I spent this morning standing on a hill behind my kids' school in 45 degree weather and a wicked wind, watching a rocket launch. It was very neat, even though the wind complicated things a bit. The kids had to use the smallest motor available, even though most had ordered bigger motors, and still at least half the rockets ended up on the roof.
Except for the one that went straight up, and plummeted back into the bystanders and landed nose first into the ground a foot and a half from a lady and her little kid who were looking in the opposite direction. Pay attention folks! Rockets launching!
I went to Sara's class yesterday to help with the reading program. I worked with 2 boys and granted, I am not a teacher, but they didn't seem to need that much help to me. I'll go every other Wednesday afternoon. The room mom that helped me get started was really nice. And now I'm bringing juice bags for the Halloween party tomorrow. Must. Stop. Volunteering.
Some questions I currently have:
- When did they start putting pockets on Snuggies?
- Why would "SVU" be a rerun on the same week "Fringe" is not on due to the World Series?
- When did "That 70s Show" change Lauries? I liked the first Laurie better.
- Why do I watch so much TV? It's not on the list of things Mitch and Sara say I do all day.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Happy Birthday!
It's Mitch's birthday and as much as I'd like to write a post about him, he would not at all appreciate it. I think he does not feel the same level of comfort in disclosing all his life secrets over the Internet that I do. He's funny that way.
So let's just suffice it to say that it's his birthday. It's pretty much a normal day, work for him, school for the kids, Scouts for Jacob and the like. So we'll be doing something nice for dinner over the weekend. Because I am the queen of last minute, I went out and got him some gifts this morning. It's somewhat comforting to know that even after 16 years of marriage, and 19 years together, I still have no idea what to get him. Asking him is pointless, because it would either involve a trip to Cabela's to get something I have no idea about, or he says he doesn't want anything. Which is how, one of the first years we were married, he got a flashlight and a handheld video poker game for his birthday.
For the record, we still have the poker game. So I guess it wasn't a bad purchase after all.
***************************************************
Yesterday's post generated some response, which is good. It's good to know someone is reading this. Another point I wanted to make, but didn't think of til later is this: Once you have that really good dog, that is the dog all future dogs will be measured against. That's it.
***************************************************
I am volunteering in Sara's class this afternoon, helping kids with reading. Which generated humor from Mitch and horror from Sara. And then this charming conversation:
Mitch: "Come on Sara, reading is what your Mom does all day,"
Sara: "No, she also yells at the dog and Facebooks,"
This is what they think I do all day. While apparently, the laundry, cleaning, cooking and driving fairies come around and pick up the slack so I devote all my time to reading, Facebooking and yelling at the dog.
They'll both be singing a different tune when they're out of clean underwear at the end of the week. Maybe they can write a book about it. I have time to read it apparently.
So let's just suffice it to say that it's his birthday. It's pretty much a normal day, work for him, school for the kids, Scouts for Jacob and the like. So we'll be doing something nice for dinner over the weekend. Because I am the queen of last minute, I went out and got him some gifts this morning. It's somewhat comforting to know that even after 16 years of marriage, and 19 years together, I still have no idea what to get him. Asking him is pointless, because it would either involve a trip to Cabela's to get something I have no idea about, or he says he doesn't want anything. Which is how, one of the first years we were married, he got a flashlight and a handheld video poker game for his birthday.
For the record, we still have the poker game. So I guess it wasn't a bad purchase after all.
***************************************************
Yesterday's post generated some response, which is good. It's good to know someone is reading this. Another point I wanted to make, but didn't think of til later is this: Once you have that really good dog, that is the dog all future dogs will be measured against. That's it.
***************************************************
I am volunteering in Sara's class this afternoon, helping kids with reading. Which generated humor from Mitch and horror from Sara. And then this charming conversation:
Mitch: "Come on Sara, reading is what your Mom does all day,"
Sara: "No, she also yells at the dog and Facebooks,"
This is what they think I do all day. While apparently, the laundry, cleaning, cooking and driving fairies come around and pick up the slack so I devote all my time to reading, Facebooking and yelling at the dog.
They'll both be singing a different tune when they're out of clean underwear at the end of the week. Maybe they can write a book about it. I have time to read it apparently.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Dog Tales
I have a theory about dogs. Want to hear it? Well, you must or you wouldn't be here. And if you don't, that's too bad because here it is:
You only get to own one really good dog in your life.
There, I said it. Dispute it if you will, but that's my belief based on a not-so-random sampling of people I know who own dogs. My experience is that it's usually your first dog. Maybe because it's like your first kid: they somehow know you don't know what you're doing so they tend to be a little more understanding. By the second dog, you know what to expect and what you want in a dog and are less tolerant of stuff.
And to clarify: I generally find that it's the first dog you own as an adult. I had some really good dogs as a kid: Holly and Bill, specifically. But they were both the first dogs owned by my parents. Holly was my mom and Kim's dog, Bill my dad and Nancy's. Good dogs. And I loved them. But they weren't MY dogs.
My dogs were Abby, Sophie, Tiyo, Murphy, Dibbs and now Gracie.
Abby was the chosen dog. Mitch took 30 days leave from the Navy when we got Abby as a 12-week-old Newfoundland puppy. (Please note: He took 4 days off when Jacob was born. Our firstborn child. FOUR DAYS.) Abby didn't drool, she was smart, obedient, and other than the mounds of black fur she left everywhere, perfect. She loved kids and was great with them. My kids crawled on her, pulled themselves up by grabbing her ears and pretended to ride her. She died at 10, which is really old for a Newfoundland, of arthritis. She rarely barked, didn't get on the couch, and only slept on the bed when invited. She didn't try to eat the cats. Really good dog.
Sophie was a Newfoundland puppy we only had for 3 weeks. We sent her back to the breeder because she had a birth defect. But even in those 3 weeks, she was completely different. She was stubborn. She refused to walk on a leash and Mitch spent those 3 weeks dragging her through the grass in the backyard by the leash. She had a bladder problem that was the result of poor breeding. (Always check your breeders folks, the good ones aren't in it for the money.)
Tiyo we got when he was 2 years old. Also a Newfoundland and big as a house. And DUMB as a STUMP. God help us, that dog was dumb. The only living Newfoundland who was afraid of water. He would walk AROUND puddles. When we took him and Abby to the lake, he would wade in to his dog ankles and stand there, shaking and drooling, while Abby swam and swam for hours. He drooled like crazy anytime someone different would come into the house. We had to keep old towels around to clean up the drool. He was a farm dog and when we got him, he had never seen stairs. His technique was to go down them as fast as possible. I always said I'd find him at the bottom of the stairs with a broken neck one day, or in the tub drowned in an inch of water. He died at 12, when we had to have him put down. No one told him Newfoundlands don't live to be 12.
Then there was Murphy. A good dog candidate, except for his pesky habit of biting kids faces. He would have been good if he had had a better puppyhood, I just know it.
Dibbs was my nephew Joe's dog, who we fostered when Joe went into the Air Force. And Joe would probably say he was a good dog. But he wasn't really our dog - we only had him for a few months before he went to visit his grandmother for a holiday and just never came home. Lisa needed him more than we did, and she was definitely due a good dog after Riley, the wild beast. Dibbs was goofy looking and had a tiny little head stuck on his fat body. He reminded me of Yoda and whenever I pretended he was talking, it always came out in Yoda-speak. "My head to small for my body it is" and stuff like that.
And now Gracie. I don't know what it is about this dog that drives me crazy. Maybe it's her habit of jumping up on the couch, even though she knows she's not allowed. Maybe it's her favorite game: unrolling the toilet paper. Or her other favorite game: taking tissues out of the box on the end table. She's starting to grow on me some, but she's got a look in her eye that tells me it's going to be a long road. I like my dogs big and lazy and this one is not there yet. Once we get past this puppy stage, I think we'll turn a corner. Let's hope so anyway.
But I still stand by my theory. One really good dog in your lifetime. Once you have that really good dog, the others might not quite measure up. Sure, I loved all those other dogs - especially Murphy, in spite of his obvious flaws - because they were all good dogs in their own ways. Tiyo was a good dog, so was Dibbs and so is Gracie. But really good dogs?
Those are hard to find.
You only get to own one really good dog in your life.
There, I said it. Dispute it if you will, but that's my belief based on a not-so-random sampling of people I know who own dogs. My experience is that it's usually your first dog. Maybe because it's like your first kid: they somehow know you don't know what you're doing so they tend to be a little more understanding. By the second dog, you know what to expect and what you want in a dog and are less tolerant of stuff.
And to clarify: I generally find that it's the first dog you own as an adult. I had some really good dogs as a kid: Holly and Bill, specifically. But they were both the first dogs owned by my parents. Holly was my mom and Kim's dog, Bill my dad and Nancy's. Good dogs. And I loved them. But they weren't MY dogs.
My dogs were Abby, Sophie, Tiyo, Murphy, Dibbs and now Gracie.
Abby was the chosen dog. Mitch took 30 days leave from the Navy when we got Abby as a 12-week-old Newfoundland puppy. (Please note: He took 4 days off when Jacob was born. Our firstborn child. FOUR DAYS.) Abby didn't drool, she was smart, obedient, and other than the mounds of black fur she left everywhere, perfect. She loved kids and was great with them. My kids crawled on her, pulled themselves up by grabbing her ears and pretended to ride her. She died at 10, which is really old for a Newfoundland, of arthritis. She rarely barked, didn't get on the couch, and only slept on the bed when invited. She didn't try to eat the cats. Really good dog.
Sophie was a Newfoundland puppy we only had for 3 weeks. We sent her back to the breeder because she had a birth defect. But even in those 3 weeks, she was completely different. She was stubborn. She refused to walk on a leash and Mitch spent those 3 weeks dragging her through the grass in the backyard by the leash. She had a bladder problem that was the result of poor breeding. (Always check your breeders folks, the good ones aren't in it for the money.)
Tiyo we got when he was 2 years old. Also a Newfoundland and big as a house. And DUMB as a STUMP. God help us, that dog was dumb. The only living Newfoundland who was afraid of water. He would walk AROUND puddles. When we took him and Abby to the lake, he would wade in to his dog ankles and stand there, shaking and drooling, while Abby swam and swam for hours. He drooled like crazy anytime someone different would come into the house. We had to keep old towels around to clean up the drool. He was a farm dog and when we got him, he had never seen stairs. His technique was to go down them as fast as possible. I always said I'd find him at the bottom of the stairs with a broken neck one day, or in the tub drowned in an inch of water. He died at 12, when we had to have him put down. No one told him Newfoundlands don't live to be 12.
Then there was Murphy. A good dog candidate, except for his pesky habit of biting kids faces. He would have been good if he had had a better puppyhood, I just know it.
Dibbs was my nephew Joe's dog, who we fostered when Joe went into the Air Force. And Joe would probably say he was a good dog. But he wasn't really our dog - we only had him for a few months before he went to visit his grandmother for a holiday and just never came home. Lisa needed him more than we did, and she was definitely due a good dog after Riley, the wild beast. Dibbs was goofy looking and had a tiny little head stuck on his fat body. He reminded me of Yoda and whenever I pretended he was talking, it always came out in Yoda-speak. "My head to small for my body it is" and stuff like that.
And now Gracie. I don't know what it is about this dog that drives me crazy. Maybe it's her habit of jumping up on the couch, even though she knows she's not allowed. Maybe it's her favorite game: unrolling the toilet paper. Or her other favorite game: taking tissues out of the box on the end table. She's starting to grow on me some, but she's got a look in her eye that tells me it's going to be a long road. I like my dogs big and lazy and this one is not there yet. Once we get past this puppy stage, I think we'll turn a corner. Let's hope so anyway.
But I still stand by my theory. One really good dog in your lifetime. Once you have that really good dog, the others might not quite measure up. Sure, I loved all those other dogs - especially Murphy, in spite of his obvious flaws - because they were all good dogs in their own ways. Tiyo was a good dog, so was Dibbs and so is Gracie. But really good dogs?
Those are hard to find.
Maryann's Monday Madness
Either I missed this yesterday, or she really didn't post it until today, but here goes. You might know the drill by now: I copy these from my friend Maryann and then answer them. You can do the same, and then come back here and leave me a comment so I know you did it!
Where were you and what were you doing ten years ago? Let's see, ten years ago, we were in Kalamazoo and I would have been a stay-at-home mom to Jacob, who would have been 17 months, and pregnant with Sara. So I would have been TIRED.
What's the first play you ever saw live? Besides elementary school plays, I believe that would have been Diary of Anne Frank. Junior high.
Everyone has a trick they depend on, a shortcut for something like fixing a flat, curing a headache, making a kid stop crying, or choosing a cantaloupe. What's yours? My laundry shortcut is to give my kids two baskets in their rooms - one for whites, one for darks. Then I can just grab a basket and throw it in the washer. My trick for hiccups is to drink 10 swallows of water without taking a breath. It cures them every time. I think I learned this from my stepmother, who never failed to entertain us kids with her knowledge of such things.
What's one thing you can't start your day without? Pepsi or Dr. Pepper. Caffeinated soda of some sort.
Where were you and what were you doing ten years ago? Let's see, ten years ago, we were in Kalamazoo and I would have been a stay-at-home mom to Jacob, who would have been 17 months, and pregnant with Sara. So I would have been TIRED.
What's the first play you ever saw live? Besides elementary school plays, I believe that would have been Diary of Anne Frank. Junior high.
Everyone has a trick they depend on, a shortcut for something like fixing a flat, curing a headache, making a kid stop crying, or choosing a cantaloupe. What's yours? My laundry shortcut is to give my kids two baskets in their rooms - one for whites, one for darks. Then I can just grab a basket and throw it in the washer. My trick for hiccups is to drink 10 swallows of water without taking a breath. It cures them every time. I think I learned this from my stepmother, who never failed to entertain us kids with her knowledge of such things.
What's one thing you can't start your day without? Pepsi or Dr. Pepper. Caffeinated soda of some sort.
Monday, October 25, 2010
Sick & Tired
Ugh, I'm tired. I've got a cold that's been on the cusp for a few days. I think I caught it early enough that it's not developing into a full blown cold, but I'm just hovering on that line where I'm tired and achy and blah and not quite right. Okay, so maybe I've been "not quite right" for a while, but you know what I mean.
Somewhere in the middle of this feeling, Saturday evening, I banned the kids from playing video games for a week. The constant arguing is driving me insane. And then they start hitting or not hitting each other, depending on who is talking, i.e. "He hit me!" "No, I didn't, she kicked me!" "No, I didn't!" ENOUGH.
Yesterday was the first full day of no video games and it went fine. Sadly for them, I think we're on to something here.
So here's my new complaint. I am SO SO SO tired of fighting with them to do stuff that they volunteered to do. Like Science Club, band, Scouts, etc. The science fair is not mandatory this year I guess, but 4th through 6th graders could join this club after school on Tuesdays and still have a science fair. Both my kids wanted to do it. Jacob went on Tuesday, since Sara was at the dentist, and got the information and brought it home. They had to read a couple pages in this packet and fill out some worksheets. But would either of them do it? No.
And will Jacob practice his trumpet? No. Because most of the band kids are beginners and he's not, so "I don't need to practice that stuff, Mom."
Will Jacob read his Scout book to complete some more stuff he needs to advance? No. Because it's boring.
So this is what I told them last night, while I was high on cold medicine and just tired of all of it.
"These are all things you guys WANTED to do. Nobody is forcing you to do them. I take time out of my life to drive you to band, and to scouts, and to pick you up from Science Club, and I am happy to do it. But if you're not going to do what you are expected to do, it's not worth my time and gas. So if you don't practice your trumpet, I'm not taking you to band and we'll return the trumpet and save ourselves $30 a month. And if you won't do your Science Club work, then you will quit. And when you go to Scouts and they ask you why you haven't worked on this stuff, you can tell them you don't want to and then we won't drive you to Scouts anymore. It doesn't matter to me anymore and I'm not going to drive myself crazy making you do the work. Because I AM DONE."
Well, the Science Club work got done. And Jacob may have read his Scout book, but I don't know for sure. I know there was no trumpet practice.
Was that too hard a line? I don't know and honestly, don't care. He's 11 and he wants to do this stuff. The Scout stuff is way different, because now he's a Boy Scout and the boys are expected to take responsibility for their own advancement. It's not troop driven anymore, it's boy driven. And if the boy is lazy and only wants to play video games, then he won't succeed. But it's not up to the leaders to take him by the hand and drag him through it. Mitch and I will help him as much as we can, as long as he's willing to do the work. But I will not try to force him to do it. Because trying to force Jacob to do anything is pointless. The harder you try, the more he resists. I can bang my head against the wall on my own time over my own issues, thank you very much.
And it's not all Jacob. Sara just usually caves much easier. We went through something very much like this with Sara over softball. Complain, whine, moan. We made it through that season, but the next year when she wanted to play again we had a similar conversation. You complain about going to practice or games and you won't go. Ever. Again. And she didn't complain last season.
They can complain all they want about school and homework. They still have to do it and I still have to make them. I'm good with that. But all this extra stuff? No thanks.
Somewhere in the middle of this feeling, Saturday evening, I banned the kids from playing video games for a week. The constant arguing is driving me insane. And then they start hitting or not hitting each other, depending on who is talking, i.e. "He hit me!" "No, I didn't, she kicked me!" "No, I didn't!" ENOUGH.
Yesterday was the first full day of no video games and it went fine. Sadly for them, I think we're on to something here.
So here's my new complaint. I am SO SO SO tired of fighting with them to do stuff that they volunteered to do. Like Science Club, band, Scouts, etc. The science fair is not mandatory this year I guess, but 4th through 6th graders could join this club after school on Tuesdays and still have a science fair. Both my kids wanted to do it. Jacob went on Tuesday, since Sara was at the dentist, and got the information and brought it home. They had to read a couple pages in this packet and fill out some worksheets. But would either of them do it? No.
And will Jacob practice his trumpet? No. Because most of the band kids are beginners and he's not, so "I don't need to practice that stuff, Mom."
Will Jacob read his Scout book to complete some more stuff he needs to advance? No. Because it's boring.
So this is what I told them last night, while I was high on cold medicine and just tired of all of it.
"These are all things you guys WANTED to do. Nobody is forcing you to do them. I take time out of my life to drive you to band, and to scouts, and to pick you up from Science Club, and I am happy to do it. But if you're not going to do what you are expected to do, it's not worth my time and gas. So if you don't practice your trumpet, I'm not taking you to band and we'll return the trumpet and save ourselves $30 a month. And if you won't do your Science Club work, then you will quit. And when you go to Scouts and they ask you why you haven't worked on this stuff, you can tell them you don't want to and then we won't drive you to Scouts anymore. It doesn't matter to me anymore and I'm not going to drive myself crazy making you do the work. Because I AM DONE."
Well, the Science Club work got done. And Jacob may have read his Scout book, but I don't know for sure. I know there was no trumpet practice.
Was that too hard a line? I don't know and honestly, don't care. He's 11 and he wants to do this stuff. The Scout stuff is way different, because now he's a Boy Scout and the boys are expected to take responsibility for their own advancement. It's not troop driven anymore, it's boy driven. And if the boy is lazy and only wants to play video games, then he won't succeed. But it's not up to the leaders to take him by the hand and drag him through it. Mitch and I will help him as much as we can, as long as he's willing to do the work. But I will not try to force him to do it. Because trying to force Jacob to do anything is pointless. The harder you try, the more he resists. I can bang my head against the wall on my own time over my own issues, thank you very much.
And it's not all Jacob. Sara just usually caves much easier. We went through something very much like this with Sara over softball. Complain, whine, moan. We made it through that season, but the next year when she wanted to play again we had a similar conversation. You complain about going to practice or games and you won't go. Ever. Again. And she didn't complain last season.
They can complain all they want about school and homework. They still have to do it and I still have to make them. I'm good with that. But all this extra stuff? No thanks.
Friday, October 22, 2010
Fun Fact Friday
I had another post written out, but it went nowhere. So here you go, Fun Fact Friday. Believe me, you're grateful.
The names of Popeye's four nephews are Pipeye, Peepeye, Pupeye, and Poopeye!
It's illegal to drink beer out of a bucket while you're sitting on a curb in St. Louis! (Nancy's note: I don't know if it's illegal to throw up in said bucket after you drink all the beer.)
It's against the law to pawn your dentures in Las Vegas!
In Natoma, Kansas, it's illegal to throw knives at men wearing striped suits. (Nancy's note: It might be illegal, but it's certainly understandable.)
The average American/Canadian drinks about 600 sodas a year! (As I always suspected, I am well above average!)
You'll eat about 35,000 cookies in a lifetime! Wow! (Again, I am above average here.)
A person uses approximately fifty-seven sheets of toilet paper each day! (Probably because of all that soda they drink.)
The names of Popeye's four nephews are Pipeye, Peepeye, Pupeye, and Poopeye!
It's illegal to drink beer out of a bucket while you're sitting on a curb in St. Louis! (Nancy's note: I don't know if it's illegal to throw up in said bucket after you drink all the beer.)
It's against the law to pawn your dentures in Las Vegas!
In Natoma, Kansas, it's illegal to throw knives at men wearing striped suits. (Nancy's note: It might be illegal, but it's certainly understandable.)
The average American/Canadian drinks about 600 sodas a year! (As I always suspected, I am well above average!)
You'll eat about 35,000 cookies in a lifetime! Wow! (Again, I am above average here.)
A person uses approximately fifty-seven sheets of toilet paper each day! (Probably because of all that soda they drink.)
Men are 6 times more likely to be struck by lightning than women! (Because they often say "May God strike me down if I'm lying...)
Every 45 seconds, a house catches on fire in the United States! (This isn't that odd, except for when I first read it, I thought it said a HORSE catches on fire, which did seem odd.)
Happy Friday folks! Have a good weekend!
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
9 to 5
I am not a business owner, nor do I aspire to be. I am not a head honcho type either. I am a secretary, plain and simple. I started when I was 18 and I've been at a few different companies, but pretty much always in the same capacity. Administrative support, administrative assistant, secretary, receptionist, clerical, office help, whatever you want to call it. It's all the same.
I'm the person who does a lot of the work so higher-ups don't have to. I'm the person who gets dumped on when something bad happens. I'm the first person most callers encounter, whether it's because I answer the phone or because the phone tree led them to my extension. So I'm the first person they can yell at.
I have always enjoyed my jobs. (Well, mostly.) Sure, people may yell at me for no good reason - because hello higher-ups, being a jerk is actually NOT a good reason - but those are the same people who will come to me when they realize they actually don't know how to do their own jobs without my help. If customers yell too much, I transfer them to someone else who gets paid more to listen even if they still don't know how to solve the problem.
So I feel a little bit qualified - because I think 20+ years of secretarial work does make me qualified - to give bosses/owners/anyone whose title is a series of letters that stand for something longer, a little employee relations advice.
Please note: Below, "secretary" is used as a generic term for any office help you currently employ.
In the words of the Lorax, I speak for the trees. So listen up, tree killers.
So the bottom line is this: be nice to your secretary, receptionist, office help, whatever. Don't be an arrogant fool. Your job might be very important. But so is ours. Maybe more than yours. Because we make it possible for you to do your job well. And if you piss us off, we can make you look like an idiot. But if we're at this point, it probably wouldn't take too much to do that.
Ever see the movie "9 to 5"? Go back and watch it. See what happens when bosses get too full of themselves. I suspect that was based on a true story. Except for Dolly Parton's chest size anyway.
Please note: Below, "secretary" is used as a generic term for any office help you currently employ.
- You cannot survive without your secretary. You may THINK you can, but you really can't. (One company I worked for unplugged their fax machine a month after I left because there was a paper jam and no one knew how to fix it. True story. Sad, but true.) The work we do is the stuff you can't be troubled to worry about. Sure, you can type on your little laptop and print to the office printer and call us repeatedly on your little cell phone, but we are the ones who know where to order the printer ink and who to call when the printer breaks down. We know where to order pens, and while you certainly can keep bringing them from home or stealing them from the banks, eventually wouldn't you just rather go to the supply cabinet and get one? Yes, you would. And we're the ones who make sure there are pens in there. The specific type of pen you like. We know that stuff, even if we roll our eyes at your insistence.
- In every office, there are two types of secretaries: those who do the work and those who shuffle papers around to make you think they do the work. And let's face it, you know who is who. If you don't have the - hmm, let's say SPINE - to fire the ones who shuffle, then you don't. We know you don't. But it doesn't mean you can shift all of a shuffler's work to the actual workers. It's annoying and makes us crabby. And you should know you don't want us crabby. Because eventually, we'll get frustrated and leave to work someplace else and you'll be stuck with an office full of shufflers who unplug the fax machine to stop the constant beeping. See previous paragraph.
- Don't ever - EVER EVER EVER - say we're replaceable. We might be, and we know that, but here's the bigger secret: SO ARE YOU. The difference is, you don't seem to know it. One company I worked for transferred executives every couple of years. Example: In 7 years, I worked for 7 different executives. I knew all the employees, I knew the business, I knew the customers, I knew the terminology. I knew the history of the office, the gossip and the best place for a salad at lunch. I knew the bars we hit after finishing a big project. My last executive came into my office - because I had been there so long, I had an office - a few weeks after he transferred in and said to me "I've asked around, and while no one here can tell me exactly WHAT you do, they all agree that things don't go well when you're not here. So I'm giving you a new title and a raise." There was a man who knew what was what. We got along great after that. Because to transition right into my next point:
- Flattery is nice. Praise is nice. But if you really want us to like you, give us a raise. Don't give us a big speech about tough economy, industry depression, blah blah blah. Don't give us a "performance bonus" that is based on goals that are unattainable or based on the performance of others. (See previous paragraph regarding shufflers.) Just show us the money. Base it on a performance review if you must, but give us something. Because nothing says "I don't think you're important" like not giving us a yearly pay increase while you attend "industry conferences" on a damn cruise ship or some tropical island after parking your brand new car in the airport parking lot. We're not stupid. No real work gets done at those conferences. I've been to them and once you get off the plane and collect your luggage, all the work is done. We've seen you come back from those conferences so hungover you admitted that you threw up in a little bag on the entire flight home. So shut up and put some extra money in my paycheck. That will get you off the hook for a few weeks, at least.
- Finally, if you came to your position by moving up the ranks, don't forget that you were once one of us. If not a secretary, you were once just a regular old peon with no real power. We may have liked you then. We may have hung out and had drinks. We may have laughed at the higher ups with you about their over-blown sense of importance. We may have skipped out on the afternoon and sat in a bar to celebrate the end of a big project until we were all too drunk to drive home. Once you move up the ladder, we don't forget that, even if you would like us too. Don't expect us still be your "buddy" if you're going to turn around and tell us to "just quit complaining and do what I tell you". It doesn't work that way. You don't get our respect because of your title, you still have to earn it. (Or earn it back if you are stupid enough to say something like that.) I'll do my job, without question, but all the other stuff I do that really isn't part of my job? Yeah, that will go right out the window if you start walking around with your head all swelled up and acting like a jerk. So just don't do it. Or you may find that your tuna sandwich isn't quite cold. Or that client you've been avoiding is suddenly ringing through to your cell phone. These things happen when your secretary is unhappy.
So the bottom line is this: be nice to your secretary, receptionist, office help, whatever. Don't be an arrogant fool. Your job might be very important. But so is ours. Maybe more than yours. Because we make it possible for you to do your job well. And if you piss us off, we can make you look like an idiot. But if we're at this point, it probably wouldn't take too much to do that.
Ever see the movie "9 to 5"? Go back and watch it. See what happens when bosses get too full of themselves. I suspect that was based on a true story. Except for Dolly Parton's chest size anyway.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
To The Teeth
Sara has a dentist appointment today to get a cap on one of her teeth. When she went in last week for a cleaning, she was complaining that one of her teeth hurt. They came back and said she had 9 cavities. (The one she was complaining about was down to the root. That's the one that needs the cap.) She was crushed, not that she's scared to get the fillings, but since she wants to be a dentist when she grows up. And she's so competitive, I think she views a cleaning as a test and 9 cavities is a bad grade indeed.
But here's the thing - she had a cleaning not even a year ago. She's a little behind due to the move, but it hasn't been more than 9 months since her last one. And that dentist supposedly "sealed" her teeth, to prevent cavities. So how does she go from no issues less than a year ago to 9 cavities? I have to believe one of these dentists is doing us wrong here. Either the first dentist didn't catch things or this one is trying to soak us.
I sure wish we had a dentist in the family that could clue us in here. Oh wait...
Darn far away family.
She does have the pain in the one so we'll get that taken care of today. Then I think I'll make an appointment for Jacob and see what they say about him. Because if his cleaning comes back the same way, I think we're going to have to get another opinion.
And there isn't a shortage of dentists around here, believe me.
Once we get that squared away, we need to get Sara to an orthodontist. That child's head is costing me a fortune these days, I tell you.
Side note: I'm still getting used to typing on this laptop, so please forgive any typographical errors here. I'll get the hang of it eventually I'm sure.
But here's the thing - she had a cleaning not even a year ago. She's a little behind due to the move, but it hasn't been more than 9 months since her last one. And that dentist supposedly "sealed" her teeth, to prevent cavities. So how does she go from no issues less than a year ago to 9 cavities? I have to believe one of these dentists is doing us wrong here. Either the first dentist didn't catch things or this one is trying to soak us.
I sure wish we had a dentist in the family that could clue us in here. Oh wait...
Darn far away family.
She does have the pain in the one so we'll get that taken care of today. Then I think I'll make an appointment for Jacob and see what they say about him. Because if his cleaning comes back the same way, I think we're going to have to get another opinion.
And there isn't a shortage of dentists around here, believe me.
Once we get that squared away, we need to get Sara to an orthodontist. That child's head is costing me a fortune these days, I tell you.
Side note: I'm still getting used to typing on this laptop, so please forgive any typographical errors here. I'll get the hang of it eventually I'm sure.
Ten on Tuesday
Ten Things I Have to Do Today
- Get stickers for Jacob's book project
- Take Sara to the dentist
- Pick up Jacob from Science Fair meeting
- Take Jacob to band
- Get van inspected
- Pick up pictures from Walgreen's
- Run dishwasher
- Get dog food
- Call Art Van and get address changed for our bill
- Blog
Saturday, October 16, 2010
And Justice for All
While I maintain my dislike for the store Justice, I do have to say Sara and I got some good stuff there this morning. Three tank tops and two long sleeved shirts. I have to respect a store that realizes it's so overpriced that they are almost always running a 40% off coupon. (Wait - there's a sale at Kohl's! What a surprise!) But Sara needed tanks for some shirts I bought her at Target earlier this week and when she was trying some on, I found some other shirts. I refuse to buy jeans there however - I cannot in any way justify paying $42.50 for jeans for my 9-year-old. Even with a 40% off coupon.
But this Justice wasn't so bad. My main complaint about that store is that it's so crowded. They cram about 9 million things into a building only big enough for 4 million and it makes me seriously claustrophobic. But this one only had about 7 million things crammed in there. So it was almost bearable. But for the sparkly, glittery things. Oh for the love of God, the sparkly, glittery things. It's enough to induce a seizure.
Hey, I could probably have saved a lot of drama with Sara's EEG and just taken her to Justice after some sleep deprivation.
It's times like this that I miss Jenni. She always took the girls to the mall and to Justice so I never had to. Oddly, she seemed to enjoy it. I don't get it either, but it's good to have a friend that will do that kind of stuff with your daughter so you don't have to.
The one time I took Sara and Abby to the mall - for whatever reason, I think it was something to do with Girl Scouts - and when we left we walked through the food court. (That's where I always park when I go to a mall so I can find my car when I leave. Shut up. I have a terrible memory and am a creature of habit. If I parked anywhere else, I'd never get to leave.) The girls looked at me expectantly as we headed toward the exit.
"Can we have a treat?" one of them asked.
"No, we're leaving," Because we were coming from Girl Scouts and I was already at my wit's end and needed to get the heck out of there before I ended up on the news.
"But we were good!"
"Good behavior is its own reward," I told them.
The looks on their faces was priceless. To them, good behavior was not in any way its own reward. They needed cookies or smoothies.
I think right then they decided to only ever go to the mall with Jenni. Which, as I said, was fine with me. No mall, no Justice, no food court. I'm a library and Taco Bob's kind of girl. Quiet, empty places with side orders of nacho cheese.
Sorry Sara.
But this Justice wasn't so bad. My main complaint about that store is that it's so crowded. They cram about 9 million things into a building only big enough for 4 million and it makes me seriously claustrophobic. But this one only had about 7 million things crammed in there. So it was almost bearable. But for the sparkly, glittery things. Oh for the love of God, the sparkly, glittery things. It's enough to induce a seizure.
Hey, I could probably have saved a lot of drama with Sara's EEG and just taken her to Justice after some sleep deprivation.
It's times like this that I miss Jenni. She always took the girls to the mall and to Justice so I never had to. Oddly, she seemed to enjoy it. I don't get it either, but it's good to have a friend that will do that kind of stuff with your daughter so you don't have to.
The one time I took Sara and Abby to the mall - for whatever reason, I think it was something to do with Girl Scouts - and when we left we walked through the food court. (That's where I always park when I go to a mall so I can find my car when I leave. Shut up. I have a terrible memory and am a creature of habit. If I parked anywhere else, I'd never get to leave.) The girls looked at me expectantly as we headed toward the exit.
"Can we have a treat?" one of them asked.
"No, we're leaving," Because we were coming from Girl Scouts and I was already at my wit's end and needed to get the heck out of there before I ended up on the news.
"But we were good!"
"Good behavior is its own reward," I told them.
The looks on their faces was priceless. To them, good behavior was not in any way its own reward. They needed cookies or smoothies.
I think right then they decided to only ever go to the mall with Jenni. Which, as I said, was fine with me. No mall, no Justice, no food court. I'm a library and Taco Bob's kind of girl. Quiet, empty places with side orders of nacho cheese.
Sorry Sara.
Friday, October 15, 2010
Why Can't We Be Friends?
Here's a question that popped into my head last night: Can you be friends with someone if you don't like their kids? Or if your kids don't like their kids?
And don't give me that garbage: Everyone likes kids. Who doesn't like someone else's kids? Kids are a gift from God.
Well, yes they are. They may all be a gift from God, but sometimes I think God has a very well defined sense of humor. Sometimes other people's kids make you want to pull your hair out. And don't tell me you don't feel that way. If you were a parent at the school my kids attended in Michigan, and you did your lunch duty or chaperoned a field trip, you KNOW there is at least one kid where you would silently beg all the way in "Please let that kid be home sick today. PLEASE." (And this, dear reader, is why I don't teach. In case there was any question.)
We all have a friend who is married to someone we don't care much for. For whatever reason. Maybe that spouse is mean to our friend, or they have life views that differ from our own, or they look at you in a creepy kind of way that makes you want to run home and jump in a scalding hot shower for 6 or 7 hours. But you can get around that.
Anyone ever heard to "Girls Night Out"?
Leave the disliked spouse at home and go out with your friend. Done. Obviously, every once in a while, you will have to hang out with the spouse, but for the most part, you can avoid it.
Kids, though. Once you become a parent, your social network tends to constrict to the parents of your kid's friends. Whether you meet them at school, at church or at various kid activities, these are the people you see most often outside your own family. (Except co-workers. And they are an entirely different post.) These people have the same base of knowledge about teachers, coaches, field trips, camp outs, games, etc. This is where your kids make friends. Which is what you wanted, right?
Have you ever sat on a metal bleacher for the 3rd night in a row and struck up a conversation with a mom you've seen there too? And you start talking and complaining about the same things and laughing at the same silly jokes and think "Well, I like this lady. She's pretty cool."
And then her kid comes off the field, or out of the gym, or off the stage, and you stop and say "Ooooooh. THAT'S her kid. Yikes."
For whatever reason. Maybe her kid is mean to other kids. Maybe her kid is rude to you. Maybe her kid only talks about tractors and it drives your kid crazy. Who knows? But suddenly, you know, YOU KNOW, there will be no friendship with that lady. You don't want to go to her house because it means having to force your kid to play with hers. And if you've ever had to do that, you know it is so not worth the fight. So you make excuses - baseball, homework, grounded, family time, etc. She keeps inviting you and your kid to come over and you keep declining. So eventually, she stops asking.
Which is too bad, because you and she might have become great friends. Except for her kid. You can wait until the kids are older and try again. But by then you've probably lost touch.
I've made some great friends through my kids. Seriously. When your kid has a best friend and they spend all of their time together, you get to know the parents. And it's great when you all get along, and the kids get along, and the dogs get along, and blah blah blah. That whole "village and child" idea. But sometimes, it just wasn't meant to be.
Which begs the follow-up question: Can you let your kids be friends with someone if you don't like the parents? Hmmm...
And don't give me that garbage: Everyone likes kids. Who doesn't like someone else's kids? Kids are a gift from God.
Well, yes they are. They may all be a gift from God, but sometimes I think God has a very well defined sense of humor. Sometimes other people's kids make you want to pull your hair out. And don't tell me you don't feel that way. If you were a parent at the school my kids attended in Michigan, and you did your lunch duty or chaperoned a field trip, you KNOW there is at least one kid where you would silently beg all the way in "Please let that kid be home sick today. PLEASE." (And this, dear reader, is why I don't teach. In case there was any question.)
We all have a friend who is married to someone we don't care much for. For whatever reason. Maybe that spouse is mean to our friend, or they have life views that differ from our own, or they look at you in a creepy kind of way that makes you want to run home and jump in a scalding hot shower for 6 or 7 hours. But you can get around that.
Anyone ever heard to "Girls Night Out"?
Leave the disliked spouse at home and go out with your friend. Done. Obviously, every once in a while, you will have to hang out with the spouse, but for the most part, you can avoid it.
Kids, though. Once you become a parent, your social network tends to constrict to the parents of your kid's friends. Whether you meet them at school, at church or at various kid activities, these are the people you see most often outside your own family. (Except co-workers. And they are an entirely different post.) These people have the same base of knowledge about teachers, coaches, field trips, camp outs, games, etc. This is where your kids make friends. Which is what you wanted, right?
Have you ever sat on a metal bleacher for the 3rd night in a row and struck up a conversation with a mom you've seen there too? And you start talking and complaining about the same things and laughing at the same silly jokes and think "Well, I like this lady. She's pretty cool."
And then her kid comes off the field, or out of the gym, or off the stage, and you stop and say "Ooooooh. THAT'S her kid. Yikes."
For whatever reason. Maybe her kid is mean to other kids. Maybe her kid is rude to you. Maybe her kid only talks about tractors and it drives your kid crazy. Who knows? But suddenly, you know, YOU KNOW, there will be no friendship with that lady. You don't want to go to her house because it means having to force your kid to play with hers. And if you've ever had to do that, you know it is so not worth the fight. So you make excuses - baseball, homework, grounded, family time, etc. She keeps inviting you and your kid to come over and you keep declining. So eventually, she stops asking.
Which is too bad, because you and she might have become great friends. Except for her kid. You can wait until the kids are older and try again. But by then you've probably lost touch.
I've made some great friends through my kids. Seriously. When your kid has a best friend and they spend all of their time together, you get to know the parents. And it's great when you all get along, and the kids get along, and the dogs get along, and blah blah blah. That whole "village and child" idea. But sometimes, it just wasn't meant to be.
Which begs the follow-up question: Can you let your kids be friends with someone if you don't like the parents? Hmmm...
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Spiders & Snakes
Did you know I could spend the entire school year without having these mini-breaks? Yes, if you know me at all, you probably did. But I mean, my kids already come home early every Monday, do I want them here Thursday and Friday this week too? Clearly, the answer is no. But I just sent them out to walk the dog and then Sara has a dentist appointment at noon and Jacob has to go to the vet's office for the afternoon for his Veterinary Medicine Merit Badge for Boy Scouts. So that will help. But I like having my mornings quiet to do my Facebooking and write in this blog.
So - Boy Scouts. Jacob is liking this new troop. It's very small, no more than 10 boys at the most, I'd say. But that is good too, in that he can't blend in to the crowd and avoid doing things. Last night, at the Court of Honor, he got his Tenderfoot badge. And they want him to complete 2nd Class by Christmas. The Scoutmaster joked last night during Jacob's award that Jacob doesn't talk much. (I guess he's too tired from talking all day at school!) But these leaders are great and the boys are all really nice. They are going camping this weekend to shoot and do whatever else they do. There is a Merit Badge PowWow at BYU at the end of the month, where the boys could sign up to earn up to 3 merit badges. Jacob's only doing 2, since Mitch's dad and stepmother will be here the 2nd weekend of the PowWow. He's doing the Veterinary Medicine Badge and Geology.
There's a Girl Scout Troop that meets at the same place as Jacob's Boy Scouts. It's every other Wednesday from 4:30 to 6:30. Sara wants to try it out next week, so we'll do that. I'm putting off getting her back into gymnastics until after the first of the year. I'm a little hesitant to sign her up yet, what with the head injury and all. And hopefully by then, I'll have a job. Somewhere. Somehow.
On a side note: one of the scout leaders last night told us that tarantulas are not indigenous to Utah. People have them has pets - who are these people? What's wrong with them? - and then they get loose or the people set them free. For those who don't know, Mitch and Jacob saw one on a hike they took last Sunday. So I guess I don't really have to worry about random giant spiders getting in my house. I can focus on just being on the lookout for snakes. Yippee.
So - Boy Scouts. Jacob is liking this new troop. It's very small, no more than 10 boys at the most, I'd say. But that is good too, in that he can't blend in to the crowd and avoid doing things. Last night, at the Court of Honor, he got his Tenderfoot badge. And they want him to complete 2nd Class by Christmas. The Scoutmaster joked last night during Jacob's award that Jacob doesn't talk much. (I guess he's too tired from talking all day at school!) But these leaders are great and the boys are all really nice. They are going camping this weekend to shoot and do whatever else they do. There is a Merit Badge PowWow at BYU at the end of the month, where the boys could sign up to earn up to 3 merit badges. Jacob's only doing 2, since Mitch's dad and stepmother will be here the 2nd weekend of the PowWow. He's doing the Veterinary Medicine Badge and Geology.
There's a Girl Scout Troop that meets at the same place as Jacob's Boy Scouts. It's every other Wednesday from 4:30 to 6:30. Sara wants to try it out next week, so we'll do that. I'm putting off getting her back into gymnastics until after the first of the year. I'm a little hesitant to sign her up yet, what with the head injury and all. And hopefully by then, I'll have a job. Somewhere. Somehow.
On a side note: one of the scout leaders last night told us that tarantulas are not indigenous to Utah. People have them has pets - who are these people? What's wrong with them? - and then they get loose or the people set them free. For those who don't know, Mitch and Jacob saw one on a hike they took last Sunday. So I guess I don't really have to worry about random giant spiders getting in my house. I can focus on just being on the lookout for snakes. Yippee.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
I Used to Think
I used to think vampires were scary. Now I know they're sparkly. Which is scary in a whole different way.
I used to think bagels should taste like donuts. I'm still a little surprised every time I have one that they don't.
I used to think I was the only one who had no idea what I was doing.
I used to think I would die in a tornado. I guess spending every other weekend of your childhood in a trailer in Iowa will do that to you.
I used to think I should be an only child. Now I can't imagine life without my brothers and sisters. It might have been quieter, but not nearly as interesting.
I used to think you could leave the past behind. Thanks Facebook for beaming it right into my living room. (Kidding! I love you all, my Facebook friends from the past!) Now I know you are your past, you can't ever leave it behind. Without a lobotomy, that is.
I used to think I should finish every book I start. Life's too short to spend it reading a book you don't like. There are millions of books out there, go find another one.
I used to think all kinds of weird stuff that should probably have stayed locked up in my head. Then I started a blog to share it all with you.
I used to think bagels should taste like donuts. I'm still a little surprised every time I have one that they don't.
I used to think I was the only one who had no idea what I was doing.
I used to think I would die in a tornado. I guess spending every other weekend of your childhood in a trailer in Iowa will do that to you.
I used to think I should be an only child. Now I can't imagine life without my brothers and sisters. It might have been quieter, but not nearly as interesting.
I used to think you could leave the past behind. Thanks Facebook for beaming it right into my living room. (Kidding! I love you all, my Facebook friends from the past!) Now I know you are your past, you can't ever leave it behind. Without a lobotomy, that is.
I used to think I should finish every book I start. Life's too short to spend it reading a book you don't like. There are millions of books out there, go find another one.
I used to think all kinds of weird stuff that should probably have stayed locked up in my head. Then I started a blog to share it all with you.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Ten on Tuesday
10 Movies I Will Drop Everything and Watch
- Close Encounters of the Third Kind
- Men in Black
- A Beautiful Mind
- Zombieland
- 10 Things I Hate About You
- Legends of the Fall
- Troy
- Juno
- Satisfaction
- The Addams Family
Monday, October 11, 2010
Maryann's Monday Madness
I haven't done this since the first one she did, but on Mondays Maryann at The Zeller Family asks questions and challenges her readers answer them on their own blogs. Feel free to do the same on your blog. Come back and leave me a comment when you do, so I can go read your answers!
What's the one food you feel like you couldn't live without? Pasta
What's the one food you'd rather die than put in your mouth? Cottage cheese. Ewwww...
What's your greatest fear? I don't talk about things that I'm really afraid of. I prefer to lay awake at night and worry.
If you could go back in time and meet your 16-year-old self, what three things would you tell yourself? 1) Don't start coloring your hair yet - the perms are damaging enough! 2) Pay attention when people start shooting off fireworks near you; 3) Life gets easier after graduation.
What's the first thing that pops into your head when you think of your father? Golf
When you were little, what did you want to be when you grew up? A writer. Maybe I haven't quite outgrown that yet.
Thanks Maryann!
What's the one food you feel like you couldn't live without? Pasta
What's the one food you'd rather die than put in your mouth? Cottage cheese. Ewwww...
What's your greatest fear? I don't talk about things that I'm really afraid of. I prefer to lay awake at night and worry.
If you could go back in time and meet your 16-year-old self, what three things would you tell yourself? 1) Don't start coloring your hair yet - the perms are damaging enough! 2) Pay attention when people start shooting off fireworks near you; 3) Life gets easier after graduation.
What's the first thing that pops into your head when you think of your father? Golf
When you were little, what did you want to be when you grew up? A writer. Maybe I haven't quite outgrown that yet.
Thanks Maryann!
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Sense of Purpose
I read a great many blogs, which may or may not be how I found myself doing this.
Actually, I've had blogs in the past, but no one knew about them and thinking back, it was probably for the best. I've always been a journal-keeper, but with this new fangled technology called the internets, I don't have to write out my thoughts longhand. Now I can type it all here and keep all those pretty journals and cool notebooks I buy in pristine condition.
(Hi, my name is Nancy and I am addicted to office supplies. Notebooks, pens, cute paperclips, etc. I'll take a gift certificate to Office Max over Victoria's Secret anyday. Sadly for my husband.)
Anyway, I always admire the bloggers who write everyday. I am clearly not one of those, but I do aspire to it. Sometimes, when I can't sleep, I lay in bed and think up fantastic blog posts. And Facebook statuses. Between insomnia and the shower, I have my best thoughts when it's impossible to record them. You can ask Jenni how many conversations we've had where I start off by saying, "I thought of this in the shower this morning...". This also explains why I can be heard talking to myself in the shower.
Okay, that's a lie. I talk to myself all the time. Thank you all for not making a big deal out of it.
So having said all that, I want to try to be a better - read, more consistent - blogger. I've heard of National Blog Posting Month, so I did a search for it on the Internet. The official website is here: NaBloPoMo. I'm not going to do this. I generally have trouble with anything requiring me to write. But it's there should someone else need it. Though most of you who read this and have your own blogs, I think you do fantastically. This website has a tab called "Prompts" and it's a good place to look if you need a topic.
I know my friends Maryann and Jen write great blog posts that actually have topics and themes and life-lessons.
I tend to sit at the computer and start typing. And much like when I start talking, I will babble away until something resembling sense comes out. Sometime it takes a long, long time for that sense part to show up. For you, dear readers and Internet wanderers, I delete all the nonsensical crap.
So if you ever read this and say "OMG, doesn't she have a POINT"?", just remember: There was a whole lot of other pointless crap that I deleted. This is the stuff that I think made sense. I do this for you. Because I care.
You're welcome.
Actually, I've had blogs in the past, but no one knew about them and thinking back, it was probably for the best. I've always been a journal-keeper, but with this new fangled technology called the internets, I don't have to write out my thoughts longhand. Now I can type it all here and keep all those pretty journals and cool notebooks I buy in pristine condition.
(Hi, my name is Nancy and I am addicted to office supplies. Notebooks, pens, cute paperclips, etc. I'll take a gift certificate to Office Max over Victoria's Secret anyday. Sadly for my husband.)
Anyway, I always admire the bloggers who write everyday. I am clearly not one of those, but I do aspire to it. Sometimes, when I can't sleep, I lay in bed and think up fantastic blog posts. And Facebook statuses. Between insomnia and the shower, I have my best thoughts when it's impossible to record them. You can ask Jenni how many conversations we've had where I start off by saying, "I thought of this in the shower this morning...". This also explains why I can be heard talking to myself in the shower.
Okay, that's a lie. I talk to myself all the time. Thank you all for not making a big deal out of it.
So having said all that, I want to try to be a better - read, more consistent - blogger. I've heard of National Blog Posting Month, so I did a search for it on the Internet. The official website is here: NaBloPoMo. I'm not going to do this. I generally have trouble with anything requiring me to write. But it's there should someone else need it. Though most of you who read this and have your own blogs, I think you do fantastically. This website has a tab called "Prompts" and it's a good place to look if you need a topic.
I know my friends Maryann and Jen write great blog posts that actually have topics and themes and life-lessons.
I tend to sit at the computer and start typing. And much like when I start talking, I will babble away until something resembling sense comes out. Sometime it takes a long, long time for that sense part to show up. For you, dear readers and Internet wanderers, I delete all the nonsensical crap.
So if you ever read this and say "OMG, doesn't she have a POINT"?", just remember: There was a whole lot of other pointless crap that I deleted. This is the stuff that I think made sense. I do this for you. Because I care.
You're welcome.
Friday, October 8, 2010
You Better, You Bet
I went on a second interview today. I really don't know how to read this one. It may have gone well, but clearly these days, my view of these things is a bit off. Wait and see, I guess.
School conferences yesterday went very well. Sara is Sara wherever we go apparently. She's funny, smart and as always, this teacher loves her. He's aware that the math here is too easy for her - on a math test all 4th graders took, she was the only one in her class to score above 40%. She got an 88%. The 4th grade teachers recognize there appears to be a hole in the system somewhere when the only kid to pass this test came from out of state - so he's going to work on getting her more advanced things to work on. He only tests his students up to a 4th grade reading level and she aced that. Which is good, because her reading has been my only area of concern in the past.
Jacob's teacher mentioned that perhaps his choice in friends was an issue, but then she back-tracked to say that they are all good boys, who are very competitive in sports and academically. But they are talking when they shouldn't be. I know part of Jacob's problem is the fact that so much of what they are doing here is review for him that he's sort of breezing through the days. But I also know that a lot of it is that he's just so much happier at this school. He's allowed to be a kid here, when he really wasn't at the other school. He gets lunch recess and another recess on top of that. Each classroom has a coat room that connects with the class next door so there's no constant drama about sharing a locker and some idiot kid destroying your belongings. There's no dress code so there's not the feeling of following the rules while other kids are blatantly allowed to ignore them with no consequence. There's a lunchroom so he can eat and talk to his friends during lunch.
Is it different than what he had before? Absolutely.
Is it better?
. . .
. . .
I'm hesitant to say "better". It's better for him. He's happier and believe me when I say, when Jacob is happier, everyone else in this house is happier as well. (He takes after his mother that way.)
I'm not thrilled that so much of the work he's already done. But the high school graduation rate here is 94% and where we came from it's 69%. (Alpine graduation rate info found here: Utah Schools and the Kalamazoo graduation rate found here: Kalamazoo Schools.) So even though some may argue that it's not better because it's easier, it gets these kids through high school and on their way to college.
If you look on the Alpine School district site, you'll see also that the teacher:student ratio is 1:28. And actually, I believe Jacob's class has 31 kids and Sara's has 30. I believe back in Kalamazoo there were 25 or 26. So it's a little bigger here, which I'm not particularly wild about either. You can refer to an earlier post (found here: Track System) where I explain about the Track system and how that all works. So I don't really have any complaints about that.
While I like their teachers here, I certainly wouldn't say they are better than the teachers we had back in Kalamazoo. The teachers they had in Kalamazoo I loved - and still love. Those teachers are fantastic educators, fantastic people. I can't imagine a life where my kids hadn't had people like Mrs. Newton, Mrs. Pfau, Mrs. Cramer, Miss Crabtree and Mr. Caudill to teach, guide and love them. And because that school required more commitment from the parents, I got to know these teachers better than I will here. Because my kids are older here, I will have less and less regular contact with their teachers from here on out.
So, is it better?
Maybe the answer is not simply yes or no. Maybe the answer is yes, it's better now. But Paramount was better then. And maybe together, the future will be better too.
School conferences yesterday went very well. Sara is Sara wherever we go apparently. She's funny, smart and as always, this teacher loves her. He's aware that the math here is too easy for her - on a math test all 4th graders took, she was the only one in her class to score above 40%. She got an 88%. The 4th grade teachers recognize there appears to be a hole in the system somewhere when the only kid to pass this test came from out of state - so he's going to work on getting her more advanced things to work on. He only tests his students up to a 4th grade reading level and she aced that. Which is good, because her reading has been my only area of concern in the past.
Jacob's teacher mentioned that perhaps his choice in friends was an issue, but then she back-tracked to say that they are all good boys, who are very competitive in sports and academically. But they are talking when they shouldn't be. I know part of Jacob's problem is the fact that so much of what they are doing here is review for him that he's sort of breezing through the days. But I also know that a lot of it is that he's just so much happier at this school. He's allowed to be a kid here, when he really wasn't at the other school. He gets lunch recess and another recess on top of that. Each classroom has a coat room that connects with the class next door so there's no constant drama about sharing a locker and some idiot kid destroying your belongings. There's no dress code so there's not the feeling of following the rules while other kids are blatantly allowed to ignore them with no consequence. There's a lunchroom so he can eat and talk to his friends during lunch.
Is it different than what he had before? Absolutely.
Is it better?
. . .
. . .
I'm hesitant to say "better". It's better for him. He's happier and believe me when I say, when Jacob is happier, everyone else in this house is happier as well. (He takes after his mother that way.)
I'm not thrilled that so much of the work he's already done. But the high school graduation rate here is 94% and where we came from it's 69%. (Alpine graduation rate info found here: Utah Schools and the Kalamazoo graduation rate found here: Kalamazoo Schools.) So even though some may argue that it's not better because it's easier, it gets these kids through high school and on their way to college.
If you look on the Alpine School district site, you'll see also that the teacher:student ratio is 1:28. And actually, I believe Jacob's class has 31 kids and Sara's has 30. I believe back in Kalamazoo there were 25 or 26. So it's a little bigger here, which I'm not particularly wild about either. You can refer to an earlier post (found here: Track System) where I explain about the Track system and how that all works. So I don't really have any complaints about that.
While I like their teachers here, I certainly wouldn't say they are better than the teachers we had back in Kalamazoo. The teachers they had in Kalamazoo I loved - and still love. Those teachers are fantastic educators, fantastic people. I can't imagine a life where my kids hadn't had people like Mrs. Newton, Mrs. Pfau, Mrs. Cramer, Miss Crabtree and Mr. Caudill to teach, guide and love them. And because that school required more commitment from the parents, I got to know these teachers better than I will here. Because my kids are older here, I will have less and less regular contact with their teachers from here on out.
So, is it better?
Maybe the answer is not simply yes or no. Maybe the answer is yes, it's better now. But Paramount was better then. And maybe together, the future will be better too.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
God Bless the American Housewife
So now I am unemployed. I worked there 2 days and decided it just wasn't for me. It's hard to explain WHY it wasn't for me, but I've kind of said it like this: I'm a person who looks at something and can either see myself doing it or not see myself doing it. When we came to Utah the first time last November, I looked around after the first couple of days and said to Mitch "I can see us living here." And when I looked into my future earlier this week, I did not see myself working there. The hours were good, the people were mostly nice and the atmosphere was ridiculously casual. But I don't want to do mortgage loans. I just don't want to learn all the paperwork and whatever. So I left. No sense dragging it out.
I had an interview yesterday afternoon for someplace else and they called last night for a second interview tomorrow. We'll see how it goes. If that doesn't pan out, I really will start calling temp agencies. Really.
What's surprised me the most is that I kind of like being home. I like getting the laundry done and being able to run errands during the day without rushing around to get somewhere before they close. I like having dinner ready so we can eat at 6. I take Jacob to band at 4:15 a couple of days a week. It's fun being home. I can Facebook and blog and I talk to the dog and read.
I went to this coupon seminar a few weeks ago, so now I'm clipping coupons and checking the Savvy Shopper website to see where the best deals are. I got a whole bunch of stuff at Walgreens this morning - two Schick Hydro razor sets, 2 boxes of Oreos, 2 bags of Werther's candy - for $11 with my coupons and I got $8 in register rewards back. (Which are coupons for money off your next purchase.) So basically, I spent $3. Weird for me to think about this stuff, I know. We currently have like 20 cans of Chunky soup because they were on sale two weeks ago for 10 for $10 and then I had coupons so it was 50 cents a can. Apparently, it's the small stuff these days that thrills me.
I went to the DMV to get a driver's license today, but they turned me away because I didn't have my marriage license. They need to "connect the dots" between the name on my birth certificate and the name on my Michigan license. Ugh. So I came home and will go back on Monday. I thought I had everything too. Frustrating. Luckily it wasn't a wasted trip because the DMV is right next to the Boy Scout office and I had to exchange some pants for Jacob since he has a Court of Honor this weekend to get his 2nd class or whatever it is.
We have conferences tonight and this should be interesting. Sara's teacher already told her to tell us to be prepared to talk about giving her harder work to do since so much of the stuff her class is doing is review for her. We need to talk to Jacob's teacher about signing him up for the advanced placement English and History classes for junior high next year. He has to be tested and then they take 34 kids per junior high. I think he'll qualify, but since he hasn't taken any of the standardized testing they use here we don't have any scores to judge him against.
The hamster escaped her cage last night. When I went to check on Sara, the cage door was hanging open. Luckily, Sara sleeps with her bedroom door closed until we go to bed so I found Bella (the hamster) in the corner by her closet. Unluckily, that meant I had to pick up the hamster. Shudder. I finally put the ball in front of her and used the top of the ball to shove her inside. Then I tipped the ball upside down into the cage. Probably more traumatic that however she got from the cage on top of Sara's bookcase down to the floor, but I do not want to have those yucky little hamster feet touch me. It wigs me out.
Well, I'm off to the basement again to find my marriage license. I knew I should have kept my maiden name.
I had an interview yesterday afternoon for someplace else and they called last night for a second interview tomorrow. We'll see how it goes. If that doesn't pan out, I really will start calling temp agencies. Really.
What's surprised me the most is that I kind of like being home. I like getting the laundry done and being able to run errands during the day without rushing around to get somewhere before they close. I like having dinner ready so we can eat at 6. I take Jacob to band at 4:15 a couple of days a week. It's fun being home. I can Facebook and blog and I talk to the dog and read.
I went to this coupon seminar a few weeks ago, so now I'm clipping coupons and checking the Savvy Shopper website to see where the best deals are. I got a whole bunch of stuff at Walgreens this morning - two Schick Hydro razor sets, 2 boxes of Oreos, 2 bags of Werther's candy - for $11 with my coupons and I got $8 in register rewards back. (Which are coupons for money off your next purchase.) So basically, I spent $3. Weird for me to think about this stuff, I know. We currently have like 20 cans of Chunky soup because they were on sale two weeks ago for 10 for $10 and then I had coupons so it was 50 cents a can. Apparently, it's the small stuff these days that thrills me.
I went to the DMV to get a driver's license today, but they turned me away because I didn't have my marriage license. They need to "connect the dots" between the name on my birth certificate and the name on my Michigan license. Ugh. So I came home and will go back on Monday. I thought I had everything too. Frustrating. Luckily it wasn't a wasted trip because the DMV is right next to the Boy Scout office and I had to exchange some pants for Jacob since he has a Court of Honor this weekend to get his 2nd class or whatever it is.
We have conferences tonight and this should be interesting. Sara's teacher already told her to tell us to be prepared to talk about giving her harder work to do since so much of the stuff her class is doing is review for her. We need to talk to Jacob's teacher about signing him up for the advanced placement English and History classes for junior high next year. He has to be tested and then they take 34 kids per junior high. I think he'll qualify, but since he hasn't taken any of the standardized testing they use here we don't have any scores to judge him against.
The hamster escaped her cage last night. When I went to check on Sara, the cage door was hanging open. Luckily, Sara sleeps with her bedroom door closed until we go to bed so I found Bella (the hamster) in the corner by her closet. Unluckily, that meant I had to pick up the hamster. Shudder. I finally put the ball in front of her and used the top of the ball to shove her inside. Then I tipped the ball upside down into the cage. Probably more traumatic that however she got from the cage on top of Sara's bookcase down to the floor, but I do not want to have those yucky little hamster feet touch me. It wigs me out.
Well, I'm off to the basement again to find my marriage license. I knew I should have kept my maiden name.
Friday, October 1, 2010
Waiting for the Bell To Ring
So I am now employed. I got the job at the mortgage company and I'm overly excited, I think. But it's really perfect for our situation here. The hours are 9-3 and even with the 35 or so minute drive, I should get home just before the kids most days. I'll have to leave before they get on the bus, but since they get up at 6:30 AM to get on a 9 AM bus - a rant for another day, trust me - it shouldn't be an issue there. There are 2 days in October when they don't have school, so I guess that will be our first test of how they can deal being by themselves all day. I so hope this works out well. I'm excited, but I'm sure on Sunday night, I'll be wanting to call and quit.
I got another call today for an interview for a job I applied for last night. The girl said her boss would call when he got back in the office this afternoon, between 12 and 2 she thought. Well, it's 3:30 here and I haven't heard anything. I've been cleaning and cooking and waiting, but honestly, it's starting to bug me. This place called this morning before I heard from the mortgage company. Actually, while I was talking to them, the mortgage company was calling to offer me the job. So while I have no intention of taking this other job, I'm still irritated they haven't called. I'd like to shower, you know.
I made chicken and stuffing in the crock pot, and oh my gosh, it smells so good I'm not sure we can wait until 6 for dinner. I'm also making a banana pie thing, but since I broke the store-bought graham cracker crust, I made my own and am putting it in a 9x13 pan. I need some Cool Whip too, but since I haven't showered because I'm waiting for this phone call, I haven't been to the store. Grrr...
Sara is going to a birthday party tomorrow, for her friend that lives here in the neighborhood and is in her class. This is the same girl whose house she was at when she fell - not that that is relevant, but just for reference. I think she is excited, since it seems like quite a few girls from her class will be there, so that's good. Mitch has Guard this weekend, so it's just the kids and I all day.
Have I mentioned that he's been in the Guard here for 3 months and hasn't yet gotten paid? Oh yeah, that's been lovely. Finally someone at this base said let's get this fixed, but apparently, the problem is that Michigan hasn't released him, so Utah can't pay him until that happens. So no $$$ for us. The upside is that when it does get straightened out, we should get a good chunk of change. His paycheck from his regular job was messed up this week too, but they know that and are getting him a check on Monday. Lucky we still have some put away to live off of. And now I'm employed too, so that will be a load off.
I was going to get a driver's license today, since I've clearly been putting it off, and then of course, when I go online to find out the hours for the office I have to go to - you have to go to a specific office to get a new license - I find out they are closed on Fridays. So no dice there. They are open until 7 PM Monday through Thursday, so I'm going to try to go next week. I don't think I can put it off anymore. We're going to need new license plates too, but Mitch has to do that since both vehicles are in his name - holdover from back in our military Virginia days.
For the love of God, are these people ever going to call?!
I got another call today for an interview for a job I applied for last night. The girl said her boss would call when he got back in the office this afternoon, between 12 and 2 she thought. Well, it's 3:30 here and I haven't heard anything. I've been cleaning and cooking and waiting, but honestly, it's starting to bug me. This place called this morning before I heard from the mortgage company. Actually, while I was talking to them, the mortgage company was calling to offer me the job. So while I have no intention of taking this other job, I'm still irritated they haven't called. I'd like to shower, you know.
I made chicken and stuffing in the crock pot, and oh my gosh, it smells so good I'm not sure we can wait until 6 for dinner. I'm also making a banana pie thing, but since I broke the store-bought graham cracker crust, I made my own and am putting it in a 9x13 pan. I need some Cool Whip too, but since I haven't showered because I'm waiting for this phone call, I haven't been to the store. Grrr...
Sara is going to a birthday party tomorrow, for her friend that lives here in the neighborhood and is in her class. This is the same girl whose house she was at when she fell - not that that is relevant, but just for reference. I think she is excited, since it seems like quite a few girls from her class will be there, so that's good. Mitch has Guard this weekend, so it's just the kids and I all day.
Have I mentioned that he's been in the Guard here for 3 months and hasn't yet gotten paid? Oh yeah, that's been lovely. Finally someone at this base said let's get this fixed, but apparently, the problem is that Michigan hasn't released him, so Utah can't pay him until that happens. So no $$$ for us. The upside is that when it does get straightened out, we should get a good chunk of change. His paycheck from his regular job was messed up this week too, but they know that and are getting him a check on Monday. Lucky we still have some put away to live off of. And now I'm employed too, so that will be a load off.
I was going to get a driver's license today, since I've clearly been putting it off, and then of course, when I go online to find out the hours for the office I have to go to - you have to go to a specific office to get a new license - I find out they are closed on Fridays. So no dice there. They are open until 7 PM Monday through Thursday, so I'm going to try to go next week. I don't think I can put it off anymore. We're going to need new license plates too, but Mitch has to do that since both vehicles are in his name - holdover from back in our military Virginia days.
For the love of God, are these people ever going to call?!
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