I love going to get my hair cut. It's 3 hours of gossiping about hubbies and children, it's quiet music with tea and water with lemon. It's scalp massages and deep conditioning. When I'm old I will be one of those white haired ladies that goes every week to get her hair washed and set. Not because I want the short tight perm, but because there is nothing better than having your hair washed, blowdryed and styled.

I go tomorrow. I used to feel guilty about being at work all week and then gone for 3 more hours on the weekend. At the new house the kids all have neighborhood friends and I am no longer the sole source of entertainment. They probably won't even know I'm gone. Still I miss them a little. But they'll have me for a long weekend the following week. Besides I've got more roots than an oak tree right now and I need some pampering after the week at work.

Next week, for sure, I promise, the story of when I wet my pants at work.

I just finished reading the Circus in Winter.  A great set of stories that all weave together about a town that really does exist in the Midwest. As the book comes to a close it talks about there being two kinds of people in this world.  Circus people and hometown people.  Circus people are the folks that don't stay anywhere too long, can pack up the tents, load up the train and head to the next town without looking back.  They like the life on the road and enjoy the change in scenery.  Hometown people are the ones that lay roots, whether it's Queens or a town in Nebraska, they stay there their whole lives.  When I was reading this, I had one of those *ding* moments that I sometimes get with a book because there was such truth in that for me.  It's a mini-revelation and will definitely affect how I understand my own self - oh, this is because I'm a circus person! I've spent the whole morning thinking about my family; some are townies, some are carnies, I usually admire the carnies and don't understand the townies, and now I know why. Neither is bad, I just related more to one.  I'm a Carney at heart, it's where my wanderlust comes from, it's why I read books.  I've never lived anywhere for more than 4 years, and I get ansy if I'm in one place for too long.  I don't think of myself as having a "hometown" and since having children have become very aware of my desire for them to grow up in once place.  It dawned on me this morning that with this new house I've just bought, I'm trying to change my ways and turn myself into a homebody.  Or maybe, I'm trying to keep myself in check so my kids don't live the life of a Carney.

 I think the life of a circus freak, (feel free to insert amy is a circus freak joke here)  while romantic and amazing and certainly never boring is also harder.  I don't have friends that date back to my youth, I am shy in new situations but act bold because I'm used to being that new kid in school who gets presented in front of the class.  I wish I had more friends who knew me back when I was just me before all the other labels showed up.  I wouldn't change a thing about my life, it's too much of who I am, but I consciously decided that I didn't want my kids to grow up travelling from town to town, losing friendships, I wanted them to be townies, so they know where home base is - but even after living there for 2 months, I already think about where I might like to move once they are off to college.  I also realize that if the circus is in their blood, I they may turn out just like me and need to take off.  I can't wait to live vicariously through them (if they'll let me).

I'm not sure where I'm going with this except to say that this morning I had an "aha moment" and needed to put words to it.  I'm sure I'll come back to this post in a few months and think about it some more. From here on out, I will have a new dimension to think about when judging my decisions and actions - I'll understand better that it's because I'm circus people. I hope.

Our family has a rule that you can wallow in self-pity, exaggerate your problems, role around in the drama of an issue for  24 hours - when you wake up after you day of waa-waa, you must quit, buck up and get back to the buisness at hand.  So today I woke up a new woman.  All my jelly squishing, pitty seeking, dramatic rants have passed and I'm back to my usual old bitchy self.   I guess I should be glad it's only 24 hours, and frankly for this one I could have used another 10 or so to really feel like I'd let the wounds fester, but really, it's just work and not where I want all my joy and accomplishments to come from.  Do I have ambition - yep. Was I worried how this would affect my career and success in my current job - hell yeah!  But, I think I got it worked out and my 24 hours was up so the angst is gone and today I'm not pretending to be ok when i really want to yell at people.

Besides my families rule, three things really helped last night.  First, my kids were great.  I need to ask hubby if he bribed them or something, or maybe they just knew I needed to feel special beause they were awesome.  No sooner had I pulled into the house, when they rush into garage thrilled that I was home.  I could feel the drag of my face from the sour look I'd be holding onto all day suddenly lift.  How can I frown at such joy.  And the house, well hubby made sure all the things that usually annoy me when i walk in the door (day full of dishes) weren't there.  He handed me a glass of wine, and gave me a big hug.  I was just so relieved that my stress hadn't boiled over into the home this time and I was actually able to enjoy the evening without blowing up - if you can't take it out on the people who deserve - then take it out on the people you can - has usually been one of my nastier habits.

The second thing that really helped the night was a lovely bath and backrub from hubby.  I am a water girl through and through and there is nothing quite like soaking in a big ol tub with a book and glass of wine to cure what ills you.  If you haven't taken a bath in a while - do so, make sure the kids are in bed, the lights are only bright enough to see the words of a book, and just soak.  Of course after, we were both feeling rather amorous, naked bodies do that to a girl, and I went to sleep with a "glow" about me.  This usually translates into good things for me at work the next day because when I'm getting over a work issue, I like to sit and think 'Ha! My family likes me, and my hubby and can still knock the boots - your family thinks your a bitch and your hubby hates your saggy boobs!'  I know totally immature, but there is nothing like a little caddiness to get me right back into the swing of life.

Ok the third thing that happened lats night that made me realize I could so get past this was me getting an email from a friend at my former employers.  That place really sucked and it took me a long time to bail from it.  Hearing from him made me realize that the last few days were EVERY day at my old job and that I can't expect the workplace to always be great and everyone be appreciative of me all the time (mind you they should because I do damn good work).  If I manage to work here and only have 2 stressful days a year, well really, is that such a big deal?  I know some of you are thinking - selfish bitch, it's every day for me!  I know, I know, I just lost perspective.

So the 24 hour rule is in effect, the worst is over and I've come out of my funk.  Now I'm back to being worked up and stressed over the usual things in my life.  School starts in 4 weeks, I have yet to buy a supply!  Heck I don't even know what time he needs to be there! I am going to a wedding in 7 days and don't have a dress yet!  I have a stack of bills in my office and I don't know what's due when!  I have a house to unpack!  I have 2 hair appointments I need to schedule!  I have Dr's I need to see!  Ah, it's so nice to be back to my every-day drama! 

*sigh*

Turns out my body is not able to cope with my new calm exterior.  I used to put my emotions all out in public; you always knew my reaction to something because I expressed it openly - verbally and nonverbally.  The problem with that is my eye rolling got me into trouble.  My dramatic sighs were obviously a sign of frustration, and while I was proud of the fact that you always knew were you stood with me, it made managing and advancing harder.

So I trained myself to keep in.  Now when I am in a frustrating coversation I consciously think about my tone of voice, my word choice and most importantly my non-verbals.  Yesterday I could have fucking won and academy award for my performance with the client.  I was careful to come off as remorseful, my body language reflected one of a defeated person who has learned her lesson.  While I was talking, I was going through the mental check list in my head - don't look confident, keep your body posture from giving away your annoyance at this problem. Keep the eyes down to demonstrate respect.  That's right - Julia fucking Roberts.

Last night i was finishing Eleven on Top and I read this passage (paraphrasing).  You're like a jelly donunt - if the jelly doesn't come out the right spot, then when you sqeeze it, it's going to squish out somehwere else.  That's me.  I kept my jelly from coming out of the right spot and now my jelly is squishing out in the form of a headache.  In otherwords, my calm exterior means my insides are taking a beating.  Today I am at work with a pulsing headache, it started last night and I popped an imitrex, and here we are 12 hours later,  the double vision and neasua are gone, but there is a knife slicing into my temple and and causing my eyeballs to throb. 

I will have to work hard to make sure my jelly doesn't squish out at work.

I will have to work even harder to be kind to my family today.

I will go home and ask everyone who loves me for hugs.

I will will awake tomorrow knowing I am loved and that my job is a means to provide for my family and give my kids a great life.

I will make peace with this issue and my jelly will get back in all the right spots.

I was so excited to talk about pee today - instead I will be talking about shit - more specifically, bullshit.

Normally I don't write much about work but seeing as it has consumed the last 5 days of my life (yes weekends count) and is getting a wee bit annoying, I must vent somewhere so here goes the rambling venting cursing story.   I am a contractor, and more specifically I manage a team of contractors and several contracts.  In addition to all the invoicing, timesheets, hr, and management functions that come with supervising a team, I also have duties assigned by the client and work with a client rep - we'll call her Beth.

In my case, the client - well she's a little nutty.  She is known as the dragon lady and for the people who work for this client, and her - well she terrorizes them.  It's all about loyalty for her - you know, you're either with me or against me.  But it's not positive loyalty, it's cut you off at the knees and smite you if you try to advance and she didn't have a hand in it. It's if you question her, or have any feedback that she doesn't agree with, and she's on you and has a very long memory.  One person on her team is persona nongratta, she is female, smart, capable, frankly normal - and for the sake of this email we'll call her Sue (sue is not her name but it's easeir than following along with just prepositions). Anway, the dragon lady hates Sue - and Sue is the primary person I need to work with for some of my contracts. 

Ok so if you're following along.  Dragon lady (aka DL)  is the top of the food chain, my primary customer interface Beth, works for DL, and Sue work for DL.  I have teams that work for Beth and Sue, I have to interface with both. 

DL was looking for me 2 weeks ago and was told that I was meeting with Sue.  No one told her why, just that I was meeting with her.  Being a very clever DL she asked one of her loyalists to begin reporting back on me - how often was I meeting with Sue.  Well because Sue and I were transitioning a project I met with Sue every other day for 30min-1hour.  DL took this to mean that I was no longer loyal to her and decided to take it up with my company.  Last wek she toook it up with Beth - I was spending too much time with Sue and must not be doing my job (making sure DL looks great) and moreover I was probably working with Sue to undermine DL and take her down.  Now Beth is shocked by this and tells me peices of the conversation.  I go into damage control and begin gathering facts.  I know you're thinking, is someone really that crazy- yes, she is.  And this is really how you spend your day - yes, sadly, it is.

Today I met with my mgmt. chain to go over all that I knew, this was like a nancy drew meets clue meeting - turns out DL had also talked to my management and between us, i learned just how much DL hated me at the moment for betraying her and also some of DL's sources of info.  They were very cool about it - know that I swim with sharks and were surprised I managed to go a whole year before getting tagged with a bullseye. You would have been very proud of me, I took the information in like I hear shit like this all the time, and I acted very professional and mature. No what the fucks, or that is such total bullshit was uttered once from my lips.  Instead we shared openly what we knew and came up with a strategy on how to handle it and left the meeting knowing my bosses were amazed at my professional decorum. So win for me.  The strategy was to go into the DL's office and throw myself at her mercy in that I'm so stupid, you're so great, please let me back into your favor sort of way.  You know in countries where the people have to show they're a good servant by crawling on their knees with hands out in front and foreheads on the ground while in the presence of the royalty.  That was me.

I went into DL's office and thanked her for providing such timely feedback to my management.  I expressed shock and deep remorse  that she thought i was not loyal to her.  I committed myself and next born to her serivce and would do anything, anything to gain her favor and trust back.  I stopped myself from gagging and then dove in for the kill - thanked her for endorsing me taking on these increased resp. and her vote of confidence in me, I knew she was the key to me having this job, and I was never going to fuck that up!  Ok it is true that DL is the key to my success here, she does need to be happy and I do need to kiss her ass when things are wrong  But still, the DL - she is nuts.

Good news is, it worked.  Bad news is, it turn out that a lot of this is because of someone who works for me!!!!!

DL's admin is one of my staff members, and in an effort to gain favor and hopefully a job with the client site she has been sharing info about the team - exaggerated for full effect - in order to gain favor with DL.  Now, kissing a clients ass, well that is just part of the job.  But this lady who is fucking with my success because she wants to gain favor with DL that's something entirely different. She took it upon herself to create a little drama, if I mentioned that I was meeting with Sue about contracts, she would tell DL I was spending hours with Sue. Now this women craves attention, I honestly don't think it was malicious toward me, I think it was her goal to gain favor with DL - it's fun if you are DL's favorite.  But I am beyond pissed -  If DL wouldn't freak out, I would have fired her today.  However, I can't do that so I have to sit and wait and lay my trap.  Yes, I am a good and fair boss, and maybe I'm acting a little DL'ish myself by looking to cut this women off at the knees, but, there is no reason that she should be speaking poorly about anyone in our company.  First, she works for my company, not the client, secondly, in addition to me, she also said stuff about others on the team, and you should NEVER speak ill of anyone to the client.  EVER. It's unacceptable and will not be tolerated.  Don't worry, i'll do the right management thing, I'm creating core client site objectives that everyone must adhere to, that way there will be no issue about this in the future - can't believe they don't already have them.  It includes confidentiality, representing the team and company to the client in the best possible light at all times, etc.  Still I'm beyond pissed and would love to take her to the company office and fire her on the spot.  Damn that would feel good - yes I understand DL because she lurks within me but I am not a sociopath and frankly, I think DL is.

So that's the story that's been brewing up and finally came to ahead today.  You know what's sad.  there is real work to be done, we have real problems to solve, and I was actually working on a few of them before I got woefully distracted with this shit. 

I also am really proud of myself, either I'm getting old or I've worked with enough crazy women that nothing phases me.  I wasn't at all upset about DL thinking I was disloyal - didn't take her attack personally, never feared for my job because once I figured out the source of it and also who was doing it, I knew how DL worked and could play the game. The employee fucking me like that, we'll I feel sorry for her because I probably won't be the one to fire her.  You see when you suck up to a DL and become the favorite, you rise, rise,rise.  But DL's they are a fickle bunch, and before too long DL's going to kick that lady to the curb, and higher the rise, the longer and harder the fall. I'll have to be the one to deliver the news, but it will be because of DL. 

All of you looking to advance yourself, don't sell you soul and colleagues to get ahead, let your merits and work be what gets you ahead.  And if you do decide to suck up to a DL and advance your cause that way.  Watch out. Me, or someone like me will eventually Kick.Your. Ass.

Thanks for letting me vent, you're saving me from acting out in the office.  I was worried I was going to look like I had turrets.  Sitting quietly at my desk then FUCK, SHIT DAMN just erupting from my mouth without me being able to control it.

No I'm not manic depressive but I'm beginning to realize that my life is manic.  I have periods of extreme activity that builds and builds until I feel like I'm spinning totally out of control and then I reign it back in and it settles down to almost nothing.  Once it gets too calm, I begin to take on more and more and more and more and more and more.... well you get the point until it gets manic again. This can not be a good way to live.

Right now I'm at the height of my manic phase.  Work suddenly is kicking my ass, all the things I've been taking on to keep busy are now actually starting to move forward at the same time and I'm having trouble keeping up.  Then there's family and several things that require attention, thought, time and that is piling up, and then there's hubby, kids, bills and every day living which go on with our without me so I better keep up, and then the cherry on top is the new house, and it's never ending boxes that self-fucking-produce when I'm not looking and we've been there a month and my closet still isn't freaking organized and when I get dressed every day I'm reminded of this and annoyed and

BREATHE........

Well like I said it's the manic time.  I've spent the first part of this morning just organizing myself so I could tackle things in order of priority.  I've put out a couple of fires and fed the dogs to keep them at bay on a few other projects  but the waves of, oh my gosh I'm in over my head, continued to sweep over me so I took a break to vent here.  I don't necessarily feel better yet, but it helps to put the words out there.  Without sounding harsh, I don't need your sympathy, empathy, or any other thy, but I would accept a personal shopper, office admin, breakfast maker or maid.  Really, just knowing you can relate and maybe laugh with me at the silliness of all this is really what will set me straight - or the personal shopper.

OK this post today was going to be about incontinence and how ever since I've had kids I wet myself.  But I'll save that joy for you tomorrow.  However, I did add to the grocery list (which by the way is so old it's out of date) to buy some pee-pee pads.  I'm 35 fucking years old and I'm already buying diapers - FOR. MYSELF.

BREATHE...........

Today is a sympathy post going out to Jane Marie Sullivan Roberts, wife of John Roberts (nominee to the supreme court). No, this is not a politically biased post about her husband's positions and what good or harm he might bring to the court. This is about the press conference. Have you seen the clip? Here's a picture from yahoo news. But it really doesn't do it justice.



If you have an active child you can totally appreciate this moment, what she was feeling pissed, mortified, angry, and yes paniced - what was he going to do next? In the clip you see her trying to keep her upper body perfectly still while slowly reaching out to grab Little John only to have him scoot away. He danced around behind her, he danced around in front of her, and when I saw it I kept thinking - god I'm impressed the President acted like nothing was wrong.

I have a friend who has calm children and she was doing the "I cant' believe she let her son act like that" routine. Are you kidding? She was standing on the precipe ready to fall into hell. If she reached out and grabbed him at the wrong time he would have bellowed and then REALLY made a scene. Or even better he could have done that fall to the ground while you have them by the arm so it looks like you're totally abusing them if you didn't know any better. That would have definately made some news somewhere.

You know she's thinking "Daddy is getting nominated to be the next Supreme Fucking Court Justice and you are doing this to me NOW? COME HERE YOU LITTLE FUCKER". I mean look at her expression in this picture. Instead of the joy and pride in her hubbys accomplishments, she's thinking - next time they tell me I need to trot these kids out for a photo opp, I'm telling the PR people to suck it and I'm leavin' them with the baby sitter!

So Mom's you've been there - had that moment in public where you kids made you want to scream, you wanted to tie them up and throw them in the car, and you were just dying inside because this was NEVER how you invisioned motherhood. Now you know, it could be worse, you hubby could be standing beside the President while being nominated as a supreme court justice.

The only thing that would have made this better (sorry Jane Marie) is if Little John would have gone up to the President during the announcement - tapped him on the leg - "'scuse me?" "Oh heh heh, look it's John's son, what is it boy?" "Um, my Daddy says you're an idiot - what does idiot mean?". If he had done that I would have personally given Little John a shopping spree in Toys R Us. (sorry, a little bit of politics never hurt anyone).

I interrupt this terribly self centered blog to bring you an important parental warning.  I have recently discovered that the creators of Dora the Explorer have been sending secret homosexual messages directed at our young boys.  Case in point:

Last night while having the nanny, I mean TV, on we decided to fire up TIVO and play an episode of Dora the Explorer.  Previous to this incident I have enjoyed this show immensly, It teaches cause and effect, spanish, numbers, and seemed to have all sorts of educational value.  But last night I was horrified to find that Boots is gay and has been sending subliminal messages to my children.  I should have caught it sooner - the monkey symbology and all.  Oh Amy, you can't be serious - oh but I am.

Last nights episode was titled Bouncy Ball.  The premise was quite simple, Boots had lost his ball and they needed to go it. Well, no sooner had it started, than Boots broke into a song all about this ball - I was horrified.  I actually replayed it 2x to make sure I heard it right.  I called my hubby in to hear the song and he couldn't stop laughing which is how he acts when he sees or hears something really gay.  The lyrics are (to a very peppy kinda gay toon I might add):

I love my ball
My bouncy ball
I love my ball, ball, ball, ball ball.

My ball is bouncy
My ball is blue
I hold my ball
And you can hold it too.

Ok folks, if that isn't about some homo love I don't know what is.  Add to that, the map told them they needed to go through the icky sticky mud - clearly another sexual reference. And, the climax, I mean ending, is they get to the volcano and to get the ball back, the volcano errupts.  Tell me that is not some secret code?!?!?!

I urge all of you to call those people who have foundations with words like values and family in them.  We need to get on this right away, start an email campaign, call Jerry Fawell.  Make sure that you tell them I found it first and I'm expecting 10% of the fundraising cut.  OH gosh, say it isn't so! Up next, Sesame Street with Burt and Ernie and then Teletubbies, quick kids turn away until mom can find some shows with guns and violence!


*Ok so I'm kinda of kidding, but I will tell you this - that Boots he is a gay, (not that there's anything wrong with that)  I mean really, try singing it and not adding the s onto ball?  Today I have been be-bopping around the office - I love my balls, my bouncy balls.  I need some adult TV in my life - well maybe not adult - it has bouncy balls too.  Ok, pg-13 here I come.

I love my balls balls balls balls balls.....

What is wrong with this as a review assessment? You've met my
expectations for the position, and in certain areas exceeded it, but
overall you met it. Nice job? You're getting a 4% raise and I've put
you in for a quarterly bonus. Apparently something is wrong because
you're crying in my office.

The company I work for has 5 levels of performance assessment:
Unsatifactory, Below Expectations, Meets Excpectations, Exceeds
Expectations, Outstanding. This is not the same as a grade system of
A,B,C,D,F where meets equals a C. You didn't do C work, you did meets
work - it's not the same.

This whole thing (today of all days) really pisses me off. I think
managers have a hard time fairly assessing their employees
performance. Exceeds should be Wow, and Outstanding should be holy
fuck! Meets means you've been assigned work, you've done it well, on
time and with quality, and every now and then you even wowed me. What
I'm finding in my current position, is that criteria I just laid out
for you would earn them an exceeds expectations - like wow, it's
amazing you actually did the work you were asked to do.

I think I'm fair. I know I'm consistent with my team and how I assess
their performance. If you do not meet, I tell you way before the
review and you have a chance to improve. If you do get better, you
will still get a below expectations at your review, but I will
encourage you and next year if you continue to do a good job you'll
get meets. If you don't improve I'll fire your ass within months. I
will always compensate you for the work that youv'e done, I always do
reviews on time because I know it's money, and I truly pay attention
to your responsibilities, work products and results. To exceed my
expectations means just that, it doesn't mean you did the work as
assigned, or better than the mediocre schelp whose place you took.

I have an employee very upset because she usually got oustandings or
exceeds. My response was that her previous bosses must have had low
standards or didn't have the courage to assess people fairly. I knew
when writing the review I was fair and accurate. I asked her to think
carefully if she were in my position how she would assess her
performance and we would talk about it in the coming weeks. I shared
with her the criteria as defined by the company as to what meets,
exceeds and outsanding means.

So please, if you're a manager, assess your people fairly, most should
be meets with a few star performers (exceeds) and a few that are
having breakout - free agent kind of year (outstanding). And, if you
are a staff person who got a meets expectations, good for you! You
did the job you were asked to do.

Now stop your bitching and back to work all you!

Something is happening to my sweet, kind, usually agreeable son. He's
almost 6 and has developed a smart mouth which while funny at times,
I'm trying to squash. He's developed a knack for farting on command
and burping and blowing it in my face - which since I taught him, I
can't be all that mad at, and he's learned to throw fits. Not the kind
you see from a toddler where they lay on the floor and do the rag doll
thing when you try to pick him up. No, these are temper tantrums of
a grander scale. These are the kind that make me think "Hmmm, either
Linda Blair lives here or I need an exorcist".

Trying to be the understanding - where is this coming from parent, I
hope it's because life has been too much for him lately. We moved 4
weeks ago, he's been to SoCal, he's made new friends and now spends
hours running through yards and playing hard, and he's just off. I
hope that's it, I hope these irrational, can't calm him down,
hysterical, head spinning, body floating off the bed fits stop
because, frankly, I can't do it. Last night he fell asleep in our
room watching TV, we carried him over to his bed, he kind of woke up,
realized what was happening, and then lost it. He didn't want to
sleep in his room, he didn't want to go to sleep, he didn't want me to
leave, he wanted me to get out, he couldn't explain what was wrong. I
tried holding him, he flailed so I let go. I tried yelling at him -
he was screaming too loud to hear me, I tried leaving, he flung
himself at the doorway so I couldn't get past. Finally I just laid
down on his bed and didn't say a word. 10 minutes later, realizing
that I was not going to do a damn thing, he got in laid beside me,
took a deep breath and smiled at me - he was back.

This morning same thing happens again. And odd again too. I'm giving
hugs and kisses goodbye and all of a sudden it's, I don't want you to
go. I explain that my job gives me money which lets us live here,
etc. I need to go. Give him a big hug and ask him to come down and
wave goodbye which is our morning ritual. Instead of the OK, I get
the demon show again. This time there was weird flailing and bouncing
on knees (had to have hurt) red face yelling, and getting so worked
up that he's no longer thinking straight. The difference this morning
was that I was frustrated, felt the clock ticking and new I needed to
leave and confused - who was this he-devil that has inhabitied my sons
body? I, being the super mom that I am, did the worst thing possible -
got right up in his face and yelled - CALM DOWN. You know because
when an adult screams at you, you always relax. Then Hubby, eager to
help raise the children, decided had had enough. When pushed hubby
turns into a Dad from the 50's and just starts shouting out
punishments "You'll be on restrictions" "No TV or Games today" "Quiet
now or you'll be in your room ALL DAY". AIIIEEE.

Finally I just left. Walked out of the whole mess, and hoped that my
departure would settle things down. Got to work and am more than
distracted by the whole thing - my whole being is off. I feel
horrible for leaving with my child in such a state, but he wasn't
rational, and I didn't know how to calm him down. I'm sitting here at
work worried. Is this the sigh of some deivant behavior? Is this
just overload? Do I have a child with a raging temper like the kind
that I've heard about in hubby's family and frankly scares me? Am I a
bad Mom for leaving today? Could I have taken the few extra minutes
to make it better? What will fix this? Will he do it again tonight?

I'm not sure where to go from here. I thought he and I talking
through last night had helped, clearly not. I'm not sure if once he's
back on a school routine and out of this summer frenzy he'll feel
better so I should just wait a few months and ride the storms when
they come. The disciplinarian in me says I need to teach him this
behavior will not be tolerated, but watching him this morning, it was
clear he was not in control of himself. Oh god, what if he starts
killing bunnies in the backyard and my sweet kind child goes away?
Ok, I'm over reacting a little, but if you'd seen it, you'd be shocked
yourself.

I guess I'll do what I always do in these moments, arm myself with the
most information possible - book order at Amazon pending, email all my
girls for advice - and yes, 'll take any adivce you readers may have.
I have web stats, so I know you're reading, NOW is the time for some
input. And, for any of you Catholics out there - got a good preist
and some holy water you could send my way. If all else fails, I'm
going for exorcism. (I have such warped humor) I can see my child in
therapy 20 years from now.... "And then my Mom threw water at me and
yelled - OUT BEAST". Seriously, I'm a little freaked by this, and yes
100 bones in the thearpy jar. *sigh*

Work is busy today - turns out the government actually has stuff to do to protect the citizens of this great land this week.  My posts have been long anyway and you're probably tired of scrolling through my life.  Plus I'm tired, little prince and big daddy got back last night.  I really missed the boys and loved being hugged and adored by the men in my life.  Big daddy was especially happy to see me and showed me just how much later that night ....ummm ummmm ummmm.    I'll spare you from my sexcapades, but lets just say he's still got it.  We did decide that we need to go somewhere for a weekend just the two of us, we need to have some adult play time where we can be loud, parade around naked and just have some good ol fashioned fun.  You know, act like we're single again. 

The first time we went out on a date was a Friday, he didn't leave my apartment until Sunday, heck we didn't even get up to eat until late afternooon on Saturday and only did so because we were starving.  I can still remember sitting in TGI Fridays giddy from huger and new love.  He was amazing, so kind, so open, and such a great kisser; I knew I was falling in love and it felt great.  10 years later and we still it, he can still bring the heat, and I still love the idea of spending a weekend in bed together.  Right now we settle for quiet, late night trists, or weekend, the kids are down for thier nap, sex (sadly little prince is outgrowing naps) and that's ok, we love our kids and hey, it's those wild nights that brought them here.  But I can tell you this, the first weekend we get the last one off to college we plan to stay in bed all weekend, maybe grab diner at Fridays to remember for old time sakes.  Yeah my my boobs will be saggy and his balls wrinkly, but it will be another one of those weekends to remember.

Yes I missed my man this past week, blushed a little thinking about that weekend again - maybe have to show him how much I missed him again tonight.  He won't know what to do with himself - 2 nights in a row - honey is something wrong?  No baby, I just missed you and got to thinking about TGI Fridays today.  Rarrrrrrr.

I had to run errands today with little Princess. This is not something I like to do because it takes for-ever but weddings were coming up and I needed to hit the shops. The first few stops were easy, I had purchased a ring pop, only mildly scolding myself for giving my child such sugary sweetness at 9:30am, and instead of doing the Sit. Down. Now. Now, I said. Little Miss Princess, SIT DOWN or no Dora. SIT DOWN OR I"M GIVING YOU TO THE NEXT PERSON THAT WALKS BY. I actually was able easily get what I needed. By noon I was feeling good - hit 2 stores, filled 2 carts, picked up the Harry Potter book with the hopes that I get a little reading in later today, and we're one to the final two stops.

I had prepped the last two by calling yesterday from work and purchasing what I needed. Knowing I would be with Princess, I figured I could just swing in, pick up and go. See I needed to go to Crate and Barrell AND Crate and Barrell outlet. I figured if I paid in advance, how long could it take to run in, pick up the purchases and run out. HA! HAHAHAHA!

Have you been in one of these things lately? I used to go all the time, I loved shopping at the outlet, it had great prices and my house had that cool crate and barrell feel at target prices. I hadn't been since the kids were born, and clearly forgotten just how silly it was to think I could survive with a toddler. You'd think they put up one of those height things at the entrances that says, unless you child is this tall OR so tiny they're strapped in a stroller, DO NOT COME IN. First, there are tons of displays that are lined up right to the edges so a little nudge will send the whole thing topiling. And the colors are great for toddlers, everything looks so cool, so fun to touch. I'd always like the look of the store as you go up to it - oohh, pretty. Princess thought so too as her ring popped finger slowly reached out to touch the.... PRINCESS (whisper yell) do.not.touch.anything.

Fuck, what have I done.

Ok, pick her up and walk directly to the register, hold her tightly so hands and legs are tucked in squarely at sides. Avoid glances of all the people who clearly don't have children who are giving me that what is she doing here look and hurriedly ask for my stuff. And wait. and wait. Now she's squirming, wants down, wants to reach out and touch the cool mini addison bowls. I agree they looked cool, I wished I could leave her in the car and take an hour and just look at things - its all SO on sale and Oh, I miss coming here, and oh wait, she'd die in this heat in the car (hey I got left in a car and I turned out fine), so must continue to hold her and pray the women comes back soon. Exactly 7 minutes and 3 near display knocking over avoidances later we get the bags. One problem. They are big and I need both hands to carry them which means I will have to put princess down and (deep ominious voice) let her walk through the store. In my head I heard the scream you always hear in those old scary movies. Thanks to some damn long fingers and some bag rearranging, I figured out that if I held the bags just right I could keep a hold of her hand and I carefully dragged her out of the store while avoiding dislocating the elbow or shoulder, which frankly, is damn lucky for her.

On to stop 2, and good news, on the way she falls asleep. I know, I should have stopped while I was ahead. It's a DUH Amy moment. But the trip took a little over an hour so I figured she'd at least have some rest. Yeah, she usually sleeps for 2 hours, and we all like to get woken up right in the middle of a good car nap right?

We fought for 10 minutes just to get her up and awake enough to come out of the car. We fought for 5 more minutes about her pacifier aka num num. I may be a bad Mom for not weening her off this sooner, but there was no way I was walking into a Crate and Barrell flagship store with a 3 year old with a num num in her mouth. Come on! Compromised on it going in my purse, but there was no comprise for me holding her. LIttle miss saw a cool display of the mercer platter and was determined to walk to it. Well we don't even get 3 feet in the door and she sees the furniture. This be-ut-ti-ful leather couch and she's up and on it bouncing. OH NO, it's post sleep, I'm still tired so i'n hyper Princess. I head over, sit down next to her, pretend like I'm actually interested in very expensive couch and then proceed to grab her arm in a death grip and pick/carry her to the register. Problem with this store is that there was a line. A rather long line. Looked around and realized they were all like that so we were going to just have to suck it up and stand still. Stop laughing. At no point did I think, hmmm, maybe do this another day, even smarter, let's call them from the cell in the parking lot and pay to have this stuff shipped. No what I thought was. God Damn it, this little princess is going to learn some manners. She's old enough that she needs to be able to stand in this line and behave. I'm an idiot.

The good news was that we were standing next to all the new silicon stuff. I covet that stuff. SO much better than the wooden spoon. Really neat colors, and some of it is so damn clever. So I decided that I would rather have the scorn of all around me and a quiet and content girl. (Note to fellow customers: it was just silicon stuff people and you should wash it before you use it anyway). We arranged and rearranged a lot of that display. I know people were not please with me, but I just kept thinking to myself, I can't wait until you're sorry ass gets knocked up and you can't come here anymore! We finally got to the front of the line, explained what was needed and began to wait. And wait. Princess started losing it, begging for her num num. People kept glancing over with the airplane glance. I almost stepped back and told this women (with beautifully manicured toes) have at it. But instead I picked her up and sat her on the counter and proceeded to play guess which hand with her num num for the next 8 minutes. I couldn't give in to have her sucking on it, but I figured if we played guess which hand then it would for the most part be hidden and she would be entertained. Finally came back with our stuff, and we made it out of the store safely.

I am tired now. I dont' think I've adequately explaining just how much glasswear, breakable stuff, non-kid proof those stores are. I was terrified the entire time that things would go crashing to the ground and I would have to race out of there for fear of having to pay for 30 broken white wine glasses. Thankfully we made it in one peice. Princess never went back to sleep so she's grouchy and tired and hopefully will go to bed without much fuss tonight. And I will open Harry Potter, and think for a moment of how great it would be to have wand beacuse today would have been much easier with a little witchcraft and wizardry.

Ok, so maybe it's all worth it.  Hubby just called and he has found a box of pictures.  Pictures from his youth.  Did I mention he has NONE?  Not one of him earlier than 22 which is when we met.  In it he found one of him hugging his Mom while they both look at the camera - he figures he can't be more than 5 or 6.

I could hear the loss in his voice.  Knew he's gone back in time to that moment, knew the chasm of heartache because he misses her so damn much.  Wish I could have been there to hold him.

Bring it all back, I'll put it up proudly.

Do you think she was watching me type this last post and is fucking with me?

Ok Mom, you're shit is safe with me, now quit freaking me out.

That's me. A heartless bitch. Selectively sentimental, and not that great at loving things or symbols that in fact are junk. At least that's how I feel today, torn between the sentiment and the recognition that a large pile of junk is about to show up at my house.

See here's the scoop - hubby's mother died 15 years ago, he was still a teenager, it was totally awful and sudden, and tragic and he misses her something awful to this day. Losing her is a part of what defined hubby and who he is, it's part of the reason he is so kind and generous - he knows loss and how sudden it can be. He misses his Mom terribly and to this day on her birthday, major holidays and anniversary of her death, we take special care to remember and honor her. I am happy to say that I think I make it just a little bit better for him. I wish I would have known her as I think we would have gotten along famously, and I can cry at the drop of a hat when thinking about how she was the angel at my shoulder when my son was born, and how she has continued to watch and guard our family.

So I'm not a total heartless bitch, but just wait till you hear the whole story before you judge me. Ok, so when she died the kids were teens and it was hard to divide up the house and her possessions. Some family members took adavantage and we see her furniture in their house to this day. Others were kind and kept boxes in their house, garage, etc. so as the kids got older they could claim their stuff. When hubby and I got married the family started inquring as to when we would be taking the stuff. Since we lived in a tiny apartment, we thought it best to rent a storage unit out in SoCal and move everything there. Well that was 8 years ago, and I told hubby this year when he goes out to SoCal he needs to shut down that $100/month storage unit and ship back what he plans to keep to our recently moved in castle.

Great right? Well here's the rub. A lot of what is coming back is junk. Old junk. 15 year old junk. Ok, to be fair there's like one box of nice stuff, but other than that I've paid to store and will pay to ship the equivalent of a 5x8x10 (that's footage not inces) box of junk. Like I said, I'm a bitch, it's ok, you can say it too, I know. The stuff can be categorized into two groups - things from hubby's childhood - large box of used, heat-discolored star wars figurines including the millenium broken-ass falcon. And, things from his Mom's house that he said he wanted because he didn't want anything thrown away at the time. I do get some of it. Your mom just died, your young, your house is being divided up, and there are things that no one is specifically asking for, so you say, I want it. But as an adult, you'd think that he would want to weed through some of it right? Nope.

Oh comeon Amy you're exaggerating, I'm sure she had nice things. Yep, she did - and they are already at the castle. I will conceed that I am not a collector, we moved alot so I don't like to have too much shit around - just have to pack it back up. No, 3 full sets of spoons including racks to hang them on do not excite me. Yes one of them is from Charles and Diana's wedding, but they're divorced and she's dead, so how special is it? And, if it were just the spoons I'd probably be feeling more tollerant, but that is just the tip of the collectable iceberg, and what he's telling me he's found, I can only imagine what's in some of those boxes that he hasn't even opened. I have tried to be very supportive over the phone and only announced once - if you can't fit it in the box that's being shipped you better give it away or throw it the fuck out, I'm done paying to store that shit. Silience. Chirp. Chrip. Clearly I'm dancing a line.

Here are a few of the things that I know will be coming to my house in less than 2 weeks. 3 sets of encyclopedias all dated prior to 1985 A rather large salt and pepper collection. A box of used tupperwear (I am totally serious) including used ice tea pitcher and those large skinny plastic cups. A stereo from the 70's that looks like a buffet table that you open the doors to get access to it, actually it looks like this. Oh no, it doesn't work. I also will be the proud owner of 9 boxes of books that may have some mold or other water damage, the Castle of Greyskull, 2 old skate boards minus the trucks (whatever the fuck that means) and the best of all - an original nintendo complete with duck hunt, gun and best of all, zelda.

I will be spending the next few days practicing my comments, so that the phrase "throw that nasty thing out" is never uttered. Instead, I'll be going for. Oh, honey, it's too bad that this hasn't held up over time, I'm a little disappointed with the storage unit, I thought the climate controlled room would have kept this better. Do you think we can salavage it? I know I'm a heartless bitch, but I can't step on poor Ma's grave. I can tell you this before you totally send hate mail - IF she were alive today, this shit would already be gone!

This morning at 4:30am, precisely One hour and 38 minutes before my alarm was to go off, the shirll scream of my child peirced the night and I jumped out of bed.  Turns out little miss had fallen out of bed and was freaked.  Thankfully nothing was hurt and I carried her back to my room to settle her back down.  36 minutes of begging to watch princesses and her tugging in my hair and she finally fell back to sleep.

2 hours and 45 minutes after that, or 7:45 in case I'm not doing time right, I woke up - that would be about 90 minutes later than I planned.  Saw the clock, did the double take holy shit and hopped into the shower.  Scrub, scrub, scrub and by 8:00 I'm in the basics, teeth brushed and contacts in.  Click.  Click.  Click, Click, Click.  What isn't the hair dryer coming on?  Curling iron light is on, outlet has not blown.  Pull out plug, Reset. Click. Click.  Reset. Reset.  Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.  8:05.  Run to other room with dryer.  Click. Click.  Unplug and spin it around - has little miss changed some power thing somewhere and messed this thing up?  Spin, Spin, Spin.  Can't find anything.  Plug it back in.  Click. Click.  Shit nothing.  Shit, I spent 40 fucking dollars on this thing 3 months ago so I woudln't go through them so quickly and this mother chucker isn't working. Ok, time's a wasting, should have left 30 minutes ago.  Towel dry bangs and kind of style - get a monster clip and just hope for the best.

Oh good, cute earings, that way people will see my pretty pink danglies and not notice how jacked up my hair is.  Time for clothes. Pants on - where's the top? Push clothes around for 5 more minutes - AHHHHH dry cleaners, never made it over there.  Change again.  Change again, Change again.  Vow to order some new shirts to wear with my suits that don't have permanent kids stains on them.  Ok good enough.  Rush downstairs, quick goodbye and grateful hug to Mom. Car on - and driving. exactly 4 hours after my morning began.  Hmmm, I'm hungry, let's start in on that bagel while I sit in this traffic.  Hey, where's the bagel?  Or my coffee?  Or my LUNCH? 

Give me a redo button so I can Click.

I have an overactive imagination.  I know it, I've known it for years, and many times it's served me well.  I can entertain my self for hours with stories in my head while waiting at the doctors office.  My daughter, aka mini me, and I can spend days pretending to be princesses or alligators and have stories that weave through the house.  It's part of why Iove books so much, my imagination lifts me into the story and takes me away (2 days until Harry Potter!) and even at work it's helped me develop and deliver new and innovative solutions.

BUT, it also scares me, it makes me stay awake all night waiting for the bogey man.  Many years ago I realized that I can't watch scary movies, no matter how farsical, they freak me out, in my world, that stuff could really happen.  When I was teenager, I was at a party where they watched Friday the 13th (boys were so clever to pick the scary movies so the girls would scream and hug them) and it almost did me in.  For weeks I slept with the lights on and laying on my side for fear that he was under my bed ready to stab me.  Nutty right.  I learned just to stay away from them.  Never saw Nightmare on Elm Street.  Hawloween - Hawlo-NO.  I even banned super suspenseful, or anything that has scary people stalking others.  Sorry, not entertainment for me - I'll take Gilo over Child's Play anyday.

A few years ago my husband convinced me to watch Scary Movie.  It's soooo good he said, it's not that scary.  I asked around - everyone loved it. I finally agreed when it came out on video but mandated that we a) watch it during the day and b) stop it if I got freaked.  I never got past the first 8 minutes.  Hello, when someone is stalking a girl outside on the telephone and makes it clear they're watchin her and then she turns on the light and there is her boyfriend outside - fuck that!  Of course I got scared, I was beyond scared, I was freakin' paniced.  I ended up shutting it off and bitching at him for days.  I also turned the porch lights on before it got dark so there would be no surprises and I made a point of making sure my cell phone worked in case someone fucked with the main line.

So yes, I'm nuts - but you knew that already. For the most part I have it under control, I stay away from scary shit, and as long as hubby is home I am relatively unafraid.  Of course I do have an alarm system, a knife between the matress and boxspring, and my cell phone next to my bed.  But everyone does that right?  For you gun activists out there, DON'T even start with me about why I'd feel safer with Mr. Smith and Wesson by my side  - remember this is an over active imagination, not a real threat, I live in the burbs, not south central.  If I were to have a gun, there are high odd I'd ended up shooting the neighbors cat rather than some killer.

This week the boys are gone.  My mom is here, but frankly, she's not going to save my ass from Charles Manson (by the way, DO NOT read Helter Skelter or watch any tv movies about him, because he really did that stuff) so I spend a good part of the twilight hours between 10pm and exhaustion worried about bad things happening.  Last night I was in my kitchen turning out lights and getting ready to head up for bed when I looked out onto my screened in porch and froze with terror.  Oh god, someone could be out there.  I should turn on the light so that I'm not scared.  What if I turn on the light and mom is tied up out there just like scary movie.  Ok, don't turn on the light.  Shit, I gotta let the dog out - that means opening the fucking door to that porch. Shit. Shit. Shit.  Ok, Aim, buck up, this is just your wacked out imagination.  Turn on the porch light and the flood late, comeon girl.  Flick.  Porch is clear, where's the flood light.  Crap!  Someone is out there and disabled it.  Crap, they're going to kill the dog while she's taking a piss and then come and get me and mom and little miss.  Fuck.  Ok, call the hubby and stay on the phone with him while you let the dog out.  Ok, good - got a dial tone.  Hubby to me - "Scared again huh".  Me - fuck you, the flood light is out, and who knows what lurks in the yard.  Chat about nothing, prepared to scream details if the worse should happen.  Dog comes back safely.  Locks on. Alarm on. Porch Light Still on.  Deep breath.  Ok, I'm not going to sleep unless I calm down.  Into the pantry I go.  I costco red plastic cup, 2 parts vodka, one part cream de caco, ice and a splash of water later and gulp, gulp, gulp, I'm ready for bed. 

It took me a rerun of Entourage and most of Conan to finally relax and shut my eyes, but I did it.  I made it through the night and am alive to tell the tale.  4 more nights until Big Tough Hubby comes home.  God I'm pathetic.

http://img326.imageshack.us/img326/4183/jugglingmom2fn.jpg

Not a lot baby girl just a lil bit
We can head to the crib in a lil bit
I can show ya how I live in a lil bit
I wanna unbutton your pants just a lil bit
Take 'em off and pull 'em down a lil bit
Get to kissin' and touchin' a lil bit
Get to lickin' and (*edited*) a lil bit

-----------------

I am late to his party.  I've got P.Diddy's stuff, even a little bit of Nelly, but a man who was shot 8 times and didn't seem phased by it, well that just didn't seem right for a momma like me to be listeing to.  Went to his Sony Records website and it looked a little like grand theft auto - clearly he and I would not be hanging if found in the same room.  Oh Fiddy, do think getting shot in your shoulder would hurt more or less than labor?

Not sure I'm ready to buy the albumn, but damn, when this song comes on, the hips can't help but grove, the song makes you wanna.... just a lil bit.

I was diagnosed with sleep apnea about 8 weeks ago.  It's this lovely thing where you stop breathing while you sleep. I've known for a while that I probably had it - heck I've woken myself up from snoring, but I didn't think it was that big of a deal or that big if an issue with my health.

Well Super Mom was wrong!  I went and had a sleep study done and they came back and told me that I not only had it, but it was VERY extreme.  The extreme that kills people kind, the extreme that causes heart attacks, strokes and all sorts of other death and dying illnesses.  Moreover, it was having an impact on my weight (and the inability to lose it) and my fertitlity (or lack thereof).  

It's werid because when the Dr. was talking to me, I was thinking holy crap, this is serious, I just thought I snored a bit, I mean, death, stroke, heart attack?!?!?!?!  And at the same time he was saying how really excited he is because I must feel like crap all the time (yeah, I'm a mother of two young kids who doesn't) and how the weight will drop off me, and how I'll get pregnant in a snap, so the left side of me is going - yeah, I'll get skinny again, and the right side of me thinking, I could die from this shit.  This is truly the first time my own mortality came up and smaked me in the face, I never have had anything sersiously wrong with me, heck I haven't even broken a bone or something that needed a cast.  I left feeling scared and vulnearable and worried about my kids and worried about leaving hubby too soon, and hopeful that my already great life would be filled with another child, and scared of what treatments lied ahead.

So, fast forward to a few doctors appointments later and I now have an excuse for being over-weight - yeah, and have become the proud new owner of a cpap machine.  A cpap machine -is that a fancy name for vibrator?  Nope, it's this box that sits by my nightstand, has a hose that comes out of it that looks very much like the one attached to my vacuum cleaner, and the hose attaches to a mask that is securely on my face, covering my nose and mouth, through a series of velcro straps.  Think granma with her oxygen mask, only it's strapped on like some rubber ball gag.  It's embarassing to wear this thing, it's gray and ugly and I asked if the hose came in pink but they just looked at me odd.  Being the geek that I am, I can't help but think of all the science fiction movies like alien and fear that I'm going to weak up on the mother ship becaue the aliens will have spotted me in this thing and confused me for one of their own.

The good news is that after only a few days I'm feel more rested.  Turns out when you wake up every 6 minutes, your body has a hard time getting rested.  The bad news is that without surgery I will have to wear this thing for the rest of my life - or to quote my fave sponge bob episode foooorrrrrevvvveerrrr.   The alternative to not wearing it is - well early death.  Ok, I am exaggerating, maybe just a stroke.

Hubby has been gone since the cpap machine has arrived.  When he returns, he will find his wife in a sexy outfit, with a giant hose coming from her face and breathing in that weeefffffff shhhhhhh weeffffffff shhhhhh Vader-esque way and I will look at him with love in my eyes and say "Luke, I am your father, come give Daddy a kiss'".  And he will, because we all know that Darth Vader is sexy.

My boys are in California this week visting Hubbys' family.  I didn't go because I don't have a lot of leave at work, and I need to save it for my side of the families obligatory trips!  The good news is they are having a great time - going to see the Angels baseball game, playing with cousins, lots of swimming.  The even better news for me is that my Mom has come down to stay with me while they're gone and watch little miss for the week.

That's right, I have my Mommy, and having her around is great.  It's like having a wife.  She entertains my daughter with hours of tea party and dress-up.  She goes grocery shopping and makes dinner for me.  She picks up my house and is helping me unpack, and she loves doing it.  She loves being needed, and loves that her ferociously independent, I can do it my damn self daughter has given in, cried uncle, and is now grateful for her help, and begs her to come visit.

Don't worry, I'm not a slave driver, I don't even make a list for her. She just does it.  She likes helping, likes taking care of "her girls", she's from the midwest, they program that nuturing, homemaker crap into you there.  What amazes me is how much I am happy for her to do it.  When I was younger I resented any help from Mom, I always felt like it was some sublte critique of me, or that she didn't belive I could do it myself.  Now, I realize, that she just likes to be needed by her family, to feel relevant.  This is even more obvious because my brother, once a mammas boy, has decided that he doesn't need her now that he has a wife.  It makes her sad that he no longer wants her special brownies, or her to come down and help around his house.  I'm sad for her that he's like that, but secretly love it because it's more time for me!

Tonight, when I leave work, I will come home to a clean house, diner will be on the table and the girls will have a nice evening singing songs, coloring, and playing.  I'm glad I've grown up enough to know that I not only love my Mom, but I also like her company, and most importanly, I can accpet her help. 

As the manager of web developers, you'd think I'd know better  - heck I practically beat it into them.  But for those of you who don't make your living off the web, here's the lesson learned for today:

When you are making changes to code, templates, or just good ol html, change one thing then test it.  If you change several things at one time and it doesn't work right, look right, link right, then you'll have a harder time figuring out what's broke.

DUH AMY!

There is nothing like a good list.  I love em, have em for all kinds of things in my life, groceries, work to do, house to do, people to call, bills to pay, I have master lists to manage the big picture and detail lists for when I'm focused on one thing.  Today I cranked through several lists, and best of all it, wasn't all icky stuff.  Yes I unpacked 3 more boxes, yes I went grocery shopping, yes I organized bills, but I also, played with my blog space, went out to lunch with little miss, downloaded 3 new songs to my ipod, AND, organize my spices.

In short, I accomplished everything I set out to do today, and I still have hours left to spare.  Since little miss has been so good today, I think rather than doing more chores or unpacking, I'll spend an evening just giving her my undivided attention.  We'll do our nails, and she can put all kinds of clips in my hair, and we'll be Disney Princesses and to make sure we're balanced and not sending her the wrong image, I'll also sing math songs, and we'll look for bugs in the backyard.

This is my alter ego, it's how how I see myself.  So totaly NOT who I am, but if I hadn't fallen in love, gotten married, had 2 kids, and settled in the burbs, I would totally be this girl.

I needed a new look for my blog, I can only go so long with a feel before it's time for a change - this drives hubby crazy as furniture is constantly getting rearranged until it feels "right".  Of course, I have little to no time for creative efforts on my own, so tonight I vowed to hunt for a free one that would allow me to finally link to others,  improve the flexibility of adding additonal areas of content without lots of coding, and most importantly have a good vibe.

My initial goal was to find a good retro/cool mom look, but nothing really said me.  When I saw this, it clicked but not the me I know, the other me, the one who travled Europe, had many lovers, had been on at least 5 of the continents, and had that body that went on for miles.  I'm grateful I ended up not being her, but boy, I betcha she had a lot of fun.

My blog is a place to lay down my thoughts, I like that my alter ego will be joining me here.

I should be unpacking at least one room in my house so it's totally done, instead I'm spending my free day surfing the web and chilling. Is there a Saint or Hindu god or somebody I can call out to motivate me. My neighbors must be a little freaked, when you open the garage, there is no room for cars, instead, there is a couch, a bunch of boxes, a TV, and a Dale Jr. Flag.

Yee Haw, we're trashin' up the neighborhod.

Back to St. Cardbord, patron saint of boxes.

Ok so you all think I have this irrational fear of sharks. Well let me tell you something. They are out there in the very water you swim in (unless it's a lake or pool) and just because you don't see the fin doesn't mean they aren't crusing right past your sunscreened ass.

This time, on this trip, we actually got to see the sharks up close and personal. No, not at an aquarium, they were right there in the surf with us. Feeding right next to where my kids were frolicking in the surf. Yes, that's right HOLY SHIT.

For those of you who are doing the - uh, Amy, it was a dolphin, porpoise, or some other swimming mammal. You need to know this - I live with a mini Jaq Cousteau. He knows all about our great atlantic ocean, even has a guide to sea shells which I think qualifies him as a dork. But when it comes time for animal identification, I defer to him.

Here's how it went down. I'm sitting with good friend talking about work, family, decompressing, at the very edge of the water while our daughters exfoilate us with a sand scrub. We would periodically look at the hubbys with our wonder boys to make sure the hubbys were a)watching them b)making sure the boys didn't fight over who got the Rocket Power surfboard. We both hear the Dad's say - out of the water now, and half carry/half drag our boys to the sand. I of course, pop up and immediately begin looking out to sea for "The Fin" - yes in my head I heard the theme from Jaws, but hey I've always been dramatic. My husband, points and says there - and right in front of us - where the waves break in - right where my child and his best friend had been standing, a beige fin with a black tip rises out of the water and cuts through the surf. AUUUUGGGGGGGGHHHHH. I will have you note, at this point my hubby said, "This is so Cool".

Being a GREAT Mom, I don't panic, I don't run and pick up all of our stuff and say - back to the pool, I just camly, look and point and show my son how you can see them turning to get into the shallow water to catch the fish (note - the water was mid-calf on me) and that you could tell it was a black tip because daddy said so, AND the black tip on it's fin. Inside I was freaked, but I was determined not to teach the kids to be afraid. Since we were on a beach with no life guard, it was up to us to decide how long to stay out of the water. We could see them swimming up the coast, and we walked up to the next group - told them about it - and people just passed the word up the beach. To be fair, the sharks were follwing a school of fish, and yeah they have to eat, so I didn't feel like they were stakling us.

Fast forward an hour later and the boys are back in the water, the girls are playing in the surf, and I am standing knee deep in the ocean pretending to look calm and relaxed. Oh yeah, just hanging out, whoo hooo, this is great. In reality, i was a mom on alert. In one hand I had a digging shovel which I figured i could use to beat them off, and i would casually look and turn, look and turn.

This happened the second day we were there. We went to the beach 5 more times. Didn't see the shark again. We are planning to go back in September. If you find yourself at the Atlantic Seashore, and you see a women, standing mid-calf in the ocean with a sand shovel in her hand trying to look casual, come by, say hi.

Oh, One last thing - I scretly fear that maybe these blogs have some sort of power and beause I wrote about sharks they showed up in real life. I'll have to write about winning the lottery......

I used to work in downtown DC.  I loved it.  I loved coming up to the city and seeing the capital sitting on a hill and knowing the power and authority the resided within it.  I loved driving by the Jefferson and seeing his shadow.  I loved the rhythm of the city, busy and bustling but not crazy like New York.  You could feel the power in that town, could feel the people at lunch who were ambitious and looking to get ahead, but they did it in a subtle way, real power didn't need to be flexed out in front of you, it ran like a current under the surface.  I miss working down there, talking walks at lunch and looking to my right to see the White House. I miss the ebb and flow of commuters getting on and off the metro, driving slightly out of control to get to work.

So why don't I work somewhere that I truly love?  2 reasons, the commute and terrorists.  See the commute was awful almost everyday. Whether you took the metro or you sat in your car, there was always something that messed it up - ice on the rails, accident on the bridge, you just didn't know what was going to come your way.  Some days I could get to work in 45 minutes, most days it was more like an hour and a half.  What was so frustrating was knowing that entire trip was 14 miles door to door. Just 14.  I wasn't coming from West Virginia (which some people do) I wasn't coming from outside the beltway, I lived 14 miles from my office, and it took me over an hour each way each day to drive.  Well, after 12 years, it was getting to be too much. 

What pushed me over the edge, though was something much worse than traffic, it was the fear of being trapped or hurt in a city when my kids were 14 miles away.  14 very long miles.  14 miles that takes me past the white house, the international monetary fund buildings, the state department and the pentagon.  Or 14 miles that takes me on a train under the city, over the Potomac, still past the pentagon, and finally home.  After 9/11 those of us that commuted downtown all became a little more vigilant.  Whose driving that white van?  Why is that person stopping?  Whose brief case is that?  For me, I realized that my fears were going to become paranoia and I would slowly drive myself crazy if I continued to commute into the capital of the nation that so many people seemed to hate.  I am bred to plan for the worst, be prepared for the unexpected, our family is full of contingencies for all kinds of crazy things, but I was spending that hour-each-way commute not only worried about being late but also "on alert" worrying about who might be leaving something behind on the metro, or who might decide today is the day to make my mark on the state department.  It just got to be too much.

When I got to work today, at my office in the burbs, I checked the news and saw the reports coming out of London.  I was so sad for those people, so angry that this is still happening, and also sad for those who were totally fine, but know that they're daily routines will never be quite the same again.  But most of all, selfishly, i was relieved. Grateful that I wasn't in DC, to know that today I wouldn't be anxious getting home, to know that I didn't have to worry about being trapped 14 miles away.