Woman to Woman Encouragement

Woman to Woman Encouragement

Someone will always be smarter. Their house will be bigger. They will drive a better car. Their children will do better in school. And their partners will fix more things around the house. So let it go and love you and your circumstances. Think about it. The prettiest woman in the world can have hell in her heart. And the most highly favored woman on your job may be unable to have children. The richest woman you know - she's got the car, the house, the clothes - might be heartbreakingly lonely. So, love you. Love who you are right now. Tell yourself, "I am too blessed to be stressed." Be blessed ladies and pass this on to encourage another woman. "To the world you might be one person, but to one person you just might be the world."

A friend of mine sent this to me via e-mail this morning, and I love it so much I had to put it here so more women can read it. I don't know if you can, but copy and paste it if you want, and send it to the women in your lives. They are wonderful words. Happy Friday everyone!

Wondering if I should be worried...***UPDATED***

Boss just called. When he says my name, it sounds like a father calling his daughter.
"Have you eaten?"
"No..."
"Well, good, we're on our way to the office, we're taking you to lunch."
Hangs up. I have no idea who "we" is, but is lunch with your boss a good thing? He's never offered to take me to lunch, just has brought stuff back for me...

Friday 3/31/06-Phew! I didn't have to worry... he was taking three possible new agents out to lunch, they were all female. So either, he wanted them to feel comfortable with an employee there, or he really wanted to look like a pimp at the restaurant. They talked about real estate, numbers for our office in comparison to their current offices, I sat there and smiled. (I don't talk real estate, I don't want to look stupid. I'm just learning all this now...) So that was it. And he was complimenting me on my "sharpness" to them, which they seemed to like. He told them "She's so good at getting things done." Well, what else are you paying me for? So we may finally be getting some females in my office, and they seem very nice. So that was it. No biggie. Next time he asks me to lunch I won't be so nervous. (I'm insecure, sorry.) Oh- and can I say that that place had THE BEST chicken caesar wrap EVER? I think I found my new lunch place...and it's not too expensive. (My boss has expensive taste, I will admit I was looking more at the price of the food than anything.)

7 songs

Supermom over at Snow White has tagged me again. (I heart Supermom) This time-it's seven songs I'm into right now. Girl, do you know you are making me reveal WAAAAAAY too much with that? Now everyone will know how much I love reggaeton...and Marvin Gaye...
Well, here goes-

1. Mayor Que Yo-by a bunch of people. (there is a new remix like every week.)
2. Let's Get It On-Marvin Gaye (I hear it everyday at work, and I have to stop working to sing along. Thank goodness I'm usually alone)
3. Elmo's Song-Elmo (because my son randomly calls out "lala" and wants to hear the song, so I don't have a choice but to be into it.)
4. Racata-Wisin & Yandel (more spanish reggae-I really like to dance, this music gets me going)
5. More Than a Woman-by Aaliyah. (I just love that song and I found it on my media player.)
6. Smooth- by Matchbox 20 (Rob Thomas' voice is sooooo sexy. And this song is a great collabo with Carlos Santana.)
7. Really anythng I can dance to or sing along with. I love music. I love old school, new school, classics...

I'm supposed to tag seven people, but I don't think seven people read this blog. So I'm passing the torch to anyone. (Melissa, Latteman, sweatpants mom, and any other random commenter if you'd like to participate, DO IT!)

What are the chances...?

I have three weddings to attend this year. One is my cousin's in July. The other two, one for an old friend of mine, and another for an agent here at my job ARE ON THE SAME DAY. The good news is that I only have to buy one dress for those two weddings, the bad news is I don't know how the hell I'm going to pull it off being at both weddings. One ceremony is at three the other at four. Easy, I can at least do that, but the receptions? Cripes! I have RSVP'd to both, I can't not go to one or the other, I've known my friend for some time now and she went away for college in Delaware so we haven't seen eachother in a few years. The agent at my job is one of the few people I actually like here...
If anyone has any suggestions, they will be welcome here. I need to figure this out. Again, not going to one is NOT an option...
Oh yeah, I should mention one of the receptions is just over the state line about a half hour away...
Oy vey........

Preparation

My mother signed Little Man up for the weekly reading session at the library near my house. These sessions are held on Wednesdays, so Little Man can go with my sister since she takes him Wednesdays. The session is for children ages 1-3, and it hopes to prepare the kids for the concept of school. (or pre-school in this age groups case.) So the only requirement the kids have is to bring a book-bag with a toy and their sippy/bottle.(I hope hope HOPE there are no three year olds with BOTTLES!) The volunteer reads to them for an hour and they go home. Sounds nice. I hate that I can't go with him, I would love to see if he sits through an hour of a stranger reading to him, when he's home he sits in my lap with a book and gets up after about ten minutes. Maybe that's why they're having the kids bring a toy...


Weird. They must have read this, I just received this in my e-mail. They usually send me stuff about the development of toddlers. They're pretty good, I been reading their stuff since I was three months pregnant, very useful info regarding your body and children.

A kiss from Little Man...

He's feeling so much better. No puking for two days. Last night he actually had food other than soup. (At the babysitter's he had fruit and boiled plaintains.) I gave him some plain mashed potatoes (no butter no salt just mushed up potatoes) and he took some corn off my plate. Poop report- he gave me some (not too) solid "nuggets" this morning. I think he's normal again. Still watching.

This picture was taken last night while I was still at the babysitter's, I was on the phone with my sister and I asked him if he wanted to talk to her and he started blowing her kisses. Then he took the phone from me and was talking to her- he said "Titi" very clearly to her and I could hear her screaming with happiness. Then he started telling her "car" and "juice" and some babble. And when she was saying bye he waved and blew more kisses.

Do you...?

I spoke to my mother a couple hours ago. Or rather she called me here at work to ask about Little Man. "He's alright mom." "Is he still throwing up?" "Not as far as I know mother." "Well, haven't you called to check on him?"
Now, Im going to stop it there, because we get into me offering to give her the babysitter's number if SHE would like to call... it's not pretty. (I'm a little stressed...)
Anyway- this morning when I dropped my Little Man off I had told the babysitter that she could call me at work at any time, and I would leave if he got sick again. She told me not to worry, that she would call me if anything happened. No phone call from her=everything is fine. So I didn't want to bombard her with hourly phone calls while she was busy caring for my child. I convinced myself that I would call once during "lunch" just to check in. (Of course, my mother called before that.)
So my question is- do you call your child's caregiver to check on your child? Granted, you all would stay with your children if they were sick and I'm the world's worst mother for coming to work today...
Still, when he's not feeling well, I call. Any other day, i don't. I trust that she will call me if she needed to tell me something. And the kid's always in one piece with all his fingers and toes when I pick him up everyday. No bruises, no cuts... But the point is...that I'm probably not making much sense. I worry. I don't want to interrupt my babysitter's flow with my son...

We just filmed a movie at my house (not for the squeamish)

It was the newest installment of The Exorcist. I should have called upon you internets to be extras, but I wouldn't have been able to pay you, so you would have smelled like puke for nothing.
Friday as I'm waiting for Daddy to get out of work I stop at my mother's house (who wasn't there-this is important) to feed Little Man. I was close to her house and he was getting fussy. She didn't cook that morning (as is the norm for her) so I gave him a jar of baby food. Gerber chicken and broccolli, also important, along with some cheese by his request. Twenty minutes later we are standing in front of the fridge, I'm pouring him a sippy of milk, he burps and out came nice green puke, all over him, all over the kitchen floor. This boy has never thrown up-outside of spitting up as a baby- I see he is gagging again, so I lean him forward as best I could so he could get it on the floor (gotta clean it anyway, right?) and he proceeds to puke up everything and anything he had in his belly all day. I'm not good with puke, but somehow I didn't lose it. No cell phone, Daddy has it with him, my mother turned off her house phone since she got her cell...WHO THE FUCK AM I GOING TO CALL??? I strip the boy and head for the tub. I'm freaking out on the inside (gotta stay cool on the outside so the boy doesn't freak, right?) my hands were shaking I don't know what to do...I don't know what to do and I'm mentally running through a list in my head of how to get him out of the tub, getting more clothes on him, cleaning the kitchen floor, and getting to Daddy's job so we can head for the hospital. I don't know what to do I don't know what to do... the boy is calmly playing in the tub, he doesn't even look like he realizes what happened. God, what is wrong? was it the food? is he still sick? I don't know what to do... WHY DON'T I HAVE THE FUCKING PHONE WITH ME??????? Somehow I get him dressed and he stays in the play pen while I scrub my mother's floor. I pack him up and head to Daddy's job, the boy falls asleep while I'm on the highway and I start to cry. I'm so bad at this, I can't even do this right...at least he's sleeping, but I need to get him re-hydrated, how long does it take for kids to dehydrate? why is this idiot in front of me doing 40 on the goddamn highway?? how long will we be in the ER? GET OUT OF MY WAY MY BABY IS SICK!!! I don't know what to do, I don't know what to do... Daddy has already punched out when I get to his job, he is so calm when I tell him what happened. I'm still trying to maintain my composure. Why are you so calm? Don't you care? A call to the doctor: "Does he have a fever?" "No." "Diarrhea?" "A little, but I was told it would be a side effect of the antibiotic for his ear infection." "Give him some pedialyte and see how the night goes." What? WHAT? You don't want me to bring him in? The boy sleeps all night. Pedialyte in the morning, while he is drinking it he pauses to puke on me and the bed. Oh my god there is something wrong with him why is he throwing up so much??? Another call to the doctor: "Still no fever?" "NO. He threw up the pedialyte." "Okay, don't give him anything for an hour, let his stomach settle then give him a teaspoon of pedialyte every five minutes." A teaspoon every five minutes? He's already asking for food, it's eight in the morning my boy is hungry! So a teaspoon it is. I'm still holding strong on the outside, but my hands are shaking like I have Parkinson's. The boy falls asleep after twenty minutes. When he wakes up, I say Fuck the Pedialyte every five minutes bullshit and make him some soup. He eats it fine, drinks water. I let out the breath I'd been holding since the night before. Daddy goes to work. I head to the Daddy's cousin's house to wash my sheets and all the towels the boy threw up on. (His mother is my son's babysitter.) So we are there, the boy is nibbling on unsalted Saltines. (Shouldn't they be called Unsaltines?) The babysitter says she'll keep the boy while I pick up Daddy from work. While I'm on the road she calls and says he threw up three times. She gave him ginger ale thinking it would settle his stomach. (I think it made it worse because of the sugar) I want to hit my head against the steering wheel. I want to snap my fingers and blink my eyes like the Genie and make it go away. I don't even bother calling the doctor, he was asleep by the time I got back from picking Daddy up. So back home we go, back to square one tomorrow.
Now it's Sunday, the boy is starving when he gets up. Refusing the water, refusing the pedialyte, I make him soup. He loves it. Watches Finding Nemo, watches Ice Age, goes to sleep. He is still wetting diapers, but if he poops I know it'll be over soon. When he wakes up , more soup for him, more water, and we head out to run errands. There is a towel covering him in the car seat just in case. The boy is farting some rotten egg farts, stinking up the car. He finally poops. He is getting tired of the soup and water, he throws the sippy at me every time I offer it, but eats the soup. In bed early, still no puke as of this morning. We'll see how the day goes. I felt totally helpless all weekend, why are there no classes for these situations? They hand out brochures on breastfeeding, labor and such things, but they don't prepare you for these moments. I feel like shit even being here at work, and he's at the babysitter's without me. I will feel even more like shit if he gets sick again, and I'm telling anyone who will listen, I'M NOT CALLING THE GODDAMN DOCTOR AGAIN. MY ASS IS WALKING RIGHT INTO THE OFFICE.

LMAO

• Silly Old Bear over at Hey, You! posted this. It's hilarious! His mother sent it to him, she gets lots of cool points for this one. He usually brings a smile to my face, he's great.
• Please, please, PLEASE make sure your bladder is empty when you watch this video, because if it's not, you WILL piss your pants. (Not that I did, I'm just saying...)

Holy Shit.

I just read this story on Cecily's blog, I'm still crying. It's just sad.

Why do I bother trying to help people?

I took my mother to the supermarket last night and as she went to get a few things, she asked me to get ham and cheese from the deli. Off she went in a scurry with my son in the carraige to load the cart in record time. (She knows I hate the market. I'm usually out in less than 20 minutes.) So I notice that the deli only had about two people standing there, I looked at the LED number thingie and it read 38. So I was about to grab a number but I noticed as I was pulling it out, the number on the paper said 59. Logic tells me they aren't using the numbers right now, since the market was dead. The lady asks if she can help me, no number called out. I place my order and this guy walks up to the number dispenser. "I don't think they're using numbers right now, " I say to him. He gives me the strangest look like how dare she speak to me yanks the number off the dispenser and walks away. Now I know he felt like an ass when he realized what number he had in his hand compared to the one on the LED screen, but I was just trying to help. Asswipe. So I got my ham and cheese and wished him luck as he waited for the LED screen to say "60".

Take this test

and see how you score! "what a woman says vs. what she really means"

Cloud of Doom, I should be able to write you off on my taxes!

Well, everything was fine. The lawyer called, I can officially pick my check up anytime today. So I took my well-deserved lunch hour that I never take and Daddy and I headed to the lawyer's office. (He called his job to tell them he would be a little late, they knew we were going to get some money!) No problems there, the check was in my hand before I could blink. So let's go to the bank! We are kinda broke right now, so I decided that I would have the bank give me a couple hundred so i could go grocery shopping for our empty cobweb-ridden cabinets. (They don't really have cobwebs, i did clean the house, it's an emphasis on how empty they are.)
So I get to the bank, and walk up to the teller...
dun dun dunnnn
I lost my fucking license.
I never use the thing, it's always in my little zippered pocket in my purse. (My wallet had gotten stolen months ago I have yet to buy a new one because, well we're broke and my son's diapers and milk are waaaaayyyy more important than a fucking wallet. But today, my license IS. NOT. THERE!!! So blah blah blah I basically would have to deposit the whole thing and wait three days for it to clear (since it's such a "big" check and my bank thinks I might have stolen it from somewhere.)((yeah, yeah, I know the bank policies, but do they understand that me and Daddy are hungry???))
So there's where the Cloud of Doom snuck in.
So now I'm waiting for my sister to see if she can cash it for me and I just deposit what I don't need. If not, it's going in the bank tomorrow, and I'll at least be able to cash my paycheck because my buddy at my bank knows me and will do that for me because he understands how hungry we are. Oh, and Daddy gets his first paycheck Friday. So maybe we won't go hungry again for a while. And hopefully I can still go car shopping this weekend, I think i found a car I REALLY REALLY like, but it's in Jersey City. Hmmm. A possible car trip for a car might be in order. And maybe I'll start writing posts that actually make a little bit of sense. Maybe.

Night-time blogging...

Okay so I came back to Daddy's cousin's house to do another load of laundry...and he had to take his girlfriend to the market so I'm here invading his computer. (Little Man is sleeping next to me, the boy was worn out.He's still not taking his usual second nap.) Tomorrow this post may not even be here, since the last time I blogged from another computer the stupid post disappeared...
Anyhoo.
I've got nothing.
I really just wanted to blog at night. Daddy and I are buying a corner desk for our computer at home so I can finally connect from home. Then maybe I can break my blogging habit at work and focus on looking at houses all day.
Well, off to see what everyone is up to. Good night all.

Sometimes I feel pretty good about this Mommy thing...

I haven't mentioned this because I'm still pretty pissed about it. We moved into the small apartment. Blech. So whatever, we have about sixteen mountains of laundry to do, and my washer and dryer have yet to be delivered, so Daddy's cousin said I can go over there to wash a couple of loads. I only took enough clothes to do two loads, but before I did that I dropped Little Man off at my mother's house. She hasn't had him over in a while, so I figure I would have her watch him while I took care of the laundry. He fell asleep about fifteen minutes before I picked him up, so I put his coat and hat on and brought him home without him as much as stirring. I laid him down (on my damn bed because i have to put his crib together) and took everything off (he already had pj's on) and still, no waking up. This morning i get up and start my morning, the kid is still sleeping. While I was dressing, he rolled over and then sat up, looked at me and Daddy, and waved while giving us the biggest smile... I loved it. I guess he thought he was still going to be at Grandma's, but the look in his eyes when he saw us...well, it made up for the head butt he gave me the other day that left me with a headache.

In the news today

This is some scary shit. I once participated in a study, but all they did was take a vile of blood. They paid me fifty bucks. But that story...whoa.

I didn't know people were still stupid enough to play this game. Why would you?

Thank goodness at least these kids are being saved from monsters.

The light is red for a reason

Lady in the Corolla: Thank your lucky stars and whatever God you pray to that the F150 has good brakes. Since you were in such a rush to get through the intersection, and ignored the yellow light turning red, you almost got smashed into the next block. Thank that same God that the guy in the F150 didn't get out of the truck just to make you look at the red light and describe its purpose to you, as I would have done. Smart move reversing back into the safe zone so that no other car would hit you. Smart move not trying to yell at the F150 guy for YOUR stupidity. Next time you'll probably stop on yellow, or at least slow the fuck down so you can see if cars are coming from somewhere.
I hate and love having huge floor to ceiling windows in my office.

okay, I don't know why but the text size won't go back down. Screw it. She needed to get yelled at.

Mental Explosion in 3....2....

Phone conversation I just had with the adminstrator at the other office. (Not the dumb bitch who never brings my paycheck, the other one.)

Her: Hey they sent me the wrong toner for the printer and I need one ASAP.
Me: Okay, so call WB Mason and order another one.
Her: But I don't know the number and I don't know what toner I need.
(Here is where I want to smash my head against my desk. Such a simple job! Their phone number is their name!!!!!! The toner has a number on it so you can order a new one!!!)
Me: You need to go to the back of the office, open up the printer and look at the numbers you see right on the toner cartridge. Write those numbers down, call 1-888-WB-MASON, and tell them that's the toner you need. Today. Right now.
Her: That's all I have to do?
Me: Yes. Here's the account number...blahblahblah...ask them if they can deliver it today.

This girl has been working in that office since about the time I was pregnant with my son, and not even thinking about working here, and she can't make an order from WB Mason??? (Whom I LOVE, because they are very good at making sure we get our shit the next day, no matter what a pain in the ass the Head Admin, is.) She can't even compare the prices of other office stores for certain things so we can get a better deal. Come on!!!!! I would have ordered the toner, but I'm not at the other office to see the toner number (she probably can't even find the number).

I just don't get it.

Updated five minutes later to add...the Head Admin. just came to this office because she. was. bored. But she can't bring her ass here on Thursdays to drop my paycheck off. Or pick up the phone and help the other admin order some fucking toner??? I should polish up my resume...

Let's go car shopping!!!

My morning started off shitty, (do you see what time it is I'm writing this and already it was shitty...) had an argument with Daddy because I needed the car today to run some errands and he doesn't get out of work until eight. So we had a screamfest and I told him to shove (my) car up his ass I'll walk to the babysitter's and pick up the baby. I hate that car, that's why I am not going to fight over it. We had traded our wagon for it, because the wagon was going to hell (transmission and other bullshit) and this car was crappy but it ran and it would get me to work. Why I hate a running car: it's a two door. Anyone with kids KNOWS how that goes. Especially with kids in car seats. The door handle on the driver's side is missing (GHETTO-how the hell does someone lose that? really...) so I have to basically break OUT of my car, using a screw-driver to open the door from the inside. It's needs to be inspected, so I'm a time-bomb waiting to be stopped by the cops.
Daddy calls me a half-hour after he drops me off at work. "Somebody must really love you" he says. "Why." I say coldly. I don't want to talk to him. "The lawyer just called. Your money is ready."
Now let me stop to say that I have never mentioned this for fear that the Cloud of Doom would take over my case and I would never get anything out of it. Daddy and I, when we were dating, were out for a drive one day. We were at a red light and when the light turned green-we went. And so did the guy in a truck coming from our left (who had a red light). He smashed into us, dragged the car for a few feet and then decided to leave the scene. He was caught by the police a short time later, turns out he was drunk. (It was like 3 in the afternoon). So he spent the night in jail, and we spent the next 9 months going to chiropracter appointments. Not a secret we were suing, my car was totaled, I had to be out of work for a while. Thing is, his insurance company refused to pay us saying we didn't have proof it was him. WRONG! I had many many witnesses. So fast forward 4 years to today, and my lawyer has our checks.
So now I'm going car shopping! And now I can get a car that I like, that has four doors, and a door handle, and I won't have to figure out how I'm getting home from work!!! And I don't have to call anybody for a ride! And now my Friday became so much fucking better I could scream because all the frustrations I've had clouding my head all month-YEAR!- will be taken care of. My debt (some of it anyway), necesities for my son... It's not even a big check, but it's going to help. And it will make me feel better about having to worry where I'm going to get the money to buy groceries for us, and get gas for the car(S!), and get medicine for my son...
Today is a good day. Cloud of Doom- Let me enjoy it please!!!!
I hope everyone is having a great day. I really do. And it's Friday, and I might not do freebies like her, I will still provide some time wasters! (After I search for cars for a few minutes...)
And you should stop by and get some freebies from her, she has some good shit...I will say I have already ordered a few things, still waiting for them to come in so I can send her a shout-out.

Okay, so Christmas has been over for MONTHS but...

I couldn't help but share this with you. One of my co-workers sent it to me and I thought it was hilarious!

I just started browsing that site, and I'm finding some funny stuff. I should be working...sorry if the letters are a little smudgy, I tried my best to get it to be legible.

He didn't cough ONCE in the doctor's office!!!!!

I was up pretty much the whole night listening to my son cough in his sleep. He didn't wake up, he would just cough. He sounded like an 80 year old with a 60 year old smoking habit. So off to the doctor this morning instead of work. His primary is on vacation but we got to see the female doctor that shares his office. Questions were asked and answered: How long has he been coughing? Two and a half days. Any fevers? Yes on Saturday and Sunday, he was given Motrin and watched and they went down within half an hour. Runny nose? Vomiting? Diarrhea? No, No, No. He is sticking his finger in his ear though, so I think maybe the ear infection hasn't gone away...
In comes the nurse with an oxygen thingie (check his oxygen levels) 100% YAY! But what about the cough? Checking heart rate, checks ears, checks throat. Cultures his ears and throat, my son is SCREAMING. (but still not coughing.) So we have another ear infection, this time just in one ear (last month it was a double) and as for the cough (what cough?) "just give him lots of water to thin out the phlegm and hopefully it will make its way out." Back in two weeks for another check on the ears. Isn't this season FUN???

Ghost Story Tuesday.

This blog does this weekly. I had (some time ago) said to her that I would participate, but put it on the back burner for reasons unknown. Probably because I'm too caught up in myself. Probably because I wanted so badly to forget the shit I went through in that house we lived in for so long. With Larry's death, I have begun to think about ghosts. I believe in them. I think some people get "stuck" here. I've always wondered what the reasons were...
Anyway, my family and I moved into this really nice two level house in the heart of the city and lived there for about ten years. Great house, lots of room, private yard, and ghosts. When we first moved in, we didn't hear anything. But our cat would go crazy, he would stare at the ceiling without blinking (he had never done that before) and he would hiss at the stairs. Sometimes he would be sound asleep and suddenly come bolting down the stairs and just hide behind one of us, tail shaking violently, ears pulled back. Then we started hearing/feeling footsteps. One of us (me, my mother or my sister) would be downstairs (home alone) and the ceiling would creak the way it would if someone were walking upstairs. We started noticing that when the creaking was going on, the cat was staring at the ceiling. Hmmm. Lights would turn on and off by themselves. We would hear knocking on the front door when there was no one there. A few times my mother would come into my room wondering what I wanted. "What are you talking about, Mom?" "You were just calling me..." "Um, no I wasn't..."
There was one incident where we had family over for a weekend, and my uncle swears someone hit him while he was taking a nap, but we had all been in the family room watching a movie.
And the ultimate, which was something that I just came to discover only happened to me. At night I would hear people whispering. I thought I was dreaming. I would open my eyes and there would be people, sometimes one person other times a group, standing in my room. At times they were looking right at me, other times they would be crouching in the corner trying to "hide" from me. There was one that actually took a throw blanket I had and tried to hide behind it, and when I woke up the next morning I saw the blanket unfolded and just thrown on the floor. Still thinking I was dreaming, I questioned myself. Was I really seeing this? Why was I seeing this? I don't remember if I tried talking to these "people", since we moved away form that house I buried these memories deep deeeeeep in my brain, hoping to never think of them again. I do remember once telling my mother "There was someone in my room last night," and I tried explaining it to her and she got this look in her eyes and just said "Pray before you go to sleep." Thanks Mom, but I don't think a prayer will keep them away. I tried moving my room around so that the bed was pushed up against the wall and I would sleep with my back to the rest of the room, but that didn't stop it.
I was recently sharing this with Daddy, and there were other incidents that came up between us that I will save for other ghost story Tuesdays, because that's just what I think they are.
So, Tree, here is my Ghost Story for today.
Now, the reason I wrote this is because I can't help but think that Larry is stuck now. And how the apartment across the hall from my mother will never be the same. Maybe the people who move there next will hear whispers and see people... I think I would freak the new people out if I just went up to them and asked them if they hear stuff so if there will be new tenants I'll leave them alone. But if they ask my mother anything, I can't promise silence.....
A question for the readers, (yeah, both of you!) Do you believe in ghosts?

RIP Larry

My mother lives in one of those "Garden Style Condominium Apartments" (that's what's on the sign out front). It's a really nice place, has a nice pool that nobody really uses, people aren't outside making all types of noise. She had a neighbor across the hall named Larry. He was a really nice guy, I talked to him a few times. (He moved in after I moved out so I didn't see him much.) He would help my mother with her groceries, he would take her garbage out. He and his girlfriend were always very friendly. My mother would sometimes cook a little extra and send food to them. When I went to my mother's house sometime last week, I think it was Thursday, she told me she hadn't seen Larry in a few days. She said she had heard rumors of someone passing away in the last few days,and we both said we hoped it wasn't Larry, he was so young. (mid to late thirties...) On Saturday my mother called me and said she had something to tell me. It was Larry, he was dead. Here is what happened:
Early last week about 1:30 in the afternoon Larry called the property management office (which is about a two or three minute walk from where his apartment is. He said these simple words "I don't feel well. Something is wrong." And he hung up. The property management got concerned, they sent someone to his apartment. No answer when they rang the buzzer. No answer when they knocked on the door. They forced the door open. And they found him. Dead. Self-inflicted gunshot wound.
My mother went shopping Saturday morning, and when she got home she noticed boxes of Larry's stuff out in the hall. "Larry, are you leaving me?" she called out. A man that wasn't Larry poked his head out into the hall. "You knew Larry?" he asked her. "Yeah, of course..." He introduced himself as Larry's brother and told her what happened. That's when she called me.
That is some scary shit, we knew this guy, he was so nice and friendly and I can't stop thinking about this. What could have been wrong? What could have been done? Did he even tell anyone the reason? We don't know of any note being left. I'm saddened that he couldn't find someone to help him. I've never known anyone that has passed away (save for my grandparents who all passed by the time I was five) and for this to happen...
I didn't know him, but we exchanged hello's. He knew I was my mother's daughter. He commented on how cute my son was. I appreciated all the things he and his girlfriend helped my mother with.
So, Larry, I'm sorry that you felt the way you did, though I don't know how that was. I'm sorry you felt that was the only way out. I do hope you are in a better place now. RIP Larry.

For your enjoyment- some time wasters!

• Funny joke- got it at this site. A man called home to his wife and said, "Honey I have been asked to go fishing up in Canada with my boss & several of his friends. We'll be gone for a week. This is a good opportunity for me to get that promotion I've been wanting, so could you please pack enough clothes for a week and set out my rod and fishing box? We're leaving from the office & I will swing by the house to pick my things up" "Oh! Please pack my new blue silk pajamas." The wife thinks this sounds a bit fishy but being the good wife she is, did exactly what her husband asked. The following weekend he came home a little tired but otherwise looking good. The wife welcomed him home and asked if he caught many fish? He said, "Yes! Lots of Salmon, some Bluegill, and a few Swordfish .But why didn't you pack my new blue silk pajamas like I asked you to do?"
  The wife replied, "I did. They're in your fishing box."
• Latteman, think you can make this cake for your wife? (I know you said she quit the soda...but...I'm sure she wouldn't mind. (It really is a cake...)

• This game is slightly entertaining...a time waster indeed...

AAAAAUUUUGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

Can you believe, it's not even 9:30, and this asshole just brought me the letter I changed 16 times for him on Monday and said "I have a few more changes".
I'm going to pull my hair out!

***Edited at 2 PM- we are going on letter revision #18 right now!

I'm dancing right now

Okay, not really dancing, but I AM playing music that's not that soft rock bullshit I have to listen to every day. Don't get me wrong, I love the songs they play here on the "at-work radio station", but listening to it every day for eight hours is too much. So the mortgage guy who rents a desk here brought me some speakers he wasn't using. I came to work early so Daddy can make it to his second interview on time. And I'm playing my own music. I'll have to shut it off as soon as nine hits the clock, but I don't care. Just wanted to share that. Cause I don't have anything to write about right now.
It's Friday, I'll see if I find some nice time-wasters for you. It's a shitty day here so I'm hoping nobody comes into the office so I can actually find some time-wasters worth your time.

SIL's baby shower is tomorrow, maybe I'll get a nice enough photo of me and possibly post it. Maybe. Probably. Ehhh. What pisses me off is that everyone is acting like it's a fucking prom and buying new clothes(like formal clothes) to wear. I have no money for new clothes. I'm going to be wearing black pants and a nice (to me) shirt. Basically I'm looking like I'm going to work. I don't care. It's just a baby shower! I would expect people to be there in jeans (dressy jeans at least) and be comfortable...but I guess that's just me.

BOW DOWN TO THE COOKIE KING

Internet- would you possibly believe I have FINALLY received my cookies!?!?!?
They have arrived today, my dear mailman made a special morning delivery to my office, (he usually comes about 2pm) and when I saw he had a small box I broke into a smile. I knew those were my cookies. I called Daddy*** to tell him we got some cookies and he said he would make sure we had milk in the house for when I got home. My response: "Who said there were going to be any left when I got home???"
So besides the fact that I was promised them since January- I will forgive my friend since I know the cosmos are assholes and he had shit going on in his life that prevented him from slaving in the kitchen just to send me cookies.
I had one, I had to fight the box open, but I had one and they are great!!!
So- THANK YOU LATTEMAN FOR MY COOKIES.

***Daddy is no longer unemployed. I will not get into details for fear that the Cloud of Doom may hear me, but I did want to share that detail. And still- so far, no fighting.

Don't lie to me little girl!

I read this news story on Crystal's page, and I started to leave a comment but realized I was about to monopolize her whole page if I kept up. So I decided I would bring the news story here and rant about it.
These little fucking girls piss me off when they come out and say "I didn't know I was pregnant!" Stop trying to make yourself look so innocent, you had sex! The baby was a normal healthy (thank God) 6 lbs. meaning she had to have gained at least thirty or more pounds- didn't the protruding tummy give you a fucking clue??? I can't say anything about her missing period, since I don't know if she had one before this to begin with, (my sister-don't tell her I'm telling you this- didn't get her period till she was 13) but there are still clues! Didn't her mother educate her? Didn't her school show the sex tapes? (We were put in the library to watch them in the fourth grade-9 YEARS OLD PEOPLE!!!) I just don't get it.

16 months ago...

well, at this time I was still in labor. For seven more hours.
But looking at my dear son today as I lazily sat on the bed, not wanting to get dressed for work, I was amazed at the growing he has been doing. This boy has been walking since he was nine months old, and yet still trips over his own two feet. (I laugh at him every time.) He speaks words that will usually let you know what he wants. (uh-oh i feel a list coming on) He knows when we've arrived at Grandma's or my sister's house. Every morning as I pull into his babysitter's driveway he starts to wave. (either bye-bye to me or hello to her, I'm still not sure which one.) Last night as he slept on my chest as I watched The Transporter (sexy man that Transporter guy, I forgot his name already.) I remembered watching him sleep when he came home from the hospital. I was afraid that if I took my eyes off him, he'd stop breathing. Now, he can get his own sippy off the table. He can (almost) pull his own pants up. He can go get something when I ask for it. He gives kisses on command. He does a mean scribble picture, because he loves my Princess Niece's crayons. He can work the remote control. (shuts the tv off if he doesn't like a show, turns it back on because he wants to.) These are just random things, he does so much more. but i will do a list of words he speaks, just for fun.

• Please
• Ma
• Pa (new one for Daddy)
• Mima (grandma's nickname)
• Ti! (for his aunties)
• Go
• No
• Pa-pow (for when he's about to get in trouble, he says it when he knows he's doing something wrong)
• kaka (getting him to say it when he DOES it)
• CAR! (his favorite)
• pee-pee (see kaka)
• Bo-bo (his pacifier)
• His dad's name
• Lala (for Elmo)

There are many others that I am forgetting, but you can see he is very verbal. He spends most days going on and on in baby jibber jabber, and I try to sneak words in for him to repeat. I've noticed he favors certain letters which are probably easier for him to pronounce. Another thing I've noticed is he favors his left hand. Both my parents are Lefty's, as am I, and I laugh at Daddy when I see the boy coloring with his left hand. (It was a competition, just like whether he would say Ma or Daddy first. Daddy got that one, I get the hand!)

Well, my boy is growing up at an amazing rate. My heart already aches because I know I can't stop it and take more time with him. How i wish I could be home with him everyday. How I wish our circumstances were different so that I could be more of a part of his growing.

Mommy loves you, Little Man. I'm working for a better life for you.

It's only Monday...and already I want to kill someone here!

This is going to have a bulleted list because there are a few issues I would like to address. These points are things I wish I could list and post in my office or leave on the messaging system on our office phone. Therefore it is a rant. Feel free not to read it.

• I CANNOT GIVE YOU THE PRICE OF THE HOUSE. Stop calling me and asking me because my answer will always be the same. If the agent you are looking for is not here, then leave them a message. This does not bother me if it's someone's first time calling, but there is this one guy that has called me more than five times in the past three days asking me for the price on a house. Doesn't want to leave the agent a voicemail, doesn't want to call back when I know the agent will be in, he just wants to torment me. (For readers that have been or will be house hunting-I don't know the rules in your state, but here, it is ILLEGAL for me to give someone the price of a house since I'm not a licensed agent. I don't know why. It's just one of those rules.
• DON'T ASK ME TO TYPE A LETTER FOR YOU, ONLY TO BRING IT TO ME SIXTEEN TIMES WITH A NEW CORRECTION. THINK YOU FUCKING THOUGHTS OUT, AND THEN GIVE ME THE LETTER. I'm not exagerating when I say I typed this dude a letter more than sixteen times. I will take pictures of all the "recycled" letters and post them. What pisses me off is that this dude swears I'm the one making the mistakes. I write what I'm handed. I'l make corrections that are obvious like spelling and sentence structure, but if you want to move that sentence around the whole page...DUDE! SERIOUSLY! And then my boss looks at me funny every time I say we have to order more paper. He's not here to see what this fucking guy does to me. I hate him.
• DON'T KEEP ASKING ME WHEN THE BOSS-MAN IS COMING TO THE OFFICE. He owns the joint, if he doesn't want to come in for three days, he has every right. So either call him on his cell phone, or leave me the hell alone. I am not his wife or mother, which in my eyes are the only two people that realyy should know where he is at all times.
• STOP TRYING TO LOOK AT WHAT IS ON MY COMPUTER SCREEN. If I'm not working on something for you, it's none of your business what I'm typing. Contrary to what I may say about checking out blogs all day, (I only do that on days there is NO ONE in the office) I actually do some work. So what is on my screen is not yours, it's someone else's private shit that if they wanted you to see it they would have had you do whatever work it needed.
• HOW DO I GET TELEMARKETERS TO STOP BUGGING ME HERE? I don't want new cable service, I don't want new phone service, I realize you have to work, too, but seriously...

I don't know if I have anything else to write (bitch) about right now. Edits may come since I have 45 minutes left in my day...

Weekend Re-Cap

*Saturday morning Little Man woke up earlier than usual. No worries, I set him on the floor with toys and books and tried to have a few more minutes of sleep. I felt him tap on my nose a few minutes later, and opened one eye.

"Ma" he said holding up the ladybug book he loves to death. (and by this I mean it's that one book he wants read over and over, and backwards, and upside down...)

"Baby, I'll read it to you in a few minutes, let Mama sleep just a little more."
"Peez." he said. My heart melted. My son has never said Please before. I say it to him all the time so that he could get an understanding of what the word means, but when he said it I swear I wanted to cry. I felt guilty for wanting to sleep while he wanted to read. Daddy lifted his head and laughed. He just sounded so cute...I sat up in bed, planted him on my lap and read the ladybug book 42 more times.
That was my sappy moment of the weekend.

*Saturday afternoon Little Man went to a birthday party. He played Pin the Tail on the Donkey, but mostly was trying to pin the tail on everyone else's ass. There was this little girl there that he loved, and he was trying to hug and kiss her most of the time we were there. I don't think she liked him very much she kept pushing him away. Maybe he came on too strong... They had a pinata at the party, but I guess they forgot they were having toddlers there, so he couldn't get any of the candy because I was not in the mood for the Heimlich...so he had bananas instead. My sister is taking him to a birthday party next Sunday for the daughter of one of her co-workers. Let's see if he can get a girl there...hahaha.

*Sunday Daddy and Little Man and I joined friends K &S and their son on a trip to the mall. I hate malls. I hate shopping. I'm not a girly-girl that spends hours and hours at the mall browsing for deals. When I want something, I go in, pay and run out. But it was a beautiful day, and since Baby K is too young for a park (he is only three months old) we decided we would just go to the mall. As soon as we got there we ate at the food court. Then we strapped the kiddos into their strollers and literally window shopped the whole three-story mall. Little Man was so behaved it was just not normal. No crying, no tantrums, no "MA! GIMME!" He sat back in his stroller and enjoyed the view. I thought there was something wrong with him, maybe he was sick, maybe aliens came and took over his body. Nope, he was just loving the outing. I can't wait for the warmer weather so I can take him out everyday.

That was our weekend. I had fun. Oh, and no fighting. We have been conversing like humans, and today he is starting the job search again. We're hoping his BIL can get him a job where he works...

Edited to add: Did anyone else have as much trouble as I did with blogger this morning? Three hours until I could publish this post, or even view my page. WTF????

Me

This is what I look like today. (Even though my nose is a bit higher in real life.)
Found this website through Citymama, and I thought to share. Make your face and post it! Let me know if you do so I can go and check it out!




yup, having way too much fun with this...must. work. now...

Writing Collabo!

The Crazy Hip Blog Mamas wanted us ( the members) to all write something. As I hated writing assignments growing up (and frankly rebelled against any and every "What I did this summer" essay) I still am willing to do this, because it's not being enforced on me by a long-nosed bun-wearing English teacher. (I have nothing against my teachers growing up, I just hated their stupid writing assignments. I excelled in English and creative writing...not that you could tell by the way I write here...)
Anyhoo, the question is WHAT DOES BOEING A CRAZY HIP BLOG MAMA MEAN TO YOU?
Hmmm...to me it means not being that mom that blogs all day about how well Little Man behaves (because he doesn't) and about how great being a mom is (because, well, not always) and how I can't wait to pop out another five of these things (because HELL NO!)
I started reading blogs early in the summer of this year. I stumbled upon them by accident. I started by reading MUBAR because she had a link on my YAHOO! page, for a reason still unknown to me. And I felt like, I don't know, like I was invading her world by reading. But then I realized how many there were, and I started exploring her links, and others, and I found people who were going through the same thing I was going through. People who didn't consider motherhood all peaches and roses. I found the link to Crazy Hip Blog Mamas and I read up on what they were about. It was me, just in different places, time zones, and phases. I had to be a part of that, because if these women can help me figure some stuff out just with their writing, then maybe I can too, for someone else. (not that i'm all chock full of answers...) So being a Crazy Hip Blog Mama means that I can be honest about the hard shit that goes on with my son, without feeling that people are judging me and thinking I'm a horrible mother. (Even though we all know I AM!)
I don't know if that was the kind of answer they were looking for, but that's mine.

My Cloud Of Doom

I don't think I've ever mentioned it here, but I swear my world is covered by a Cloud of Doom. Like the cartoons that the character has a rain cloud over their head, but no one else does... that's me. It will go away for a day or two and make me think things will actually turn out pretty okay for me/us, and BOOM! the thunder comes and lightning strikes me in the ass and I'm reminded that I'm cursed after all.

Daddy is unemployed. The head honcho at Paul Masse Chevrolet decided that the 'car care' people just had to go. Daddy's immediate boss, the one who called him to come back, was included in the firing, not part of the firing squad as the last time. EVERYONE who did anything to a car- clean it, fix it, move it, ANYTHING besides sell it was FIRED. Paul Masse decided to bring in some company that would work at an hourly wage (the guys used to get paid by car-good on busy days, bad on slow days) which turns out to be less money out of the pocket of the company. So there's that. Now: the depression. again. The fights. Again. We haven't spoken in two days. His sister is trying so hard to get everything fixed, he is not. She keeps telling me to stay, to try. He is not. She talks to me and listens to me cry because I. JUST. CAN"T. TAKE. IT. ANY. MORE. But he doesn't. Maybe I should just go to my mom's. Maybe I should give up and stop thinking I will be able to get through yet more bullshit, and...
I can't.
I have no where to run and hide.
How can this cloud be removed?????

I've got the look

Horrible quality in this photo, but I had told supermom I would post one. In this photo I am three years old, my sister is ten. This photo was taken in Puerto Rico just before we went back to Connecticut so my parents could finish off their divorce.
Don't you love the little boy haircut I had? I think that after this photo was taken my mother never cut my hair again until I begged her to cut my hair in a "bob". That was a disaster. Ugh.
Well, there's my 1985 flashback of the day. As I find more photos of me as a child, I will post them. And if I ever find a photo like this in my collection, I will post it, too, because I would want everyone telling me I'm hot, too!

I've been tagged

Supermom tagged me to answer a question...WHO WOULD YOU BE IF YOU COULD BE ANYONE AND WHY? and in turn I have to tag someone to answer a different question...
So here's my answer:
I would still be me. Just happier. I like being me, my life can suck ass sometimes, but I've pulled through so far. Of course, like supermom and octoberbabies I would LOVE to be richer. Who doesn't? That would be great, to be richer and happier.
So, Supermom, I played.
Now- I want to tag my readers. Any of you. If you want to leave it in the comments, go ahead. If you write a post, link it to the comments. Now to think of a question for you guys....
Okay, here it is...
WHAT HAVE YOU NOTICED ABOUT YOURSELF THAT IS JUST LIKE YOUR MOTHER/FATHER IN YOUR FORM OF PARENTING?
I ask this because there are times that I say something to my son, and I'll stop for a second and think God, that was just like my mother...
I would love to hear (read, duh!) your answers.