Mommy's Soapbox

Day 1 – I am not a victim!

2010-06-04T09:39:00.000-05:00

First official day of my adventure!! Wahoo!!!!

The room is the size of a matchbox but who cares. The bed is SOOOOO comfy that I slept like a baby. Very, very comfy pillows and a down comforter that was just the right weight to snuggle under. I’m going to head off to find some groceries….I’m a bit hungry this morning.

Well, continental breakfast in Manhattan apparently requires a mortgage payment….ok, not really but almost. $12.95 for a cup of coffee and a room temperature muffin? I DON’T THINK SO! No breakfast before I get picked up today….I’m nervous to wander too far in my short amount of time. I slept in until 8 am today, wahoo!

The guest lounge is on the 10^th floor, which is pretty cool and allows a really nice view of the top of the Empire State building. Photo will be attached when I can download from my camera. It’s funny to see plants and garden stuff on the top of roofs and to see stuff hanging on balconies. Guess you have to use the space you have, right? I have a greater understanding of the phrase “concrete world” that’s for sure!

Ok, closing down to go to the studio with almost all of my luggage. I’m sure the bellmen will think I’m nuts. Not checking out but hauling this much luggage around like a vagrant with a gigantic closet.

The studio is not what I imagined but yet it was. How can that be? I think it’s neat how a studio can be tucked inside a normal office building. Kind of like it is at work. Never would have known it was there.

Lots of people running around but all seem to know what they are doing – except me that is. LOL! I have my own little room and was even asked if I wanted someone to go get me some coffee. I’m currently waiting on Starbucks coffee and oatmeal….I could totally get used to this.

Feeling a little nervous but I guess that’s because I have no idea what is going on and what will happen today.

Today was crazy….and I can tell you this, I’ve spent more time in front of a mirror today than my entire life cumulatively! AND it was not, repeat, not, (did you get that?) NOT FUN. 360 mirror was not my friend but I didn’t expect it to be. Of course, I was hoping it would be more like those fun mirrors at the fair ~ LOL!

There was a lot of changing clothes in my little room with no curtain over the window to the surrounding buildings. Whew….that was a little uncomfortable! Anyway, I got over it and also did not pass out or require oxygen when I saw myself in the 360 mirror or when my new friends gave me a whole lot of grief over the clothes. Words like tomato and Smurf were used and I don’t mean in a good way! It was good though because I was able to laugh about all of it. Even managed an eye roll or two :-D I am thankful that I spent the time I did in the gym and with yoga class because 15 lbs ago it would have been MUCH worse!

I have learned that TV is a ton of doing things over and over and over again. Wonder how long before the novelty wears off and it starts wearing on my nerves? I’m not a huge fan of repetitive activities so my guess is tomorrow J

I understand why so many people here don’t have cars. It’s obviously an act of Congress to park so why bother. Another observation is that New Yorker’s don’t walk anywhere, they trot. Seriously. They walk at such a fast pace it can only be considered trotting because it’s not jogging but it sure isn’t walking like I do. I guess in the South, we stroll more. Look around, enjoy the scenery, talk to strangers on the street. Say something to someone here (even excuse me for bumping into them) and they look at you like you’re nuts. You’re psychotic if you smile at someone and you must be committed to the nut house if you hold the door and let someone go ahead of you. Oh and don’t bother commenting that a baby is cute….they look at you like you’re going to snatch the kid!

Got to go to Mario Batali’s restaurant Otto for dinner tonight…check it out http://www.ottopizzeria.com/ . Pretty cool atmosphere and interesting pizza. Not what I would have pictured of NY pizza but I think this is more “foo foo” pizza than real pizza. I’ll be trying pizza some place else I’m sure so I’ll let you know.

Had a drink and our waiter brought us some dessert liquer that was worse than cough syrup….he was so excited when my handler person (or whatever she’s titled) Emily told him I was going to be on the show. Not something I’m really into sharing with complete strangers but she did it, not me. So I choked down a swallow or two of this stuff and wondered how in the world I was going to live. LOL!

I’m going to go back a little and talk about my cab ride this morning with the maniacal middle eastern guy…can’t remember his name because I was pinned to the back of the seat and praying for my life while he flew down the streets. It’s a wonder more pedestrians aren’t creamed by cabs! HOLY COW! Cab drivers seem to know two speeds….full throttle and sudden, jarring stop. That’s it. No in- between. Oh, and there are tv screens in cabs now, can you believe that? Like anyone could watch TV while some nut case is flying around Manhattan trying to kill you. Didn’t even phase Emily. Matter of fact, she tried to film me while we were barreling down the road getting more air time than a TV Land rerun. Seriously….who the heck teaches these guys to drive? Mario Andretti? I think there should be a challenge between NASCAR drivers and NYC cab drivers. I’m not sure who would win.

Enough now, I’m going to go call my hubby and my babies and say goodnight.

Coming soon.......

2010-05-20T15:07:00.000-05:00

Day one of the adventure.....

....you'll have to wait!

Day Zero....a little late.

2010-05-18T12:14:00.005-05:00

Maggie’s Adventure– Day 0

May 9, 2010

It’s really difficult to start out my blog….so many different things I can start with. Not really sure which one to pick. So you’ll have to pardon me if I ramble and change directions somewhat erratically.

I am nervous. Not nervous excited…just plain nervous. I have literally not really thought about this whole adventure for more than 10 minutes at a time. That was to keep my nerves in check. Even while packing, re-packing, and re-repacking my wardrobe (yes, I do mean I had to pack it 3 times), I didn’t dwell on why I was doing what I was doing. Just shoved it out of my mind and mindlessly folded, hung, or rolled clothing while zoning out in front of the television. Now I can’t really do that.

So I’m going to reflect on how this whole crazy ride started.

Sometime in January or early February a friend of mine mentioned casually that WNTW was looking for some suckers, I mean, candidates in Nashville. Well, being the dork that I am, I told her I’d LOVE to have a make over. Well, that prompted two of my friends at work to nominate me. Now to tell you of these two friends will be to tell you of one new friend who has come into my life in the last year and one dear friend who has been through a lot with me over the last almost 7 years. These are true friends….or so I thought (ha ha ha). Well these lovely ladies sent in the nomination and apparently were contacted almost immediately as were my parents who live with my hubby and I. In secret for several weeks they plotted, planned, connived, sneaked, white-lied, and generally manipulated me into thinking life was just it’s normal everyday boring old set of events. Even my husband, who can’t lie to me about what he ate for lunch, was able to pull the wool over my eyes.

Not that there weren’t a few times that I come out of my daily fog and noticed something was….odd, different, or just not quite right. One instance was the movement of clothing in my closet. Not something many would notice but I’m a bit weird about some things….that being one. My clothes may appear to be hung with no rhyme or reason but alas, I know where my stuff is. And when I came home one evening and noticed things had been re-arranged and, even more oddly, there were things hanging that normally aren’t (work out clothes?), I suspected my loving mother was running around up there.

(Sudden break in topic, I’m sitting at the gate in Nashville airport waiting for my plane to arrive and THE MOST AWFUL pitched siren is going off and appears to be bothering no one but me…..dogs in Donelson are howling for sure! NOT what my nerves need)

Well Momma said she was just moving my clothes in preparation of the HVAC installation in her part of the house. Hmmm, okay, that sounds valid. But still…I told her to stay clear and not to re-arrange my clothes J Now I know that my two lovely friends (remember them?) had been there filming the “closet raid” for the show. Having since viewed some of that wonderful and oh so enlightening footage, I will share that words like vomit colored, “Jamakin’ me crazy” and one of my personal favorites, “this one is one hole short of a Snuggie” Thanks, new friend MQ…..I will get you back one day .

Currently on the plane which is the size of a sardine can and listening to my MP3 player (right now it’s playing Pearl Jam). Haven’t been on one this small since…..well, since my BFF and I used to fly home from Tally to Tampa. So I’m crammed in to the exit row cruising at a nice little altitude of 29k feet and to Philadelphia. I swear the pilot is following some river but my geography sucks so I have no idea if one even goes from Nashville that far north. Ha ha ha. Oh, and I’m sipping on tomato juice – my flying beverage of choice when not flying with BFF and drinking liquor.

Back to my story, so unbeknownst to me, my closet was raided and my parents were interviewed on camera. The hubby even got the treatment. He was nervous but managed to croak out a really nice bit (or at least what I saw of his interview was really, really nice and sweet). All without me figuring it out. My two lovely friends at work also managed to drag me all over midtown to help the folks at WNTW obtain the oh so attractive “secret” footage of me in my natural habitat……like I’m a zoo animal J A poorly dressed one but hey, I know that. For several weeks I was stalked so to speak by the lovely Mary. She even managed to get so close at Panera Bread (my FAV lunch spot) that she was right next to me! At Target there were some tense moments with a cart but I’m pretty sure she didn’t ram me or cut me off, I’d have noticed that! I think. But then again, I didn’t notice the head pop up over the top of shrubbery at Starbucks either so who knows. And (I’m telling on myself here) I bragged to my hubby after watching the show one night that I’d ‘know’ if someone was secretly taping me. My radar never went off for that one…LOL!

Well, in the midst of all this, behind the scenes a lot of people at my office were neck deep in the deception, my boss included. A team building exercise was organized in hopes of getting me to my ‘ambush’ site without my finding out. Hmmm, it worked but something triggered something in my head because that day, I was watching people differently and a lot of people were coming up to me to chat, ask how I was doing, and stopping by our little gaggle of girls in the lobby of our building. It struck me as odd but I pushed it out of my mind only to have it resurface when I arrived. I got jittery and nervous and couldn’t explain it. We arrive at “A Cowboy Town” in Whites Creek for some cowgirl team building, or so I thought. Joke was on me after what I now know for sure is a HUMILIATING stick barrel race and tug of war. Microphone pack was jammed in my butt crack for the “promo” video shoot for ACT and ironically, not down anyone else’s crack. Hmmm….jittery feelings abound. I suck it up and go forward with the race – feeling like a total D-O-R-K but hey, I’ve got 12 other women lookin’ stupid too so what do I care. Then the wonderful tug of war….first round, I was the anchor girl. Second round, I got moved up to the front of the line for my team (and I can’t remember what we were called…Buckaroo’s I think). No idea why but okay. Moments later, all Hades breaks loose. Horses galloping up, a wagon barreling towards us, and people scurrying everywhere. As I attempt to get out of the way and into the background, I’m seized, LITERALLY, on both sides by those fiends of fashion, Stacy and Clinton. Apparently, the look on my face said it all – WTH? My mind officially shut down and ceased working in the usual brainiac style that is my own. Me, the one who is rarely at a lose for words was completely bum-fuzzled. Shocked, awed, shaken, shaking, and generally a mental fruit salad.

My family (Mom, Dad, MIL, FIL, SIL, BIL, niece, nephew-to-be), close friends (J&DS) and my hubby’s partner in floor crimes were all there to witness the entire thing….from the point my Ariat Fat Baby boot hit the ground of my old stomping ground (yep, I used to hang out there when it was “Ramblin’ Breeze” and that is a whole other story) to the point my brain was ripped from my head by the crew of WNTW. They got to see the culmination of weeks of covert activity in action. I’m still amazed the family was able to keep it under wraps. Goes to show you how observant I am, right?

Well, they kicked everyone out but my hubby and my friend Dee. I am still not 100% sure why they shanghai’d Dee but I’m sure it will come to light. There were many hours of hanging out and doing nothing….some conversations on a wooden swing in the sunshine….some more conversations in a little room filled with café tables….and a couple two and a half hours of filming my reaction and S&C’s comments on the secret footage. I have not laughed so much in years, and at myself! OM! You never know how bad you look until you see yourself on camera. And one of the shots made me feel like such a big donkey butt, I wanted to crawl under my chair, curl into the fetal position and suck my thumb. However, being the intensely amusing, budding sarcastic queen that I am, I rallied and let my natural humor take over and save the day!

Now here comes the part of the day that I didn’t really expect – not that I expected any of it but hey…I’ve seen the show so I know SOME of what goes on. After that taping, I was shuttled off to do some more video taping of just me by myself answering some questions….some deep questions. Way too deep for fashion alone. Some of those questions really got almost psychologically deep and really made me think. Hard thing to do when your brain was ripped from your head by surprise some 4 to 5 hours earlier J I actually learned a thing or two about myself. Pretty neat.

Many have asked…so what are Stacy and Clinton like? Well, my first thought is tall. Not sure if that is accurate or not but I remember looking up at both of them on each side of me after my sunglasses were ripped off my face so my stunned expression could be seen even more clearly. Not sure what else to say there. Later, I can say they are funny and honestly appear to be genuinely concerned and willing to help. Not sure about my ability to honestly read people at this point but that was the impression I got. S has some cute shoes on….snake skin shoe boot type with obscenely high heels (that were destroyed from walking on gravel and mulch) with cut outs on the sides. C had on a vest….not really sure what else but he does have some impossibly blue eyes. Both are funny and really made it easy for me to rag on myself and laugh….despite their having taking a strong dislike to my Fat Baby boots. As Stacy called them, the morbidly obese infants. LOL! I told her I’d have to fight her for them but I’m going to only provide a token protest to losing them…..I know where to get more ;-)

There are a lot more little things I’d like to comment on but will refrain and return to the beginning of my actual trip to NYC now. The plane is still ridiculously small in my opinion for a flight to Philly buy, hey, what do I know? One guy is a Vandy football player with a ring that weighs as much as my daughter and the guy sitting next to me (who is the size of the rock guy in the Fabulous Four) plays rugby.

The nervousness is fading somewhat. Probably lulled by the white noise of the airplane engines and the music in my ears. I guess I’m just freaked because I’ve never really been anywhere new alone. I’ve always traveled with a friend or with my hubby. And it’s been a long time since any of that was done. Now here I am headed to NYC to meet someone holding a little card with my name on it with six pieces of luggage holding all my clothes and shoes. Then it’s on to the hotel to meet another person who I can’t remember but says I was introduced on the ambush day. Normally, no big deal on a one-on-one scale but add this up along with leaving my kids for a week and you have ONE BIG BALL OF NERVOUS MAGGIE! I’m worried about the kids, not their care but them missing me; worried about lost luggage; worried about getting lost/left in NYC; worried I’ll be sick the rest of the week (sore throat right now), worried about the slight water damage at my house, worried I’ll drop dead of exhaustion half way through the first day of shopping, and worst of all, worried I will positively, utterly and completely make a fool of myself on television….where it can and will be repeated. Ugh.

Ok, I’m guessing we’re getting close to Philly so I’m going to close out for now. I’ll add something else when I get into NYC. At least my first reaction to the city.

Keep your fingers crossed ~ that I don’t look too obviously stupid and can find sweet tea ;-)

I’m in Philly and stuck. At least temporarily stuck. Got here on time, good landing, etc. Got to my connection and OM. It’s a toy sized plane with propellers. HOLY COW! It’s not possible for the darn thing to get much smaller and NOT be sitting in my son’s room. Regardless, I get on the plane, wolf down a slice of pizza and boom…..pilot comes on and tells us we are now delayed and to get our stuff and get off the plane. High winds have closed LaGuardia and we’re delayed at least one hour and a half. Possibly two hours.

AND I have no internet stick so I can’t post my blog-venture. Here I sit in the Philadelphia airport which badly needs some updating waiting for who knows how long to fly on the equivalent of a toy airplane into a very large city where there are high winds…and I’m in the exit row (which is pretty much all rows in this plane LOL). Hmmm, not making me feel warm and fuzzy. Oh, and the closest bar is on the other side of the airport and they don’t recommend I stray that far. Harumph. I’m forced to make due with Extra Strength Tylenol Rapid Release gels and a Pepsi. I will be having an adult beverage when I get to NYC…even if it is tomorrow morning.

FINALLY got here…..it’s midnight and I’m toast. I am forgoing the adult beverage in favor of sleep. I’m glad to have all of my luggage here and not lost. I was concerned about that since I had so many pieces to lose. The next concern was finding the driver…not such a bad thing since (DUH, Maggie) he had a sign. So we loaded up all my stuff and headed to Manhattan. Not a taxi, a black Lincoln. All I could think was Sex and the City! My driver was from Nigeria but had been here for almost 12 years. Certainly long enough for him to learn to drive like a lunatic!

My first impression of NYC from the plane was “wow look at all the lights.” It didn’t really change much after that but then, I am so tired, who cares.

The hotel is cool…very modern and swanky. My room is the size of my closet at home and 1/3 of my bathroom but who cares because I’m here and won’t be in my room much. Bed appears comfy so I’m signing off and giving it a try J

Oh, and my window shows a view…..wait for it….of a brick wall and if I crane my neck, I can see some HVAC ductwork. LOL!

I’m being picked up tomorrow at 9:30 am so I’m sleeping in, wahoo!

More later but I don't know when...no internet in my room :-( Boo hiss!

The Adventure is Approaching!

2010-05-05T12:51:00.003-05:00

Just wanted to let everyone know I am going to attempt to post daily updates during my What Not To Wear adventure in NYC.

NOT PROMISING....just hoping I have the energy left to document some of the fun.

And of course, I have to make sure they are okay with it. You won't get any photos, that is for sure, but I'm hoping I can at least capture some of the other fun.

I'll be off to re-pack my wardrobe for the 4th time tonight. I am now carrying it with me on the plane.

I may also post how my WNTW adventure began....if I have time.

2009-11-18T12:21:00.002-06:00

I decided it was past time to revisit an old blog topic....smoke breaks.

This is not a slam against smoker's for smoking. It's more of a slam against employers. Each employee gets the allotted am break, lunch break, and pm break. Whether or not we take them is our decision. Most of us don't take "am and pm breaks" per se, we just squeeze in a personal call or email or quick personal email check throughout the day so no big deal. It all works out in the end.

That being said, have you ever had a co-worker who smokes? If so, think about how many times he or she goes out for a ciggy.....no, really think about it. 4 times a day? 5 times a day? Well, for sake of argument, I'm going with 4 times a day and not counting smoking during lunch. These addicted coworkers will pass you in the hall as they head to the designated "smoking spot," smiling and anticipating the forthcoming cancer stick.

Invariably, you will get stuck in the elevator with one (or God forbid, more than one) who is returning from the scene of the crime REEKING of cigarette smoke. Gagging you the entire ride up to your office. Making you wish you had a can of Lysol or Oust or even an oxygen tank and mask. Sometimes it makes me wish I had something heavy to beat them over the head with but alas, that's my issue.

But seriously, let's break this down. There are eight hours in a "normal" work day, right? Most of us rarely give more than that to the boss-man so admit it. It's just a straight 8. So when your co-worker takes 4 smoke breaks a day at 10 minutes per break, that's 40 minutes per day. Hmmm, in addition to an hour for lunch. Okay....now you're starting to think about this.

Let's go a step further. That equates to 3.33 hours per week. Starting to add up, isn't it? How does 14.44 hours per month strike you? 173.33 hours per year and a total of 21.67 days per year that smoking co-workers get that non-smokers do not. 21.67 days per year? I'm going to round that to 21.5 for kicks. What would you do with an additional 21.5 days off per year if you could have them? I know I'd be happy to take every other Friday off for 10 months and still have an extra day and a half to play with. Heck, I'd go one step further and take all 21.5 days at one time and add a few of my existing vacation days to it to take a month off during the summer. I may go stir crazy at home with the kids but heck, I'm "smoking" so who cares!

When you work 260 days in a year and have a puffing co-worker who takes those little 10 minute "quick" smoke breaks that add up to his or her only working 238.33 days a year, you begin to wonder if you missed the bus. Yes, you know smoking isn't good for your health and (personally) is absolutely disgusting but these people are on to something here. They are not working as much as you are but they get paid for the same work week that you do.

Hmmmmm, now you're starting to become indignant and looking around your office wildly trying to spy one of those smokers so you can go bop him/her over the head with a heavy binder...or better yet, randomly start to perform little acts of chaos at his or her desk. You really want to something stuck in your craw? Imagine if said smoke stack took 15 minutes for a smoke break.....5 minutes goes to actually going down to (and back up from) the designated "Give Me Cancer, Please" area while the other 10 minutes is puffing away life while catching up on office gossip. Let's do the math. 15 minutes per cigarette and smoking 4 cigarettes during working hours (again, not counting lunch) is a total of 60 minutes per day. Yep, that's right. One full hour of your stinky little co-worker's day is spent puffing away. That's 5 hours a week, 21.67 hours per month, and 260 hours a year. A total of 32.5 days in one year that cigarettes liberated your co-worker.

Am I crazy not to wonder why HR departments haven't noticed this or done the math themselves? Are they also sitting in the "smokers lounge" puffing away? What about management who is constantly striving to get more work out of less people? Do they not realize how much time is lost for each employee who smokes? If they look at it in hours and assign a dollar value, perhaps a few jobs would be saved.

So here I sit, a non-smoker who is missing out on an extra 21.5 or 32.5 days of "smoke breaks" who is beginning to wonder if I should start taking them...minus the cancer stick, of course. Better yet, I'll take mine in lump sums. Hours, days or weeks, doesn't matter to me. Just give me equality with my smoldering co-workers. I bet if employers started doing that, a lot less people would be smoking! Maybe so, maybe not but I can tell you this, I'd be happy. I wouldn't even grimace and wave my hand in front of my face when confronted with stinky smokers. Ick. Heck, I might even go buy a co-worker a pack and say thanks!

I can't believe it!

2009-05-18T15:35:00.007-05:00

Not only is Tater playing baseball...see the "team photo" before our first game on April 11th.

...he's graduated from Kindergarten!

Can you believe it? As of today (last day of school and a "play" day), he's a First Grader! OH MY!

The program was adorable and I'm going to post his speaking part (or try to post it).

The whole program was too cute but I especially loved seeing him so happy with his cap and gown on...but (believe it or not) I didn't cry! Didn't even really come close.

My Pepper - Continued

2009-05-12T10:56:00.002-05:00

I've been trying to figure out just what to say about Pepper. Beside the fact she was positively the BEST dog anyone could ever ask for, she was always the most loving and spirited friend any dog owner could wish to have.

When she was a puppy at the vet (if you don't remember, she was a rescue by Dr. Pelletier at Goodlettsville Animal Hospital) and ugly and stinky, she had so much life in her eyes. Mange and malnutrition did nothing to the spirit of this dog. God had plans for her and she knew it. God had me in mind as her dog mom and what a blessing He gave me! When I first met her, she had almost no hair and smelled horrible due to the mange treatment. However, she had those sweet little curls at the tip of her ears that remained until her parting (and still do in Heaven!) and the brightest eyes I have ever seen on any animal. It took me all of about 20 seconds of playing with her to decide I was hers. I got to take her home a couple weeks later....Valentine's Day 1998. It was a rough time for me and she was exactly what I needed. It only took me a week to teach her to sit and a bit longer to potty train her but alas, it was still easy since she was so smart.

We had our share of "issues" to say the least and there were some bumpy times but we were meant to be together and that was that. I wish she hadn't been "meant" to potty on my bed (twice) but hey, that's what happens when Mommy doesn't wake up in time!!!! Oh well, I needed a new mattress anyway. One thing we never had a problem with was chewing - she LOVED rawhide bones....give her one and forget about her because she would gnaw until it was gone.

She adored going to "The Ranch" with me and would run like mad, play in the creek, chase horses, chase dogs, and follow me around the trail. She'd keep going until I finally had to load her into the car (on a blanket to save my upholstery) where she would curl up in a tight little ball and doze until we got home. Once home, she ate and passed out....for at least 36 hours. No kidding. If I took her out there on Sunday, she was rested by Tuesday afternoon.

Once I married, she adjusted well to having a "dad" which was cool but you could tell, she was my dog through and through. We moved to Robertson County and she entered "dog heaven" as she no longer had to live in a dog kennel during working hours. She was allowed to hang out on the porch or run around the acreage. She loved it! Well, until we brought Doc home, then she got her tail in a knot for a while. When he was a puppy, we would toss them outside to go potty and she'd lead him off into the woods at the back of our property. I'd find her sitting at the sliding glass doors looking guilty with Doc no where to be found. She didn't want that puppy around and had left him! I can't remember how many times DH had to put on his boots and go hunt for the pup. I honestly wish I had captured the look on her face the last time she tried to leave Doc behind...and he showed up seconds later at the door with her. To say she was disgruntled would be an understatement! They soon became close companions and had an unspoken (at least in human language) division of labor. Pepper was responsible for the area around the house. She would "patrol" the perimeter of our property and go visit occasionally but her area was the house and immediate yard. Doc was in charge of the perimeter...sounds very military but it worked for them. If it happened in a pasture, Doc was there. Pepper watched from the porch or edge of the yard. If someone came down the driveway, Pepper was all over them until she caught their scent and knew it was okay.

Most people are concerned when they have children that their pets will have negative reactions. Not so for me and Pepper. I knew she'd be great with a baby and indeed she was! She would come in the house and lay near Tater's bassinet, under his swing, or under his high chair whenever she got a chance. Same thing when Sweet Tater arrived. I have pictures of both kids sitting on her as well. Ears were pulled, tail was yanked, and she was pounced on, pummelled, and pounded more than any one else in the family...except perhaps me when they were still "baking." When Sweet Tater came along, Pepper was older but still so easy with her. Even the last few weeks when ST would drag her around by the ears or try to "feed" her plastic food, Pepper was patient and loving. She'd just look at me and say with her eyes "Seriously? Can you do something here?"

If I ever felt down or was in need of unconditional love, she was there at my feet without being called. It was just that easy. No matter how bad a day I had or how terrible things looked, she was there with bright eyes and curls at the tips of her ears. I'll always miss that and I'll always miss the way she'd move her head just so until my hand sat on top of it...then she'd sigh.

More memories keep coming to mind....funny, touching, and a little annoying (eating my screen door)....but these are memories I will always have to hold on to just like I have the knowledge that she's wrestling with Doc in Heaven with her fuzzy dog butt in the air and tail wagging madly. Shelby's watching from the top of a recliner and so are my human loved ones who have passed. All have met her now and love her....just like I always will.

My Pepper

2009-05-06T13:30:00.003-05:00

Many of you know that I recently had to say goodbye to my very best canine friend, Pepper. I want to post a tribute to her but can't quite bring myself to do it yet. For now, enjoy this picture and send me a memory you may have of her.

Tooth Fairy

2009-03-18T16:04:00.003-05:00

I am a little sad as I write this. My little baby boy lost his first tooth last week. Specifically on Thursday, March 12th about 4 pm.

When he last went to the dentist, she told him he was beginning to get big boy teeth. She told DH that he had about 4 loose teeth, possibly 5. Well, when the first one got good and wiggly, we had a tearful episode where he convinced himself all of his teeth would fall out of his head (while he slept of course) and he would lose them. Well, it took both DH and me to convince him it was okay and the next day I set out to sew up a tooth pillow to deposit said precious tooth until that flightly little fairie stopped by and deposited some shiny treasure.

Let me preface this by saying I had a self-made tooth pillow myself when I was his age. Sewed it in Kindergarten and it was the most ugly mis-shapen heart you've ever seen. My mother is convinced I have it, but I know I don't because with something that ugly, you put it in a secret spot where NO ONE can find it :-) Well, I decided to make Tater his very own tooth pillow and it turned out pretty cute. Looks a lot like a big red dot....an easy button....or a stuffed M&M. I put a white pocket on the side and embroidered (not really well and with thread) a "T" on it.

I'm guessing the tooth fairy liked it because she left Tater 5 brand new shiny gold $1 coins...because your first tooth is worth that much these days (economy be darned) and because she doesn't carry bills.

So here's a picture of my new toothless wonder....

and never to be outdone... my other little ham....Sweet Tater! She had to have her picture made too!

See you later!!!

Sock Drama

2009-03-17T13:48:00.002-05:00

If anyone has any suggestions on dealing with "sock drama" PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, I'm begging you, send them to me!

Every single time Tater puts on a sock is a HUGE ordeal. Seriously, seamless socks have knots in them and he has cut holes in more socks than Krispy Kreme's made doughnuts in the last hour.

ANY suggestions would be appreciated. My grasp of sanity is tenous at the moment and I need your help :-)

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

It's official....I've done it.

2009-03-09T14:04:00.002-05:00

Just call me "Team Mom" because I've joined the ranks of little league moms everywhere. I'm already sunburned and we've only had 2 practices! I had no idea what I did when I checked the box, believe me.

I signed Tater up for baseball at our local Dixie Youth Baseball League last week and we had the first practice on Friday an our second on Saturday. All I can say is adorable! Watching these little kids run bases and learn about baseball is too sweet. The coach, well, he's coached for quite a while now but hasn't coached 5 & 6 year olds in a while. DH and I had to laugh several times because of some things he said. First giggle was when he said he was only going to be nice for the first practice. After that if they weren't paying attention, they'd run the fence. He also told the kids if they played in the dirt, they'd run the fence. I couldn't help but laugh at that one. Put a 5 year old in outfield and expect more than 2 minutes (if you're lucky) of attention and you're expecting the stimulus package to significantly increase your take home pay. NOT!

The biggest laugh we got was when he asked the kids if there was an "I" in team. After blank stares, he spelled it "t-e-a-m" and asked again if there was an "i" in it. All the kids looked kind of like deer in headlights until one muttered, "yes?" These kids are just learning letters and such, some aren't even reading yet. I elbowed DH and we both almost had tears running down our cheeks from that one.

He runs the team well enough, I suppose. The kids listen and respond well to him so I'm all for it. As for Tater, he actually told his daddy to come sit next to me because he and his coach were handling it. GASP! I'm still chuckling over that one! I just hope he realizes it's more important to be a team and have fun than to win all the time.

Tater is in heaven and loves going to practice. We finally bought him cleats and he's distraught that he can't wear them at all times (DH threatened to hang him by his cleats if he scratches the hardwood floors!). I imagine before all this is over, we'll have a die hard baseball buddy in our midst. So every Tuesday and Friday at 6 pm and every Saturday at 11 am, you'll find DH and me at the ball field a couple miles from our house. We'll roast through June and see how this goes. Stay tuned for pictures....no clue when that will be.

They just don't get it.

2009-02-20T11:59:00.001-06:00

In corporate America there is an overabundance of people who just don't get it. They have absolutely no idea (an no desire to know) what it's like for a person with young children. Some don't have kids so they have no clue. Heck, some of those don't even like kids so it's easy to sneer at those of us who do. Some have older kids and thus have forgotten those days when they were young and caught EVERYTHING that came near them illness wise. Others have those "stay-at-home" mommies who play tennis at the country club and take their kids to play groups or mother's day out while they get their nails done. A smaller sect has a nanny to deal with the unpleasantries of sick children.

Alas, I'm a middle class mom who has a self employed husband and unfortunately, I'm not independently wealthy. I have to artfully balance being a good mother with being a good employee. A daunting task when faced with those listed above. So when I have a sick child I must choose between being the good parent and being the shitty (wait, did I say that?) poor one and dumping my sick kid on someone else. Hmm, well let's see. I didn't procreate for someone else to have the responsiblity for my child(ren) or to pick and choose the moments I will partake in. I did it because I wanted to share my life and my love with more than just my husband. My children are my joy and my legacy so I put them first. Shockingly before my job....my JOB...not my career because being an admin is no career. Despite that being my "foot in the door" with this company but that's another LONG blog about glass ceilings and ridiculous preconceived points of view.

I think that a sick child needs a parent. More often than not, that parent is Mommy. Why? Because we have a built in "comfort mode" that children cling to when they don't feel good. So now I have to choose between making some uptight, self centered person who doesn't give a rat's behind about me or my kids happy and being at work or being at home and taking care of a toddler who feels icky and doesn't know how to tell me where it hurts. A little baby girl who spent almost 12 hours vomiting and is rung out like a wet rag. What's the choice in that? There is none. My children take precedence over everything else....EVERYTHING.

So here's a note for all the uptight, self centered, nose-looking-downer's out there who want to pass judgement on a woman for being a good mother and missing work to care for a sick child. I'd like to see you do everything a working mom does and still walk upright. I'm sure you go home and sit in your comfortable chair in front of the evening news while your wife prepares your dinner or opens the take out containers. Meanwhile I'm up to my ears in my first job - being a mom, after busting my buns at my second job - dealing with grown up children for 8+ hours (I say + because I end up missing lunch most of the time to take care of crap for you!). BITE ME.

Fourth Photo

2009-02-11T12:14:00.002-06:00

Mills (a.k.a. Henry's Mommy) tagged me for 4th photo. You have to post the 4th picture in your 4th folder. No exceptions! Then you tag 4 people and the person who tagged you.

So here it is :

Tater and Sweet Tater (whom I've now started calling Pecan) holding a wrestling match. She wins usually.....she sits on her brother!

So now I'm tagging Jennifer, Ashley, Kelly B, and Helen.

Christmas Craziness

2008-12-31T13:47:00.004-06:00

Christmas was a crazy time as usual. This year was especially nutty since the entire month of December snuck up on me out of no where. Add to that being busy at work and trying to prepare for my parents arrival. They made it up by mid-month and are now here to stay. That story will evolve in the next few months.

Sweet Tater didn't follow the tradition of rising early to see all the loot Santa left. She didn't get up until almost 8:30! DH kept wanting me to wake her up but there is no way I'll wake up a sleeping baby unless there is a threat to life or limb. Especially knowing nap time will be almost non-existant later the same day. When she finally woke up and decided to greet us all, she sat snuggled in my lap for a few minutes as she surveyed the Thomas destruction of toy opening. She quickly woke up and dove in to the paper and boxes scattered around the room. We managed to direct her attention to her own gifts and we had a bit of fun coaxing her to open things.

Tater had a wonderful Christmas. He didn't ask Santa for much. Just a school watch, Screamin' Banshee, and a remote control airplane. Santa took care of him and then some so it was so cute watching him discover things throughout the room and in his "Santa area" as well as in his stocking. He woke up at about 6:15 am and found his Caterpillar remote controlled crane....Grampa got to be the first person told....as he attempted to go into the bathroom!

My Christmas presents came a bit early. I found a listing online for some working cattle dogs in Franklin. After some sleuthing and emailing with the owner, I asked DH if we could go look. He agreed after looking at the photos so we piled up on a frigid Sunday and headed out on a family puppy adventure. That being said I am now the proud new owner of 2 litter mates from a Border Collie (75%) and Blue Heeler (25%) match. Daddy was a full Border Collie and Mom was half Border and half Blue Heeler. There were eight in the litter but only six to choose from when we arrived. DH immediately picked the runt of the litter (female white with a few black markings) and left me alone in the middle of the pile with an owner telling me to take them all. After 30 minutes I couldn't decide so I made DH choose from my "narrowed" list of 3. He picked a traditional marked male with speckles on his nose and paws. DH named them Bonnie and Clyde - he was thinking of cute names for a pair of puppies while we drove down to see them.

So, Bonnie and Clyde have come to join our nutty little farm bringing our count to 3 dogs, 3 goats, 2 horses, 2 cats, and six chickens. Oh, and as of Christmas Eve, one tame rabbit which WILL BE sent to a new home as soon as one can be found (hint hint hint).

I hope everyone has a safe and happy New Year's Eve and don't forget to make those resolutions good ones!

Blah blah blog

2008-12-31T08:20:00.002-06:00

Well, by now you've figured out that I stink as a blogger. I mean, if I didn't have two kids, a husband, various animals, and a full time job, I'd be a great blogger. Stupendous. A literary genius. But alas, there are times when priorities must be rearranged and blogging ends up on the bottom of the looooonnnnnnnnnnggggggggggg list of to-do's.

So here I sit and say that I'm debating about a New Year's Resolution to blog at least weekly. Debating...not committing. Remember that.

More later. I'm going to go write something witty and wonderful about Christmas and come back later to post it with pictures.

(Don't hold your breath but check back later!)

So hard to say goodbye....

2008-11-03T14:49:00.003-06:00

Many of you who will read this already know of the loss of a very important member of my family. On Saturday, we had to make the decision to let Doc go to a better place instead of putting him through at least one perhaps more surgeries that stood a strong chance of not working at all. So mid-day Saturday we said farewell to our 9-year-old Blue Heeler, Doc. He’s buried on the edge of the pasture and the woods so he can forever keep an eye on the horses and watch the rabbits, turkey and deer. Words cannot truly express the feelings we have but I want to take a stab at it.

Doc joined our family as a puppy and what a lively puppy he was! He was born in a barn in Greenbrier, TN as one of four puppies in the litter. At the time he was the “runt’ of the litter and seemed to be destined to be small. Not so. He turned out to be the closest likeness to his dad, Murph, as any of the four.

Pepper wasn’t so very happy to have a puppy around the house but being the fabulous queen bee that she is, she tolerated him….and tried to take him out and lose him in the woods! She would go on her “rounds” early in the morning with Doc trailing behind her on his little puppy legs. Ironically, she never went too far or too fast when she was heading away from the house. A short time later, she’d be sitting on the back porch looking in the sliding doors with a guilty expression and Doc was nowhere to be found. Many times, Maurice would set out to find the missing puppy and would always hear a little puppy bark as he walked. Eventually, he caught up with a tired Doc and they came back home. This continued for months until Doc got big enough and strong enough and smart enough that she couldn’t “lose” him anymore. I remember that day because the expression on her face was resigned disgust. Don’t get me wrong, she was great with him. Very maternal and affectionate. Also took plenty of time to teach him right from wrong….and manners. She never did teach him not to pee on tires but hey, a dog’s gotta do what a dog’s gotta do, right?

Doc had his fair share of mis-adventures:

· He was lost for 3 days when I was 7 months pregnant with Thomas. He turned out to be about a mile away but somehow got disoriented and couldn’t find his home scent. We found him covered in poop from the barn he’d been hiding in and scared to death. At first he didn’t recognize Maurice but when he did, you could almost hear “Daddy!” as he plowed into and knocked Maurice down.

· He made a few bad choices when it came to chickens….sometimes instinct just had to kick in and he needed to catch one…or two…or ten. Not sure on that one.

· He was notorious for harassing Henry, the donkey. Not quite quick enough once and ended up almost losing his tail. Big vet bill, lots of stitches and a couple scar tissue lumps on his fanny didn’t serve to remind him of much. He was back at it every chance he got.

· He seemed to like to be brained occasionally by the horses. We know that he took at least 2 hoofs to the head if not more. Caused the occasional seizure but seemingly went away.

· He was such a good-looking dog that was one solid bit of muscle that a previous vet wanted to buy him from us. NOT HAPPENING! He could always make them smile.

· He was not a fan of truck rides – inside or in the back. Jumped out going about 30 mph at least once. No injuries there but we learned our lesson…Doc in the car, not in the back. He also felt the need to ride in the baby’s car seat a time or two.

· He got to spend a week as the concubine of a Red Heeler named Wendy and hang out with her family at the Rustic Ranch Furniture Company in Goodlettsville. We were hoping for a little red Doc but we were not so lucky. It is rather ironic that we found out about another liaison with a female about a ¼ mile away that resulted in some rather interesting looking puppies so his legacy will live on…just unofficially and a bit watered down.

· Doc was a scrapper to be sure. He tussled with a few dogs in his time but mostly just coyotes. He was not one to back down from a fight and if he was defending his place, he was fierce! It’s that fierceness that ended up causing this situation that resulted in his early demise. We will never know for sure what or how many animals were involved but coyotes seem to be the most likely to inflict the amount of damage that was done.

Overall I will happily say that he was one of the two best dogs I’ve ever had and will ever have. Pepper being my best ever dog but I’m keeping her as long as I can. Doc was a loving and loyal companion with so much heart and soul that he would do anything for us. So here are a few words by others to ease our loss of Doc.

~~~~~~~~~~~~
Konrad Lorenz, the great expert on animal behavior, said: "It is one of the cruelties of this world that the longevity of our dogs is shorter than ours." The reason behind this great sadness is that there is no another living animal that is so similar to us, that treats us with great affection, never betrays us, and loves us unconditionally.

~~~~~~~~~~~~
Almighty God,We were fortunate to receive the gift of Doc from YouNow that he has left this life,please help us cope with our loss with strength and courage.I know that our beloved companion no longer suffers,and will live on in many fond memories.May he be treated with the care and respectAs he has enriched our lifes, we pray that we may enrich the lives of others. Amen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
HEAVEN'S DOGGY-DOOR
My best friend closed his eyes last night,

As his head was in my hand.

The Doctors said he was in pain,

And it was hard for him to stand.
The thoughts that scurried through my head,

As I cradled him in my arms.

Were of his younger, puppy years,

And OH...his many charms.
Today, there was no gentle nudge

With an intense "I love you” gaze,

Only a heart that’s filled with tears

Remembering our joy filled days.
But an Angel just appeared to me,

And he said, "You should cry no more,

GOD also loves our canine friends,

HE's installed a 'doggy-door"!
jan cooper '95

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A Parting Prayer
Dear Lord, please open your gatesand call St. Francisto come escort this beloved companionacross the Rainbow Bridge.Assign him to a place of honor,for he has been a faithful servantand has always done his best to please me.Bless the hands that send him to you,for they are doing so in love and compassion,freeing him from pain and suffering.Grant me the strength not to dwell on my loss.Help me remember the details of his lifewith the love he has shown me.And grant me the courage to honor himby sharing those memories with others.Let him remember me as welland let him know that I will always love him.And when it's my time to pass over into your paradise,please allow him to accompany thosewho will bring me home.Thank you, Lord,for the gift of his companionshipand for the time we've had together.And thank you, Lord,for granting me the strengthto give him to you now.Amen.

Bye buddy...we love you and we miss you! ALWAYS!

So many photos....

2008-10-08T20:04:00.003-05:00

....so little time to do anything with them.

I've have several online photo accounts that have given me free photos, free calendars, free cards, and free photo books but no time to do anything with them. I've uploaded bunches of photos and started looking around at the different sites and what I can create and do...but it's just kinda difficult when I have a total of 5 - 10 minutes to do anything without the interruption of work or kids or spouse.

So...slight change in subject but hang with me here, it will come back around.

I'm starting to begin the "Christmas Gift Planning Process" that begins each year around the time the leaves start to turn and the air gets just a little crisp. I can't help it. I'm a planner by nature...I plan nearly everything. I create a budget for gift giving, for a holiday party, and for "school" treats. I then create a spreadsheet of gift giving and get detailed...who we are giving gifts to, ideas for gifts, and the amount of money to be spent. Didn't know I was so "Type A" did you? Well, the process has begun and (here's where things come back around) I'm thinking some photo type gifts will be coming if I can get my behind in gear!

Any suggestions on which sites are the easiest to work with regarding creating?

Keep your fingers crossed....I'm going to be checking my list! Ha ha ha!!

Ever bumped your head?

2008-09-16T12:27:00.002-05:00

I'm climbing up on my soapbox to quickly address something that has just stuck in my craw.

Have you ever bumped your head on the "glass ceiling"?

Well, I'm here to tell you it seems I've been doing it for so long now, my head should be flat or should have rolled off by now.

I'm so tired of having limited options because of my current circumstances. Seriously, when you look at things like ability, education, initiative and work ethic, there is no reason why I'm not as good as just about anyone else!

Aargh!

Don't even get me started on people's preconceived notions either.....

I've got to end my "mini-post" before I get too angry and lose my "Ms. Positive Pants" attitude for the day.

I'm climbing off my soapbox now...temporarily.

Wow! Wireless Internet...how cool!

2008-09-06T20:35:00.002-05:00

Well, I've finally made the leap into wireless internet at "Ye Ole Casa" and OH MY! I'm loving it already! Not really loving the monthly cost but I may actually get more posts on my blog and more pictures on myspace and facebook!

Wahoo!

I'm a Verizon fan all the way, now.

C U L8TR!

Seriously?

2008-09-03T15:56:00.002-05:00

What the heck is it about men that makes them so darn infuriating? THEY DON'T EVER LISTEN! You can be in front of a man and speaking and he has no clue that sound is coming from your mouth.

My boss just turned and walked away from me while I was talking to him as if he didn't even hear me. I almost went "Mommy" on him and called him back!

Aarrggghhhh!

I'm baaaccckkkk!

2008-09-02T13:15:00.002-05:00

I have been remiss in my duties as a blogger. I admit it. Unfortunately, I have spent so much mental energy at my day job that there is little left over for much more than dinner preparation and some QT with my Tater and Sweet Tater. ~sigh~ To be independently wealthy….and have the chance to pursue my dreams….perhaps one day. For now, I’ll update you on the World According to Me.

Tater is approaching his 5th birthday…I can’t believe it. It seems like only yesterday I was wondering what the heck to do with the little burrito with peach fuzz. Seriously, where did the time go? One day I’m neck deep in diapers, wipes, formula, and little boy clothes. Then, in the blink of an eye, my little boys sweet little baby feet started to stink, he got very independent, and decided his favorite place to be was in his daddy’s back pocket. Hmmm, wonder if I toss him in the dryer and shrink him, if he’ll stay little forever?

Wrong.

He started “BIG SCHOOL” a couple weeks ago and I have to say, I handled it with the grace and charm that any Southern woman would hope to achieve in the face of great personal milestones. I did not cry. I’m not kidding. I was prepared to and even felt a little odd that I didn’t. I took some photos of him in his school uniform (nothing too rigid…just khaki’s and a polo shirt) with his back pack and then we were off. To maintain some sort of normalcy, he and Sweet Tater rode with Daddy, like they do every other day. I followed behind….or rather in front because Daddy didn’t know where he was going. Not kidding here either. We dropped Sweet Tater at her daycare first (more about that in a minute) and then headed to BIG SCHOOL for the drama. Well, there was very little drama…his teacher must be an Angel from Above because within a few short minutes, he was playing cars and we were on our way. Now, don’t think for one minute that all is rosy and cheerful in the land of Tater….we’re having some “issues” with behavior and the adjustment thus far has been a bit rocky. He’s smart enough for Kindergarten but not quite there yet maturity wise. Here’s hoping something changes on the 13th of this month when he turns 5. School work appears easy for him at this point and both DH and I are very hands on with him which makes me happy. Harvard, here he comes!

Sweet Tater has been my little constant in the last few weeks. She’s constantly eating, constantly teething, constantly drooling, constantly snotting, and constantly smiling. I can’t say enough how God has blessed me with not one but TWO absolutely wonderful blessings disguised as little people. No matter how awful my day is at work, no matter how I long to hide in a tub full of hot steamy scented water, I would not trade one single thing for one of the looks I get from Sweet Tater when she sees me at the door of her classroom. I am THE QUEEN and I hung the moon, stars, and sun. Wait, it gets better, she toddles over to me and I get a big huge hug from her. If you have never experienced the hug of a toddler, I encourage you to go borrow a friends child or volunteer where there are small children. Sweet doesn’t begin to cover it. She may not be able to reach her arms around more than my leg or my neck but the wealth of love and joy in those chubby little arms could easily stretch around the world….10x.

So Tater started BIG SCHOOL and thus, Sweet Tater had to be relocated so Mommy didn’t end up feeding the kids dinner while driving each day. Her new daycare is about a mile away from Tater’s school and appears to be a wonderful place. I don’t have much experience with daycares…really one this one and one other but I’m content. She’s happy, she’s learning, she’s cleaner than she stays at home (seriously, she’s changed whenever she gets a speck of dirt on her clothes…makes me feel inadequate as a housekeeper/mom), and she’s snuggled a lot. Add to that, we have a shorter drive home and I’m saving money…it’s pretty cool so far. Here’s the kicker….I didn’t cry when Tater went off to Kindergarten but I almost lost it not once, but twice after dropping Sweet Tater at her new daycare. Thank heavens I can call anytime to check on her. I managed to only pick up the phone about a dozen times the first 2 days…only actually called 2x each day the first day and once the second. I’m getting there.

It’s been another adjustment period to the new routine here but I think I’m getting along pretty well so far. Still debating about a few things but so far, so good. No major meltdowns…except when Sweet Tater feels that her dinner should be delivered 5 minutes or less after seeing me at the door of her classroom. One small hiccup with that but I believe I’ve solved that….snacks in the car now to make the FIFTEEN minute ride home more tolerable. She won’t fade away to nothing in those minutes and I actually have a small window of opportunity to get the two unloaded at home, in the house, and dinner started before she realizes she’s been fooled and that wasn’t dinner. Milk helps too buy me a bit more time until I can plop her down in her high chair and set the trough, I mean, the plate in front of her.

I’m hoping for a few profound blog entries soon but can’t make any promises. Work is…well, work and it’s not getting any slower.

I’m also posting a couple new photos for the enjoyment of all…..be back soon!

2008-06-30T14:46:00.000-05:00

If you want to take a peek at my little girl walking...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Au8Q5weozs4

Check it out!

A Mommy Sentimental Moment

2008-06-13T08:21:00.005-05:00

~sigh~

My baby is a year old today. I can't believe the year has flown by so fast. I can say one thing with complete and total certainty.

God has truly blessed me.

In so many ways, it is honestly hard to count them all. First and foremost are my children. Tater and Sweet Tater have taught me what unconditional and boundless love really is all about. DH can be lumped into that too but he's also taught me a lot about his "species" but that's another blog.

Sweet Tater was a bit of a surprise to DH and I. We had not been talking about another child in the sense that we were starting to "plan" having another. We knew we would and that it would probably be soon but ~ whammo ~ her she came.

The first few weeks of the pregnancy were not all that fun...seriously, how much fun can one person have with your head jammed in a toilet, trashcan, trash bag, etc. all day, every day for 14 weeks. But alas, this to shall pass. It did but was followed by pesky little annoyances like acid reflux, migraines, leg cramps that would cripple my horse, and a couple bouts of walking pneumonia.

Every single second was worth it. Especially when the ultrasound tech showed us we were having a girl...a few minutes later, DH said part of her name. If you know me, you know how to find that story on my page on myspace. Read it, it may not bring you to tears but it's special to me.

My little Sweet Tater was a bit impatient to see the world so she showed up a couple (2) weeks early. Mommy was successful in delivering VBAC despite concerns from ... well, everyone...that I couldn't do it. That is the greatest feeling of accomplishment I have ever felt. I believe that it helped me feel somehow complete and to recognize the feelings of almost anger I had after Tater was born. Anger that I didn't get to experience that with him. Regardless, I certainly wouldn't take either birth back because both were absolutely as they should have been. Both my babies were happy, healthy and perfect. Who could ask for more?

It seems like only yesterday that I was sleeping on the couch with my 5 day old little bitty girl on my chest. That was her favorite place to sleep for weeks and weeks. Wow, time really has flown by so fast!

If I kept on writing about my memories of this year, well, we'd all be crossed eyed and fuzzy brained by then so I'll sum it up this way.....I have a wonderful husband, two AWESOME children and friends and family that I thank God for every day.

I am blessed.

Happy first birthday baby girl!

2008-06-02T15:22:00.002-05:00

Monday's Suck. That's all there is to it. There is nothing about Monday's that I like.

I lay in bed this morning wishing that I could just ignore the clock and the calendar and relive my weekend. We've all been there but this morning I knew that it was the beginning of another obnoxiously busy week where I had as much personal "to-do" items as work to do at the place I happily receive money from to attend. Yep, it is gonna be a long week.

PLUS, I was horrid over the weekend and did none of the running around that usually entails my Saturday. No grocery store, no Target ~ wait, did the economy suffer? Hee hee. Then Sunday was another day of retail sloth....I didn't even touch my car keys much less load up in my gas guzzling SUV and haul the 20 minutes to the nearest decent retail establishment. So that means will now be forced to make my weekdays that much longer and drag my children with me to the various stores I haunt for our necessary items.

One bright spot was a bonus I got for working my....you know, off last week. Cha-ching! Wahoo!

But alas, it's Monday and Monday sucks. My absolute favorite pair of shoes has a flaw....the heel is sort of loose on the right shoe. I'm despondent. If these shoes can't be repaired, there WILL be gnashing of teeth, rending of garments and pulling of hair! I've been searching for another pair just like these for about 6 months now. To no avail. The closest I find are all point-y toed and I REFUSE to wear point-y toed shoes...or "peep" toe shoes. Icky.

So I'll end this by saying that Monday still sucks but at least I made some extra moola today!

Toodles.

2008-05-30T14:01:00.002-05:00

Hello from my soapbox!

I have been so busy at work this week I haven't been able to do anything personal. Can you believe that? I can't. Work this week is making me brain dead by 5 pm. Seriously, brain dead. Flat lined. No chance for resuscitation.

If I didn't have to ramp myself back up during the half hour drive to pick up my kids, I would be rocking on the porch swing aimlessly and probably drooling by sundown.

I can tell you I haven't been this mentally pooped in a LONG time.

It sucks.

I'm fresh out of witty things to say. I'll just quote my all time favorite movie and say....
"This is it, I've found it. I am in Hell."

See ya'll later!

My Solution to the Gas "Crisis"

2008-05-22T10:45:00.000-05:00

Some may read this and call me simple but hey, I don't really care. Watch a few of the Farm Bureau insurance advertisements and you'll realize that sometimes the simplest answer makes the most sense.

I'm not going to say...hey, everyone, buy a hybrid car or bike to work. Sometimes that works, other times it doesn't. I'm also not going to tell everyone to not buy gas on the ??th of the month. Please, I can't remember what day it is hardly, how am I supposed to remember when NOT to buy gas? Seriously.

Ok, here it is....my solution.

The US Government needs to simply not purchase any crude oil or crude oil products for a 24 hour period of time.

That's approximately 34 million barrels per day, folks. (Per http://tonto.eia.doe.gov/dnav/pet/pet_move_impcus_a2_nus_ep00_im0_mbblpd_m.htm ) OPEC alone has almost 6 million barrels of that.

Imagine what that would do.....and I don't know but I doubt we'd all be stuck on the side of the road without gas.

And, no, I won't go without my big SUV! Deal with it!

Boiling over!

2008-05-13T13:29:00.003-05:00

There are a few things that are guaranteed to put me into the stratosphere of pissed offedness (yes, I know that isn't really a word but hey, this is a nice, family oriented type of blog so deal with it). Two things that make me see red so fast that it's guaranteed to beat the speed of sound are:
1) Messing with my kids
2) Insulting my intelligence

For those that know me, you know that I possess an above average amount of sarcasm (thanks, Dad) and that combined with what I like to call my "superior wit" allows me to excel in pretty much any arena to which I chose to dip my toe. I combined a bunch of metaphors there....picture that and it'll make your brain hurt. As a mater of fact, now my brain is locked. Hee hee hee. I can blend in quickly and relatively easily to just about any environment and do pretty well. I'm lacking a bit in humbleness here but hey, I'm pretty darn smart and I'd like to think that's a plus. I have an above average IQ (so says the nuns and teachers in Catholic school) with just the right amount of "common sense" thrown in to keep me from being a complete egg head.

That being said.....if you value your head in the location to which it currently resides, do not, I repeat, do not mess with my kids or insult my intelligence. You will likely feel like you have been simultaneously hit by a bus, blown about in a tornado and injected with mind altering drugs by the time I have finished verbally flaying you like a side of beef. My DH learned this particular lesson the hard way shortly after our marriage. I didn't annihilate him like I would have if he'd been a stranger or some person of questionable intelligence who decided to get in a verbal debate with me. Several others have "learned" this lesson recently. One being the person who inspected the daycare that my children attend. She decided to write them up for a violation that was absolutely ridiculous which has since brought about many even more ridiculous changes to the point where I was forced, in my parental outrage, to write one of the most scathing letters that I have ever composed.

Today, however, that is not my point. Today, my wrath is directed to a "person" that I work with who has no more than a surface level understanding of me and my journey through life. This person has displayed such a ridiculous attitude toward me from the very beginning that I chalked it up to "oh well, not everyone needs to like me" and went on about my merry little way. Keep in mind here that I've been very diligently working on being more positive in life....in all aspects of my life. So I'm VERY careful to maintain a positive attitude at work...boarding on chipper and perky. Today I had the misfortune to learn that I can not take a particular training class because...and I quote here, "it is beyond (my) capability" and would be too difficult.

WHAT??????

Get real. This is not brain surgery, this is not chemical engineering or physics, for heaven sake, this is not something that is that hard. Ok, I'm going to get REALLY sarcastic here. Surely my meager brain can manage to muddle through this particular training since I was somehow able to get through college with almost a 4.0......a bit too much, um, extracurricular activities contributed to my less than perfect GPA.

Just because I have recently returned to the professional world after a hiatus to stay at home with Tater, does not mean I am mentally deficient or that this current position (an entry level position) even remotely comes close to taxing my intelligence. SERIOUSLY, I'll put my brain and my education up against just about anyone I work with on a daily basis. I may not be the egg head that some are but I can tell you what, I can do ANYTHING that I put my mind to and with minimal effort.

I will close with a warning to all....stay away from me today because I may inadvertently offend or rip your head off. Don't take it personally but I've just been on a slow boil for a few hours.

I need a nice long chat with my DH and my BFF while sipping a fruity adult beverage to calm down. I'm sure I'll get it all worked out....after I chill out and then talk to my boss who is cool.

Olfactory Challenged

2008-05-06T08:01:00.002-05:00

I usually get to work at such a time as to avoid the mass entrance of most of the 800+ people that work in my building. That being said, occasionally I run down for a breakfast snack and get caught with this rush of arriving employees.

That being said I have to say that there are times when I truly wish I had an oxygen mask or some other form of personal air filtration system. Not that anyone has B.O. issues, quite the opposite. Apparently there is some store, website, or other vendor with GREAT prices on perfumes and colognes. He/She/They must be selling by the gallon because there were not one but two, count them, two people on the elevator with me this morning who absolutely fought to be the most obnoxiously smelling employee of the day. I'm talking, DOUSED themselves with some of the nastiest smelling scents known to man. I'd prefer to smell a skunk, I think.

So here is a bit of advice to anyone who happens to read this and ... overindulge in the "smells good" stuff ~ for the sake of all who work with you and pass in your wake, don't put it on with a hose or with an aerosol can. The best rule of thumb is less is more.

Thanks from your non-olfactory challenged co-workers.

4 year olds and hair coloring...it's a conspiracy.

2008-05-05T14:42:00.001-05:00

I've been waiting to write and post this particular little anecdote until my hair came down and it was once again colored to my normal shade.

You see I am convinced that Tater is in league with the cosmetics companies that create hair coloring.

Yes, that's right. He's somehow been brainwashed by them into doing things that are guaranteed to turn my hair gray. I know there isn't money involved because he'd probably be sporting some shiny new tractor or ride on toy.

Here's the latest "incident' that made my hair stand on end and go gray with a quickness that would make Jackie Joyner Kersee smile.

Tuesday I was home from work with Sweet Tater. She felt like she'd been hit by a bus. Believe me, I know because she was so pitiful and just miserable all day. At one point in the mid afternoon, I was rocking her to try to get her to sleep. Finally, she gave up and got into a deep sleep. Well, during this process I decided to let Tater go outside. Purely selfish reasons here - he was not helping with the "get the sister to sleep by being quiet" project.

After gently tip-toeing to her room and laying her down in her crib, I decide to make sure he's in one piece. Must have been some sort of premonition on my part...somewhat dulled by lack of sleep and the ringing in my ears caused by the constant whining and crying sick baby. He was playing "mountain climber" on the steep part of the hill, I guess, between our front porch and the carport. He had one of my horses lead ropes attached to the gutter on the carport.

I reached up to unclip it and the thought struck me that ... hmmm, how did he get this up there? Well apparently I didn't phrase it right the first time. Tater looked up at me and giggled and said he didn't want to tell me. So instead of screeching at him and flipping out, I merely said, "c'mon, tell mommy cuz I wanna know." Well he politely informed me that he climbed up there and hooked it on. Climbed up ON THE ROOF OF THE CARPORT and clipped the lead rope onto the gutter...while LEANING OVER the gutter. GASP!!! Then climbed down. (No big deal, mommy ~ as I'm envisioning clutching my chest and having to call 911 myself because I'm having a heart attack just remembering it.)

This is where God reached down, put one hand over my mouth and propped me up with the other because I swear to you, I would have screamed and fainted had He not.

I proceeded to reach up, unclasp the lead rope and coil it up while telling him in a bright, albeit strained voice, that we needed to go inside for a while. Once inside, I promptly told him to go play in his room and not come out because mommy needed a minute. He asked if he was in trouble and I told him "I honestly don't know."

Well, there was no major explosion on my part but we did have a rather long discussion about what could have happened. He's also not allowed to play outside without a grown up from now on.

I am going to buy stock in Miss Clairol.

Incidentally, his daddy didn't believe me at first. Took him a few minutes and then HE sprouted a few new gray hairs...thank you very much.

Guilt and the Working Mom ~ Part 2

2008-05-02T13:26:00.003-05:00

Yawn, stretch, chuck the alarm clock across the room...wait...it's not the alarm clock screeching, it's Sweet Tater. Uh-oh. That does not sound like a good one.

Yes, you guessed it. Sweet Tater was burning up. Sigh. The cough was just the beginning of a great (can you sense the sarcasm there?) week. Monday had me running out at lunch to take her to the doctor for the nasty phlegmy cough. It was confirmed that she had a head full of snot (really? I hadn't noticed!) and her ears were red but not infected....yet. "Let's nip this in the bud and start her on that strong, once a day antibiotic" says my FABULOUS pediatrician. Honestly, love her. She ROCKS!

Well, we didn't nip anything by the 102 degree fever that Sweet Tater woke up with on Tuesday. After a game of rock-paper-scissors with the hubby, it was decided that I would stay home with her and he would take Tater to daycare and go on to work. No worries, right?

Wrong.

Knowing what was on my schedule at work had me feeling HORRIBLE about calling my boss with the bad news. Add to that the fact that my "back up" isn't proving to be much of a back up at all. The niece who is in college isn't back for the summer yet. And we have no other non-working family available. So I call my boss and .... don't get him. I HATE leaving phone messages like this but short of leaving her with THE DOGS, I have no choice. I mean, I love my Border Collie but she's getting up there in years and her hearing isn't quite so good. Besides, a lack of thumbs is hell when trying to change a diaper.

Now you're thinking that I had a semi-quiet day at home where I did some laundry and watched some daytime TV, right? Well, YOU ARE WRONG. I did have the TV on but it's hard to hear over the completely and totally miserable little girl who is pitifully flopping around in my lap. Not wanting to be held but neither wanting to be let down to play. She just thought life sucked and everyone needed to be punished. The Queen had spoken. It was to be war....all day long. I did have a couple small brief respites when she snoozed but invariably these were cut short by a nasty 90 year old chain smoking emphysema sounding cough. Fun. I also made the mistake of going out to pick up some additional medication for her and also picking up Tater from school...before nap. Like I was going to convince him to take one at home. I guess I was already beginning to develop some delusions at this point so I figured, what the heck, he can just play quietly while I deal with her.

Ummm, no. That was not going to happen. He had trucks to move, sirens to screech, and various other small explosions to supervise. While his sister was still screeching like an Irish Banshee and fighting me on EVERYTHING. Don't worry, it gets better....doesn't it?

I'm still feeling the "hate calling out of work guilt" that is compounded by the newly arrived "I would rather be at work...now I suck as a Mom" guilt and the "I really don't like doing screaming babies and snot" guilt. Calgon, take me away. It's not even 2 pm and I already look like death on a cracker.

Let's not forget the healthy dose of guilt that I've been feeling since taking her to the doctor on Monday because she was sick....guilt over her being sick at 10 months when her brother was rarely ill at all. AKA Daycare Guilt. But alas, that was covered in part 1 of my little guilty series. There are times that I feel so mired down in guilty feelings that I'll never manage to dig my way out. Somehow, the little triumphs of the days make up for it. The smiles, clapping little hands, the first "bye bye" wave, "big" little boy hugs and sticky kisses. They all help make up for it. And let's not forget the sleepy little "luv you too mommy" that I get from Tater when I check on him for the 3rd or 4th time for the night.

One day at a time....

By the end of the day, I was looking like a bag lady, stressed out, crying and just generally ready to go hide in the closet in the basement humming cartoon themes and rocking intermittently. Longing for an adult beverage to help me relax but knowing that DH was working late so I was forced to just do some "mental relaxation" techniques. AKA crying on the phone with another mom who just happened to call me to chat when unbeknownst to her, I was loosing my sanity. Forget it, I'd lost it!

Tater's escapade didn't help but that's another blog.

When DH finally got home, I put on my cute little sleeping mask (we have the single brightest clock known to man ~ it's like a laser beam in my eyes) and put in the ear plugs and passed out...for 2 hours until Sweet Tater woke up. Bleary eyed doesn't cut it. Managed to get her back to sleep but it took a while and a few choice words to DH to wake up and help. Couldn't blame Sweet Tater...she was miserable. By 4 am and the next round of rude awakenings, it was determined that the fever that broke the day before was back.....sigh. Here we go again.

I will close by saying this...God bless the following people who saved our lives on Wednesday, Ravishing Red, the Great and Magnificent Nana and the All Powerful Paw Paw. Whew...regardless of the 4 hour commute for the latter, it was worth it. Thanks, gang!

Oh and add some guilt for having to call in the in-laws from ANOTHER STATE to come and help so I maintained my status as gainfully employed.

Cheap Q Tips

2008-05-01T08:51:00.002-05:00

Some things you just can't buy the generic or store brand of. It's just not the same. Not even close. Prime example, cotton swabs. Your brow is wrinkled as you file through the various cotton-like products in your home. I mean Q-Tips. For those who have not finished your first cup of java, that's what you use to clean out your ears...great for getting water out of them after a shower. Also great for a number of other things.

But don't buy the store brand or generic. You're better off putting your car key in your ear or a toothpick.

That is your nugget of wisdom for today.

Part 2 of Guilt and the Working Mom due today also....as soon as I write it!

Guilt and the working mom....

2008-04-30T16:17:00.001-05:00

This particular topic is very dear to my heart....more like the biggest headache I have at the moment.

When Tater was born, we decided the best thing was for me to stay home with him and attempt (note the word used) to find a work from home option that paid some of the bills. I wasn't looking to get rich but I did want to supplement my DH self employed income. So I entered the land of the "stay-at-home mom" for a couple years. I researched and researched and called and followed up and sat through conference calls, etc. until I was blue in the face. I literally mean I was blue in the face ~ one of my forays into the WAH world was with a make up company and the blue was some sort of facial type thing. Hated that because it made me break out like mad. Anyway, after many unsuccessful attempts, more than I want to admit to, I dabbled in real estate for a couple years. Enjoyed it but never really made the steady money I needed. Plus the last minute hours drove my sitter NUTS. One January when my son was almost 2 I was tipped off to a part time job that paid close to what I was looking for. Sounded like just the thing. And it was, for two and a half years. Good pay, flexible hours, and best of all, no clothes restrictions!!!

Sounds like I should be happy, right?

Well, Sweet Tater's unexpected presence seemed to demand a re-evaluation of the finances. Hmm, daycare for two. OUCH! It isn't cheap. I mean put gas and daycare together and you now have exceeded the gross national product for a small nation. Add the mortgage and I'm breathing out of a brown paper bag and popping Zoloft like tic tacs (just kidding). My part time job, while paying a decent amount, was no longer enough to pay for daycare, gas and the few other things it needed to take care of on a monthly basis. So, a-hunting I went for the "no way around it" full time job. The entire time I was job hunting, I was dealing with an emotion that was steadily growing by leaps and bounds and threatening to overtake me at any moment. Mommy Guilt. Yes, that's right. I had a HORRIBLE case and it was growing daily.

Why should my daughter suffer through daycare when we made the sacrifice for me to stay home with my son? Why should I do more for one than the other. Would she look back and think I didn't love her as much? Questions such as this battered me daily ... or more accurately, right before I would attempt to go to bed.

Add to the Mom questions was missing out on 3/4 of her day. Granted, most of it was sleeping and pooping at that point but still...someone else was taking care it her and it wasn't me. Someone else was seeing the new expressions on her face and watching her daily development. I got a "Daily Sunshine Report" and the occasional story. Not really my idea of parenting but sometimes you have to do what you have to do.

So now I'm working full time and commuting about a half hour each way...well a half hour in and a full 1.5 hours home when I have to pick up the kids. DH takes them in the morning and I'm on pick up most of the time. So now I'm filled with the guilt that many mornings I leave before Sweet Tater even wakes up. Add to that she's been to daycare now 3 times with her clothes on backwards because DH either isn't awake or just doesn't get girls clothes. Then the end of the day rolls around...mentally, I'm done. Physically, well, I can handle a few more hours but not much. So I trek to the daycare, pick up the kids and head home. When one is not crying the entire way home, the other one is demanding I turn up the radio instead of telling me about his day. Which usually consists of my having to grill him like a 4th of July hamburger....what did you do today? are you working on any letters? writing your name? sign language? who did you play with today? did you go outside? what did you have for lunch? did you take a nap? The usual. I get answers like "Played" and "Nothing" followed by the request for the radio to blast away. Hmmm, okay well, we'll just talk more over dinner.

Yeah right.

I walk through the door and immediately Sweet Tater wants her supper and she wants it NOW. Forget putting her down in order to have 2 hands to prepare her meal, I have to figure out how to do it 1 handed or how to block out the piercing scream, yes, scream that she emits when she doesn't get her way. Girls and their piercing screams....whew, like nails down a chalk board to some. Ice picks in my ears but that's another topic.

So I attempt to figure out the family dinner while feeding her only to have Tater start complaining and bringing me everything but the kitchen sink to eat. More guilt. Dinner is not ready and not even close. I get Sweet Tater temporarily pacified with the dinner and little things she can grab with the newly discovered index finger and thumb. Now, on to the family dinner. No, Tater, I won't let you eat 6 slices of cheese and a handful of pretzels for dinner. No, ice cream is not a good substitute for the pretzels. By the time that discussion has concluded, I'm usually buried in the freezer feeling guilty because I don't have meals cooked and just ready to reheat for my family. Heck, I'm feeling guilt for wishing I had frozen pizzas and waffles stacked up in there. Or an unlimited supply of hot dogs and baked beans.

Getting dinner started also involves Sweet Tater playing at my feet or somewhere in the kitchen. Usually it ends up being at the base of the trash can seeing what she can pick up with those fingers.....sigh. Move her once, back there, move her a second time, back over there, hang her up in the doorway bouncer and she's happy! For 10 minutes. Dinner is ready to be put on the table and she's ready to get out of her fun little bouncy toy...it's almost 7 pm at this point. Bring on the guilt for dinner being so late. Ok, back to the table for Sweet Tater. WRONG. Sweet Tater is tired and doesn't want to cooperate for "family" dinner time. She's ready for her bath and jammies.

Here comes the guilt over not having her calm and ready for bed and being able to read her a story and snuggle before night night time. Guilt for not having time to just play with her....or Tater for that matter. At least I get a bit of time with him after his bath before he goes to bed. Unless there is something on tv that involves trucks, boats, or construction. More guilt over how much tv he watches.

So both kids are in bed and I'm as glazed as a Krispy Kreme donut. Still have the kitchen to clean up, bags to pack for the next day, and clothes to pick out for work. Dogs to feed, clothes to wash, and a husband to actually speak to. Of course, by this time, he's so fixated on the television, I have to dance naked in front of it to break his hyperfocus....just kidding. I merely stand in front of it...fully clothed....if I need him for something. If not, I usually go about my various "to-do's" and then stumble to the bathroom to get myself ready for bed. Feeling guilty because another day has gone by and I didn't get this and that and the other done like I said I would.

I'm going to stop here because there is a couple other directions I want to take this but it's getting (gotten) really long. So tune in for more guilt and the working mom tomorrow...or the next day but I'll feel guilty if I don't post tomorrow :-)

By the way, June Cleaver can bite me.

Smoke Breaks for Non-Smokers

2008-04-17T09:27:00.001-05:00

Soapbox time

As promised today I'm going to be expounding upon smoke breaks. This is not a slam against smoker's for smoking. It's more of a slam against employers. Each employee gets the allotted am break, lunch break, and pm break. Whether or not we take them is our decision. Most of us don't take "am and pm breaks" per se, we just squeeze in a personal call or email or quick personal email check throughout the day so no big deal. It all works out in the end.

That being said, have you ever had a co-worker who smokes? If so, think about how many times he or she goes out for a ciggy.....no, really think about it. 4 times a day? 5 times a day? Well, for sake of argument, I'm going with 4 times a day and not counting smoking during lunch. These addicted coworkers will pass you in the hall as they head to the designated "smoking spot," smiling and anticipating the forthcoming cancer stick. Invariably, you will get stuck in the elevator with one (or God forbid, more than one) who is returning from the scene of the crime REEKING of cigarette smoke. Gagging you the entire ride up to your office. Making you wish you had a can of Lysol or Oust or even an oxygen tank and mask. Sometimes it makes me wish I had something heavy to beat them over the head with but alas, that's my issue.

But seriously, let's break this down.

There are eight hours in a "normal" work day, right? Most of us rarely give more than that to the boss man so admit it. It's just a straight 8. So when your co-worker takes 4 smoke breaks a day at 10 minutes per break, that's 40 minutes per day. Hmmm, in addition to an hour for lunch. Okay....now you're starting to think about this.

Let's go a step further. That equates to 3.33 hours per week. Starting to add up, isn't it? How does 14.44 hours per month strike you? 173.33 hours per year and a total of 21.67 days per year that smoking co-workers get that you and I do not.

21.67 days per year? I'm going to round that to 21.5 for kicks.

What would you do with an additional 21.5 days off per year if you could have them? I know I'd be happy to take every other Friday off for 10 months and still have an extra day and a half to play with. Heck, I'd go one step further and take all 21.5 days at one time and add a few of my existing vacation days to it to take a month off during the summer. I may go stir crazy at home with the kids but heck, I'm "smoking" so who cares!

When you work 260 days in a year and have a puffing co-worker who takes those little 10 minute "quick" smoke breaks that add up to his or her only working 238.33 days a year, you begin to wonder if you missed the bus. Yes, you know smoking isn't good for your health and (personally) is absolutely disgusting but these people are on to something here. They are not working as much as you are but they get paid for the same work week that you do. Hmmmmm, now you're starting to become indignant and looking around your office wildly trying to spy one of those smokers so you can go bop him/her over the head with a heavy binder...or better yet, randomly start to perform little acts of chaos at his or her desk.

You really want to something stuck in your craw? Imagine if said smoke stack took 15 minutes for a smoke break.....5 minutes goes to actually going down to (and back up from) the designated "Give Me Cancer, Please" area while the other 10 minutes is puffing away life while catching up on office gossip. Let's do the math.

15 minutes per cigarette and smoking 4 cigarettes during working hours (again, not counting lunch) is a total of 60 minutes per day. Yep, that's right. One full hour of your stinky little co-worker's day is spent puffing away. That's 5 hours a week, 21.67 hours per month, and 260 hours a year. A total of 32.5 days in one year that cigarettes liberated your co-worker.

Am I crazy not to wonder why HR departments haven't noticed this or done the math themselves? Are they also sitting in the "smokers lounge" puffing away? What about management who is constantly striving to get more work out of less people? Do they not realize how much time is lost for each employee who smokes? If they look at it in hours and assign a dollar value, perhaps a few jobs would be saved. EVEN BETTER! Why can't we have a shortage of tobacco and a surplus of gas? Now THERE'S an idea worth merit. Unfortunately, that'll never happen.

So here I sit, a non-smoker who is missing out on an extra 21.5 or 32.5 days of "smoke breaks" who is beginning to wonder if I should start taking them...minus the cancer stick, of course. Better yet, I'll take mine in lump sums. Hours, days or weeks, doesn't matter to me. Just give me equality with my smoldering co-workers. I bet if employers started doing that, a lot less people would be smoking! Maybe so, maybe not but I can tell you this, I'd be happy. I wouldn't even grimace and wave my hand in front of my face when confronted with stinky smokers. Ick. Heck, I might even go buy a co-worker a pack and say thanks!

Coming soon....32 hour work weeks, what we need to do to get them!

Proud Mama

2008-04-16T13:57:00.002-05:00

I have got to say that I was so proud of my little Tater yesterday that I was about to BURST!

Many of you know that I have been a Junior Achievement volunteer this semester. I was teaching a 4th grade class not to far from where Tater and Sweet Tater go to daycare. Yesterday was my last class and the time was moved to the afternoon. On my way back to the office, I decided to run in and snag Tater. He's been DYING to go to see "Mommy's New Work" which it will always be termed I think.

So yesterday, he got his wish.

I took him around and introduced him to my boss and all the others I work with on a daily basis. He was SO CUTE and SO POLITE! He got to sit in a meeting with me and you would think I gave him the key to a candy store! He was asked questions and given papers to carry and acted like a big man....so cute for a 4 year old.

The ladies of the office fell in love and have already asked when he'll be back....with his baby sister this time! We'll see about that....4 year olds are easier to keep busy than 10 month old little babies. The intern in another department wanted to steal him and take him home with her, I could just tell.

Anyway, my boss complimented me on how polite he was and how cute he was. Today has been a flurry of activity but many of my co-workers have stopped by to tell me how adorable he was yesterday and how well behaved and polite.

Proud Mama.....despite the allergy ridden sinus, I'm still smiling away! I'd squeeze him so hard right now, he'd bust! I did tell him how proud I was of him and how good he was while at Mommy's work....about a half dozen times. He finally said, "I know Mommy, you already told me that."

Growing up WAY too fast.

More later....

It's been a while....

2008-04-08T15:50:00.002-05:00

but I'm back!

First it was sick children, then it was preparing for a week's vacation. After swimming through a sea of preparations both at work and at home, we set off for our week of fun in the sun at Myrtle Beach.

Ocean front condo with all the amenities at a resort that had 2 restaurants, 4 pools and a lazy river for the kids. Sounds like heaven, huh?

WRONG.

The weather before I left said to expect a few showers but mostly mid 70's. Did we get that? Oh no. We got rainy and cold. One day of sunshine that ended mid afternoon with a front guaranteed to freeze your bippy off!

Oh well. We had a great time with my BFF and her family. Tater had a good time and Sweet Tater got some Auntie spoils.

I will say this...I have NEVER BEEN SO GLAD TO RETURN TO WORK! Seriously, I like my mundane little day-to-day life. I admit it.

Vacation is nice but I'm okay for a while before I embark on another one.

More later....like ridiculous raises and stupid people.

Morning meanderings

2008-03-21T05:52:00.000-05:00

What else are you supposed to do when you wake up at 4 am and can’t go back to sleep? I tried to clean the kitchen but it seemed every little noise reverberated through the house like a gong. In deference to the sleeping angels in the house, I gave up that occupation after getting one side of the counter cleaned off and scrubbed.

So here I sit at 5:25 am, blogging away like some insomniatic nut.

I guess you could say that I have something swirling around in my subconscious that is keeping me away which could very well be but that’s unusual for me. Rather, it’s unusual that I am unable to stuff such thoughts into a small, dark hole until morning. I never wake up and am unable to go back to sleep, I mean NEVER! Perhaps it’s excitement about my upcoming vacation but that is still over a week away. Perhaps it’s angst that my husband’s younger sister has decided to make a reappearance after the destruction she left the last time she was here. Hmmm, could very well be that but I don’t think so. I prayed about that situation and put it in God’s hands. He will take care of it, I’m done. Perhaps it’s just a bit of leftover energy that has decided to resurface ~ yeah, right! I have two kids, both of which have been battling illness this week. Extra energy? My kingdom for some extra time, extra money and extra energy!

5:30 am is a good time to ponder, reflect and listen to Buble. But then, when isn’t a good time to listen to Michael Buble?

I didn’t blog about his concert because it was just to awesome to put into mere words. I never expected to be so entertained by one person. Not only was the music phenomenal, he was very charismatic and downright funny. I laughed more in one evening than I have in months. If I were honest, I would say I laughed more at his show than when I attended the Blue Collar Comedy Tour Rides Again. Hard to imagine, isn’t it? I suppose it would be because I had high expectations of the comedy show making me laugh ~ which it did indeed. But I did not have any expectation of laughing as much as I did at Buble’s show. Don’t get me wrong, some of the content was a bit inappropriate for the younger folks in the crowd but my kids weren’t there so I let myself enjoy as an adult not a mom. My sides hurt the next day because of the laughter. So I think I’ll not only go to see Mr. Michael Buble again, I think I’ll pay more money for better seats next time!

I’m looking around here in basement land and seeing how much I truly have left to do down here. The USPS has called several times and wants their paint color back so I’ve got to pick another color to paint the walls in my little office cum guest room. Not that USPS blue is bad, just ask my sister. Her house is infamous for it’s USPS blue exterior paint. I’m sure NASA uses her house as a marker for astronauts from space. It’s just not the color I want for an interior room in my house. I kind of feel like I’m inside a blueberry. Alas, the burden of changing this situation falls upon me and I have NO IDEA what color to paint the walls down here. First of all, what the heck will cover this lovely (dripping with sarcasm here) color and not seep through? As many of you know, I’m not one for having the patience to paint primer several times and then color at least twice so it needs to be something that can happen in 3 coats or less. I’ll ponder this a bit more before making any rash decisions.
Once the paint is chosen and slapped up on the walls, I’m going to lean on DH to make a flooring decision for this room. The vinyl floor is dismal but made worse only after the walls stop making those unprepared gasp for air. Hardly noticeable now but wait until the walls aren’t enough to choke you and then we’ll see how much attention the floor gets. Once those two projects are completed I will only have the bathroom to remodel…or rather, WE will only have the bathroom to remodel. DH and I have a pretty good idea what we want to do, it’s just getting the “get up and go” to do it. I thought it would make a great winter project but winter has come and (FINALLY) gone with nothing done in the bathroom down here. Oh well.

That brings me to another irritant ~ I love spring. Truly, I do. I chose Spring as the season to get married. Everything begins to grow and bloom again. It’s a new awakening. A fresh start. It’s great. Except for one thing. I am just a little bit allergic to those pesky Bradford Pear trees that seem so popular in my little neck of the woods. Honestly, they are useless trees that stink to high heaven when they bloom and have little to no root system. Besides being somewhat aesthetically pleasing, I can not fathom why anyone would want them around. If it wouldn’t put me into anaphylactic shock, I’d go on a chain saw rampage and cut them all down. Aargh. I can’t be the only one who is plagued by this menace. Anti Bradford Pear Tree-ers Unite! We’ll start a movement and remove this horrible irritant. Forget Global Warming, let’s get rid of Bradford Pears! I’ll plant any other tree but that one, I swear!

Enough blogging for now, I’m going to go change the sheets on the spare bed for the arrival of the in-laws and my hubby’s younger sister. Pray for me….or more accurately, pray that He keeps one hand on my shoulder and the other over my mouth. I’m going to need it.

Happy Easter to all! God is Great!

Tired and witchy

2008-03-19T13:41:00.005-05:00

A couple of you saw this in email form earlier but I thought it deserved greater exposure.

I'm sure you all can imagine my day yesterday at home with two sick kids. Well, let me tell you what I managed to accomplish yesterday while at home with the two sicklies....

Swept and swiffer wet cleaned the living room floor 3x - including picking up all toys and moving all furniture.
Put away all toys in the appropriate bin/basket/room
Dusted living room
Swiffer wet cleaned the bathroom floor
Wash, dried, folded and put away 5 loads of laundry
Crock potted dinner
Cleaned our bedroom which was a HUGE deal since there is a ton of clothes not on hangers for some reason.
Re-arranged 2 pieces of furniture in my bedroom for better tv placement and viewing.
Changed sheets on all 3 beds.
Put sheets on the downstairs bed for the in-laws impending arrival Friday PM.
Vacuumed den downstairs.
Sorted miscellaneous toys downstairs and created a "discard/donate" bin.
Took pictures of turkeys periodically throughout the day.
Put away the last few lingering Christmas decorations hanging out in the kitchen.
Had QT with Tater while Sweet Tater was asleep.
Had QT with Sweet Tater while Tater was watching his builder show.

All before the hubby got home. After he got home, I managed to get dinner on the table and wash the dinner dishes, well all but 3 before I died. I was in bed and asleep by 8:30. It's hard to keep sick kids.

If DH would have been home, he would have.....

Held Sweet Tater all day long in the recliner while he and Tater watched various sci-fi and violent movies and ate junk food.
Asked me what was for dinner as I walked through the door.
Asked me if he had clean jeans.

So that is why I'm tired today...and a bit, well, honestly, witchy. I woke up this am to a nasty rainy day and when I mentioned my hair appointment as a reminder that DH is supposed to pick up the kids, I got the "Deer In The Headlights" look. Great. Love it when they listen. "I do listen to you, honey."

Hmm, I guess that's only when I say I want to.....well, we'll leave that alone.

Mommy's Angels

2008-03-12T09:18:00.007-05:00

Thanks to J. Raines Photography for these and many other AWESOME pictures!!!

Here are a couple pictures of the Tater and the Sweet Tater.

So can you tell my Sweet Tater is a happy girl? And FINALLY getting some hair.

Just look at my big handsome Tater! I can't believe he's starting school in the fall!

It's the longest Friday afternoon in history...

2008-03-07T16:15:00.002-06:00

There is a moderate amount of snowfall predicted and it's so dark outside you would think it was 8 p.m. but I'm still here at work plugging along. I want to be home, in my flannel pants, lounging on the couch with the kids.

But my boss seems to think that icy road conditions won't happen until well after we all depart. Well, newsflash, DH says we have ice hanging from the trees out front. Not everyone lives in the rich part of town SOUTH of downtown. Some of us live a bit outside the city limits so we have to drive up hills and through non-salt covered roads to arrive home.

Oh well. I won't complain. I'll go slow and easy and get there. It's just that I've got a few more minutes before my usual departure time and I could bet that the clock has rolled back a few minutes instead of forward.

Alas, I'm logging off for now.

I'm irritated!

2008-03-05T10:36:00.001-06:00

Quick blog about being worthless...a blight upon society...a boil on the ... well, you get it.

I have a problem with people who are users. You've all met at least one in your lifetime. These are the people who are content to let the world take care of them. They have zero initiative, zero goals, and for most, zero jobs or job prospects. These people have a deep seated belief that someone, someone or everyone owes them something.

What gives?

I mean, seriously, I can not fathom letting someone else do EVERYTHING for me. What kind of person will sit on their rear end, day after day after day and let others do for them as if they are not capable. I'm not talking about the disabled or those who have suffered a set back and are having trouble getting on their feet. I'm talking about people who are physically able to obtain a job that contributes to society as well as the income of their household. People who may not be rocket scientists but can certainly do the most menial of tasks when directed. People who have blood flow above the neck. People who breathe and eat and drink and do all the other things the rest of us do. Drive, shop (with other people's money), and even (God Forbid!) vote.

I have an issue with stupid people - always have. No tolerance for them. Well, I've just added lazy, worthless users to the list.

Stop sucking off your friends, family, and society in general. Put on your big girl panties (or big boy undies) and get off your rear! No one wants to hear you whine about how much your life stinks and how you have such a bum rap or a raw deal. The only thing anyone wants to see is you get off your butt and do something to make your own life better!

I'm done now. I could keep going on this one for days but I'm forcing myself to stop and think of those who have been knocked down by health reasons, tornadoes, etc. and are not only pulling themselves up by their own bootstraps, they are bettering themselves!!! Way to go!

Now, for the rest of you, if you won't fix yourself, stay out of my way. Don't call me, don't write me, don't email me some pathetic excuse for why you stink. Just forget I exist and make sure you steer clear of me because I have no patience and the next time we meet, I just might go off on your sorry @$$!

Monday Monday

2008-03-03T08:30:00.001-06:00

Fantastic weekend...well, fantastic Sunday at least. Saturday was...okay. Two cranky children do not a happy mommy make. But Sunday redeemed the weekend. BEAUTIFUL weather conducive to plenty of outdoor time. Fresh air = pleasantly tired children.

Plus, DH was able to get some things done (i.e. Christmas lights are FINALLY down) and was able to start thinking about Spring projects. I asked again about when he was going to call all the troops together to start fencing. I got the standard, "I don't know" response so I'm going to pick a weekend and start the ball rolling. If not, my horses may sue for separation based on their crappy barn area. I don't think grass will ever grow in that fenced area again.

I was also able to clean out my SUV ~ I know, several of you just gasped in utter astonishment but it's true. Not only did I clean out the crap in the front seat (tissues, receipts, etc.) but I also completely emptied the entire thing. Wrinkled up french fries, gummies, miscellaneous body parts for Happy Meal toys. I was a bit surprised at what I found when I started flipping up the seats in the middle row. But hey, I made out with a total of $0.41 enough to buy a stamp for another month or two. Brace yourself, I even vacuumed it out with the house vacuum cleaner. Aren't you proud of me? Then I windexed all but the windows. Don't ask.

Now, to get an oil change and get the darn thing cleaned. I hate it when we get any kind of snow here. TDOT loads the road with brine solution and that is just one nasty mess on a car. I know you're supposed to wash it off as soon as possible, but please, I the likely hood of my cheap self paying for a car wash is almost up there with winning the lottery.

But Sunday was a great day. Windows were opened, groceries were bought for the first time in about 3 weeks (DH danced a jig of joy for this!), and my little DD said "Mama" ~ sigh. It's official. She's a big girl. Crawling as of last week and now calling saying "mamamamamamamama" not as often as "dada" but we'll get there. She's also pulling up on everything! I'm wondering if she'll be walking before her 9 month birthday. We'll see. DH and I are TOTALLY unprepared for that.

DH also discovered DD's 3rd tooth. Fussiness and my daughter are rare. She's usually fussy if she's wet, stinky, or hungry. Not much else bothers her. Saturday we had issues and a couple times yesterday we had issues. About 5:30 pm yesterday, I suggested to Dh to check her gums out and see if we had a new arrival. Sure enough. As she clamped down on his finger, he felt the top tooth. All I can say is "God Bless Highland's Teething Tablets and my sister for telling me about them" ~ whew!

All is well in my world for now and I'd give just about anything to be able to spend the day outside today before it gets nasty again tonight. But oh well, Mommy Nature came to visit yesterday and promised to come back soon. Until then, sunny flowers and hearing "Mama" will make me smile.

Mommy who?

2008-02-28T08:20:00.003-06:00

Invariably when any area of your life seems to be going along just right, something, somewhere in the realm of your existence will go wrong. Not always horribly wrong, just wrong.

Today I'm going to specifically refer to getting a full nights sleep. That area of my life has recently become very much "just right" since Sweet Tater now is almost 9 months old and is sleeping through the night. Wahoo, you say.

Yeah, right.

DH and I still haven't managed to get her to sleep through the night in her own bed. There she sleeps about 2 hours and then wakes up periodically for about another 2 hours before deciding she's used up her small amount of patience with us and enough is enough. She wants the comfy bed and the side by side automatic heaters known as Mommy & Daddy. Not only does she want things her way, she wants them that way now. Preferably 10 minutes ago. She'll wail and sound like her life is over. Until you put her in our bed where she promptly rolls to her tummy, snuggles in and sighs. Right back to sleep.

The rest of the night is somewhat restful, interrupted periodically by either little fit smashed up against your side, face or back or by her head as she lifts it up and then drops it like a lead weight onto whatever surface is near....pillow, mattress, elbow, face, doesn't matter. So you slide her back to the area in the middle designated for littlest people and go back to sleep. Great.

Well, last night when I was finally able to call it a night (very interesting book had caught my attention and wouldn't let me go until the end ~ I absolutely love Nora Roberts!), I climbed into bed only to discover my DH and my DD were both battling to see who could snore the loudest. That's right, deuling snorers right there in my bed. Go ahead, laugh but I will tell you this, the little one almost outdid the big one. DD is about 1/3 the size of her daddy but she has a set of lungs that will make you cringe when she's mad, smile happily at her when she's babbling, and sigh with disgust when she's snoring. Gets that from her daddy because I certainly don't snore like that unless sick or pregnant. After about 15 minutes of that lovely lullaby, I grab a few pillows and head for the couch.

Wait, it gets better. You thought I was writing about my issues with my DD, right? Well, hang on because this is where the topic shifts to DS.

Just as I get comfy on the couch and start to drift into that in-between land, I hear little feet padding across the kitchen floor and heading in my direction. Low and behold, here comes Tater clutching a white stuffed seal and Little Bear. Once my voices pierces the sleep induced fog around his little mind, he turns around in the hall and comes to me in the living room. Decides he wants a drink. Yeah, right. He had to pack up his buddies of the moment to come and get a drink. Likely.

So we get a drink of water and head back into his room where he promptly askes me to lay down with him. Sure, I think, he's still 1/2 asleep, he'll be out like a light in less than 5 minutes. Boy, do I know my son. I lay next to him for a total of about 5 minutes and he was gone. As gently as possible, I climbed out of his bed and tried to miss the squeeky parts of the floor when I leave his room to head back to the couch. Thinking it sounds quiet, I check my bedroom to see if I can rejoin DH and DD....no such luck. They were just taking a short intermission before the snore fest continues. Back to the couch I go.

Again, get comfy and start to drift...only to hear Tater calling for me.

At 1:45 am, I got a lecture from my son about staying where I said I'd stay (a.k.a. in his bed with him) and not leaving. Then he proceeds to tell me I can't lay next to him but need to sleep at the bottom of the bed. I invoke the right of parenthood and tell him he's nuts and I'm going back to my bed. He is a big boy and needs to act like one and sleep by himself in his bed all night. No real argument from him, so I tuck him in again (4512th time of the night) and head back to the couch.

I only had to get up 2 more times last night but not for the kids...well, the biological ones. Pepper decided she needed some "Mommy" time too, at about 3 am. She didn't want to go outside, she just wanted to have some petting from me. Sigh.

Well morning arrives and my eyes feel like they are filled with half a beach of sand and I can tell, I'm almost going to be cranky. Almost. All is well, Tater wakes up and comes padding into the kitchen headed into the living room. I get my morning hugs and a kiss. Great day.

Then it starts. The endless litany of "Mommy can you..." "Mommy, I need..." "Mommy, I want..." and let's not forget "No, Mommy, I don't want to..." Trying to maintain my cool and be "Little Mrs. Positive Pants" I do my best to accomodate without being ridiculous. This works well until he decides to throw his jeans in the trash because he doesn't want to wear those, he wants to wear the ones he had on yesterday. "Little Mrs. Positive Pants" has left the building and has been replaced by late for work and now ticked off me. I informed Tater that if he wanted to see 5, he would return to the bedroom immediately and put on those jeans that I just took out of the trash. [Thankfully, DH had taken out the trash just moments before and the can was empty or I think I might have strung Tater up by his toes]. It took a couple more carefully worded threats and one very ominous look for him to decide enough was enough and to get dressed. Now that I'm officially late, I head down the stairs after another quick snuggle and smooch from Sweet Tater who always wakes up smiling and happy.

Smooth sailing from here, right? Wrong. Tater "forgot to give me a kiss" so has to chase me down the stairs. Two kisses, a hug and a few reminders about using only "kid" words and not to play with a certain boy who likes to wail on him, and to mind his teacher, etc. and I'm out the door. DH was returning from feeding the animals and I looked somewhat harassed apparently. He smirked and told me to have a good day to which I responded, "He's all yours, good luck."

Never has work looked so much like a haven. So I'm officially cranky and have already told a few co-workers it's wise to steer clear of me until approximately ... um, lunch. It's somewhat comical now but brings back memories of my mother saying to me, "I'm not Mommy, I'm Suzy today!" because I was OVER being called Mommy this morning.

Have a wonderful day and I hope this makes you smile!

9 things that annoy....

2008-02-27T13:27:00.003-06:00

I got this from a friend and sort of re-worked it to fit my style.

1 People who point at their wrist while asking for the time.... I know where my watch is pal, where the heck is yours? Do I point at my ears when I say I can't hear?

2. People who are willing to get off their butts to search the entire room for the T.V. remote because they refuse to walk to the T.V. and change the channel manually. Come on, no wonder obesity is running rampant in our society.

3. When people say "Oh you just want to have your cake and eat it too". Absolutely! What good is cake if you can't eat it? Of course, it would be better for my rear end if I didn't eat it! :-)

4. When people say "it's always the last place you look". Of course it is. Why the hell would you keep looking after you've found it? Do people do this? Who and where are they? It's also obvious they have never been to myhouse where the 4 year old is VERY inventive with his places to put things. Ask me for a tape measure. I be able to find a $50 bill before I'd find that. Ask the 4 year old...he'll be back in a minute with that, a hammer, and a screwdriver.

5. When people say while watching a film "did you see that?". No idiot, I paid $12 to come to the cinema and stare at the sticky mess on the floor.

6. People who ask "Can I ask you a question?".... Didn't really give me a choice there, did ya sunshine? No need to change this one!

7. When something is 'new and improved!'. Which is it? If it's new, then there has never been anything before it. If it's an improvement, then there must have been something before it, couldn't be new. Besides, the darn thing probably doesn't work anyway.

8. When people say "life is short". Compared to labor with no epidural, you bet life is short.

9. When you are waiting for the elevator on the top floor of a building and someone asks "Going up or down?" Uh, hello? What planet are you residing on?

A few words to clarify....

2008-02-27T13:13:00.000-06:00

Here are just a few definitions to refresh the men in our lives as they seem to have some difficulty comprehending the meanings of these words...and many others.

Responsibility - noun [ri-spon-suh-bil-i-tee] 1. the social force that binds you to the courses of action demanded by that force. 2. the proper sphere or extent of your activities. 3. a form of trustworthiness; the trait of being answerable to someone for something or being responsible for one's conduct.

Responsible - adjective [ri-spon-suh-buh l] 1. answerable or accountable, as for something within one's power, control, or management. 2. involving accountability or responsibility. 3. chargeable with being the author, cause, or occasion of something. 4. having capacity for moral decisions and therefore accountable; capable of rational thought or action. 5. able to discharge obligations or pay debts. 6. reliable, dependable, as in meeting debts, conducting business dealings, etc. 7. answerable to or serving at the discretion of an elected legislature or the electorate.

Respect - [ri-spelt] noun 1. a particular, detail, or point. 2. relation or reference. 3. esteem for or a sense of the worth or excellence of a person, a personal quality or ability, or something considered as a manifestation of a personal quality or ability. 4. deference to a right, privilege, privileged position, or someone or something considered to have certain rights or privileges; proper acceptance or courtesy; acknowledgement. 5. the condition of being esteemed or honored. 6. respects, a formal expression or gesture of greeting, esteem, mor friendship. 7. vaor or partiality. verb 1. to hold in esteem or honor. 2. to show regard or consideration for. 3. to refrain from intruding upon or interfering with. 4. to relate or have reference to.

Consideration - [kuh n-sid-uh-rey-shuh n] noun. 1. the act of considering; careful thought; meditation; deliberation. 2. something that is or is to be kept in mind when making a decision, evaluating facts, etc. 3. thoughtful or sympathetic regard or respect; thoughtfulness for others. 4. a thought or reflection; an opinion based upon reflection. 5. a recompense or repayment, as for work done.

Lie - [lahy] noun 1. a false statement made with deliberate intent to deceive; an intentional untruth; a falsehood. 2. something intended or serving to convey a false impression; imposture. 3. an inaccurate or false statement.

10 years and she never did it...until 2 days ago

2008-02-21T12:54:00.002-06:00

Anyone who lknows me, knows how much I love my animals. My dog Pepper is especially close to me since she's my first dog. Pepper is a very spunky Border Collie who was rescued by my vet's office and given to me. I've had her since she was less than 3 months old.

She used to go to work with me back in my western wear retail days ~ she looked so cute with her bandana collar! She's been on countless trail rides and even more countless car rides. She's had play dates with other dogs. Before I married and we bought our first house in the country, I used to take her just about every where with me so that she wasn't cooped up inside. If you are familiar with Border Collie's you know that a cooped up and bored dog is a disaster in the making.

Not that we didn't have our fair share of incidents but she is absolutely the best dog anyone could ever ask for. Very mild mannered and loving. Easily taught - that worked best with the "no kisses on the mouth" and sitting. Stay was not an easy one. Smart as a whip and twice as agile. She could stand on the top rail of a split rail fence before she was 2 years old. Boundless energy and ears that despite their flop, could hear anything!

Well, she's getting a bit older and starting to have issues with her knees. I should be more diligent in providing her with glucosamine/chondrotin pills but with two kids, a full time job and a hubby, it's hard to remember my name, much less to give the pup a pill. Alas, winter is especially difficult for her as her knees get stiff. So my alternative is to bring both dogs in at night when it is exceptionally cold outside. I'd have them in most every night during the winter but DH is not a fan of inside dogs.

Especially now.

Two nights ago, I brought the dogs in, put their cedar beds in the kitchen and fed them. All was right in their world. Apparently not, Pepper decided she was thirsty and ... wait for it...she went and drank out of the toilet. At first I was unsure of what I was hearing. Then I heard the click click clicking of dog claws as they returned to the kitchen through the hardwood in the hallway. When I went out and asked DH if I was hearing impaired, he responded "Nope, your dog just drank out of the toilet." Eeewwww. Still needing proof, I walked into the bathroom and sure enough, water on the seat. NAS-TY!

She was scolded for it. I told her she was a bad dog and not to drink out of the toilet again. Yes, I speak to her like she's my child and she is...my oldest and cheapest one :-)

Well, she decided last night about 2 am that I meant not to drink out of the bathroom on the main level of the house. So she politely went down into the basement to use the toilet down there for thirst quenching. DH was NOT pleased to say the least. When I got up and stumbled to the head of the stairs, she was at the bottom looking at me like..."Uh oh, I guess I didn't think about that long enough."

I again scolded her but this time I also told her no toilets and then promptly washed and refilled her water bucket. Yes, I washed it and refilled it at 2 am. Gotta keep my pup happy.

Doc slept through all of it...spoiled rotten thing that he is.

So that's my little story for today.

I found a couple errors in my calculations for "Smoke Breaks" so stay tuned for that. I want to re-check my math. (My sister is laughing right now and shaking her head.)

Are we having fun yet?

2008-02-19T13:13:00.001-06:00

Sorry for the absence but it's been a bit of a nightmare at my house.

Got a call from daycare on Friday that Tater had a fever of 101.6.....not good. He was crying and shaking and wanted him mommy or daddy. Frantic phone calls ensued to locate the hubby who was MIA. Done with work for the day but without his cell phone. A brain explosion caused him to leave it at home. Finally found him 30 minutes later AFTER daycare called back and said Tater's fever was 103.8.....fear. That's what I felt. Fear compounded by worry and guilt that I was not already there. Doctor wanted to see him so hubby picked him up and off they went.

One finger prick, one nose tickle (flu test) and one throat culture later and we knew....nothing. Doctor thought it was strep but the test results aren't due in until Monday. Hmm, great. What do we do now? Doctor says go ahead and treat for strep since that's what her gut says.

Lovely.

So we made him a nice "sick" bed on the couch and let him snuggle up there until he passed out. I ended up sleeping on the floor in the living room with him on the couch....not fun. Hardwood does not a comfortable bed make.

Saturday was not bad. I juggled trying to keep the kids far enough apart so that Sweet Tater doesn't get this mess. Thomas was acting fine, no major complaints but you could tell he just didn't feel well. A realtively decent day until just after bedtime. He woke up sweating badly (great! Fever is broken) and clawing at his throat. Refused to drink anything, take any medicine, suck on a popsicle or even a lollipop...that's some serious pain if he refuses candy. Sent DH out for throat spray after a frantic call to the doctor's answering service. Of course, that's some nasty mess so you know it was an act of God that he took more than 1 swallow.

Another night on the floor beside him because he was so restless I was afraid he'd wake up and start crying which would wake up the baby. Not very conducive to sleeping but then, neither is getting up every 3 hours to administer medicine to a 4 year old who screams like a banshee when his throat hurts. Which, incidentally it did EVERY time he woke up. Wonderful.

Sunday was another subdued day spent watching every Bob The Builder DVD we had while trying to keep him quiet and away from his sister. I made a mad dash for sanity in the form of grocery shopping and returned with two new Bob dvd's so I was an instant hero until he realized I didn't come home with the requested green Power Ranger. Sigh. Can I take a nap now? Bury my head in the sand? Something?

By Sunday evening it appeared that he was on the mend....or rather, that the antibiotics he cried about having to take had done their job and kicked the virus out. Good. Whew! Now, to get ready for the next day...the dreaded Monday.

While I was gathering up Emmalyn's supplies for the daycare, DH announces he's not feeling very well. Probably just tired. I didn't pay much attention to him because he never gets sick. Boy was I wrong.

I was woken up by DH about 4 am...he was writhing and moaning and shivering so much that I thought he was in labor and delivering a litter of puppies. He swore he was burning up with fever and about to die. Well, I felt his forehead and he was fine. By the time I got up about 5:45 am, he was determined he was going to die and that I should plan the funeral. Again, I didn't pay much attention to him but instead started to check on Tater.

Tater popped up out of bed and informed me he wanted cereal, a biscuit and pancakes for breakfast. No fever, said his throat didn't hurt and repeated his breakfast demands. Ok. So he was good to go back to daycare with his sister. Now to get them both together and piled up into the car so that I'm not TOTALLY late to work. Thomas didn't like that idea until Daddy told him that he had to help mommy with Sweet Tater. That I didn't know what to do in the mornings since I don't take them anymore. That seemed to molify him for a bit.

Tater spent Monday at daycare as did the Sweet Tater. No problems at all.

DH on the other hand, didn't need a funeral but did go to the doctor. No help there. He didn't have the flu, didn't have strep but did have something really nasty. Thanks for the obvious, can we get the co-pay back? He's still hanging on today and feeling a bit better.

Tater's test results finally came back today (Tuesday) and it wasn't strep. No idea what it was/is but keep going with the antibiotics. I guess I'll go fill those antibiotic prescriptions now for DH...wonder if I can get one for me without getting this mess? I'm not feeling 100% and I know my body is fighting something. I'm determined that I won't get sick.

So that's why I haven't been blogging. Not that I don't have topics....lots of good ideas coming up. I'm still going to post about smoke breaks....so keep watching.

Working Mom's Rant

2008-02-15T09:29:00.000-06:00

Ok, I'm climbing up on my soapbox today because I am just plain mad. No, make that plain pissed off!

God has given me two of the most beautiful children ever created and I thank Him for them every day. I wouldn't take a billion dollars for my two kids....ever. Parenting is not all roses and laughter. I don't expect it to be. It's even more difficult when both parents have to work full time.

Working parents have an additional set of "issues" to deal with along with the fear of the children being taken care of at daycare, being raised right, knowing all they need to know to be productive members of society, guilt over not having more time to spend with the children, etc. Working parents also have to deal with co-workers who don't have kids and, frankly, JUST DON'T GET IT!

I don't want special consideration because I'm a working mom. I don't expect everyone to be sympathetic to constant colds, last minute doctor's appointments and sleepless nights. I certainly don't expect you to understand when I come in with a smear on the shoulder of my blouse because of one last minute "extra" hug, a hug which I cherish and wouldn't go without even if it meant losing my job.

What I do expect is for you to keep your opinions to yourself because if you have never walked in my shoes, you can not possibly know what my life is like. I expect you to respect the fact that, although you don't, I made a choice to become a parent and I'm not going to ignore that responsibility. I expect you to respect me and the fact that my day doesn't end when I leave work. It ends when I finish all my duties on my "second" job, the job I love the most and don't get paid for. My life doesn't revolve around this place that pays me for my time and intelligence. I have more than a life outside of this building, I have a legacy. That's right, I have a legacy.
That legacy is so much more important than anything I will do or not do today. That legacy is the reason I get up in the morning before my children, lay out their clothes, pack their bags and then often drag myself away BEFORE I get kisses and hugs. That legacy is the reason that I go home at night and fix a decent meal most of the time, make a grocery list, wash a load of clothes and try to find enough time to play a bit before bath time and bed time stories. That legacy is why I try to close my eyes and count to 50 if I have to in order to keep from screaming at a select few who live for their jobs.

So don't go mouthing off over my having to leave suddenly to pick up a sick child at daycare or having to come in late because of a doctor's appointment. I find it not only reprehensible but absolutely infuriating to hear from my co-workers that according to one or two, I am hardly ever around or that I'm not making a good impression because I put my children before my job.

You may decide that your career is your life. That is your choice and I respect that. I even respect you for your decision to follow that path. But it's not for me so don't try to make me look bad because I'm not on the same path as you are. Give me the respect I deserve as a working mom with two jobs ~ the first in the business world and the second, and most important, raising my family.

~~~~~I wrote this several days ago when I was a trifle aggitated. I have calmed down but still think this deserves some blog time.~~~~~~~

All Play & No Work

2008-02-14T16:08:00.000-06:00

Ok, so I really mean "A Whole Lotta Play & Notta Lotta Work" but had to make it shorter :o)

I am married to a wonderful man who is a few years older than me by the calendar and many years younger than me maturity wise. I know, you're saying, "Boys mature slower than girls" well, at some point boys become men and the process should be completed. I mean, seriously. A man in his mid to late 30's should not be playing like a college kid.

I'm not talking about bar hopping or silly things like that. I'm talking about playing with the buddies ~ having "boy" night EVERY week and weekend trips to hunting camp, fishing camp, and 4 wheeling camp. The constant round of "grown up" play that men seem to invariably find themselves unable to live without.

Recently a girlfriend of mine who has been married less than a year remarked upon her angst over her husband’s choice of free time activities. I could only smile and say, "Welcome to my world" as I remembered the last 9 years of the same issues. I also remember, not so fondly, the time after the glow of wedded bliss had dimmed and I realized that the play wasn’t going to come to an end anytime soon. Hmm, I guess my friend just got to that point.

Well ladies, I’m here to tell you that there is something genetically added to us that makes us immune to the call of the playgroup. I call this a playgroup because it is always several of the friends who seem to gather for the activities. Just like a kid’s playgroup.

Yes, God seems to have created us with the responsible gene as well as the nurturing one. The gene that makes us look first at what needs to be done at home or with the children or what the bank account can handle under the already frightening burden before bouncing off on the next adventure.

That does not mean that we are immune to fun or that we have no desire to play and have a good time. Alas, we automatically see that there are dishes to be done, laundry to be washed, dried, folded and put away, floors to clean, grocery shopping to be done, children to be played with, etc. We have been made to think of our responsibilities as adults, wives, moms, daughters, aunts, friends, employees, etc. as binding and non-transferable…or should that be non-shirkable? More often than not, instead of a wild shopping spree at The Shoe Warehouse, we think "Hmm, Soandso really needs new jeans." Or "Gas has been so expensive lately that I need to cut back and not spend anything on myself this month." Here’s a better one, "I’m off from work early, I think I’ll take the kids to the park before we go home." Sound familiar?

Well, I’m here to tell you that there are some women who don’t think that way just like there are some men who DO think that way. But the law of averages is on my side, folks. Most men don’t think that way. Instead it’s usually, "Hey, I’m off early and so is Buddy A. I’ll call him and see if we can go four wheeling for a few hours today!" Who cares that the laundry is set to take over the house and the dishwasher is preparing to picket the front yard! It’s time to play!"

I could go on about this for hours and include the jokes and bets made by my family and several close friends as to whether or not my husband would leave "Boy Night" if I went into labor on a Monday. But, I am gainfully employed and thus must return to my daily tasks. Just remember this, we love them despite their neurotic need to recapture their days of playing in the mud with the friends on their Huffy bikes. We love them despite the fact they can sit in a recliner all day watching the ENTIRE Star Wars movie package and never once get up to do more than pop some popcorn and crack a beer. They’ll walk around the laundry pile to get to the cabinet that holds the hunting and fishing gear so they can run out fly fishing the next morning at 5 am. We love them despite the fact that they listen to the movies in surround sound so loud your ear drums will pop but are tone deaf to the buzz of the dryer telling them the towels are indeed dry enough to fold and put away.

So love them because it’s not going to get much better. My mom will tell you, she’s been married going on 50 years to one and he still doesn’t get it!

BTW, I usually cram these little bits of wisdom out during a "smoke break" which also happens to be my next topic. So I’m getting off my soapbox to return to work but tune in tomorrow…it’ll be a good one!

A Mommy Moment...in a not so happy place!

2008-02-13T16:27:00.000-06:00

That was my thought at 11:30 pm last night after several hours trying to get SweetTater to sleep.

I'm telling you now, it was not a fun night in my household. I was tired after working 10 hours at Cat and going home to attempt dinner and play time with the kids. Maurice decided he needed "play time" also but the adult variety so off he went for a boy night with Cliff. Leaving me with one very pissed off little boy, one teething baby and one growing headache.

It got better.

SweetTater had filled her tummy with her night-night bottle and was comfy in her jammies...dreamland awaited. She wiggled a bit but finally gave up the fight about 7:45 pm. Late for her but not too bad.

Tater went to bed relatively easily after a few tears for Daddy to tuck him in to bed. After promising that Daddy would indeed come in the minute he got home, he settled down. It only took a few threats to keep him in bed until sleep finally overtook him.

~sigh~

Finally, a chance to soak my still healing foot and possibly chat with my BFF for a few minutes. It took me about 15 minutes to get everything situated and settle my foot in the warm water. 15 minutes later all hell broke loose. Just kidding.

SweetTater decided she'd napped enough and wanted her mommy and she wanted her NOW. 5 minutes ago would be better. 8:40...hmm, I bet she's woken up because her little mouth hurts. Some Orajel and a few teething tablets should calm her down enough to let her drift off to sleep, right? Wrong. She calmed down all right...and then decided it was time to bounce on my bed while pulling my hair. About 15 minutes later, she decided it was not fun anymore and she wasn't happy again. Lots of crying ensued...and I mean lots. Nothing worked...holding, rocking, humming, singing, none of it. Ok, time for the big guns....infant Tylenol. After another 20 minutes and no change, I called DH and asked him to come home. I was not cutting the mustard with our daughter and I was calling in reinforcements. The Queen was NOT happy and I was slowly going crazy. DH didn't make me feel better by telling me (like I hadn't thought of it already) that her mouth probably hurt (DUH!) and to just give her a bottle.

Another 20 minutes later, I gave in and made a bottle. She took about 6 ounces and was quiet for a few minutes while watching "Just Desserts" on Hallmark with me. A belch and a dry diaper later....she was ready for more entertainment. Daddy finally arrived home and she took one look at him, held up her arms and started that pitiful little cry designed to weaken any man's heart. He went to the bathroom and by the time he came back she was letting the neighborhood know she was displeased with her father. He took her out to the living room to our play mat (AKA a full size egg crate on the floor covered with a comforter) and proceeded to play with her for a while.
He got exasperated when she still wasn't sleepy at 10:45 so he decided to put her in her bed to "cry it out" ~ AM, I don't know how you and your DH managed to do this and not rip your hair out by the root running screaming through Greenbrier.

I took it for 10 minutes before I went in to discover she had FINALLY ..... managed to get herself into a seated position from laying on her back. First time doing this. I calmed her down, changed her diaper AGAIN and asked for 4 ounces of formula thinking we were surely on our way to some ZZzzz's. She had a couple ounces before deciding she was done with that and just wanted a tight snuggle. It took me until 11:30 to get her asleep enough to put her down. WHEW!

I know now why some mothers eat their young....J/K!

I guess I have forgotten what it's like to fight an infant for sleep. I don't like it!

Anyway, I hope this made you giggle a bit and makes your day brighter.

Chocolate chip WHAT?

2008-02-13T16:23:00.000-06:00

Ok, so this morning's soapbox is about chocolate chip muffins. Totally my opinion. You may agree or disagree, your choice!

Who the heck eats these things? I mean, seriously, do chocolate chips really belong in breakfast foods? Not in my opinion. You go into your local bakery or in my case the dining center downstairs in my building to get something for breakfast that is not soaked in fat and sugar. Don't necessarily feel like a bagel since there are only two flavors. Toast is unappealing as well. So I look over at the muffin selection. Hmmm, my interest is peaked. Warm baked goods always peak my interest. After a few moments deliberation, I select a very nice looking blueberry muffin. Don't ask me why I didn't just grab the closest one but it's kind of like picking a chip from the tortilla chip basket at the Mexcian restaurant...you have to have THAT ONE.

Anyway, I grabbed my muffin, some Promise spread, and a banana. I'm ready to make my way back to my desk for my well deserved breakfast treat. After slowly making my way to my desk (the fashionable "boot" makes a pace faster than a snail almost impossible), I slowly peel off the paper cup to discover....

.....my blueberry muffin is not blueberry at all!

It's chocolate chip! WHAT THE HECK?

A feeling of disgust overwhelmed me and I sat starting at my muffin for a moment. Truly deciding if I was going to attempt to eat it or just chuck it at the next person who walks by...this made me smile. Alas, I like my co-workers so decided against pelting anyone with a chocolate chip muffin. Besides, my tummy was growling. Deciding it was better than nothing, I broke off a piece and took a bite.

GAG!

Seriously, chocolate chips do not belong in a muffin. They are nasty in breakfast foods.

Butter did not help.

After managing to choke down about 2 bites of the muffin, I decided it was a lost cause and circular filed it.

The banana was great and thankfully, I have a couple packets of oatmeal if I decide I have to eat something else.

I will finish by saying this...chocolate chips do not belong in breakfast foods. They belong in cookies and other baked DESSERTS or SNACKS!

I'm climbing off the soapbox now. Have a great day.

Press "1"

2008-02-13T16:19:00.000-06:00

It's soapbox time again for me. This is not necessarily a "Mommy" blog but I'm fired up so here goes.

Today's subject is "Press 1 for English and Press NOTHING for a live person"

Recently I have had to make a few phone calls to the mortgage company and insurance companies. No big deal, right? Ordinarily it wouldn't be if you needed to check a balance or payment date or even a payment address. But if you have a question that has more depth...sit back and get comfy. Hope you have a speaker phone because you are going to be there for a while.

A simple phone call immediately takes on an annoying quality for me when the first thing I have to do is press 1 for English. MY OWN LANGUAGE. A language spoken fluently throughout the world and I have to choose it. I'm calling from the US to a company located in the US and still have to choose the language in which we both speak! Don't even get me started on US based companies who now outsource their customer service overseas...I'll rant for hours about that.
But I digress.

I believe that this particular annoyance is probably consider such by the majority of callers regardless of the purpose for their call. I'm not going to spout off about how we live in an English speaking country and that immigrants should be required or at the least greatly encouraged to immediately develop a rudimentary working knowledge of the language widely accepted as THE language in this country. That being said, if you need to establish an account that might require calling into a customer service center, you should first have to speak the predominant language of said business in order to fill out the paperwork and establish the account!

How in the world would I establish electrical service in Zimbabwe or Brazil if I did not in fact know enough of the language to communicate my need! Of course, I am one of those pesky intelligent, educated people who would learn basic phrases BEFORE I went to said country.
I think I have a solution to the "Press 1 for English" problem.....make speakers of other languages press 1!

"Thank you for calling XYZ Company. We value our customers and would like to expedite your call as quickly as possible. If you speak a language other than English, please press 1. For English speaking customers, please hold the line for the next LIVE representative to assist you."

That leads me to my next rant....how hard can companies make it to get to a live person on the phone. In this day and age, most people first go to the internet to attempt to answer their question. If I'm calling you it's because the basic information on the internet could not answer my question or correct my problem. So running through 10,000 voice prompts to review the same basic information IS NOT NECESSARY. Give me a choice to speak to a live person. And don't, I repeat, don't hang up on me after making so many "wrong" choices.

I called my mortgage company to ensure the receipt of our new home owners insurance policy and it literally took me 30 minutes to get to a live person. That was after two other phone calls in which I was never able to get past the voice prompts and got hung up on both times. I swear, I wanted to throw the phone across the room. Thank goodness I wasn't calling from my cell phone or I'd have run out of minutes.

Another lovely experience recently was also with my mortgage company. I needed to fax some information to a specific department. Fine, the fax number was supplied to me over the phone by the actual person it took me 30 minutes to get. It was also available on the internet. No problem. Now three weeks have passed and there have been numerous attempts on my part to confirm the receipt of the information I faxed but.....wait for it....I can not obtain a phone number for that department to call them. The live person I was able to reach again in customer service told me that they don't have a phone number. Only a fax number. Apparently whenever anyone in the company needs to speak to these people they have to fax them also.

Sounds like Nirvana, doesn't it? Never have to talk to annoying co-workers again...make them fax you!

So now I sit and continue trying to figure out why I haven't heard anything from them regarding my fax and how I can get in on the "fax only" action.

Here's a thought...I bet if I don't pay the payment, I'll have more phone calls than Ma Bell!

In a nutshell, I don't want to press 1 for English and I want to speak to a live person within the first 2-3 minutes of my call. That's it. I'm not asking for miracles here. Just a live person to speak to in a relatively short period of time without having to key in more numbers than the national debt. Oh and, I'd also like to request an English speaker on the other line.....a fluent one. But that's another blog.