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?
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Monday, September 24, 2012
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.
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.
Thursday, September 20, 2012
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.
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.
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
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.
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.
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
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.
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.
Monday, September 17, 2012
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.
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.
Thursday, September 13, 2012
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.
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.
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
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!
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!
Friday, September 7, 2012
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.
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.
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
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.
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.
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.
Monday, September 3, 2012
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.)
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.)
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