Fish

I had to go to orientation for my new job yesterday.  You know, because it totally makes sense to get oriented to your workplace over a month after you originally started.

It was pretty much the typical shit you would expect from an orientation.  Lots of happy feel good crap about how we are the cream of the crop, etc. (because I totally did NOT get this job because of the people I knew or anything like that.  Nope, not at all...) and how HONORED the senior management is to have us working for them.  Then they threw in all the expected boring ass shit about HIPPA and getting fired for running your mouth and where to park and how to check your e-mail.


It threw me for a loop, though, when they showed the video about Fish.  It is basically this show about these guys who work in a fish market and they throw fish around all day.  And that is exactly how they introduced it, and I totally thought that they were joking until they showed it and that was exactly what it was, men throwing fish.

Except....they really liked their jobs.  They really had fun.  They were...playing.  While at work.  While LIVING THEIR LIVES.

Holy fuck.  These guys worked 14 hour days; had to get up at 5 AM, smelled like dead fish all day long...and they were enjoying life.  What the hell do I have to complain about?  I have a job I (mostly) love, a roof over my head, I (mostly) am able to pay my bills, I have three beautiful children...yet I often find the worst things to focus on.  I have to get up earlier than I want.  I sometimes have to work late.  I don't have the house I want.  I have a chronic autoimmune disease... but I am still alive.

I came to the conclusion that my attitude did, in fact, need to shift.  How quickly I forgot the exercise I did over Thanksgiving where I came up with something I was thankful for during all 30 days of November.    This is a stretch for me.  I am, by nature, one to see the negative in things.  I used to view it as being a realist and pragmatic.  Maybe I need to start looking for the magic in things.

I need more fish in my life.

Sick

So poor Alexis has some kind of stomach bug.  And of course, now that I have spent the better part of the day cleaning up puke, the smell is permanently burned into my nostrils and I smell it everywhere.  At one point she cuddled up to me while I was messing around on Facebook  (don't judge me; she was lying on the couch and Charlie was sleeping.  It's not like I was ignoring the kids to play on the computer...) and right after she did, she spewed all over me, her, the couch, and on my laptop.  You know you are a parent when you  have ever had to wonder if vomit will ruin your laptop.  Or a college student, but really if you are drinking and going on the computer you will real quick learn the disastrous results.  Today's version of drunk dialing, I suppose, but with a potentially unlimited audience.

Anyways, now I feel all vomit-y myself.  What is it about cleaning up puke that makes you want to puke, too?  Between that and the raging cold Charlie has going on, my children's germs are sure to attack my immune system from all sides in the hopes that someone, anyone, will be victorious.  I know from past experience that when I get sick it is usually not fun.  Of course, I don't have the luxuries that other members of my family have when they are sick.  I am still expected to cook and clean and remember things.  Today, for instance, Alexis's illness made her completely stumped by the complexities that are involved with buttoning her shirt.  My husband will frequently forget how to get up with the children when he is sick.  Elizabeth will take cold meds that knock her out and sleep for hours.  Charlie can emit a whine that really should be studied as a torture method.

Yet I fought off post-partum depression; I deal daily with the sometimes debilitating fatigue and pain from a chronic condition; I have had sinus infections and bronchitis too many times to count over the past year...and I never take a day off.  I am the one getting up with the kids; I do the cleaning and the running and still work 40+ hours.  Is it any wonder that my children tend to be perfectionistic and anxiety-ridden?  Their mother is the freaking queen of it!  I need to start reading my own words, looking at old posts, and make some changes in my life before my children end up in the same boat I am.

Random

More proof that my assertion that eventually IT people will be taking over the world...my laptop recently took an elephant-sized shit and I have been freaking out more than a drug dealer on bath salts robbing a liquor store.  Seriously, if I had the opportunity to trade some sex for a fixed laptop...well, let's just say pass me the Cuervo and let's get.it.on.

Charlie is possibly the most devious child I know.  You try to put lotion on her and she acts as though you are dipping her in a vat of acid after rubbing her skin raw with sandpaper.  She has recently been having a particularly nasty flare-up of eczema.  She has prescription cream to put on it and I really think that she would rather be beaten with extension cords than have to experience the agony of having someone rub this on her person.  So Charles was giving her a bath tonight and told her when he got her out, "We need to put your cream on you."  She promptly began to giggle and squeal at her Daddy.  Guess who forgot the cream?  Score:  Charlie, 1; Parents: 0.

We may have started a new family tradition this year.  My sisters found lamb jammies for us to wear on Christmas Eve.  Me likey.  Nothing says Merry Christmas like having my gin-soaked ass being all comfy in some new warm jammies while simultaneously posing with my equally gin-soaked sisters in front of a life sized Santa doll (don't ask...)

I think that Twitter is my rock and roll.  Meaning that parents in the 50's didn't understand Elvis's gyrating pelvis; I am at a loss as to how expressing oneself in 140 characters became so popular.  Tweeting sounds like something that would occur in a really bad Disney after-school special.

Which probably just ages me even more...I don't think they have those anymore.  Fuck. When did 31 become old?

Maybe I can have a midlife crisis and go tweet about it...
 

Relief

So my computer got a virus-y/Trojan thing tonight.  I called some tech support people and mortgaged my future children to Rumpelstiltskin or something to get it fixed (HA!  Joke's on you mothafuckers...I'M NOT HAVING ANY FUTURE CHILDREN!  AW, SNAP!)

While I was on the phone with them, Deogie got slightly (ahem) excited.  Alexis saw this and asked, "What is that pink thing there?  It's gross?"  To which I replied, "It is his penis, Alexis."

She then promptly said, "EW!  THAT'S GROSS!  I HATE PENISES!"  FIVE INCHES FROM THE PHONE.

I lost it.  Just lost it.  Poor Rumpelstiltskin on the phone probably thought I was totally insane.  I wanted to tell him, "Well, I did used to sell sex toys..." but wisely refrained as he did have remote control over my computer at that point...

Texting

Actual texting between Elizabeth and me:

E:  What time are you coming to get me?

Me:  What time they kicking yo ass out?

E:  What?

Me:  What time they kicking yo ass out?  In other words, when does Janel want you gone?

E:  She said whenever.

Me:  How about I send Charles when he is done burning?   (Clarification:  he was burning garbage, not in hell or like he was on fire or anything...)

E:  What time will that be?

Me:  I will inquire forthwith.

E:  Your (sic) messed up today lol

Me:  And I  have not even been drinking.  Charles says noonish.

E:  OK, so does that mean you have been drinking?

Me:  No, that would be irresponsible.  And vaguely alcoholic like.  But only if you attend meetings.  If not then you are just a drunk.

E:  Only vaguely?

Me:  Well it all hinges on the meeting attendance.  But I am not drinking so it is a moot point I think.

E:  Well alright then

Now THAT is some fantastic parenting there.  Where is my fucking award?

Logic

We took Charlie to Build A Bear last weekend. ("We" is my sister, Elizabeth, Alexis, and myself.)  My sister did this for Alexis for her first birthday, and for Elizabeth for several of hers when she was older.  And before you get all butt hurt for Elizabeth, that was because it did not exist in Ohio for her first birthday, plus she was a poor college student back then and she had to spend what little money she had on necessities like cheap vodka, Pabst Blue Ribbon, Ramen noodles, and condoms. 

It was fun to watch Charlie pick out the bear (actually, a doggie, that we oh so creatively named Doggie for her.  We are a very inventive bunch, fo shure...)  She had a very scientific method here that involved staring down the various animal skins (which really resembled bear skin rugs.  I had a barely contained desire to spread them out in front of the various displays of BAB furniture that were around the store.  I am sure that all of the parents that were there with their sweet innocent children would TOTALLY appreciate the humor in that...).  She then would attempt to remove their eyeballs and pick their noses; if they passed this test then came the final exam of chewing on the ear.  Only Doggie got that far, so I am assuming that there was some pretty stringent requirements that the various animals had to meet that only Doggie met.  Picking out the outfit was easy though...much to my delight, she went right for the Tinkerbell outfit (I call her Princess Tinkerbell, which came from Princess Tink, which evolved from Princess Stinker, which came from Stinker, which came from her being completely uncooperative as a fetus during her non stress tests and ultrasounds.  She definitely earned that nick name then.)

However, she now hates that outfit during bedtime.  In fact, we had to remove it.  Doggie is now naked.  (As a side note, so is Alexis's Beary (notice the originality in naming?).  I am not sure if this is something I should be concerned about with my children, but hey...look who their mother is.  I used to sell sex toys, for God's sake.)

Isn't it funny about what kids get into their minds?  I remember when I was younger someone talking about losing their temper.  I vividly remember walking around our front yard, looking for what I thought was a snake-like creature.  Elizabeth, when she was younger, once asked me why heaven had a gate around it.  Turns out that all the times I pointed out the cemetery where my grandmother, her namesake was buried, and then told her later that she was in heaven, she thought that the cemetery was heaven.  Alexis's first sentence was at the corner store, with Elizabeth and her best friend Jewel.  We were having ice cream and Alexis turned to me and said, "I a big kid".  I was confused, then asked her if she was a big kid because she was having ice cream.  She grinned from ear to ear and nodded.  So it totally follows that Charlie would be OK with her Doggie wearing its clothes during the day only.  In some brand of kiddie logic, it makes sense. 

Wind

As I was leaving work this evening, a cold wind blew through the trees. I caught myself thinking, "That wind smells like cold".  Huh?  WTF?  Does that sentence even remotely make sense taken out of context?  Or even in context, for that matter.  What the fuck does cold smell like?

It smelled like the wind tonight, I will tell you that much.

Thanksgiving

I really feel as though Thanksgiving totally got forgotten.  I totally feel for it, as my family regularly forgets to tell me important things.  Like hey, by the way, your mother has moved out of your childhood home into a condo in another city and no one mentioned it to you...that kind of forgotten.  But hey, don't worry Thanksgiving, that kind of neglect really only adds months onto your future therapy needs!  In relation to the decades you will require, really, just a drop in the hat!

I guess I am as guilty as the next person of forgetting about Thanksgiving in the rush to get Black Friday deals.  My sister even contemplated camping out in the Best Buy parking lot and deep frying the turkey out there.  Then we realized that we might run of out alcohol that way and there was no way in hell my family was going to try to tolerate each other without it (even with the added sleepy effects of the turkey...) so that idea got nixed pretty quickly.  I must say though, that it really seemed as though Christmas overshadows Thanksgiving in a big way this year.

I guess if you compare the holidays, it is pretty much a no brainer.  What to emphasize; the birth of Christ or the beginnings of the systematic oppression and cruelty towards an entire race of people as well as the beginnings of pillaging the land for its natural resources to the extent that we change the climate of an entire fucking planet?  I would buy that if a.) Christians weren't responsible mainly for the latter, and b.) Christmas is really not about the birth of Jesus anymore anyways.

I do go shopping on Black Friday.  This year we skipped Walmart in favor of the $15 jeans at Old Navy.  I have lost a lot of weight (thank you, Dukan diet!) and was down 3 jeans sizes, so that was a no brainer.  Then we went to the mall and for some reason stood in line forever to buy shit at Express.  Only reason why I went for this was because I have my nephew's name for Christmas and he wanted a fucking $60 hoodie that was on sale for $38.  His damn fleece pullover cost more than two pairs of my jeans.  Whatevs, it was what he wanted.  Then we went to Perkins and had really crappy food with even crappier service and waited till 5 AM for Kmart to open to complete my shopping.

I am providing these details because I want to clearly emphasize the next point:  I was tired the rest of that day.  No duh, right?  So I did not go grocery shopping until later that night.  And when I went, I kinda got the feeling I was witnessing the aftermath of...something.  Like an overly dramatic teenager just flipped out on her parents because they tried to show her how to fold a shirt and OMG I am not a baby and you just need to LET GO  and you are RUINING MY LIFE BY BREATHING THE SAME AIR AS ME!!!! and now the parents are left reeling and staggering around with a massive headache, strong desire to drink, and a vague sense of impending doom.  That kind of aftermath.

This is what unfettered materialism does to people.  Capitalism is not bad.  I am all as "Yay Capitalism!" as the next person...but really, America, the workers of retail establishments are people too.  And they don't need to have that look the day after Thanksgiving.  It should be the OMFG I ate too much turkey and now my pants don't fit look.

And for the record, I did today support a small business on Small Business Saturday :) Yay Capitalism!

Bottles

I have been slowly weaning Charlie off her bottles. By slowly, I mean that I have been thinking about how the hell I am going to do this.  That child loves her ba-bas like Katy Perry fans adore her music...with a fiery passion that only they understand (I mean, really?  Have you ever tasted formula?  Or actually listened to Katy Perry's voice?)

I attempted to give her some formula in a cup with her lunch today.  The look she gave me clearly indicated where she thought my intelligence quotient was for that exact moment, and I can tell you that it was NOT in the upper percentiles.  It was probably not even in the low average percentiles.  She barely drinks juice out of a cup; I don't know why I was kidding myself that it was going to be that easy.  She then proceeded to take the cup, look me directly in the eye, and drop it on the floor.  She then resumed shoving her cheese into her mouth.

The doctors recommended that we cut out her nighttime bottle after this last (her 6th...) ear infection.  She is supposed to get tubes on Monday.  Clearly there is some medical necessity here as she is only 10.5 months old...I think they think that we are propping her bottles up for her and allowing her to fall asleep with them, hence the recommendation.  Nothing could be further from the truth.  We have that poor child sitting up so straight while drinking them that it almost looks uncomfortable.  Or maybe they are trying to hint to me that I should start doing more than just thinking about weaning.

I could say that my reluctance to wean is because I want to keep her a baby.  But then I would be lying, and liars go to hell (it's in the Bible somewhere, I am sure...).  I have been actually really enjoying the past few months of watching her bloom and grow.  Sure, it is a bit sad that my baby girl is going to be a year old soon.  But...I never really got to enjoy either Elizabeth's or Alexis's baby-hood the way I am Charlie's.  I was too busy trying to just survive (for different reasons for both, but it was survival nonetheless.)  With Charlie, I have been able to marvel and enjoy every last milestone.  I can watch in amazement as she learns to climb, to blow kisses, to talk.  I don't have all of that other stuff to distract me from the miracle that she is.  I find myself eagerly anticipating her next move in a way I did not with the other two because I AM thoroughly able to enjoy the present now.

I just don't want the fight of it is all.  I am still holding out hope that she will be like Alexis and wean herself (and transition herself to a big girl bed, and potty train herself....hey, a girl can dream right?)  However, unless in the next three weeks she drastically reduces her desire for a bottle, she is NOT on track for this.  I will have to do this the old-fashioned way, I guess.

Now, time to google what the old-fashioned way is.  Guess I am still thinking about it :p

Necklace

I have a necklace that I had made for Gabe (from www.belkaidesigns.com, the footprint necklace if you are interested).  I have worn it daily since the day that I got it.

Last week, I was at the office and it slipped off of the chain it was on.  I noticed it in my cleavage and re-attached it to my necklace, with the vague thought of having Charles take a pair of pliers and tighten the loop up when I got home.  Needless to say, when I took Charlie to her apppointment at the ENT (tubes it is!  I guess 5 ear infections in only 10 months of life raises a red flag...) I lost it again.

I had tried to call security at the hospital...nope.  No one had turned it in.  I had resigned myself to having to buy another one because I was sure that it had gotten run over by a car and crushed, when I got a voice mail from a stranger saying, "I think I have something that belongs to you".

I assumed that it was security, and I was STOKED.  I called, described the charm, and sure enough...it was it.  She asked how she could get it back to me, and I mentioned that I would be back at the hospital again soon.  She agreed to leave it with security.

Then she said, "I found that necklace, and you know, I never usually pick stuff up off the ground.  Something told me to grab this, though.  I am so glad I did...if it had been me I would have wanted it back.  I ended up googling the name, found the obit, then your blog...I am so very sorry for your loss."

I was speechless.  This woman (she did give me her name, but I don't have her permission to publish it so I am not going to...) went through all of that time and effort to return a trinket that was worthless to everyone else but me?  I was moved beyond words.  Her simple gesture of trying to return my necklace to me made my freaking year.

This woman unknowingly re-affirmed for me the basic goodness of human beings.  I see so much crap, so much awfulness, that one basic act of kindness reminds me of why I do what I do.  People ARE good.  People do care.

Thank you.