Just you wait...

When I was younger, say mid teens through early 20s, I had all these opinions. And they were strong opinions. Because of course with all that life experience from which I could draw, I sure knew what I was talking about.

I had political opinions. I had opinions about kids, abortion, sex, relationships, etc. Since then, I've aged.

Matured, even.

A little bit.

Kinda.

Through my experience, I've learned that a.) things are usually not that black & white and b.) I don't know shit.

I try to keep this in mind when dealing with others. I try not to be too judgy of people who do not have the benefit of my experience. Or any experience really.

And while I try to keep this in mind, it doesn't stop me from rolling my eyes & thinking some judgy stuff when I'm presented with certain situations.

My stepbrother & his wife are a good example. They are 21 & are going to have a baby in a couple of months.

Now, at 32 I know what I think of 21-year-olds. Insert eye roll here. I can only imagine how those of you with a decade on me feel about me. A 51-year-old woman called me a fetus last week, so that gives me an idea.

I like my stepbrother. He's cool. A little short-sighted & thus a little lacking in the responsibility department, but he has a good heart. His wife? Not so much. Her gravitational pull is a little more than I can tolerate.

I like to imagine peas underneath her mattress whenever I find her a little too ridiculous. She doesn't work because she just doesn't want to (even before she was pregnant) and she constantly complains about not having any money. Whenever they do get money? They show up with new $400 cell phones, new jewelry, or some other unnecessary extravagance. Then she begs money off of other people to buy plane tickets to go home to visit for the holidays because they just can't get the money together on their own...

Does anyone else find it hard to restrain the "oh puh-lease...."?

But...I know what's coming.

A baby is coming. And they have no clue what that means. No clue at all.

Because no one does. That's part of the joy of becoming a parent for the first time. That "Ohhhh shit...." realization.

When you realize that you don't know what the hell you're doing, but a life depends on you doing it right. A life to which you're probably pretty attached.

I chuckle when she complains about having to get out of bed at noon. Or when she will post about how she's loafing around on the couch all day.

Someone's in for a rude awakening.

I hope that this child will give them the grow up kick in the ass I believe they need. To start thinking beyond what they want for themselves at this very moment. To realize that sometimes someone else's needs come before your own.

I know it's not my kid, it's not my relationship, & therefore, it's not my business. I disagree with many of their attitudes and choices, but I don't share my opinion with anyone because this is their journey to figure out. I just have a pretty educated guess about what's coming (based on my experience with the amazingly easy Boo) and I worry. I know what kids can do to relationships. And I know what ridiculously selfish parents can do to kids. And I worry.

Because that's what I do. And for his sake, (as well as my stepmother's, who I love dearly), I don't want to see my stepbrother fail at something as serious as marriage and parenthood. Sometimes it's really hard to stand by and watch something you're pretty sure is going to be a fiery train wreck and do nothing but pray you're wrong.

Top 10 Things I love about my job

It's been a few weeks since I've participated in Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop, so I thought I'd jump in again this week, since I'm being all posty this week.



This week I chose Prompt #5.

10 Reasons why you love your job.

1. The Paycheck that comes fairly regularly. Every week when I get my "Payday" reminder in outlook? I'm all happy that I will have the illusion that I have money again. For a few minutes.

2. My boss is not an asshat. This is important. I think he is the first non-asshat boss I've had. It really makes a difference, actually. He's actually pretty amusing, which is an extra bonus.

3. It is not the Post Office. I did 7 years hard time as a postal worker. The stereotype of "going postal"? Is there for a reason. I determined that no matter how much I hated my job, my idiot supervisors, and many of my idiot coworkers? None of them were worth jail, than you very much.

4. The internet is there. What else needs to be said? I <3 the internet. So much.

5. I have 2 monitors. Now I'm just bragging. The 2 monitor thing? Is so freaking awesome. Altho it does make my laptop at home seem woefully inadequate, what with it's single screen and all.

6. I have not slept with anyone I work with. Sleeping with coworkers has only worked out well for me once. I married that one. Previously? I ended up dealing with really immature men creating drama. And one stalker.

7. We frequently get cake. Everyone in this place is pregnant. I'm afraid to drink the water here. But all these pregnant people? Get baby showers. And baby showers mean cake. I <3 cake.

8. I have a whole file drawer full of snacks. Munchies? Are crucial to maintaining my sanity through the day. Seriously. If I don't eat regularly? I turn into psycho bitch. And no one likes that.

9. There is a Chipotle within lunching distance. No explanation is necessary for this one.

10. I love the feeling of being just Me for 8 hours a day. No one expects me to clean up their poop, cook for them, or do their laundry.

Tales of an Asshat

So, I got some inspiration from Kristin over at Taming Insanity about being an asshat. Go read her post because it's funny. I'll wait.

...

Back?

...Helllllooo?...Hey! You were supposed to come back! Hmph.

Well fine then. I'm still going to tell the tale of my asshattery. Even if I'm talking to myself. Well, typing to myself. Oh, never mind.

So. A while back, my stepdaughter Princess had a bit of a "poo incident" as we like to call them. I discovered this when Hub emerged from the bathroom carrying her shorts and underwear with 2 fingers at a significant distance from his person.

"She didn't make it to the bathroom on time." Oh, goody. "What should I do with these?"

Burn them? Throw them in a bucket of turpentine? Take this opportunity to teach Princess how to wash her own clothes?

Sigh.

"Put them in the utility sink thingy downstairs by the washer. I'll get it later."

So, he dutifully takes the offending soiled garments downstairs & tosses them in the sink, just as I have asked him to do. Good Hub. Thank you. You have listened well.

Later on, I threw in a load of laundry. I don't remember what I washed, but it was something with which poo crusted underwear was not compatible, so I did not throw those in with the wash. I left them in the utility sink where hub had tossed them for me.

Fast forward an hour or so. I go into the laundry room to put the load in the dryer. I notice, as I step in it's cold, squishy goodness, that the rug in front of the washer is wet.

First thought? Is "damn cat peed on the rug!" I glance around the laundry room & notice that a lot of the floor is wet. Gandalf (cat) has done some impressive things in his day, but this amount of wet? Is out of even his league.

See, the floor is not just a little wet. There are puddles.

I start to panic, thinking the water heater has sprung a leak. I start running through scenarios of how I'm going to break this joyous news to Hub. And the freezing shower I'll have to take that night.

Then it occurs to me, I had just given Boo a bath & the water was plenty warm. Probably wouldn't be the case if the water heater was in the process of its explosive death throes.

Then I notice the sink. And the underwear that are now stuffed in the drain. Our washer drains into this sink. So it is kinda important that the drain remain unobstructed. Didn't occur to me when I told Hub to toss the underwear in there. Or when I started the laundry.

It's amazing how much of a mess a poo incident in a tiny pair of underwear can make when the situation is managed by an asshat like myself!

Ooops. And guess who got to mop up the laundry room? It even flooded the cat box. Yay me.

Sigh.

Cawfee Tawk

Today, I pose a question for you guys.

And I'll answer my own question, too. Just because I'm verbose like that. Plus? I don't want to post a 2 line blog. I think I'd feel like I was cheating.

Can a bad person be a good parent?

Discuss.

My answer? I don't really think so. I know you guys have all had some really diverse upbringings, so I'm terribly curious to get some opinions on this.

This came up in one of my classes recently (did I mention I'm precisely 2 weeks away from being done with my bachelors?) and the thought intrigued me.

I suppose one would need to define "bad person" before one could adequately answer the question. And even that? Is relative. What I think the criteria for "bad person" are? May be far different than what you think qualifies.

I think that a huge part of being a parent is setting an example for your kids. I am so not a "Do as I say not as I do" kind of parent. I always hated that as a kid.

I kind of have issues with hypocrisy. But that's another post.

I think if someone is a bad person, they would be setting a fundamentally bad example for their kids. I think they would be prone to making poorer parenting choices.

I think a bad person could really love their kids. I think a bad person could want the best for their kids. But if that person is fundamentally flawed in their thoughts and/or behavior? I'm not sure how that could translate into good parent.

I suppose it could be argued that said bad parent could be setting the example of what not to do. I know I learned a lot about what I didn't want my marriage to be based on my parents' relationship. So I could, perhaps, see that point. Perhaps.

I really am curious. If you disagree, I'm totally cool with that...as long as you explain yourself! Tell me...what do you think?

This morning sucked.

Ok, so this morning sucked. You may have already gotten this impression from my clever title. Perhaps.

I mean really sucked. In the "my eyes are still puffy and irritated, and I had to do disaster management on my makeup" kind of way.

I hope the universe isn't trying to give me the finger again. I like it better when the universe likes me.

*sigh*

When dealing with kids, one has to learn about behavior management. We want to encourage the behavior we like and discourage the behavior we don't like. Right?

Right.

I'm discovering that marriage is much the same way. Not in the sense that I'm "training" Hub to be a good little Stepford Husband. In the sense that if I want an actual honest relationship? I can't freak out & go all psycho bitch on him for being honest.

Assuming he wasn't an asshat in the delivery process.

Today? I feel like the asshat. One big rectal-cranial juncture.

Today? I want to scream.

And cry (some more).

And throw something.

Wait, I'd like to punch that thing before I throw it.

Today? I've realized that there are some battles? I just don't have the energy to fight. The battle will still be there. It will always be there. I realize that now. And it's a battle I can't win. Knowing I can't win a battle that will always be there? Makes me feel stupid for even trying to fight. Maybe that makes me weak. I dunno.

Also? I really hate those arguments where I know he's right and by knowing he's right? I also know that I have done something stupid/mean/unfair. I hate being stupid or unfair. Feeling stupid? Sends me from zero to psycho bitch in 3.7 seconds.

And I just plain don't like injustice.

Being mean? Eh. I can deal with that from time to time. Being a mommy has desensitized me to mean.

Pffft. Mean.

So this morning? He was right.

And the whole asshat thing? Makes it really hard to get my makeup on right. We will not even discuss blow-drying. ::Ow::

I so hate it when he's right.


This post is part of the Word Up, Yo! Weekly meme hosted by the Nerd Mafia Dons Liz at a belle, a bean, and a chicago dog; Kristin from Taming Insanity; and Natalie from Mommy of a Monster

Friday Flipoffs

Ok, trying to get back in the groove here. I've been slacking lately with only a post or 2 a week...and (sniff) I think (sniiiiffff) that people (sniff sniff) HAVE FORGOTTEN ABOUT ME (insert tearful wail here).

::composes self::

Er, I mean, my comments have really dropped off and since I'm such a comment whore I really enjoy the dialogue with my readers, I need to get back into better writing habits.

Plus part of the reason I have this blog is so I can write. So I really should do that occasionally.

Anyway, moving on to the interesting part...

First, I'd like to flip off the circumstances keeping me from my cousin's bachelorette party in New York this weekend. She is a very cool cousin (in law) & she's spending the weekend in NYC for her bachelorette party. Hosted by her drag queen uncle. I should so be at this party. But? I'm broke. And? I'm smack dab in the middle of my last class (insert hallelujah chorus here) before I get my degree. Not conducive for dropping everything & going to NYC, particularly since I have to do 99% of my homework on the weekends. Kids? I think Hub would watch kids for me to go, so I don't flip them off. They're cool. But the rest? Flip Off. I've never been to NYC. :(

Next, I'd like to flip off my stepdaughter's school. As you may have read in my Princess Chaos post, the school keeps losing my stepdaughter. Ok, the last time was kinda her fault (she's a little nefarious), but really. Please stop losing her. It's getting annoying for all involved.

Oh, & a second flip off for the school. Today? Princess Bulldozer came home with a ziplock full of paint. So she could learn to trace letters with her finger. Ok. Cool idea for the classroom, not so much for the home. That child? Is a disaster ninja. And if I get a ziplock full of dark purple paint on my new couch? Someone is getting a ninja star up their...

...anyway...Flip Off!

And, for an honorable mention...Knee pain. Again, I flip you off. I am glad you're almost gone now. Three weeks later. But you have been keeping me from reestablishing my gym routine. This does not please me. I'm not old enough to be all pathetic and infirmed. Please stop with the debilitating pain. Seriously. Flip Off.

That is all. I feel better now. And all on time & stuff. Yay me.

A special thanks to Momma Kiss for hosting the Flip Offs this week! :)

Princess Chaos

So, we have custody of my stepdaughter while her mother "gets her life back on track." Which, as I've said before, implies that it ever was on track. In fact? I don't think her mother even knows there is a track & that she should be on it, much less where said track is & how to get back on it.

But I digress.

Princess comes with chaos.

I like plans. I like sticking to said plans. Plans give me a feeling of control. I like control. I don't like deviating from the plan.

Chaos? Was not in the plan.

This particular strain of chaos began her 1st week of school. A mere 4 weeks ago.

When kindergartners start school in our district, they are on a "staggered start." Which means 1/3 of the class goes on Monday, the next 1/3 goes Tuesday, the final 1/3 on Friday. Princess? Was to start Tuesday. This means we had to come up with alternative care arrangements for Monday & Wednesday.

Might I mention that I think this staggered start thing is DUMB? I understand, more individualized attention, blah blah blah. Personally? I think it's giving kids false expectations of what to expect from school. But I am not an educator. I'm curmudgeony & reflective of my 1st day of kindergarten, where I just got dumped at the door & was expected to suck it up.

After walking uphill both ways. In the 200 degree desert. With no shoes. And broken glass lining the sidewalk.

I digress.

So, we scrambled to find alternative care. It was expensive, but we found some.

Thursday? The school lost her. They sent her to after-care when Hub was supposed to pick her up. He discovered this after waiting for an hour to get her. Then got to go wait at after-care until the bus arrived...another 1/2 hour later.

Did I mention he was supposed to be working?

The following Monday (beginning of week 2), Princess managed to face plant onto something concrete. Hub got the call that she might need stitches. He immediately left to retrieve Princess. Only to discover that I had the insurance card & HSA credit card.

Did I mention that we both work 30 miles in opposite directions from our house?

*sigh*

So then I left to take him the cards.

She somehow managed to miss the outside of her face altogether. When her face hit whatever? She hit it gums first. Big, ugly gash over her incisors.

Urgent care? Could do nothing. She had to rinse her mouth & we had to watch for gray tooth death. Dentist said the same thing. Oh, & she can only eat soft foods.

Cutting up her sandwiches into teeny tiny bite-sized pieces? Not the joy of my life.

Did I mention Wednesday was school picture day?

We tried to get her to smile with her mouth closed. She didn't really get it.

Wednesday at after-care, she wasn't paying attention & didn't notice the boy in front of her stop. She kept going. And hit the back of his head. Face first. Reopening the mouth wound.

Thursday? I told her not to hit her face on anything. She didn't. Yay!

Friday? She hit her mouth on a clothes pin at school.

?!?

She left for her mother's that evening & returned with a nasty cough.

So Hub took her to the Dr. on Thursday (Week 3) & got a new drug regimen (allergy drugs & an inhaler) to get rid of the cough.

Yesterday (beginning of week 4)? They lost her again. Somehow, between when she was released from her class to the class where she was supposed to wait? She decided she didn't want to wait in that class. And thus, missed her bus.

*Sigh*

Did I mention that I don't like chaos?

I pray that not everything with her will be this ridiculous. None of this? Even covers the chaos at home.

*Sigh*

A Nefarious (or stupid) Cat

I am writing this post as a result of the inspiration provided by Lori's The Evil Done by Cats post.

Because I'm a "grown up" (Ok, stop laughing. Seriously. Whatever beverage you just spit all over your screen? Is not going to clean itself up. And it's going to get sticky if it dries there.) and have kids and responsibilities etc, I am going to alter a few inconsequential components.

So, back in the day, when I was maybe 23 or so, I lived by myself with 2 cats. Each had their own unique proclivities. One was very personable and gorgeous, but was prone to urinary blockages. He was expensive.

The other was kind of a cantankerous old man, pretty much since kittenhood. He would get angry & whip his tail around vigorously. Often, he would vigorously whap people in the head from the back of the couch. Really, why did you feel the need to sit on the couch and invade his dance space? He also had an affection for plastic. Many a night I would have to yell at him for licking a plastic grocery bag and waking me up at 2am.

Both cats liked to puke at 2am. Loud enough to wake me & spur the thought "I need to remember not to step in that in the morning...." which would inevitably lead to me waking up & stepping in it in the morning.

Also during this time? I was very into, um, herbs. I was particularly fond of special fresh oregano. This special fresh oregano? Tended to be fairly expensive. On this one particular occasion, I purchased a small nug bit of the fresh oregano. The proprietor of said oregano was out of his usual baggies shipping materials, so he instead utilized some Saran wrap as a means of keeping my oregano fresh during transport.

One evening when I was ready to bake cook, I went in search of my special fresh oregano and could not find it. I did, however, discover in my travels some cat puke. I remembered waking up in the middle of the night to the sound of the plastic-loving cat licking away at the plastic. Stupid cat must have eaten some of the plastic.

Now, I know what you're thinking. But the cat had always been very put off by any kind of oregano. If he even saw me get out any of the cooking supplies? He left the room. Oregano? Always offended him.

I chocked up the whole situation to me not putting my oregano back where it belonged when I was done cooking. It would show up again eventually.

So, the next morning, as I am getting dressed in the bathroom, my cat comes up meowing and proceeds to drag his butt across the floor. Um, gross. He's never done that before. As he gets up from his butt dragging, I notice something odd.

About 3 inches of Saran wrap hanging out of his butt.

Dammit.

Apparently, oregano does not do much to cats. Other than make them puke at 2am. Which they do anyway. Or it could have been the large wad of plastic wrap in his gullet.

So I think to myself...self, you can't really leave the cat with Saran wrap hanging out of his ass.

If I can't leave him like that....then I have to remove the Saran wrap.

Sigh.

So, I find myself sitting on the floor, trying to restrain my angry, tail-whipping, oregano-eating cat while I pull Saran wrap out of his butt.

Pulling 8 inches of plastic wrap out of a feline rectum? Not on my list of things to do that morning. Also? Not that easy.

I might add that the oregano did not survive it's journey through the cat. The Saran wrap was devoid of its original contents by the time it was fully removed from the cat.

Staff Meeting Sideshow

This week has been a doozy already & it's only Wednesday. Let's just start with Monday morning, shall we?

On Monday, I had a staff meeting. Not only is there all the joy that is associated with a general staff meeting, but it also means I have to be up early & at work earlier than usual. To be fair, "usual" is like 9 or 9:30, so early? Is not really saying much.

I think I may have mentioned previously that I'm not a morning person.

This particular staff meeting had a little sideshow entertainment however. The meeting took place in our conference room which has many large windows that overlook a somewhat wooded area. Just as the company president started her "Welcome!" speech, a couple of guys came walking by outside the window.

With a chainsaw.

From the gallery I hear "Is that a chainsaw?" And I start snickering. Uncontrollably.

As we start going through our 3rd quarter performance, the guy starts firing up the chainsaw. Apparently, they need to cut down a tree directly outside the window.

So, I'm trying to focus on our profit margins, but find the guys sawing down the tree infinitely more interesting than our revenue to date.

Then the guy sawing the trunk jerks his hand back from the chainsaw & looks at it as if it has offended him. He returns to sawing. Then he jerks his hand back again & this time stands up & looks around.

I do not see any blood spurting or missing digits, so I am baffled.

Then he starts swatting and running around all panicked. Chainsaw is still running & buried in the tree trunk.

Apparently? They have found a collection of stinging insects in the area.

Now, I'm not completely insensitive. I do feel bad for the guy. But still. Corporate goals versus chainsaw guy running around in a panic swatting at invisible attackers?

There really is no contest here. Particularly for my pitiful little attention span.

And this little sideshow? Is only the beginning. Perhaps I should've heeded the foreshadowing of my week to come.

Really, though? If the week is going to continue like it has been? I sincerely hope it maintains that little bit of "funny" to take the edge off. Makes ridiculousness & stress a little easier to stomach. And? It makes better blog fodder if it's not all grouchy and crap-like.