Mom, are you ok?

Yeah, I have a fever, but I’m doing ok.

Do you want me to put my hand on your forehead?

That would be nice.

I love you mommy.

I love you too buddy.

I’ll take care of you until you’re better ok?

You’re the best buddy.

Thanks mom, I love you.

I love you too Bud.

Everyone in my family has been sick. Everyone in my office has been sick. I, strong as an ox, vitamin popping, hand-washing mama have not – until now. Of course, the week that I have to transition with my boss to take over his job, make a great first impression with the client, and just kick some corporate butt, I find myself with a fever climbing over a 100, stuffy nose, and that flushed, I think I’m floating feeling and yet I come to work.

This meant big fight with hubby because he would have called in sick and sees me as being somehow deficient because I put my work ahead of my …

Whoa, dizzy spell, hold on…….

Ok, can see again – health. I felt I had to come to work today not because they wouldn’t understand, but because it’s how I’m wired. I can’t lose a day of transition time; I know I’ll pay for it later. I also feel it’s important when you start a new job to show you’re reliable, easy to manage, and ready to go. I figure me at 75% is still better than no me at all. I think most mothers get this, besides having to save your leave for when the kiddies have fevers and you HAVE to stay home, unless you’re going to pass out once you stand, you come to work.

The good news is that almost no one uses our bathroom at this end of the hall, so I can go in there and take some breaks. This is a trick I learned while pregnant – you can sleep sitting on a toilet and there is NO shame in it.

Tylenol cold, Orange Tea, Motrin, and repeat.

Just finished interviewing with the VP for boss's (whose leaving) job. He and I clicked and he liked what I brought to the table. It wasn't my mad IT skills - they are good. It wasn't my ability to manage and lead teams successfully - I am really freakin' able. It was simply because I reconginzed that the key to the job was improving the relationship with the customer. Some condiser this ass kissing - I see it as recognition that if someone is paying my company for a service, than I need to be grateful to that person and make sure they are happy.

So class, the lesson for today is, that yes the customer still matters, and an in era where budgets are tight and IT is competing for funding, you need to make sure your client likes you and feels good. It's actually more important than the work product itself.

How do you learn such skills? Simply work retail, wait tables, work at a theme park, answer the help desk phone, or do something equally customer focued where for 8 hours a day you have to deal with people who feel they are owed something because they've given you money. After a year of this, you will learn how to make a customer happy, how to say no to someone and still make them feel good, how to paste a smile on your face and use your really nice voice while inside you're head you're thinking FUCK YOU.

I got the job because I know how to smile and think FUCK YOU!

Honey, you know I don't fuck during my period, besides, my boss just quit and I have a chance to get his job. I need some time to process the information and think about meeting with the VP tomorrow.

Yes, a raise usually makes me horny, but in the 10 years we've been together have we EVER done it on the rag? No! Besides, I need to think! I'm supposed to act surprised about this news and also sell myself on the spot.

Ok, last warning - leave me the fuck alone, I need to sleep, I have to be prepared for tomorrow!

When did my career become more important than fucking?!?!?!?!

A few months back I took a new job that put me 10 minutes away from home, reduced my workload and stress by 1000% and still kept me somewhat on my career path. But, what I gave up was 12 years worth of friendships and I miss them very much.

The last place I worked was not good for me in many ways. I fought traffic in a major metropolitan area for almost 3 hours a day - i love my car, but doing this for 12 years will make you insane. The company did not promote or pay worth shit, being in IT, female, and management befuddled many, and the demand for more and more with less and less people was very real. Add to that - hey I gotta go, my kids are sick, only to hear "are you coming back today?", and it makes it hard to explain why I ever worked there.

At points my work ethic and employee loyalty almost ended my marriage because Hubby thought, and rightly so, I was more loyal to the company than him and our kids. But how do you explain career and advancement to an outsider when everyone working there understood and was doing the same thing???? I had lots of nights feeling angry and frustrated rather than proud of what I'd accomplished. And still, I loved that place in some weird, mid-west obligated sort of way. When I finally left I felt liberated and was thrilled to be going, I knew I'd gotten a monkey off my back and was so happy to have found a new job that kept me on my career track and gave me back 3 hours/day plus my sanity by not having to commute. But what I didn’t expect when I left a place that I poured my heart and soul into and almost broke both, was that I would desperately miss my colleagues because really, they were my friends.

The thing about being a working Mom is that if you're a career mom and not one just punchin' the clock, you spend upwards of 50 to 60 hours a week with people who aren't your family. I added it up realized that I averaged 50 waking hours with co-workers and 52 with my family. Add to that 15 hours in the car, and if you're following along with the math, you'ver realized, I spent my life in 3 places, home, office, and car.

What this means is that many of life’s problems get solved at work and your co-workers become a support network (if you're lucky, and I was) that you can go to about career, family, extended family, sick kids, crazy Hubbies, etc. The best part was you could do it in the 10 minutes before a meeting started, or on a quick run for starbucks. I didn't need to schedule time to talk in the evening, make lunch dates, plan get togethers, it just happened. I knew on a bad morning with the kids, I could go into a coworkers office, shut the door and just blurt it all out, laugh a little, cry a little and then head back to my desk feeling renewed and relieved. Some had kids, some did not, but I basically grew up with them and they knew me, my hopes, frustrations, and stories that went along with them.

Now I find myself 5 months out thinking - oh, they are going die when they hear about my brother in-law knocking this stupid bitch up. Then I realize, nope, not sharing it with the new folks, and it's too complicated to write in an email to the old gang. My new colleagues are very nice folks, but they don't know me and my history, and frankly, I don't want to get that involved in a company and it's people again. Instead, I share small stories, but not the running dialogue I kept with the last crowd.

So I'm busier than before trying to maintain some of these friendships. It's harder because we all live many miles from each other and commuted into that central spot. Now I’m emailing more, calling more, and trying to schedule more, still it sucks and I miss them. The only thing that helps at all, is they miss me too - still it's just not the same.

Intead of giving Hubby a Valentine's reward for the nice cards and meal already on the table when I got home (I still hate this holiday but never say no to someone else cooking), he got a midly upset, ok somewhat crazed, wife because I got my period yesterday. Why upset? Well for 8 months I've been off the pill hoping to knock up/out number 3 and instead of getting morning sickness I have my period migrane and when I added up the months off the pill, I was overcome with a deep sense of hopelessness and fear that I will never be pregnant again.

I hate my body for betraying me.

When we started talking about having kids I was in my twenties and after almost 2 years of trying was told that I may never have children. Then, suddenly Little B shows up without any drugs, needles or what was then known as Plan B, and C. When we thought about #2, I was off the pill for 3 months before Missy started to grow. So you would think that my body was on track to knock out #3, but it looks like that's not the case. When we first started trying for #3, I was at my old very stressful, overworked job. I left that place and am now 4 months into the new one, definately not stressed, at times bored, and still no baby.

The problem is that I'm getting up there in years, and before to long I'm going to have to give up on conception all together - I will not be a 50 year old mother of a newborn! I also don't think Plan B and C sound nearly as appealing, we have 2 afterall. I'm emotionally totally ok with adopting, but the fact of the matter is that I love being pregnant. I love the feel of the baby inside me, I love thinking about what's growing and can picture litte strands of DNA coming together from Hubby and me to make this beautiful thing. I love it when the roll over and make my insides shudder, I love it when they hiccup and my stomache does this wierd shaking thing. Simply, I want one more shot at having something inside me that is so totally mine for ten amazing months.

It doesn't help that lots of stupid fucking people get pregnant and conceive at the drop of a hat. All women struggling to have a child hate these women, I mean a visceral hate where you question the unvierse for being so evil as to gift these future horrible mothers with something so wonderful that you know you deserve and they don't. When I'm pregnant this hate will subside, but right now, almost anyone who announces a pregnancy and didn't struggle, cry, and panic will get my fake smile with an I hate your fucking guts reaction lurking under the surface.

This is happening in my family right now. My Hubby's brother may have knocked up a girl (not sure if it's his - we'll know in 3 moths). She's a total waste of a human being and she's pregnant - claims she didn't even know until the 7th month! What'd you think that basketball in your stomache was a fucking tumor you dumb ass bitch. Of course she's 23, like's to go to rave's, has already been arrested for DUI once, and is basically not fit to manage the life in her womb - but SHE'S pregnant. Me, who gives up all things that matter, who follows every dietrary rule: f0lic acid - check, no mercury contaminated fish - check, check - elimination of caffiene, alcohol, nutra sweet, and all vices I love - check, check, check. Not pregnant.

I'm not totally desperate, just panicy at period time, but a couple more months of this and I'll be on the verge of hysterical crying each time I see anything baby related. Even that stupid talking Quizno's baby could put me over the edge. At this point I'm trying to figure out what worked with the first two. The last trick in the bag is to bombard my eggs with sperm. Both kids were concieved while on vacation where we fucked like rabbits, drank like fish, and partied well into the night - don't worry kids stay with Grandparents. I think it's time to schedule operation sperm assault, and if that doesn't work, well maybe 2's all we're supposed to have and the big 4 bedroom house we're about to buy will always have a guest room.

The question of the day "so what are you guys doing for Valentines?"
I hate this question. I'm not into Valentine's day, and I just don't get the whole candy, cards, gifts thing. For what - a day of love? Please! for the birth of my children I got diamonds! Pre-determined day of love - save your money. I wish I could tell you that it's because I think every day should be Valentines day filled with love and hugs or some equally sentimental bullshit, or even better, that I'm cheap and don't want to waste money on a Hallmark-ified day, but it's just I never have liked this day. There are 3 like this for me: Valentine's, Fourth of July and New Years. I just don't get them, they always seem anticlimatctic, and I don't understand when others get really excited. Today is all about a card and a box of chocolates - what am I Forest fucking Gump?

I supose there are years of therapy needed to understand why I am this way - but the real winner in all of this is Hubby. He knows he's off the hook for anything major, he knows I have no intention of showing up with a card or going out for a romantic diner. He knows that if he puts in any amount of effort it shows up as a win in his column. And he knows out of obligation I'll usually put out tonight.

The kids on the otherhand are too young to understand just how fucked up their mother is, so I go through the motions for them. Yes even preschool celebrates this stupid holiday, but to make sure no one's feelings are hurt, you have to address all of the invitations to "Friend" that way a 5 year old doesn't feel rejected because Little B thinks he smells and doesn't want to give him a valentines. I guess dissapointment and hearbreak doesn't need to be taught yet, but I'm going to be really upset if we don't start writing names on these things by 3rd grade! My bet is that Little B will always want to have lots to hand out - this year he made sure they're were some for the "kids who come after school" when asked which kids I got a wicked grin and knew they were for WHORES - I mean girls in Kindergarden. Missy on the otherhand found the bag for her class and ripped 3 suckers off the invitations so now we may be short - I think she takes after me!

So tonight's plans, spagetti with meatballs, finish tiling a bathroom floor, and quick romp with hubby - how romantic.

I would love to write about my job. Working is something I'm passionate about, I love doing it, and it takes up a big part of my day. I recently started a new job and while I stayed in technology, I moved to a different type of industry. The change has been mind-boggling and I have a wealth of stories, comments and shocking information that I am dying to write about. But I'm nothing if not practical, and always assume the worst will happen - I can not be Dooced.

A quick shout out to Buffalo Girl - she sent me the link to Dooce just as I was thinking about blooging - read through that and the article about the Senate staffer who was canned, and realized that the oral tradition of story telling will live on because I'm a person who can heed a warning.

Know there is a running blog in my head about the characters I work with, the industry I work for, and the insanity that is this job. Sadly, you'll never be able to read about it.

Hi I'd like 2 chicken tender happy meals --- What?

TWO chicken tender happy meals --- What?

TTTWWWOOOO CHHHIKKKEEEENNN TENDER Happy meals

anything else?

Yes - one plain cheeseburger --- what?

ONE plain cheesburger --- what?

ONE PLAIN CHEESEBURGER

OK $4.67

10 minutes later, pull up

That will be $7.32 --- what?

$7.32

she said $4.67

Do you think we would lie mam? --- can I please see a reciept? (am handed a peice of paper with just $7.32 on it)

Ok, can I see a receipt that actually shows what I bought?

Mam, I'm the manager, do you think I would lie?

Yeah will I'm Hillary Clinton, do you believe that - please give me a receipt.

Get the receipt - it does add up to $7.32

As the food is handed over - "Sir, you need to work on training her, she's giving out the wrong amounts"

Mam - it's fine, you made the mistake.

WWWAAAAAAA?

Thankfully - still needed drinks, final chance to smart off -

Sir, IF you are the manager then you should have enough training to know that when YOUR employee screws up, you should apologize to me, and tell me that you're working to improve her skills, please be patient with us.

Mam, I am not going to apologize to you!

Really - well let me tell you something, now I know you're not a manager - you're just a fucking idiot

and with that, I drove off with my food.

I hate parenting books, parenting coaches, parenting magazines, and anyone else whose got some input on how to be a parent. "the key is consistency", "here's what a 3 year old should be doing", "solving night time problems with love". I'm gonna write a book called - fuck the experts, do what you need to do - a working Mom's guide to parenting. See, most of this stuff probably works if you're a person whose child is born without any sort of independence or free will and whose sole purpose is to make their parents happy. I went to school with a kid like this - boring but his folks must have loved the fact that he NEVER disobeyed. "Son, go jump of the bridge" "Ok Dad, your word is law".

I find myself with 2 kids who already have a sense of themselves and get that I'm a person who shits the same as they do (they spend enough time in the bathroom with me to know all of my bodily functions). So when they go of course, my choices are along the lines of: how much do I want to battle them, fear that if I give in now, she'll definitely be a stripper by 18, or do I want to burn supper or make sure they stay in time-out? This past week, the problem was that they stopped sleeping through the night, I did try the "right way" and then realized after 4 sleepless nights, I should have gone with my instinct, told "What to expect" to fuck off and just get some sleep.

You see, since Sunday I’ve found myself up until almost 1 with Little B crying because he’s afraid of his room, (think - Mommy, there's a bear in my room and my reply being, I'm a god damn bear and I'm going to growl if you DON"T GO TO SLEEP NOW) and then back up again at 3 fucking AM because Missy wakes up like it’s 8 and she’s ready to play (MISSY - ITS 3 AM GO TO SLEEP OR ELSE). Where’s Hubby during all this? SLEEPING. Didn't even budge when I bring Missy into the bed and she proceeds to kick him in the head.

Last Night I had my epiphany, I don’t have to follow these stupid books, because at this point, they can sleep in my room until their 18, as long as I can get some regular sleep, everyone wins. I warned Hubby that I was done with the fighting and that instead, I was going for sleep over discipline. He had a skeptical look – probably realized if this plays out sex will almost never happen, but I’m a desperate for sleep not dick. Operation take back the sleep went like this:

Kept the kids of up an hour past normal bed time and made sure they did lots of running and playing – no laying down cause you’re tired – we’re all fucking tired in this house. Then, assigned Hubby to Missy with explicit directions: read her one story and give her some cold PM medicine, she’s been coughing a lot – WHAT? She has! I took Little B and read 2 books and then intentionally laid down with him and fell asleep. Fast-forward 2 hours later – I wake up, the house is quite, and I can spend a few minutes in the bathroom actually brushing my teeth and washing my face – whoopee. Back to my room where I strategically place the remote control and load up the dvd player. Sure enough, at 3am in comes Missy, put in her bed with Hubby and I, hit play on her favorite movie and back to sleep. 7am alarm goes off, Mom is rested, everyone has survived the night and I no longer feel like a serial killer.

When you're a new mom you go through a period where you know your kids are going to be up in the middle of the night - pregnancy gets you ready for it by waking you up every 1/2 hour to pee. But, once they've grown out of it, when they do wake you up it's pure hell and in my case, I see a side of myself that's scarry. Why? I can be prone to physical violence and have to fight urges to severly spank my children which in normal waking hours would feel horrific, and worse, I actually slip into an alternate insane universe with manical laughing and a feeling of being diasociated from my body and I'm worried someday I won't be able to come out of it.

Both kids got up in the middle of last night which in a single "Mom" by the bedside ruined my sleep, made me oversleep my alarm, made me totally worthless at work, and made me stay late because I came in late. A Fuck yeah kind of Monday.

Punishment tonight, none of their TV, no special play time, and lots of time with me handling tears and rants because I must be the worst mom ever - yeah well stay in fucking bed and I'm a great mom!

Somehow a great weekend can all be ruined when the hours of 2am to 5am are filled with kids fighting, me giving in to letting them sleep in our bed only to have my hair pulled and my face slapped, then screaming by everyone, then finally they listening to them sleep while I consider getting up and going to work at 5am, getting up and leaving the house for at least a week, threating my husband with castration if he sleeps through another night like that one - WAKE THE FUCK UP BEFORE I KILL EVERYONE IN THIS HOUSE.

When they were babies I could sit in the rocking chair with the TV on and fall back asleep even if they didn't - I always figured even if I did drop them it wan't that far to the floor.

Have you ever given your child a nightime cold medicine that brings on drowsiness when they weren't sick just to guarantee a full nights sleep - I haven't yet but feeling less and less guilty about it as an option.

I am a wife, mom, career women, daughter, sister, sometimes good friend, sometimes bad friend, and really need 2 bodies to live my life. Every day is a delicate balance to get it all done and what I've come to realize is that I can't be good at it all - somebody's getting shortchanged.