My children are healthy. My worries are few. My mother’s new pain medication is helping, and helping her achieve her ultimate goal of taking less medication. For her, for that, I am so thankful. My job is secure, and my business is going strong. Our bills are paid each month and we can afford the things that we need. I have friends. I have family. I have love.
It’s days like this that I believe strongly in God. It’s days like these that it’s so easy to have faith that it’s all going to be OK. It’s days like these, where I think everything would be completely perfect, the most perfect, if I could just snuggle my children on a blanket under the warm sunshine and take a long nap, my husband by my side.
.. and I don’t have anything else prepared to post about today, and I missed yesterday anyway, so I am going to call this a post and link you to it.
Originally built on the Productfolio theme, I converted it to Headway because I like a challenge. Except it wasn’t very challenging, because Headway rocks.
Today rocked. I mean seriously rocked. In the morning I got to sleep in (after being up with the baby for an hour from 5am to 6am & then waking hubby to switch out). I was in bed until 8:30am and that rocked hardcore.
The kids played all morning, inside & outside. I got some critical project work done and then it was naptime. Naptime yesterday didn’t happen. Hubby tried, and it just didn’t work out.. his reaction wasn’t right, her reaction wasn’t right.. it just didn’t work. I knew today would be tough so I took it, I’ve had more success adapting to her mood & switching up my naptime style than DaddyGeek does.
Everything was all good until the second potty trip, and then she started up with bouncing on the bed, giggling, and generally doing whatever she could to stay awake. I opted to talk to her about it rather than play “stern mommy”, and it actually worked. I told her that even if she didn’t want to nap, she needed one, she had to nap, and those were the rules. I can’t change the rules, babygirl. She finally settled down. She wasn’t happy about it. Then she conked, because DUH, she was tired even though she refused to admit it
So, for an hour while both kids slept, IT WAS BLISS. Got more critical project work done. Then we all packed up & headed to the park to enjoy the rest of the day. We played at the park, then got ice cream, then headed home and had movie night. Watched UP!, ate popcorn, ate pizza & mozarella sticks, and generally didn’t do *anything* until bedtime. That, also, was awesome.
These are the kinds of weekends I want to be having with my kids. Not a sequence of two stressed out, running around, errand-doing days. I want to make memories.
* Busy crazy day. Accomplished goal, mostly, of being more present with kids. Didn’t get as much work done as I’d like, but we had fun.
* I had a glass of wine in the evening, and it was nice.
* Also completed FEMA application, b/c my area is currently a disaster zone b/c of flooding rains, with my mom for her house. It was surprisingly uncomplicated.
Ever since I had kids, my bladder and I are NOT friends. It doesn’t matter how many fucking Kegels I do, it’s like my bladder control left the premises when I birthed Cupcake. Just up and walked out. What, you want examples? Well this blog has no purpose if not to sometimes embarrass me and subsequently amuse you, so here we go….
1. If I cough unexpectedly and my bladder is not empty, I will likely pee my pants a little bit. This happens everywhere; car, work, home, in bed, or even during sex. Yes. I know. FUCKING EW. I can’t help it.
2. I went walking around the building parking lot last Wednesday with my coworkers at lunch. I thought it was going to be a leisurely stroll, but I get out there and my CRAZY friend O whips out a pedometer, throws on some running shoes and says “10 laps, GO!” and starts speedwalking like the hounds of hell are at her heels. HOLY HELL. I made it one lap, but I had to pee, and I knew if I kept walking that fast I WOULD. I just couldn’t hold it in and exercise at the same time.
3. As I was driving home on Friday night from my design meeting with @workingmomfence (Kami), I had to pee. Badly. I had consumed most of an iced grande skinny vanilla latte (if I can’t exercise, at least I get them skinny… right?) and I hadn’t thought to pee before I jumped in the car. I stopped at ANOTHER Starbucks to get my husband a coffee and pee, but it was occupado when I got there. I was waiting outside the door, trying desperately not to pee myself or end up in the emergency room from a burst bladder, when the door opens. I turn in relief, prepared to rush inside, but I am confronted by the tallest man I have ever seen, wearing full on rollerblading gear. Rollerblades, helmet, knee & elbow pads, reflectors.. the whole nine yards. I was too shocked to laugh, thank God, or I definitely would have pissed myself, but instead I picked my jaw up off the floor and rushed into the bathroom. I almost didn’t make it.
4. I was in the bathroom a few months ago when the phone started to ring. I was peeing. My husband was at the ER with my sister at the time, so I assumed it was him. I panicked just managed to stop my pee stream in order to run to the phone. Unfortunately as I started to run (pants around my ankles, mind you) I couldn’t keep control and I peed. All over my legs. And my pants. YES. I AM ACTUALLY WRITING THIS ON MY BLOG FOR YOU TO READ. It was my husband calling to say he was on his way home, everything was fine. At that point, I didn’t bother to go back to the bathroom to pee and just jumped in the shower instead. *sigh*
And on that note, I think it’s best I stop, don’t you?
There’s something about being – or even just feeling - unique. It’s pretty amazing. Bounce-in-your-step, smile-on-your-face, buy-your-coworkers-coffee-for-no-reason amazing.
I’m back at Company L, where I worked previously for three years, making my from department to department as new opportunities opened up. I’m back, and with my shiny new title of Business Technology Administrator, I feel special. I’m on the Technology team (IT Department), a small group of three. Two other older (than me) dudes, and myself. Young chica.
A woman in a technology department is still relatively unique, and being 25 years old in this position feels especially fabulous.
But here’s the best part: I have power.
I have keys to all the doors. I have access to all the servers. I have the right to make business decisions about the way our company uses our CRM software, our WordPress installations, and anything else related to business & technology.
There’s just something about being the only girl in this department. The feeling is amplified if I dress up. I feel womanly and sexy and geekishly delicious.
If I were a Ninja Mom, I would never forget bags at the grocery checkout. Ninjas are very observant.
Ninja Moms never have to be Yelly Moms, because no one fucks with a Ninja.
A Ninja Mom always catches the baby when she tries to walk off the couch, because she started walking too early to have enough sense in her head that walking off the couch = OWIE.
If I were a Ninja Mom, my husband would never question my judgment. If he did question my judgment, it would be the last time he questioned anything.
A Ninja Mom is always slim and sexy, no post-baby-pooch and certainly no watching my carbs because it’ll go to my hips.
Ninja Moms never have to worry about getting fired, because Ninja Moms are always a minority. And highly litigious.
A Ninja Mom never gets caught up in Mommy Wars, because other Mommies would never dare brag in front of a Ninja.
Ninja Moms never stutter when trying to order a drink at Starbucks, because Ninjas speak many languages. Even Starbucksese.
A Ninja Mom would never worry about raising teenage girls, because she could stalk and kill any potential suitors.
Ninja Moms get great discounts everywhere. It’s even better than AAA.
I am a ninja. My piercing gaze strikes fear into your heart.
I believe that getting your bitch on is part of the human condition. That’s why I just couldn’t pass up this Girl Talk Thursday topic – Pet Peeves.
Here’s a short (ahem) list of mine:
Breathing Very Loudly: If you didn’t just participate in a foot race, I should not be able to hear you breathing from across the room. Stop it. Stop it now. I would rather see you passed out from lack of oxygen than hear you breathe like that even one. more. time.
Related: Breathing Very Loudly WHILE Eating: This is even worse than just Breathing Very Loudly. Unless you just hunted and killed your meal after nearly starving to death (without stopping to cook it, because that would have given you a chance to catch your damn breath), you need to stop. So unless you are Breathing Very Loudly While Eating With Blood Dripping Down Your Chin, it’s unacceptable.
Almost Putting Things Away: If you got up off your fat, lazy ass long enough to pick up your glass and walk it over to the kitchen, don’t you dare put that next to the sink on the counter. You either put it in the dishwasher, or IN the sink. If the sink is so full of dirty dishes that you cannot fit it into the sink, then guess what? IT’S TIME TO DO SOME FUCKING DISHES ASSWIPE.
Related: Almost Putting Away: groceries, toys, toiletries, laundry, papers to be filed, etc etc. {yes, I am totally guilty of most of this. And it pisses me off when I do it, I don’t need you doing it too, ok buddy?}
Yawning Without Covering Your Mouth: This is not your annual physical. I am not your doctor, nor your dentist, nor your prey. Cover your damn mouth when you yawn, I can see all the way to your tonsils and it’s just indecent!
Arguing About “Over” or “Under” re: Toilet Paper: Who the FUCK cares? Seriously? Is your life SO MUNDANE?! {not YOU, of course. I can understand why YOU care.}
Nicknames When You Don’t Know Me: Don’t nickname me. You don’t know me. And if you continue to call me whatever stupid nickname you’ve chose, you never will. Possibly because you’ll spend the rest of your days in a coma.
Wiggling Your Toes Within My Line of Vision While I Watch TV: Yes I know this one is a little insane. But if you are sitting on the couch next to me, and your legs are crossed such that your foot is next to me, please do not wiggle your toes. It’s all I can see and it’s driving me fucking batty.
Breathing On Me: When you breathe on me it makes my soul shrivel up into a tiny, wrinkly, crushed version of it’s former self, and that allows me to do horrible things to you. Don’t breathe on me.
Related: Breathing On Me While I Am Trying To Sleep: I cannot sleep if you are facing me and if I can feel your breath on my face. It will keep me awake. Please turn the other way, I like to lay facing this side.
Exemptions: Breathing On Me While I Am Trying To Sleep If I Gave Birth To You: You are adorable. Breathe where ever you want. But stop kicking me, you little fucker, or I’ll shove you off the bed.
Not Calling When You Said You Would: I understand, life gets in the way. But if I expect you to call and then you don’t, my mind goes bad places and I start to panic and consider calling hospitals and patrolling the dark alleys to find your rotting corpse. So call me when you say you will, OKAY?! ::crazy eyes::
Catty Behavior: Everyone hates high school for a reason. It sucked, everyone acted immature and petty, and you weren’t as cool as you wanted to be. Yes, I understand that the blogosphere brings up all those emotions that you repressed after you got to college because you wanted to be more adult. I don’t care. Repress them again, go to therapy, whatever. Just stop sniping at each other, ok? We’re all human, we all fuck up, we all have our own issues. We get attitudes, we make rude comments… Do Unto Others, y’all. Just be nice.
Touching My Eyebrows: Don’t touch my eyebrows. It’s a thing with me. And don’t touch YOUR eyebrows while I’m looking. That’s a thing with me, too.
——–
Runners up:judging my list of pet peeves, reading over my shoulder, not saying please and thank you, leaving your shopping cart in the middle of the grocery store which makes me wonder whether I can take it or whether you’ve left it there for a reason, leaving your shopping cart in the middle of the parking lot so I hit it when it’s dark and scratch my car, leaving your shopping cart in the parking lot in an open space which means that a) I can’t park there or b) I can’t pull through YOU WHORE, obvious twitter ads filling up my twitter stream all the time don’t you ever tweet ANYTHING else?, following me on twitter and then not accepting my follow back request because you are protected, MySpace just as a general rule, people who want to purchase something from me on Craigslist as a general rule, overuse of hashtags, using IM/Twitter speak in a real conversation (i.e. SAYING “lol”)
This post is exactly what you think it is. Brace yourselves.
Hubby is away until Thursday night. He’s in Florida until then. In fact ,as we speak, he is attending his Uncle Frank‘s funeral. Not what we expected to be doing this week… apparently he had high blood pressure. No one knew, he hadn’t been treated for it. Please, folks – go for a yearly checkup with your doctor. Meanwhile, I’m single parenting it until he gets back.. but not really. Uncle J (who is not really an uncle, but DaddyGeek’s best friend from childhood, who moved here last year and who is also Geeklet’s Godfather) has been a huge help. I mean, above and beyond. Seriously. He shoveled a space for my car at the apartment complex. Just for us. He helps with the kids, he helps get Geeklet to sleep and puts up with the incessant questioning and requests by Cupcake. He cleaned my kitchen. He cleared the snow off of our second car, which we aren’t even using this week, just so we didn’t have to do it later. He takes the trash out. He’s been awesome. Last night my mother did a whole judgy-thing about why he was there helping… apparently I’m not allowed to have help? I don’t know. Whatever – he’s been awesome, she can keep her opinion to herself. Things could have been far less awesome this week. For example, I could have had to deal with my massive head cold, the girls’ massive head colds, plus Cupcake’s puking on Sunday night 4 hours after DaddyGeek’s plane took off all by myself. But I didn’t. Mother can judge away, but the kids are doing better for J being around.
Work. Work work work. There is a lot of it and I am barely keeping my eyes open after the kids go to sleep, so projects have been moving more slowly than I’d like. Thankfully I punched out a lot of work last night and today, so I’m nearly back on track. I don’t see it letting up this month at all. Oh, PS — did you know January is ALMOST OVER?!
I got a new planner. It’s a GTD planner, and I love it, and it’s helping me be organized, and I love love love it. Seriously. Love. It. I’m usually a digital gal but I truly enjoy literally penciling something in. Or, penning it in. I hate pencils. It’s a texture thing.
I am behind on blog reading, and I feel sorely out of the loop. It’s making me cranky. I have over 350 unread posts that I can’t get to. Also, my fishes, farm, deserted island, restaurant, cafe, zoo and pet on Facebook are feeling neglected. (lol)
Taxes soon. I do taxes for my whole family (incl. brother, mother, sister, us) and I am not looking forward to all. those. fucking. numbers. I hate numbers. Speaking of taxes, next years taxes are going to be all sorts of borked. Also I have to start setting aside money for estimated tax payments. Not fun, y’all!
I have about 4 posts planned in my head about songs that are meaningful to me, but I never get around to writing them.. I really should, because they are cluttering things up. Do you care about songs?
I’m pissed at Mother Nature for starting 2010 off with the Haiti Earthquake. I’m pissed there isn’t more I can do.
I finally decided I really do need to stop eating such disgusting food and do something about my weight, and my health, and my general fitness. I ate four donuts yesterday morning. FOUR. And another today, even though it was stale. Not good. So for lunch I had a Lean Pocket. It was hardly satisfying.. though could have been worse. I wanted to eat two. I ate one. Now if I can just keep that up, I can lose the baby weight, which is no longer baby weight, and is actually pastry weight, but saying pastry weight doesn’t sound as legit so baby weight it is.
Speaking of babies, I don’t have any anymore. I have two toddlers. Geeklet is 14mos now and is walking and running and climbing and doing things she shouldn’t do, and saying things like “ceiling” and “nana” and “daddy” and “yes” and she thinks it is funny, oh so funny, when you shake your head yes or no at her. She also loves: spinning, trying to eat lightbulbs, the TV clicker, anything that is electronic that she isn’t allowed to have, mashing the keyboard. Cupcake is 3.5 and is amazing. She’s getting ready to be rid of her bedtime bottle (no judging you whore) and we are so close to really getting somewhere with this potty training (again with the lack of judging!) and bedtimes have been better on a whole. She is saying adorable things, and her favorite joke right now is to substitute the word “underwear” anywhere in a sentence unexpectedly to make you laugh. She also loves jumping around, playing tag with herself, saying grown-up things like “You can say that again!” and “Oh brother!” and she knows how to work the DVD player. She also DM’d @chibijeebs for me the other day, which was oh so sweet of her. (lol)
Since I can’t get over to your blogs/twitter/whatever why don’t you tell me in the comments what’s up with you?
This post is exactly what you think it is. Brace yourselves.
Just ... no. {Wardrobe malfunction}
Excess
