thinks that elves came and did it while he was sleeping so that Santa would know where to leave the presents. He did let me know that elves can fly because that is how they got the star on the top of the tree. It just seems cruel to shout out "Elves my foot! I put up that tree and made Daddy help me decorate."

It is just not fair. He is going to thank some fat guy at the mall with a beard for my present. I know that Christmas is not about getting recognition. Don't even roll your eyes at me like that. I just have to be honest that it burns my biscuits a little. You are probably thinking, "Well, why did you teach him about Santa?" Well, Smarty, I didn't. He learned about it at that fancy Christian school he goes to. I thought they were going to teach him about Jesus and the gifts of the three wise men and do you know what I get? "Mommy, who is Santa?" (That was last year.) This year he knows. His friends talk about him and if his friends say it then it must be true. I can't explain that little Shay Shay's mom is a liar. Trust me. It would not end well.

So here I am desperately wanting a thank you and instead sending my hard fought kudos to the North Pole. Boo, Santa! Yay Mommy!

Joyful and Triumphant

I have learned a lot this year. I changed jobs and found that I traded one kind of crazy for another. I wonder if that is a middle management requirement because that could make me reconsider advancing in my field. It is kind of like becoming a parent. You spent your whole childhood saying you would never be like your parents or say what they say and the first thing out of your mouth is something like "because I said so" or "while you live under my roof, you live by my rules". It is kind of crazy how fast it turns on and I really don't want that to happen to me at work the way it has happened to me at home.

I have also learned that crazy and stupid are not the same thing. My boss has admitted that she may be crazy, but not stupid and I believe her because from the moment I talked about and applied for a department transfer she has started to come up with opportunities she had previously reported to me as not being possible. I can now work days instead of nights and with the population I love.

In the spirit of not being stupid, I would like to thank God because I know that this did not happen because of something I did. He has totally made a way out of no way. He made my census low right as the other census rose and gave me the courage to make myself available when it is usually my nature to quit while I feel like I am ahead.

After this, I may never have to miss my son in a school play again. That feeling is the greatest gift in the world to me right now. It is finally starting to feel like Christmas and I am feeling both joyful and triumphant.

Happy Divorce

I have two friends on the the divorce spectrum. Jigga is finalizing hers and Chyna is in dire need of one, but doing everything in her power to ignore the big white elephant in the room. She has instead chosen to live like she is divorced without the paperwork or separate apartment. It is kind of like when people say they don't need a "piece of paper to be married", but for divorce. I guess if I can be okay with JJ Santana "shacking" with her man then I could be okay with what Chyna is doing, but for some reason it just feels crazy to me. I think it is because what they have going on is just messy and I hate when things are messy.

I also have a friend who is probably in need of a divorce, but will never get one. I say that with a confidence that I reserve for absolutes like the existence of God. Their relationship is totally toxic, but the only person that seems to be a problem for is me. They are that couple that you stare at because you are just waiting for the train to go off the track in a glorious reck.  They are the couple that you are always expecting to break up. Every time she calls you after 10 pm you assume/hope beyond hope that it is to pull a Taylor Swift and tell you that they are "never EVER ever getting back together", but then one night she calls and screams into the phone that they are engaged. YAY!?@&!? You try to be happy, but you cannot imagine a scenario where they are a good match for each other.

In this case, my friend married a jerk with a drinking problem. I want to say that I have nothing against those who struggle with addiction. My only hope as a therapist is that they seek treatment and get the help that they need. The problem is that she married a jerk with a drinking problem. I sincerely think that she believed that his drinking is what made him a selfish mean jerk, but he is all those things sober. Now what is the excuse? Nothing, but she won't leave because she has invested so much time in this project and become so codependent that she just cannot bring herself to walk away. Let's be honest; starting over is much easier said than done.

This leaves me unsure of what to hope for. I have decided to go for him becoming a better person. I love a long shot. I just listen and pretend like this relationship does not make my face hurt. I also plan to celebrate Jigga getting her freedom papers and to sit and listen and be there for Chyna because when he bubble bursts it is going to be a mess and she is going to need someone to listen while she tries to clean it up.

Maybe "shacking" isn't so bad after all. Just joking, Jesus!

So Wierd

My daughter looks so much like me sometimes that it totally freaks me out. It is like one of my baby pictures was brought to life and is wreaking havoc all over my house. She smiles like me and has a lot of my mannerisms. She definitely has my attitude.

Last week I came out of the bathroom and found her with her hand in the lotion wiping it all over her face, neck and down her shirt. She told me she looked "Pitty"- her word for pretty. I am a goid parent, so before I cleaned her up I taped it. Then this morning she runs into the bathroom screaming and laughing for no reason and says, "I got it". She then turned and ran away. The scene looked like it was taken from a picture my mother has of me running through the house. All I could do was laugh.

All this just leads me to want to call my mother and apologize because apparently I was quite the handful.

Trying

I am about to eat a Lean Cuisine for breakfast. That is right. I am about to eat an enchilada at 8 AM. To make matters worse, my daughter who I gave a real breakfast is asking for some. I don't mind sharing with her usually, but I feel like this is a bad idea and I should not get her involved in my foolishness quite so early in life.

It may not sound like it but I am trying to do better. I have made up my mind to work the best way I know how and to polish my résumé at the same time. I cannot continue to drive for an hour to feel unappreciated. I am pretty sure I can be treated badly closer to my house. As I fought back tears yesterday after my boss made another unfair cutting remark, I did what any mature women in my situation would do. I called my Mommy. She talked me off the ledge as usual and then proceeded to give me the much needed advice that I did not want to hear. I need to work just as hard to find a job as I do at my job.

Then she moved on to asking me about vacation time and going with my family for at least the weekend before New Years. They are going because my work schedule is crazy and I can't seem to ever get time off. I won't even get into how I feel about that. She wants to get me a plane ticket for a Christmas gift, but I am not sure what days I have off. At this point I am not sure if going would be helpful. The last thing I want to add to my exhaustion and frazzled nerves is jet lag. I can't see how that would make things better. Plus, Husband has a really nice family that likes to see him and in my attention starved state I will probably end up angry and jealous and irrational- not exactly a relationship boost. Maybe I should just stay home and clean my house like I planned.

I feel like I want to do better and do the right thing, eat the right thing and all those things, but I don't know where to start. Thank God for prayer and this Lean Cuisine because that is where I am coming from.

At least I'm trying.

Tough Times

You know a girl is missing her soaps when she begins to examine the love lives of the characters in her children's cartoons. The other day I caught myself wondering why Handy Manny and Kelly have so many awkward silences and if they ever went out, ever were going to go out or if this might be the moment when they finally kiss. I realized what I was doing, decided to hang my head in shame and went back to folding laundry. Life just is not the same without Erica Kane.

I have been thinking a lot about drama in life. I really like to watch drama on tv, but I am not that into it in real life. For example, I have a friend who recently went on vacation with a guy I consider to be her boyfriend. The problem is that her kids were ar home with the guy legally considered her husband. Drama? Exactly! I have friends who are still looking for love (at least that is what they say they are looking for) in all the wrong places. I have to say that romantically I am in a good place, but I realize that I have my own drama to sort out.

I have money problems, for real. I have no idea how to handle money. I was smart enough to marry someone who is great at it, but what if he dies? (I don't worry about him leaving because I would have to kill him and then the state would take care of both my money and my children.) The thought of taking care of my finances alone frightens me enough to reconsider my stance on remarriage. Maybe I could get lucky twice, but I doubt it. I would probably end up with some awful swindler kind of guy. You know the type; they can smell weakness and desperation. No! I need to figure this out for myself.

I was standing in my room yesterday, when I heard from God and for once I was really listening. He is not going to bless me until I start living within my means and paying of my debts- not my mother, not my husband, but me. I thought to myself, "Aww...Crap!" I am not ready for that. I don't make enough. I don't know where to start and all other kinds of things, but His message was clear and consistent. (It is so frustrating how right God is ALL the time.)

It is going to be a tough time for me, but I am going to have to do the thing that scares me the most...BUDGET! Pray for me, for real!

Delete

I was trying to decide who to call the other day and as I scanned through my phone book I realized that I am a number hoarder. I have numbers to people I have no intention of calling and numbers for people that I have long since lost touch with and can only assume have changed their number since we last spoke.  I thought about deleting them, but it was so hard to push that button. It felt so permanent. I got rid of some obvious ones like the old parking pass code and email address from my old job, but when it came down to it, I just could not erase those numbers.

Does that make me crazy? I guess seeing those numbers still make me feel connected, like they will some day call me and I will see that name light up on my screen and it will be just like old times. Maybe it is because those people remind me of the person I used to be before the husband and the children. I don't want to forget that girl. I have learned a lot from her.

So the numbers are still there even if the times and friends have changed. I think that's will be able to hit delete one day. I have been thinking about it a lot lately, but that day is not today.

Finding My Place

I have always had a plan in life and I have done a pretty good job of sticking to it. I have had a plan from the moment someone asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I will admit to having tweaked this plan over the years as my style and tastes changed and has my strengths and weaknesses showed themselves. It did not require much tweaking because even in the 1st grade I knew I did not like Math and that I should probably go into a field that involved talking.

I had a plan for going to high school, college and grad school. I did all of those things and for the most part in my expected time line. (I went to grad school twice because I did not like the first one and that put me behind schedule.) I got married at the age I wanted and to the type of guy I wanted. I had kids at the age I wanted and the way I always anticipated - boy, girl. I theory I would have had two more, but that is one of those tweaks. After you have kids you realize you only want half as many as you originally planned. It even extends to may married life because every year Husband and I come up with a plan on our anniversary about what we want to work on and towards each year.

My problem now is that I don't have any real plan. Husband and I have been so caught up in other stuff that we did not come up with one and I have been so distracted that I have not come up with one for myself. That is why I am floating around and acting crazy. I have no direction. I am like a chicken without a head. It make a terrible mess, but provides a good show. I like having a plan. Plans keep me focused and help me to prioritize and evaluate what I really want and what is important to me. Without a plan I lack focus and anyone who knows me will tell you that I am already working with a deficit as far as being easily distracted. (Squirrels, shiny objects, pretty colors, shoes...you name it.)

I realized what the problem was this weekend and immediately decided to change course and come up with a plan. I just don't know what that plan should be. There are so many things that I need to work on.

I am open to suggestions.

Ridiculous

I just spent the last 2 hours cleaning my house so that it would be presentable enough for the maid to come and clean my house. That is right. You heard me. My poor behind has a maid. I use Merry Maids and I LOVE them.

I guess I should be happy that my mother's opinion of my housework being subpar has finally paid off because she is the one I was most worried about telling. She agreed that I needed help and that is how this journey began. The problem is that now that another person comes into my house, other than the people who love and accept my foolishness and refusal to match socks out of the dryer, I feel compelled to clean up.

Ridiculous, I know, but it is true. Now I am late for work and can barely type these sentences as I run out of the house.

Love you...bye....

Thankful

In light of the recent holiday, I have decided to share the things I am thankful for. I am, as always, thankful for my God, my family and for a delicious diner, but let's be honest I am thankful for a lot more than that.

I am thankful that my husband does not look like a TV weatherman. I know that they are fancy meteorologist now, but they tell the weather and in my book that makes you a weatherman. I remember back in the day when the person who did the weather was most likely to be a former cheerleader or beauty queen. They would point at a smiling sun or sad rain cloud and that was it. The most interesting part about that part of the news was when Willard Scott said "Happy Birthday" to someones 88 year old grandmother or a 6 year old girl. Then there was Al Roker, who looked nothing like most weather people and actually got to talk. Now every weather person wants to chat it up with the anchors and most of them look like a honey roasted rotisserie chicken with frozen foreheads and "creepy man in a van" looks. I am thankful that the plastic surgeon from The Doctors (one of my guilty pleasures) has brought his orange glow into my house and touched the handsome face of the man I love.

I am thankful that while my kids are sometimes loud, they are never weird. I say that because I went to a Thanksgiving diner and the other children there were so quiet I was just waiting for them to snap and take us out into the cornfield. I don't trust kids who don't talk - they are keeping secrets and that is never good.

I am thankful that my daughter was gone long enough for my son to remember what it was like to be the only person for Mommy and Daddy to focus on. When he is alone, we see everything and there is nobody else who could have done it. That means he is under constant watch. He now misses her and will hopefully remember this the next time he wants to get rid of her or hurt her feelings. It is not fun being an only child, at least not for him. He is always doing something and I think he appreciates having someone there to take the heat off.

I am thankful that my sense of humor is still in tact. I have had a rough couple of weeks, but I am back and ready to tackle my challenges with a fresh perspective and a plan of action. I am 11 weeks into my 52 week stay and I am determined to make the best of it.

Thank God for Jesus! (For real, try it; it helps)

Better Day

I got to go to see my sweet boy sing with his class this morning, so today was automatically going to be a better day.

I also had a better day at work. Don't get me wrong, I still want to run screaming from the building, but I said a few things today that I thought might make you laugh. These are things that I really say at work.

Nobody is going to lick it, so please don't put salt and pepper in your hair.
Cake is not a requirement; it is a privilege.
I hope you are not stuck under that chair.
Do not crawl on the table.
You all seem to have a booger fascination.
Do not pick things out of the trash to play with.
I will not give you scissors to cut a can.

And I thought I said strange things at home.

Cover Up

Have you ever noticed that store or restaurant in your neighborhood that seems to stay open despite the fact that no one ever seems to be in there buying anything, EVER? I am not talking about one of those guilty pleasure places like Krystal's, White Castle, or even a celebrity restaurant. It is not the kind of place that you pretend not to,like, but secretly go at 2 AM. It is a dingy hole in the wall with bad food.
I just passed one of those places today when I dropped LoLo off at school. I will admit that I have been to this restaurant once. That was 6 years ago and the food was so bad that I have never been back since. I did not see anyone else in there when I went the first time (Red flag, I know) and I have not seen anyone go in or out since.
I am usually fascinated how places like this can stay open and other places fold within a year. I am sure the overhead is low because they can't be ordering a lot of food based on past sales. They don't need a lot of stay because bugs serve themselves and the location does not warrant a high rental price, but still, something must be up. Then I remembered something that Husband once said about a gas station in our neighborhood where the pumps don't work, but manages to stay open. It must be a drug front or some kind of mafia meeting place. There really is no other explanation for how they stay afloat. The same is true for the car wash that never had a car but always had people standing in front.
It all makes so much more sense now. I think about the few times that I saw a cop pull someone over in that parking area and it is like an episode of CSI, NCIS, and Law & Order when all the pieces finally come together and you know who did it.
It was all a cover up. Consipracry theories are everywhere and sometimes they're real!

9 More To Go

I was in supervision today when it was mentioned that we have been working for 3 months. I found it interesting that mt first thought was not, "wow, that went fast" or "look how far we've come". Nope. My first thought was 9 more to go.

I think that is pretty telling. I then decided that since it takes about 3 months for a job search to really take off, that means I really only have 6 months to go. Then a step further, I could apply to government jobs because they take at least 6 months to realize that you have applied in the first place.

This was a nice distraction, but I still have my sights on making the one year mark without incident, but was nice to dream. If only for a moment.

Choices

JJ Santana is one of my very good friends. I say this because I respect her choice not to get married and to live with her sweetie for the last 300 or so years. I am also very certain that she respects my choice to be married. They are both valid and socially acceptable choices, even if I disagree with "shaking" from a religious standpoint.

I was watching Public Broadcasting the other day and caught the end of a documentary about couples and one of the last couples interviewed was a couple that lives together. It was clear that this couple had been together for quite a while (like decades) and that they had no plans on getting married. In general, that is not a problem for me. God gave people free will and I can't take that away.

My problem is when that pompus woman looked into the camera and said that "life is about choices and every morning I wake up and choose to be with him. There is nothing binding me to him." What?!? Do you think that I wake up with shackles of some sort or that Husbandis keeping me at gunpoint? I make a choice to stay married just the same way she makes the choice to stay unmarried. I make the choice to be an unspoken point of contact, heir, and approved decision maker on his behalf, should he ever be unable to answer.

What really burns me is that this crazy woman thinks that she is less enmeshed than I am. I find it very hard to believe that these two do not share a mortgage or children or friends. I am sure that they know each others family and coworkers. Do you know the hardest part of dissolving a marriage is for most people? It is usually dissolution of property and custody fights. That means that she would have the same problem if she wanted to make a different choice as I would. Her friends would ask her the same questions about what went wrong and trying to rebuild a life.

I made the choice to get married. I am happy and I love it. She made the choice to stay a live-in girlfriend. All the work and none of the legal benefits, also none of the debt sharing. We all make choices. Don't poop on my parade just to make yours seem like sunshine.

Can't Be Serious

I worked a 10 hour shift last night and my mother said she would consider helping me out by taking my son to school this morning. I was a little annoyed that she would not just say yes or no, but it was late and I did not have it in me to get worked up.

This morning, however, there was no call to say yay or nay. I had to call her. She says she would take him so I would not have to wake Suga, but then she lost track of time and was late. If the whole point was not to wake my sleeping monster, then I can't understand her insistence on coming in my house yelling all the time. Then she looks surprised and says, "was I really talking that loud?" Yes, yes you were. I finally usher them out of my house and she insist that I go get some rest. I think it is over and lay down knowing that Suga will be up soon, but that can at least get a moment of peace only to have the phone ring. Is it a telemarketer or one of those donation people. Nope. It is my mother calling from down the street telling me my son has declared himself sick and asking if it is true.

Are you freakin serious? We're you not a teacher and a mother? Weren't you just in my kitchen with him? He is clearly not sick, but I am. I am sick of people asking me crazy questions. I am sick of people telling me to rest only to be a disturbance. To make matters more interesting, she then proceeds to hold me on the phone while they have a back and forth about what hurts and going to school anyway.I was tempted to hang up, but honoring your father and mother is the first commandment with promise.

Even though I seriously doubt Jesus' parents gave him this much trouble.

Election Hangover

It's not what you think. There was definitely no drinking. I took the day off from writing because I could not be trusted to write what I was thinking on the Internet. It is way too permanent a forum for me to fly off the handle on a political rant. Today, I feel better. I am pleased with the results and took great pleasure in watching the concession speech that solidified that I could with good conscience raise my children in the country I love, run by a man I respect.

I do, however, have all the symptoms  of a hangover. My head is foggy and heavy from all the political commentary I watched. My stomach feels like it just came out of my throat and I am positive that I am dehydrated. It was a long night. So waking up and getting the boy to school was a test. Thank God for Husband. He took LoLo so that I would not have to wake Suga and take her out in the blustery wind. I am sure he thinks I went back to bed to sleep it off, but that was not the case. My head was still swimming and the sound of my breathing was too loud to get any rest. So, I did what I always do- laundry.

Suga woke up pretty much within the hour and as I sat with her watching Mickey Mouse zoning in and out I realized something that would normally be very disturbing, but that I let slide in my lax mental state. Mickey was teaching my baby how to steal. He and his "pals" snuck up to the giant's barn and tried to take back a chicken that Donald had traded for without waking him up. I don't know about you all, but sneaking onto my property and taking something that rightfully belongs to me is considered stealing where I come from and here was Mickey Mouse teaching my one year old how to tiptoe in and run away with the goods. I figured it must be a side effect of the hangover- a hallucination, but it was real. I guess I should be glad that I am not tweaking, at least.

I am hoping that I get some rest today, but that is just like asking for things to go wrong. I think I will just have to settle for some coffee and a little hair off the dog that bit me.

Bring on Wolf Blitzer!

Pretty People Problems

We have all by now heard the jokes about "first world problems". Problems like the barista at your local organic sustainable free world market coffee shop being out of vanilla soy and only having skim milk for your coffee. It is a terrible shame that we have to live under such dire conditions. I amsure that Glee fans remember with great delight when Sam told Quinn that her crazy antics were the result of having "rich white girl problems" and that having been poor for half a season had taught him to focus on real things. Well, I have another category to add, "Pretty People Problems".

I don't know what pretty people are upset about all the time. I feel much the same way about rich people, but I don't want to get off track too much. I am not saying that bad things don't happen to rich people or pretty people or to rich pretty people. I am just saying that all things being equal, pretty people have it pretty easy (pun intended). Let's take Miley Cyrus for example. I am not here to discuss how I feel about her looks, but the article I was reading called her beautiful and I am going to write this post as though they could not have written it if it was not true. So here is the scenario, beautiful young millionaire who feels so frustrated and bound by the constraints of her jettsetting lifestyle bought by a squeaky (I use that term loosely) clean Disney image that she feels compelled to give an interview where she curses and talks about how she doesn't care what anyone thinks. Right?!? Then, what pray tell is the point of this interview? Could you not just live your "homebody" lifestyle without the magazine cover and curse in the privacy of your own home. I guess not. She had to prove herself and how hardcore and sexy and unpredictable and misunderstood she is to the whole world as a way to shed that good girl image. Aww, the horror of a good girl image - pretty people problem.

We could also use someone that I love and do consider to be quite a pretty lady, Ms Zooey Deschanel. I love me some New Girl, but the fact that to date her biggest issue to date outside of losing her job and taking a very random set of temporary jobs is that she did not know what to do about dating the attractive millionaire or the emotionally stunted doctor or Justin Long.  Not knowing what awesome attractive person to date because they don't tick off all your boxes is a pretty person problem. Only pretty people can answer random Craigslist ads for a roommate, behave like a total eccentric singing emotionally intrusive crazy person and be allowed to stay. I am just saying, it's true.

The same is true for men. Leonardo DiCaprio, Brad Pitt ( and Johnny Depp beg that they be taken seriously and not be seen as just box office candy. They could all take a lesson from George Clooney and embrace the handsome and all it's privileges. You don't see George scowling and cursing about how hard his life is. Take Matthew Mcconaughey. He has to know that the only reason he can pull a woman like Camilla Alves while not using deodorant is because he is pretty.

These are just celebrity examples, but I see it with regular people too. Remember the woman in Britain who said she could not keep friends because she was so beautiful and other women were jealous. I heard she was not a cute as she thought she was, but that is a pretty person problem if I ever heard one. I hear women complain about the most ridiculous things. People always want to buy them drinks, or lunch, or help them carry things. They don't know who to go out with because they have so many choices and so they pass on making real connections with great people and then complain about being single. Aww, that must be so terrible for you.

Pretty people and their problems.

Barbie Girl

I was one of those girls who grew up playing Barbie, watching princess movies, and all manner of other girlieness. Nowadays, people seem to feel like that this is a recipe for anti-feminism and teaching a girl that they need a man to save them. I, however, never saw it that way. Cinderella, which I watched everyday, did not tell me that I needed a Prince Charming anymore than it taught me that it was k to make friends with mice. I did learn about not being afraid to face your haters with a smile and that hardwork never goes without reward. I learned that it ok to dream about and want a palace and about being wiling to let unbelievably good things happen to me. Perhaps most importantly, I learned that no ridiculously good offer comes without a catch and to make the most of opportunities before they turn into pumpkins.

Barbie had more jobs than any of my male cousins toys. She was a pediatrician, vet, rock star, travel agent, model, beauty pageant winner, and an astronaut. Barbie "worked hard for the money. Hard for it, Honey." Ken really was an afterthought. He was a cool accessory, but like the shoes; you did not need Ken to play or have a good time. Barbie could just as easily meet up with one of the GI Joes found lying around or go out on the town with her girls. She did not need him to get a Ferrari, a townhouse, or a mansion. That sister was doing it for herself. (I am clearly in a singing mood.😗). I must admit that it made me feel like I could do all those things and more and look good while doing them.

The point is that none of these so called bad influences were really that bad. I get what Disney and others are doing by making the new princesses more independent and I like it, but princesses are not the problem. Mattel should have sued Nicki Minaj for calling herself a Barbie girl and being such a one dimensional version of a complex character. The problem these days is the real life reality television women whose whole personas are built upon their identity as someone's ex wife or exgirlfriend. That is a bad example. To make matters worse is the way they fight and act like terrible people at the expense of anything that remotely resembles an idea of a moral compass. They aren't like Jigga, whose compass sometimes needs recalibration. These chicks don't have one at all and we let their nonsense play out in front of our baby girls and reward them by picking favorites, taking sides and lining their pockets with cash for ignorant behavior.

As a mother to a baby girl, I have to honest. I would much rather raise a Snow White than a Hollywood Ex. I'm just saying.

Wisdom

I had a totally different topic in mind, but on the way back home I had a thought and it was too good to let go. I thought about some of the jobs I used to think were cool when I was younger, but really are not. I am not talking your typical fireman and nurse type jobs, although, I will admit that as an adult I would suck at those jobs as well. I am way to rational to run into a burning building and I am much more comfortable with feelings than fluids so nursing is out of the question. I, like most kids, had a set of "go to" answers for the "What do you want to be when you grow up?" Question, but truth be told I did not want to be those things. I just knew that they were the answers I was supposed to give. Much like I knew I was supposed to say I thought boys were gross, but as any of my friends can attest, that was never true.

I have always liked boys and I was always drawn to jobs that leaned more towards the seedy side of life. Maybe that is why I am a therapist. This way I get all the dirt and none of the consequences. In the spirit of sharing and self-disclosure, here is a short list of jobs that I used to think would be fun to have...don't judge me.😉

1. Prostitute - before you get all riled up, let me explain. They got to wear short shirts and skirts. They got to wear makeup and hang out all night with their friends. Plus, the only place I saw them (knowingly) was on television and in movies. There epwere no pimps, no sex, no getting arrested, and I had no clue.
2. Nun - what is not to like about a job that brings you so close to God. You don't have to live with your parents or worry about what to wear. They seemed nice and everyone seemed to like nuns, but it was not meant to be; I wanted a boyfriend and I am not Catholic. Those are just two of the issues, but I will stop there.
3. Hobo - I understand that this is funny because an essential aspect of being a hobo is being unemployed, but as a child this seemed like it would be a great job. No responsibilities, lots of travel (by train, of course) and no parents telling me what to do. Besides, the only place you saw hobos, not bums, was on tv shows like Dennis the Menace and in old movies. There was never any mention of the more disturbing things like alcoholism, poor hygiene, and homelessness. Like most jobs, this one looked better on tv.

My bad for posting so late. I started this morning and decided to take a nap and finish later, but overslept. I set the alarm. I don't know what happened, but I woke up at the time I really needed to be leaving the house. So this is an after work posting of a before work idea. 

Hope it stayed fresh.

My Lane

I cannot speak for other people, but I really do prefer to drive in a lane by myself. I say this because recent events have lead me to believe that I must look very sad and lonely in my car. What other reason could ther be for the ridiculous number of times that someone tried to drive in the same lane I was in at the exact same time? They must have been trying to let me know that I am not alone, right?

Okay. If that is not true then try this. The reason that my boss is being unreasonable about me taking time off is because she really loves having me around. That sounds nice, doesn't it? You see, I am working on putting a positive spin on things that would normally piss me off. I am really trying to recognize not just that God is in control of the situation, but that I am in control of how I interpret the situation and thus how I go through it.

I could curse and make random gestures at the person driving crazy, but considering I am one of the few anti-gun people in the state I run a great risk of offending someone who is packing. Can God protect me? Yes, of course! Does that mean I should antagonize would be shooters? I don't think so. I could go in and rebuke my boss in the name of Jesus an take whatever days I want and I really doubt she would fire me, but I also don't think that is the best way to get my name out there for promotions.

Oh my goodness! Is it true. I may be maturing. What is the world coming to?

Kid Rules

I often joke about the things I never thought I would have to say out loud until I had children. Here are some more from the last couple weeks.

Do not lick your sisters face.

It is not okay to kick people in the face- even if you are playing Power Rangers.

Suga, we do not play in the toilet.

No naked outside. (That is exactly how I said it too. Thanks AP English.)

No crayons in the shower.

Either eat your waffle or leave it, but you cannot take it to go pee pee.

We do not swallow toothpaste.

No spitting in the car. You too, Suga.

Your sister is not a puppy. Stop petting her head.

Thank you for trying to help, but you cannot pull your sister's legs down the stairs.

Yes, it is dirty, but we do not throw our forks and cups in the garbage. They go in the sink.

Suga, do not take things out of the garbage can. Nasty, nasty!

I hope you all enjoyed a look into my world. Have a great day!

Doctor Janaan

"Ds get degrees." The head of my undergraduate psychology department once told that to a student who was struggling in class. We all laughed and he added that nobody ever asks for your GPA at an interview. He had a point. The people who made Cs and Ds get to say the same thing that I do- they graduated. Their diploma looks the same with the same college name and insignia.

This point was brought to mind the other day as I listened to some of the interns talking about school and overheard them mention having had to retake classes and getting just passing grades. They were laughing and smiling that they had made the requirements to graduate. Thankfully, they are both in pretty rigorous programs in which a C is considered failing, but it made me wonder about what my professor once said.

I have to admit that I have never once asked my doctor what his GPA was. I picked him because he is close by and in network. He also passed my thorough (wink, wink) internet check of reading the last 10 posts that rated him as either average or above and the fact that I had never seen him on the news as having killed someone. I will admit that more than once he has said something that me wonder if he was Cum Laude or Come Late, but overall I like most have just taken for granted that his having graduated means that he is qualified. Have you ever wondered about your doctor, or dentist or nurse.
I have had a lot of blood drawn for a lot of reasons and I am sure that some of those nurses have failed the phlebotomy class a time or two because they can't hit a vein to save a life- pun intended.

I graduated my graduate program with a perfect 4.0 GPA and when it is all said and done the girl with the barely passing mark will have exactly the same license that I do. This is not to say that grades reflect ability, but it certainly effects client/patient confidence. Just imagine how you would feel if you got your lab results back and your doctor said, "I am not sure about this last section here because I barely got out of Organic Chem, but don't worry Dr. Johnson down the hall got an A and she says you'll be fine." Wouldn't you request Dr. Johnson next time or possibly mid visit?

I had this same thought when one of them told me that she had to retake the theories class again after getting a poor grade. If you are in a crisis do you want a therapist who could not pass theory. How can you apply a concept that you don't actually understand. She says that when she started working as an intern the comment was made that she was good at theory. Well, you should be. You took it twice. That is like being 8 on the 1st Grade Honor Roll.

I'm just saying. It's true. Ds get degrees, but As inspire confidence. Maybe I should start asking better questions at the doctors office.

Me Too

Husband and I often make fun of couples that we see are clearly on their first date. It is not because we are jaded or down on that first date experience. It is just funny to us the things that people connect on as if they are the only people with those interests and that their getting together must be fate. Example, you like dessert...Me too! You like movies...Me too! You love your parents...Me too! While I am learning that the last one is not as common as I once thought, you have to admit that the novelty of first meeting is kind of funny.

Well, Husband and I are about to experience a rebirth of the "me too", but in a whole new way. It all started the other day when I woke up to a sink full of dishes, a living room full of toys, hampers full of dirty clothes, and a laundry room full of unfolded clean clothes. The refrigerator was stocked with old tupperware containers that needed to be emptied and there was no meal for my family to eat. Normally, I wake up, get both my kids ready, drop LoLo at school, take Suga to the store, buy food to cook for dinner for the week, come home, cook, put dishes in the dishwasher, put a load of laundry in the machine, do a toy sweep, try to do a couple of songs for Zumba, freshen up, get dressed, put clothes in the dryer, and walk out the house to drop off Suga and go to work, but not this day. I woke up that morning and realized that something was not right. Why in the world am I working before I go to work and why am I doing all this by myself? That is when it hit me that there was distinct imbalance in the work load and I was going to have to figure something out.

I started thinking about how hard Husband works, but realized I do too. I know he works 2 jobs, but Me too. I know that you have 2 kids, but Me Too. I know that you are tired when you get home, but ME Too. I know that you work with people who make you crazy, but ME TOO! You were so tired last night that you dozed off on the couch and dreamt that you were sleeping... me too! I know that you drive over an hour one way to get to work, but wait no you don't. That is just me.

The point is that things had to change or I was going to wind up bitter and single and anyone who remembers me single knows that it was not a good look and the last thing I need to add to that mix is two kids and bitterness. So I hired Merry Maids and while husband pouts about the cost he realized that things are much better now that I stopped shooting daggers at him with my eyes. Merry Maids helped keep my marriage together. Thanks, Merry Maids.

You love Merry Maids... ME TOO!

Denial

I am always amazed by the power of denial. I have seen it in almost every form and fashion and yet it never gets old. I have had clients say things like, "I don't have a problem with cocaine. I am just here for heroin. " I have also seen the mother of a fairly low functioning child with Aspergers and possibly Tourettes say "Are you sure he is not just being a normal teenager?" Really? When was the last time she saw a normal teenager?

I realize now that I too have been guilty of some major denial. I was in denial regarding working with children. I am just not into kids. I have never in life wanted to be a teacher and being closed in a room trying to do group therapy with preteen boys is way to too much like teaching! I feel like my entire session is spent redirection. I am also convinced that everyone's medication wears off right in the middle of the first group. That leaves me with three and a half hours of group time with people who have been couped up all day and are ready to burst. AWESOME? Not really.

I was also in denial about the travel. I am a girl that never drove more than 15 miles to work and now I drive for over 60. I thought that maybe I would enjoy the time to myself or find something cool like books or language classes to listen to, but the truth is that I hate driving maybe even more than I hate teaching.

They say they first step to recover is admitting you have a problem. My problem is that denial wrote a check that my heart can't cash. Now what can I do?

Too Soon

I just started this new job about a month ago and I have just one question. Is it too soon for me to start looking for another job? I know that only a month at this job makes me look kind of unstable, but I am not sure I can keep. This up.

I drive over an hour everyday to get there and an hour back and then when I am there I am not exactly doing what I want to do. I am pretty sure that my boss finds some new report or audit tool every week to add to my to do list. The other therapists are not bad other than a little drama and a lot of anxiety.

The real issue is that I am not working with an ideal population. My mother was a teacher and my sister is a teacher. There was one thing I knew for certain when I went to college. I did NOT want to be a teacher. Doing group therapy with pre-teens, most with ADHD or some form of cognitive delay, feels a lot like teaching and it sucks. Yesterday solidified that thought for me. I had a great family session with an adult and have spent most of the week on the adult inpatient side. Then I left there and went to work with the kids. I spent most of the day redirecting and explaining concepts to people whose concentration medications had clearly worn off, like an overworked and underpaid teacher.

I knew it was bad when I stayed late to finish my notes just so that I could start my day on the adult side today. The simple truth is that I even prefer the adults with thought disorders to working with children. Bring on the paranoia and delusions. I still prefer mood disorders and substance abuse, but I am learning that anything is better than kids. I was so burned out and tired when I left that the only clear thought on my mind was...

Is it really too soon to start looking for another job?

Crazy Hours

You may have been wondering what is up with my inconsistent posting. Well, the truth is that I am tired. I have been working crazy hours, like 7:30 am - 8:30 pm on Monday. Not to mention the fact that I worked this past Saturday. To be honest, I don't know if I am coming or going and I know that something has to give. I just don't know what it is going to be.

Clearly I am going to have to keep the children. Although, from a purely exhaustive standpoint, they should be the first to go. I am going to keep husband for the same reason the kids get to stay; I love him and have legal obligations to fulfill. Besides that, his mother has made it perfectly clear that I cannot return him to her. As much I would like to, I know that I am never going to stop listen to my parents special brand of crazy. So where does that leave me.

I work two jobs. One that I love and one that I use to pay the bills. Oh, if only they were one and the same. I am thinking about starting the application process again. Is a month too soon to decide to start job hunting again? Does it make me look as unstable as I feel? I don't know. The only thing that I have decided for now is to work fewer weekends in the hope of keeping my kids from forgetting what I look like.

Speaking of kids. They are doing well. I don't see them very often because of my new hours, but I thought I would leave you with some LoLo and Suga talk.

Suga has decided that she wants no parts of a soiled diaper. It makes no difference to her where we are. I am sure that when we start potty training this will give us an advantage, but for now I want you to imagine my sweet girls standing up on the seat as I roll the shopping cart and patting her hand on front of her pamper and shout in her most urgent irritated voice, "I pee pee. I pee pee." Ahhh...good times.

LoLo not only told me, "everybody loves LoLo", but also "I am handsome!" Jokingly, I said and modest. To which he answered, "and modest. Thanks, Mommy." I just laughed. I was glad I could help.

Bad Boys

When I went to work this Saturday I saw a guy who reminded me so much of the guys I used to date. He had the piercings, the tats, and was exactly where I thought they would end up...REHAB. As I resisted the countertransference that had me wanting to tell him what his real problem was I could not help but be proud of myself for taking my own advice. (I once told my niece this nugget of wisdom, but I don't think she was listening.) Simply put, I come from a long line of women with questionable taste in men, the important thing to remember is to get it together before you marry one. I did that. Don't get me wrong, Husband totally has the bad boy edge, but he got himself together with no help from me.

I know that many girls date the bad boy and want to change him. They want to be the one whose love makes him realize the error of his ways and heal the hurt little boy inside. I also understand how my being a therapist would lead people to believe I would be one of those girls, but I assure you that I was not. I dated bad boys with no intention of trying to change them. I did it because I loved the life and the excitement and the drama. It was like being Bipolar without the need for meds.

Then one day, I woke up and knew that I had had enough. I wanted to finally "Do Better" and date someone whose job involved paying into Social Security and whose tattoos would not lead to police questioning. I was over the drama and the "ride or die" lifestyle no longer appealed to me. I did not want to help pay fines, accept collect calls or keep checking the side view mirror as we drove. I was still down for the hustle mentality, but my love of the hustle had passed. On a side note, I recently told LoLo to repeat after me - no neck tattoos. Yes, he is for, but I figure it is like the don't do drugs talk. It is never too early.

That is why it gave me such great satisfaction when after I complimented the patient on being seeming to in a better head space and no longer giving me looks that could kill and he replied with, "Naw, I was probably just checking you out," that I was no longer in a place that called for a "Thanks, Boo".

It kind of made me shiver and throw up in my mouth, but I redirected and kept the group focused all while giving myself a pat on the back in my head.

Yay, me!

New Friends

I am getting acclimated to the people that I work with, but the more I get to know them the more evident it becomes that these people will not be my new friends. Truth be told, I miss my old friends. I miss JJ,Jigga, Lotus, Seattle, and Cocoa.

I miss being able to just laugh and talk about things like Miley Cyrus' new haircut and how the new Guess ads are so chessy that they make you miss Anna Nicole. Mostly, I miss just being chill. I work with therapists, but virtually all of them are anxiety ridden. There is nothing quite likean edgy mental health worker. I mean, who doesn't want a twitchy ticking time bomb telling them how to get and keep their life together. That is not the point though.

The point is that I miss my friends. I miss Jigga's refusal to conform and "do better" and her willingness to laugh about it. I miss JJ Santan's ability to cut through all the crap and her "What!?!" face. I miss how Seattle always made me feel better about my shambles of a work life and her ability to be wildly inappropriate in the most subtle and amusing ways. I miss Lotus just being random. I miss Grumpy being his chipper self and telling me exactly what the problem is. I miss Cocoa's diva act because nobody pulls it off quite as well. Lastly, I miss Tresemme, who while being the newest was one of the funniest. I will admit to missing the hair, but he is more than his beautiful locks. He is a man so comfortable in his douchery that you not only overlook it, but you start to enjoy it. If he did not already have a name, I would call him Schmidt.

That brings me to my next point. They don't watch New Girl or Glee or Once and therefore can't understand most of what I want to talk about in my down time. I mean, really?

How am I supposed to work under these conditions!

Get Low

 I am not really one to call other people hypocrites. One, it is not really a good way to make or keep friends ands amd two, it usually involves assumptions about other people's life and intentions that just don't have the knowledge base to make. I have no problem calling out my friends to do better, but hypocrite is a strong word and I don't use it lightly.

I will, however, laugh hysterically at people whose behavior doesn't match the package. It may or may not be hypocritical, but it is ironic and irony is funny.

Husband and I went to a preseason basketball game with Father and Mallow. We were having a good time and for most of the first quarter the seats in front of us were empty. When the people finally did show up, they provided us with endless entertainment that most certainly rivaled the lackluster play of the game. The focus of this post, however, will be the woman henceforth referred to as Church Lady.

My acknowledgement of Church Lady was slow because upon entrance she was easily overshadowed  by the boisterous antics of her friend Pack-a-Day, who based on the number of shout outs she gave to passing security officers, I can only hope she used to work there. My other option of optimism is that the old smokers section was next to the security office. I did notice that Church Lady was more excited about the music they were playing tan the game itself, but again there is nothing spectacular about shoulder shaking to the hype music they play at a game. Somewhere around halftime they switched seats and Church Lady sat in front of me. That is when things got comical.

This was a Sunday game, so it is no surprise that some people probably came from church. At least they went. Husband and I did not. After realizing that we were not going to be able to pull it together for early service, we passed and went telechurch. In my defense, I have cramps and we have to kids. God knows; don't judge me. (wink, wink) That is why I try to keep my "bad" Christian comments to a minimum these days. I stick with humorous, which brings us back to her. It was clear after she got closer, that she had been to church that morning. Here is a short list of clues.

She still had one of those big church lady broach style clips in her hair. You know the ones that are are gold, rectangular, and mimic some type of embroidery.
She was wearing church jewelry. The three drop pearl earrings are not typical game wear.
She was wearing soft structure high collar jacket with an across the chest purse.
She basically looked like she went into the bathroom after her usher board meeting and changed from her skirt to pants and came to the game. That explains why she was late. None of this would have been interesting to me if it had not been for one thing. Right before I noticed her attire, she stood in front of me and let it all hang out to the song Get Low. WHAT!?!

What in the world is going on? I know they don't play that at altar call. Unless they are trying to remind the people who went out the night before tat they need to get it together before the Rapture. Yet, here she was acting as a living example of some kind of Christian mullet- choir member on top and stripper on the bottom. It was quite a contrast and I have to admit that I laughed well. So, I have to say thank you. My team lost and my soda was over priced, but I did get a good laugh.

Thanks, ladies!

Fitness

Time for a fitness update. My new schedule has made finding time for running fairly difficult. Enter Zumba for the Wii. I have to admit that it is better than I thought it would be. I won't o like the people on the commercials and lie about how it did not even feel like exercise because it does. Yes, you are dancing, but following that computer graphic person is much more stressful than a night out with friends. I can't speak for those people, but in a purely social setting, I definitely would stop dancing before I reached that level of sweat. Sweat is a look that requires the proper context to be acceptable. There are a limited number of places outside of the gym where it is attractive or acceptable.

Now that I have my new exercise routine down, I moved on to trying to fix my diet. My major problem is that there is no refrigerator at my job. I should also mention that there is also no microwave at this point. So, everyday I have to bring food that won't either go bad or be gross after sitting out and does not have to be reheated. That usually results in fast food or prepackaged snack foods. That is not exactly diet friendly, right? So what is this girl to do? The truth is that I don't know.

Any ideas?

New Ideas

As a new parent, you are likely to believe that you have control over what your kids will know and believe. Not true. For example, LoLo learned about Santa at school. Our resulting conversation went something like this.

LoLo: Mommy, Santa brings presents down the chimney.
Me: Yeah?
LoLo: Mommy, who is Santa?
Me: I don't know baby.

Don't get me wrong I am no Santa hater and I love me some Christmas, but Husband and I had not decided which approach to take. We're we going to, as he put it, lie to our kids and murky the story of Christ's birth or were we going to have the kid that ruins it for everyone else by telling them the real reason why there is a song about mommy kissing Santa Claus. In this case we just went with it. We never confirmed or denied it. When he brings it up, we just go with it, but Christmas is easy. He was going to get presents regardless of if he believed in Santa or not.

What about other things? Like the Easter bunny (a concept that baffles me even as an adult) or the tooth fairy. You would like to think that you have a say in whether you want to introduce an idea that will allow your kids to shake you down for cash based solely on an evolutionary necessity. Humans have to lose teeth. Why am I paying? Oh yeah, because my son saw it on an episode of Bubble Guppies. Thanks Nick Jr. I am glad that I am not really por and struggling because I would probably have to come up with some horrible story to explain why she and Santa never come. A tragic accident? To morbid. They can't find our house? Not believable. You've been naughty? Too mean and not really true. It is recession and they can't afford the gas to get here? Too real!

All I know is that my kids don't need anyone giving them more new ideas about fictional characters coming to bestow gifts  upon them. I don't want to keep feeling pressured to lie to my kids. So please everyone, stop helping.

TGFS

We have all heard of TGIF. Well, I used to thank God for Sunday. Growing up Sundays used to mean going to church and then relaxing while watching my mom cook. Then I became a teenager and Sundays meant going to church followed by hanging out with my friends. College changed my Sunday routine. College Sunday usually involved sleeping late and helping my friends recover from Saturday night. (They drank. I didn't) after graduation I realized that I wanted to make some very important life changes. I gave my life to Christ and Sundays went back to church and friends. I got married and moved away from my friends, but Sundays were still the best days. I went to church and then chilled out with Husband.

Things are different now. I still go to church, but my chill vibe has been severely compromised and I struggled to find new balance. Sundays have now become the day when I try to fix all the things that did not get done from the week before and try to prepare for this weeks coming onslaught of crazy. It is draining to say the least. The are still some good things about Sunday. For example, it is the only day of the week I can rely on Husband to help get the kids up and ready. Somehow, on every other day of the week, regardless of if we are both working, that is considered my responsibility. I don't know how that came to the case, but those rules don't apply to Sunday. The second best thing is that one of my favorite shows, Once upon a time, is back on. I DVR it and after the kids are asleep and the last load is in the dryer, Husband and I watch it. He thinks to much to really enjoy it, but he makes really fun observations. He makes it funny and I always need a dose of humor.

It is Monday now and LoLo woke up with a cold and I am behind in some of my paperwork and all I can think is TGFS because I am just relaxed enough not to be dangerous.

Not Paying

I realized that I am no longer going to be able to keep running because of my new janky schedule. I can't do it after work because it is dark and I am tired. I can't do it before work because I would have to take the Suga with me. This led me to my next very important decision. I would join the brainwashed masses and try Zumba.

So, I did what any cheap and barely motivated woman in my position would do. I went on the internet to find some disgruntled person for whom it did not work. I imagined that they now wanted to unload it and any memory of the awkward "dance" sequences. I figured that I could find if for about half price. I was so Very VERY wrong.

Former Zumba devotees are either mean or delusional. They think that I am going to pay virtually the same amount for their used dvds  just because it is "like new". I don't care if you only watched it one time (to gauge whether you really wanted to try it) while eating ice cream on the couch. The fact of the matter is that you used it and I am not paying like you didn't. That is crazy and delusional. The other option is that they are bitter and mean. You did not lose the weight. I am sorry about that. You hurt yourself doing that hip swing. That is a shame. I get that you may be trying to recoup your loses and pay for some medical expenses, but you won't get it from me.

I had all but given up hope when I went on a family trip to Walmart with Husband. This was totally his idea because I am not really into Walmart. I think it is a great idea in theory to be able to find everything you could ever imagine in one store, but I am too easily distracted and annoyed to ever really have good experiences there. Plus, I find nothing more irritating having one item and having to wait behind someone you has at least one thing from every aisle in the store, but I digress.

We went to pick up some pictures and walked through electronics. That is when I saw it- Zumba for the Wii. It was 30 dollars. Why didn't I think of that sooner? So I bought it. The next day I went to try it and could not for the life of me find the Wii remotes. I finally found them behind the couch and realized that I only had time to try out one song. I am hoping that the reason it did not measure my progress is because I opted not to register a profile (no time for that) because other wise I am going to be pissed and more than likely quit.

Do you think I could sell it for double?

Snack Attack

Men and women think differently. Everyone knows that. What defies logic is how surprised and annoyed I am every time Husband does something that to me just does not make sense.

There are some behaviors that are uniquely male (like peeing standing up) and while this one is, as I am sure, not a "man thing" per se, it is something that I see them do far more often than women. I did what most women do and married a man very much like my father. Unlike some of my friends, I did it on purpose - not because I thought he was perfect, but because there are things that I genuinely like about my Daddy and after dating more people than I care to count, I realized that I my personality was best suited to a man just like "dear old Dad". Although, Husband is similar, he does have his own quirks and is most definitely a man with fewer issues. Thank God.

They do have one similar quality I would like to highlight because it really ruffled my feathers this weekend. It is a quality they share with my sister's crazy ex-husband (one of the few besides genitalia) and many of my friend's boyfriends, husbands, and exes. It is not something dangerous or even that major, but there are times when it is just a pisser offer.

When I, as a woman, go to the store, I buy things for everyone. I buy the snacks that everyone likes. I either buy chips that we all can share or I buy individual treats. For example, I found Pringles on sale and bought the following flavors (BOGO): Salt and Vinegar, BBQ, Sour Cream and Onion, and plain. He one the other hand went to the store a couple days ago (after finishing the last of the chips, of which I only got a handful) and came back with Dill Pickle. WHAT!?! I don't want to eat pickle chips.

Before I had a meltdown, I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and check the pantry for something that he may have bought with me in mind. Do you know what I found? NOTHING. Not even a bag of tortilla chips. It reminded me of my parents and lets be frank. It is rarely I good thing to make your wife feel like she is becoming her mother. My mother's constant peeve is about bread. She says that my father goes to the store and buys bread in flavors that she does not eat or want to eat and that when she then goes to the store and buys wheat bread, he eats all of "her" bread first, leaving her with no bread and never thinks to replace it. Chyna has a similar story about her husband and the list goes on and on. 

I know that we think differently and that opposites attract and all that crap, but is is really that hard to consider someone else when walking down the aisle. This may be as bad as the time he came home with Tomato Basil chips. I don't want spaghetti sauce on my chips. If you want to experiment that is fine, but at least have a back up plan. My visceral reaction to his purchase was about to bring new meaning to the words "Snack Attack".

I mean, really, people have been shanked for less. 

90 Days

The probationary period for most jobs is 90 days. Thanks to the Ford Motor Company most employers feel like they can assess you accurately based on your performance in 3 months. Suckers! Even straight up crazies can usually keep it together for 90 days. I have, however, met people who can't. Like the woman who tried to change everyone else's schedule during her second week so as to accommodate her Weight Watchers meetings.

This weekend one of the supervisors at my weekend gig called to thank someone for working a last minute shift only to have her start complaining that this call was a violation of her boundaries and she needs time off. This was all before he got a chance to thank her. As you can imagine, this did not end up being a thank you call. I actually think it ended with a write-up because she got a little beyond herself.

I have seen everything from refusing to do work, faking food poisoning, and stealing, but I never thought that I would be on of those people. Apparently, I am. I left campus (a no-no) and "disrespected" a higher-up. I have since sent the customary apology email and am hoping to be past it, but this hit on one of my major pet peeves. People who go to a boss to address an issue that should start with the offending party. If I personally offend you, you should personally come and talk to me. Then if I do it again or don't respond in a productive manner, it should go one step up. This is an important part of respect for me and is totally not how it went down.

This would not be such a big deal except when asked to apologize it took everything in me and a great deal of the Holy Spirit to keep the real me under wraps and not give a half done snarky apology. Thank God the professional me was there to proofread for the 'hood me (because as usual, 'hood me was out of control).

I will wish for all of you the same thing I wished for her and exactly what I hope for myself everyday.

May your today be better than your yesterday.

In Trouble

It was really only a matter of time before I got into some kind of trouble at my new job. This time it is because We have been shadowing at another site for a few days and nothing really productive has been happening. It was suggested that we sit in on a meeting. As I walked in, I noticed that everyone was eating. The meeting was as exciting as dry toast and nothing in it pertained to me or my job and so I left to get something to eat for myself and a coworker.

I later get a call from my director because she wants to talk to me about what happened. Now, we all know that I don't do things that I can't justify and I don't really do shame because I always think that I am right and therefore have nothing to be ashamed about. I am not looking forward to this little meeting, but there are a few things that support my decision to leave and I am sure that this event will have little impact on me in the long run. What does upset me is someone's decision to skip over talking to me and go directly to my boss.

How can you call your self a therapist or an adult for that matter and lack the basic understanding that it is always better to come and address someone before going to a superior? All this talk about feelings and being able to communicate obviously means nothing because they would rather "tell mom" than be an adult and address the issue with me first. That is a punk move and one that totally kills any respect that I have for a person.

I am pretty sure that I know who did it. She is someone who wants to be in charge and may see me as her greatest competition for that position. I am, however, not easily intimidated. I really am working on my christian attitude and the knowledge that what God has for me is for me and I don't want anyone else's blessings because I don't want anyone else's headaches. If that job is meant for me, it will happen either way. I won't get it by pretending to be someone else and behaving in a way that is counter intuitive to who I am. I am not someone who is willing to waste time in a meeting that is 1. not valid according to state regulations, 2. not productive and 3. not required. That is not who I am or who I want to be.

I am, however, willing to see that maybe it was hurtful/disrespectful to the meeting leader and am OK with apologizing to her. I will take responsibility for setting a bad example for my team because they did follow behind me, but I will not apologize to the suspected tattler because the rest of the team left her and sat with me. You reap what you sow and immaturity usually sparks more immature behavior. Besides, they assumed it was her without my input and they came and sat with me without my input. I am just taking it all in and preparing for my meeting, but she best watch out because...

I may not start something, but I know how to finish.

Radio Fatigue

My commute to work has been extended beyond my usual 20 minutes to a whole hour. I pass most of this time on the phone with friends that I don't normally get to speak to and calling those companies that like to leave people on hold for long periods of time. While this takes up a significant amount of time, I usually spend some portion of the commute listening to the radio.

I read recently that most college freshman do not even use the radio in their cars because they are so connected to their IPods and services like Pandora, but I have not been a college freshman in a LONG time and I still like to hear new music and a little light banter while I drive. That is usually what is on the radio from 7-10 in the morning, but now that I drive in at about 11 I hear a lot more music and a lot less witty banter.

This would be fine if most of the songs did not make me feel like I was having a seizure. At this point, I would pay the dj myself to hear someone that still sounded like a real person and did not have some variation of a 90's techno beat on loop in the background. I can't lie, I loved (and still do) songs like Computer Love. It was so new and different to hear that warped voice over that traditional R&B beat and I can probably sing more words to a Lady Gaga song than any self-respecting Christian should, but there is a reason that I don't play them back to back in an all day loop.

I had to turn to The Fish (Christian radio station) just to hear some good old fashioned Rock and Roll style guitar. Even the Praise station hear is overrun with autotune and heavy club beats. Jesus brings peace, people! He does not induce seizures and headaches. Give it a rest!

I am not expecting everyone to sound like Adele or a 1980's Whitney. Right now I would just settle for someone who still sounded like a real person.

Blockbuster Night

I don't know about anyone else, but recently I have really started to miss Blockbuster Video. Yes, I have a Netflix account and access to more than one Redbox, but it is becoming clear to me that they are just not enough.

Case in point: Husband and I were just relaxing one night on the couch after bedtime and stumbled across a movie called "She's Out of My League". I had heard of it when it came out, but it was not one of those movies that I felt the need to rush out and see. i was surprised by how interested I was when I started watching, but my responsible, i.e. party-pooping, husband reminded me that I had work in the morning and several more things to do before bed and assured me that we could finish watching it another time.

LIES! He can't find it in Netflix' stripped down menu and it is too old to be in Redbox, but I am convinced that I know who would have had it- Blockbuster Video. I also miss the browsing and the way picking a movie became an event all unto itself. They also employed some of my most questionable friends during college (by far my friends most questionable time). They had just the right mix of old and new. It really worked at times like this when I saw something that sparked my interest. I am married with two kids, my list of movies I missed extends way past a Redbox shelf-life and my time window is too short to try to filter through all the filler that Netflix uses to distract me from the fact they don't have the movie I really want.

I hate our our neighborhood Blockbuster has become one of those beauty supply super stores that clutter black neighborhoods with more fake hair than any of us need to have and bad customer service. I really hate this particular store, which may be skewing my nostalgia just a bit. They would not give me a refund on something I bought, but to make it worse and more inconvenient they would not let me leave with any outstanding store credit. This means that although I did not need anything other than some conditioner, I had to walk around the store hoping something random might prove useful or lose my money. The owners of this same store would not refund or exchange some improperly labeled stockings that my mother purchased there because as they said, "It is not our fault. That is a manufacturer issue." Thankfully for them, I just happened to walk out of Publix as my mother paced and considered going back in to tell them how she really felt. I talked her off the ledge and we decided she, like me, should never go in there again. They may not have been perfect, but this kind of poor service never happened at Blockbuster.

Between the missing movie and the janky beauty supply, I am longing to make it a Blockbuster Night.

Too Much

What was I thinking? Why did I leave my cushy office job for this start up? I guess I am just a glutton for punishment. It is not all bad though. I will admit that I love what I do. That makes all the little troubles seem minimal

For all the warm and fuzzies, I must admit that Husband's first day as a primary parent was not a toad win. Let's recap and hit the high notes.

I asked about LoLo's homework and he says "Your mother did most of it. He still has one thing left." I asked if he went over it with him and he says, "he ate a jelly sandwich and passed out". A jelly sandwich? Really? I baked a whole chicken before I went to work. I also checked the undone homework and it was writing his name 3 times. Aargh! I can't believe my teacher husband has our son going to school with unfinished homework.

I asked if he took his shower and guess what? He did not because there was no time. I have no idea what that means because our kids are on a schedule and unless he deviated from the plan, what he is really saying is that they gave him a run for his money and he opted out. I totally understand that one even though it left me a little peeved.

I forgot to ask about Suga, but woke up this morning to find her in the same shirt she wore yesterday. In his defense, she did have on pajama pants. I figured he had not given her a bath either.

Did I mention the dishes were still in the sink and the clothes weren't folded. How exactly did he run out of time?

Hopefully, today will go more smoothly. I don't have high hopes about what I will find considering he clearly ate taquitos for dinner. I know because they were still on the stove when I walked in.

I am glad he is so mice to look at because he makes a terrible house-husband.

Figured Out

Hey! I'm back. It took me a whil, but I think that I have finall figured out my new schedule and will be back on the grind as of today. Whew! It is weird because I have missed sharing my randomness with you.
 I took th time to celebrate my anniversary and figure out when I will have time to run, do the personal things I used to do at work and have time to blog. I think it is all coming together. Let's see if I can keep it up.

I have also spent a great deal of time in my car thinking and I have realized something. People who speed and rive recklessly on the highway are selfish bastards. Just because you are ok with dying on the expressway does not mean that I am. I saw these clowns yesterday driving so poorly around an 18 wheelr gas truck that I was convinced they were trying to reenact that scene in Fast and Furious where they rob the truck. The only problem was that they weren't doing a good job and were probably just on their way to work.

I just don't get it. Why are you playing around with a truck? If you really don't want to go to work, why don't you just call out sick? That way if you change your mind tomorrow or the HR person from one of those jobs you sent feelers out to finally calls, you won't be dead. Why don't you wait until you see me drive by before you engage in you suicide plan? What makes you think I want to participate? I did not sign a waiver!

I have to go. Not because I have run out of things to say, but because on day one of my new schedule I am already 8 minutes behind and I don't want to become one of those people I just ranted about.

Later!

And Done

Well, today was finally my last. It is kind of like a celebrity pregnancy; I talked about it so much for so long that seemed like my two week notice has taken two months. I amass to leave my friends, but really excited about moving on before I really did lose my mind because I think that I was getting there.

This is also my wedding anniversary weekend and I am sad to say that we have no plans. We are just too overextended doing things for others that we have not had time for ourselves. Mallow being the good friend that she is has taken the Suga Booga and may come tomorrow for LoLo, but right now it is just me, Husband, LoLo sitting in the house watching reruns of Good Times. Husband is finishing his work and I am laying here with my feet up.

I would normally be really upset about this. Holidays, birthdays, annniversaries are all really important to me, but we have both been really caught up in other stuff that all we want to do to celebrate is NOTHING- glorious nothing!

We were looking forward to nothing, but our babysitter, who is normally very reliable has chosen this week to be out of pocket and my mother has pulled the tired old lady card. Finally, my super responsible (insert extreme amounts of sarcasm) seems to have either not paid her phone bill and gotten disconnected or changed her number for the eight hundreth time (most likely in search of a better deal) and did not think it important enough to update me. (please expect a post in a week or two about how she called crying/yelling that I haven't called and don't care about if she is alive or dead.) This leaves LoLo at home with us. That is fine by him because he has our full attention. It does, however, mean that there will be no pretending that we are young and free this weekend.

It may sound like this weekend will be a bust, but I still have hope. 1) I hope Mallow does decide to come get the LoLo. 2) I hope the babysitter is available tomorrow. 3) I plan to have a good time even if things stay the way they are because taking care of one 4 year old is really not that bad and how things stand currently that is all we have.

It is like husband says, we don't have 3 or more because we can't let them outnumber us; at two we are even, but with one we are finally back at having the advantage.

That is worth celebrating.

High Standards

I was talking to Seattle this afternoon and she brought something to my attention. It is something that Husband once said to me. It was hard to hear, but in hindsight o may have to agree.

When the time comes to give our children the lectures about decision making, I may not be qualified to give those talks. I apparently have a history of bad judgment. I will let you know the two reasons my friend and my love have called me out.

1. Back in the day when I ran on my college track, we took a trip to a meet that left us in one of those motels where you walk outside to your room. After a water and ice fight that got us reported to management, we decided to go to the. All we saw on our way in. The problem was that it was on the other side of the highway. So what did we do? We ran down the hill, across the highway , and up the other side. Did I mention that I had on a maxi-dress and platform style shoes with the one strap across the top of the foot?  I will admit it was not my shinning moment and apparently a deal breaker in teaching our children about making good choices.

2. For our very first date, my sweet loving Husband took me a movie and to get a bite to eat. That is pretty normal, right? Well, he took me to fairly old movie theater in the middle of the hood. I don't pretend like I am from a good neighborhood. I am a hood girl through and though, but this place was so hood that I am sure that I could have bought weed at the concession stand. I am also reconsidered going to the bathroom because it reminded me of Halloween in high school. I just knew that there was a girl waitin in there to put lye/bleach in my hair or steal my purse. Not only did he take me to this hardcore theater, but he took me to see How High with Method Man and Redman. That should tell you what kind of movie that was. After that he took me to eat at Hooters. I am convinced that this was some kind of test. I am sure that my staying and not flinching was directly linked to his
proposing. I tell this story laughing, but it dawned on me that on that day when my sweet baby girl starts to date, I am going to have to explain why I not only did not leave, but married the guy who took me to Hooters. (In my defense, he was a good choice!)

I am not saying I agree, but I am sensing a pattern and they may have a point.

Silent Treatment

What idiot came up with the idea of "the silent treatment"?

I know that those of you who watch Whitney have seen that I am not the only one that believes it is a ridiculous practice. The only person who suffers is the person who is upset. they are still having the argument in their head and fuming and thinking about it. They are still upset. They are just upset alone. Well, I am a believer in togetherness. If you want to happy together, then we can be pissed together.

This is a discussion that I had with a coworker who has been married about 4 times. He is currently dating a woman and said that he likes the idea that when they have a "blowout" she can go home. I said, "we don't go home." He admitted that even if she leaves "she calls, blowing my phone". He enjoys making her wait and hearing her break- going from angry, to not so mad, to kind of apologetic, to we need to talk and work this out. He found himself a good one because that is not how things would go down with me.

First of all, I am not leaving and giving you the chance to avoid me. I also would not date someone for four years, but that is not the point of this story at all. I told him story to illustrate my point.

When Husband and I first started dating, we got into a huge disagreement. He said, "I understand if you want to stop talking to me." I had to stop him there and let him in on how I get down. I told him, "I would not give him the satisfaction of not talking to him."

I advise all women to reconsider the folly of the Silent Treatment. You get an ulcer and he gets a night off.

That is it a good deal.

She Got Me Again

I have mentioned my relationship with my mother before. She somehow manages to be my biggest cheerleader and a most frustrating source of aggravation. Today is no different.

I am spending the night here because I have to get up at the butt crack of dawn to be at the orientation for my new job. Of course they made orientation ridiculously far from my house and to save my children from having to get up, I decided it was better for my them to keep their schedules by having my daughter wake up here at "Grandparent Day Care"and for my son to get dropped off at school by my mom at time when the sun is actually up.

All day I have been planning what I wanted to write about. I have tried out some ideas and none of them seemed quite right, but just now, I HAD IT! It came to me while is was in the shower and I rushed out to write it before I could forget. Those who know me know my ideas only last "one time around the bowl". As I get out the shower, my other starts in with questions that completely throw me off my game.

How long has he been coughing? He needs more medicine, but I have to get it from down stairs. It sounds almost like the whopping cough (it sounds nothing like Whopping Cough). Does the baby (who is already sleeping) need a night light on the bed next to her. Do you need an outlet? Can he have a bedtime story? Why don't you turn the bed down? What do you mean you don't know?

OMG! That is just the tip of the iceberg. She asked me so many questions in that 2 minute span that I can not for the life of me recapture my brilliant idea from the shower. I can't believe I went without lotion only to have her steal my thoughts. Now I am ashy and clueless. That is no good for anyone.

My only consolation is that she has let my son stay up past his bedtime because he has convinced her that her is on the brink of coming down with some medieval 18th century plague. That is going to
bite her in the butt when it is time to get up for school. She may be my mother, but I'm his and I know what she is in for tomorrow. She thinks that i am being cold and mean, but I know he is milking it for he benefit. He has put on quite the show tonight and tomorrow morning will be his encore. I'm glad I 
won't have to be here for that at least.

Although that show may have been worth the ash. (mother knows best my foot.)

Nostalgia

As I get ready to leave the one and only job that I have known since moving almost 7 years ago, I am starting to think about all the things that I will actually miss. It is like any breakup really. On e it is over, you start thinking about the "good" times.

I will admit that there have been some. I have made a few friends and they are what I will miss the most. It is honor of them that I write this post about all the things I will miss about my crew. I will list itin the order that I met them.

Cocoa- Yours was a welcome face upon my first steps into the office. My first thought was, "her hair is awesome." You being a touch of color was kind of misleading in terms of the rest of the office, but you provide enough flavor to cover up for most everyone else. Don't let that crazy get you down because she can only dream of being so fabulous.

JJ Santana- How can I ever hope to replace a friend who not only hums her own theme music, but is unashamed to admit to drunkenly downloading multiple versions of Supersonic. You are the inspiration for the I-tunes breathalyzer and I will never give you the satisfaction of losing touch.

Jigga- You are my constant inspiration to "Do Better". I appreciate that you are who you are and your stubborn refusal to be unhappy. Your real life is even better than those shows we watch. Keep me updated.

Seattle- You recommended me and hooked me up with the job that I am leaving and I still like you. I joke, but you are on of the best people I have met since crossing state lines and you are full of surprises. The best thing is that you look as sweet as a gap ad and yet find a way to be awesomely inappropriate and down to earth. You are on the birthday list for life.

Tresseme- You may be new, but I appreciate that you are man enough to admit that you may be douche. That says a lot and may have bought you a pass. Cutting to the point... Your hair is amazing and I will miss its shiny glory.

It may not be perfect, but they are the family that I have grown to love.

Questionable Status

The way things stand right now, I have to say that even I am questioning my status as a legal citizen. I have no Social and unlike the President, I have nothing that even looks like an original Certificate of Live Birth. I do have a valid driver's license, but it was given to me under shady circumstances. I handed in my old one and flashed a copy of my marriage license and got a license under a name that I could never prove I had. My passport is expired by almost a decade and I have no other state issued identification.

In short, I have absolutely NO proof that I am who I say I am. This would normally mean nothing to me seeing as though I have been living off the grid for quite some time now, but I recently got a new job and they have asked me for proof of my ability to work in this country. As a legally born citizen, this should not be a problem, but I have no proof that I am such a citizen and cannot get such proof in by Thursday, unless a call from my other will suffice. I doubt that is going to fly.

I went today to the SS office to apply for a new SSN card, but that will take 2 weeks. I am hoping that the receipt plus my "magic" marriage license will once again get me past the guards. I mean, does it really matter if I'm legal? Since they keep raising the age, I will probably not make it collect the Social Security they plan to take out anyway. I get benefits through Husband's job. Besides, if I were going to fake something, it would not be a girl from Queens with a questionable credit rating...or maybe I would as part of my ingenious plan. In a so stupid, it is genius kind of way.

I am just saying - Why all this fuss about proof?