I have a lot to be thankful for this year. The fact that I've made it through another year of motherhood without losing my mind (although this is questionable) is a chief accomplishment.
I have a gaggle of great girlfriends. Last month I saw the name of a new show called The Cashmere Mafia. I think I'd like to adopt that. No idea what the show is about and I don't care, but I like to think we're all at a place in our lives and in out friendships where this term sorta applies.
Know what I hate about he end of the year, though? Those "who died this year" retrospectives. I would like a random listing of who was born. While none of my friends gave birth this year, an astounding number of them are due to do just that in the nest 8 months. So next year, I'll be looking at the "who was born" list.
Also - and this is purely and randomly tangential - what is up with ice cream at the grocery store? I really don't know anyone who puts ice cream on heir shopping list (outside of birthday parties). But there it is - an entire isle in the frozen food section just for the ice cream and the ice cream derivatives. Let me make it clear that this is not a complaint.
So, to sum up. I am thankful for not losing my mind, mostly thanks to my frinds and ice cream. Happy New Year! :)
Monday, December 31, 2007
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
It Isn't Christmas Without an Altercation
Wow, we don't even put the FUN in dysfunctional anymore. I believe everyone the world over knows of my dislike for my brother's girlfriend Anna. I use the term "waste of space" affectionately with her. But at least I keep those feelings to myself at Christmas.
Not The Drama Queen.
My sister was determined to start something this holiday season, so the night baby Jesus was born is just as good a time as any. She started with her speech on gratitude, telling John that Anna and the girls has better show some this year. John said he would talk to Anna and the girls about it.
(Now, I was the one who had the beef with that last year. The fact that they stayed with us for a few nights, we went out of out way to accommodate them and got the girls - whom we had never met before - some pretty good loot was cool, until none of them uttered a word of thanks. That irked me, which is why the whole lot of them were in a hotel this year.)
Oh, but this was not enough for Hurricane Melissa.
When John and Anna went out for a smoke, Anna's youngest girl got into a tad of mischief (nothing horrendous) and Melissa took it upon herself to take John to task on the fact that one of them should be in the house at all times to watch the kids. This sent john over the edge. John over the edge is NOT a pretty thing. He is like my dad. Slooooooowwwww burn then KABOOM!
Needless to say, John and Melissa wouldn't be in the same room for the next hour, which put ME over the edge. I delivered a speech to everyone in the house that went something like this "It is Christmas, dammit. I don't care what was said or to whom. Get your shit together and be merry, goddammit. Now, you have five minutes to collect your thoughts, get your asses upstairs and have a merry Christmas. I am done having Christmas ruined."
I believe this is the point where mom and dad decided a) to go home a day early and b) to go to Florida next year for Christmas.
Fine by me. I plan on converting to Judaism by then. When the rabbi asks me why now, I'll just tell him Christmas put me over the edge this year.
Hope all of yours was better.
Ho ho ho, dammit.
Not The Drama Queen.
My sister was determined to start something this holiday season, so the night baby Jesus was born is just as good a time as any. She started with her speech on gratitude, telling John that Anna and the girls has better show some this year. John said he would talk to Anna and the girls about it.
(Now, I was the one who had the beef with that last year. The fact that they stayed with us for a few nights, we went out of out way to accommodate them and got the girls - whom we had never met before - some pretty good loot was cool, until none of them uttered a word of thanks. That irked me, which is why the whole lot of them were in a hotel this year.)
Oh, but this was not enough for Hurricane Melissa.
When John and Anna went out for a smoke, Anna's youngest girl got into a tad of mischief (nothing horrendous) and Melissa took it upon herself to take John to task on the fact that one of them should be in the house at all times to watch the kids. This sent john over the edge. John over the edge is NOT a pretty thing. He is like my dad. Slooooooowwwww burn then KABOOM!
Needless to say, John and Melissa wouldn't be in the same room for the next hour, which put ME over the edge. I delivered a speech to everyone in the house that went something like this "It is Christmas, dammit. I don't care what was said or to whom. Get your shit together and be merry, goddammit. Now, you have five minutes to collect your thoughts, get your asses upstairs and have a merry Christmas. I am done having Christmas ruined."
I believe this is the point where mom and dad decided a) to go home a day early and b) to go to Florida next year for Christmas.
Fine by me. I plan on converting to Judaism by then. When the rabbi asks me why now, I'll just tell him Christmas put me over the edge this year.
Hope all of yours was better.
Ho ho ho, dammit.
Sunday, December 23, 2007
For Christmas, We got THE MEASLES
Isn't that fantastic? Jack certainly looks festive. He actually has Roseola, which is a "form of the measles." I have no idea what the fuck that means, since I was stuck with the doctor on call last night, who had all the personality of a rabid raccoon. Doctor Patrella. I don;t recommend him.
J was running a fever on Thursday of 103.9 and was very lethargic. His fever came down but he still wasn't himself on Friday, so we went to see the doctor. She was looking for a rash, but it hadn't yet appeared. Cue Saturday afternoon (after doctors' hours, of course) when his cheeks became rosy and the rash started on his belly. By evening it was on his back, too. Roseola was the diagnosis, so I am on my way to search the web to see if this means we are done with measles for good.
He apparently isn't contagious as long as the fever is gone (it is) so we don't have to cancel Christmas. But I AM glad we canceled Friday's play date - aren't you? I am seriously considering pulling him out of daycare. Enough is enough with the biting and infectious diseases already.
J was running a fever on Thursday of 103.9 and was very lethargic. His fever came down but he still wasn't himself on Friday, so we went to see the doctor. She was looking for a rash, but it hadn't yet appeared. Cue Saturday afternoon (after doctors' hours, of course) when his cheeks became rosy and the rash started on his belly. By evening it was on his back, too. Roseola was the diagnosis, so I am on my way to search the web to see if this means we are done with measles for good.
He apparently isn't contagious as long as the fever is gone (it is) so we don't have to cancel Christmas. But I AM glad we canceled Friday's play date - aren't you? I am seriously considering pulling him out of daycare. Enough is enough with the biting and infectious diseases already.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Oh. My. God.
Well, I hope all of you are prepared to make good on promises that you said you would come through on when hell froze over. Because, friends, let me tell you, Satan himself has opened a 7-11 and the Slurpees are flowing freely.
Today Sara - she of bringing her own food to my reception, among other near relationship-ending misdeeds - apologized for everything. She said she felt terrible about how our relationship started, that it should have never been that way and that she was sorry. Let us just take a moment to absorb this new information.
This is all I have ever said I wanted. And so, I am just done being angry with her. I now have to find a new hobby. I have gobs of time on my hands that I can fill with knitting, scrapbooking, or simply channeling my venom towards Naomi's bonehead soon (but not soon enough) to be ex-husband.
I am shocked, relieved and have an overwhelming sense of peace about the entire thing, really.
Thoughts?
Today Sara - she of bringing her own food to my reception, among other near relationship-ending misdeeds - apologized for everything. She said she felt terrible about how our relationship started, that it should have never been that way and that she was sorry. Let us just take a moment to absorb this new information.
This is all I have ever said I wanted. And so, I am just done being angry with her. I now have to find a new hobby. I have gobs of time on my hands that I can fill with knitting, scrapbooking, or simply channeling my venom towards Naomi's bonehead soon (but not soon enough) to be ex-husband.
I am shocked, relieved and have an overwhelming sense of peace about the entire thing, really.
Thoughts?
Sunday, December 16, 2007
Just Venting
In our house, it seems as if only one of us can parent at a time. And when I say "one of us", I mean ME. When I am in the room, Daddy just tunes out. Unless, of course, he believes I should be administering discipline that I am clearly not. Last time I checked, we were both listing on the f-ing birth certificate.
I'm pretty sure that Osi believes himself to be up for father of the year this weekend because he stayed with Jack for 5 whole hours on Saturday while I went to go hand-craft his Christmas present AND he let me sleep in all the way to 9 am this morning. Oh, the life of a put-upon father.
I can only imagine what his life would be like if he attempted to get all of his daily work done with a toddler strapped to him. Somehow, though, he just thinks this should be no big deal for me. My job. Silly Chris. I thought we both applied. I am apparently also in charge of social coordination (if we leave the house EVER, it is because I have scheduled something), present procurement, meal provision and clean underwear.
Seriously, I think I might run away from home soon.
Done venting now.
I'm pretty sure that Osi believes himself to be up for father of the year this weekend because he stayed with Jack for 5 whole hours on Saturday while I went to go hand-craft his Christmas present AND he let me sleep in all the way to 9 am this morning. Oh, the life of a put-upon father.
I can only imagine what his life would be like if he attempted to get all of his daily work done with a toddler strapped to him. Somehow, though, he just thinks this should be no big deal for me. My job. Silly Chris. I thought we both applied. I am apparently also in charge of social coordination (if we leave the house EVER, it is because I have scheduled something), present procurement, meal provision and clean underwear.
Seriously, I think I might run away from home soon.
Done venting now.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
The Toddler is Kicking My Ass
My 2-year-old is kicking my ass. Both literally and figuratively. He is in the midst of that existential crisis known as the Terrible Twos. And he, admittedly, is a very spoiled two.
Having decided from the word "go" that he was going to be our one and only, the child has wanted for nothing. Not toys, love, attention or Laurie Berkner videos. As a result, he has become my own personal Veruca Salt. "He wants the world. He wants the WHOLE world..." Oh, and he wants it NOW. And God help the poor bastard that doesn't give it to him immediately. They get the crap beat out of them.
Mostly, that is me.
I have tried holding his hands firmly, looking him in the eyes and saying a firm, loud, "NO." I have tried time out. I have tried yelling and I have even tried hitting back in a moment of weakness and desperation. None of this is working.
Daycare says he isn't a hitter there. Just me, Osi and the poor dog, Frannie. I guess the saying "We always hurt the ones we love the most" is true, unless, of course, this is his way of saying he would like a new family because he hates his current one. Fine with me, kiddo, I'm not so keen on you these days, either.
It is frustrating and demoralizing to be smacked dead in the face repeatedly by someone you would stand in front of a bullet for a million times over. I am at my wits' end and am out of ideas. You've seen what I've tried. What are your thoughts? Any ideas?
Having decided from the word "go" that he was going to be our one and only, the child has wanted for nothing. Not toys, love, attention or Laurie Berkner videos. As a result, he has become my own personal Veruca Salt. "He wants the world. He wants the WHOLE world..." Oh, and he wants it NOW. And God help the poor bastard that doesn't give it to him immediately. They get the crap beat out of them.
Mostly, that is me.
I have tried holding his hands firmly, looking him in the eyes and saying a firm, loud, "NO." I have tried time out. I have tried yelling and I have even tried hitting back in a moment of weakness and desperation. None of this is working.
Daycare says he isn't a hitter there. Just me, Osi and the poor dog, Frannie. I guess the saying "We always hurt the ones we love the most" is true, unless, of course, this is his way of saying he would like a new family because he hates his current one. Fine with me, kiddo, I'm not so keen on you these days, either.
It is frustrating and demoralizing to be smacked dead in the face repeatedly by someone you would stand in front of a bullet for a million times over. I am at my wits' end and am out of ideas. You've seen what I've tried. What are your thoughts? Any ideas?
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Boo Humbug
I officially hate Halloween. A perfect storm developed this evening in that we had A) a child likely too young to be trick-or-treating at all, B) said child has a love affair with doors and C) said child was off his schedule and way over-tired. What we had was a cranky pirate.
Mandie and Phil brought Jazmine over to partake of the Bexley trick-or-treat goodness at 5:30. She was an adorable cat and got the concept right away. Jack, with his love of doors, tried to break and enter every place we attempted to visit, starting with our next door neighbors, with whom or relationship is fragile at best (and who also think Osi's name is Ollie). When entry was not permitted, there was a screaming hissy fit.
That scene was repeated at the next 4 houses. This escalated (my bad, should have gone home immediately) with me trying to wrestle my kid out of a doorway and tripping over - and subsequently knocking to the ground- an 18-month-old pumpkin. I threw my pirate over my shoulder, surrendered and speed-walked home. The neighbors all stared. We also received no candy, thus virtually failing trick-or-treat on our first attempt.
On a side note, I have a real Central Bexley inferiority complex. I attempted to compensate by giving out full size candy bars. I will report later on whether our house remained un-egged this evening. We may drive a dented CRV and not a BMW, dammit, but we DO give out full size Snickers - we have priorities!
I hate Halloween.
Mandie and Phil brought Jazmine over to partake of the Bexley trick-or-treat goodness at 5:30. She was an adorable cat and got the concept right away. Jack, with his love of doors, tried to break and enter every place we attempted to visit, starting with our next door neighbors, with whom or relationship is fragile at best (and who also think Osi's name is Ollie). When entry was not permitted, there was a screaming hissy fit.
That scene was repeated at the next 4 houses. This escalated (my bad, should have gone home immediately) with me trying to wrestle my kid out of a doorway and tripping over - and subsequently knocking to the ground- an 18-month-old pumpkin. I threw my pirate over my shoulder, surrendered and speed-walked home. The neighbors all stared. We also received no candy, thus virtually failing trick-or-treat on our first attempt.
On a side note, I have a real Central Bexley inferiority complex. I attempted to compensate by giving out full size candy bars. I will report later on whether our house remained un-egged this evening. We may drive a dented CRV and not a BMW, dammit, but we DO give out full size Snickers - we have priorities!
I hate Halloween.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Holy Moly!
So, I have been out of touch. My apologies. I've never understood the term "under the weather." Are we not always "under the weather"? I would hope so. I guess when we are flying "around the weather" or "over the weather" in an airplane then that would be the exception. Either way - that's where I have been. (Under the weather, not in an airplane. Don't I wish it.)
It started as a chest pain that Dr. Mom said was a pulled muscle. My confidence in Dr. Mom, after this week, is waning, let me tell you. In a nutshell, I turned 34 and apparently some of the warranties on body parts started to expire. So, by Monday afternoon, I was a mess, and throwing the nurse practitioner and several doctors in the practice I go to for a loop when they couldn't explain what the hell was wrong with me. At what point they decided it could be a pulmonary embolism, I do not know, but that scared the bejeezus out of me. Since that was the last test they could think of, they chalked it up to a really nasty virus and sent me home (so they wouldn't catch it, methinks).
In other news. the Temple finally axed the incompetent graphic designer and in a bizarre twist asked what I was doing for the next month or so. So it looks like I may be working there on a contract basis for November. Also, I have an interview with the sitter connection for sitter interviewer/scheduler. It has been an interesting few weeks.
It started as a chest pain that Dr. Mom said was a pulled muscle. My confidence in Dr. Mom, after this week, is waning, let me tell you. In a nutshell, I turned 34 and apparently some of the warranties on body parts started to expire. So, by Monday afternoon, I was a mess, and throwing the nurse practitioner and several doctors in the practice I go to for a loop when they couldn't explain what the hell was wrong with me. At what point they decided it could be a pulmonary embolism, I do not know, but that scared the bejeezus out of me. Since that was the last test they could think of, they chalked it up to a really nasty virus and sent me home (so they wouldn't catch it, methinks).
In other news. the Temple finally axed the incompetent graphic designer and in a bizarre twist asked what I was doing for the next month or so. So it looks like I may be working there on a contract basis for November. Also, I have an interview with the sitter connection for sitter interviewer/scheduler. It has been an interesting few weeks.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Party Hangover
Well, it is one week after Jack's second birthday and I think we may have finally recovered. Talk about an extravaganza. Methinks we went a wee bit overboard. Us? Nooooooo.Let us begin with the 2 dozen balloons (plus 2 giant music balloons on top of those), three dozen guests (10 of THOSE being under the age of 7) and the hired musical entertainment. FOR THE TWO-YEAR-OLD. Sweet baby Jesus. That's not even mentioning the boatload of birthday booty he accumulated from his very generous birthday guests. It took us three days to open all of the gifts. I think we've committed at least 4 of the 7 deadly sins during the course of this poor kid's birthday. So that was Sunday.
Tuesday, we took cuppycakes (or rather, had Chef Tony prepare cuppycakes, so they would be Kosher Enough) for Jack's class and school. I didn't realize that the first thing they teach you at preschool is how to lick the icing off of a cupcake. All of these kids, ages ranging 12 to 36 months, did it quickly and with dexterity. Isabella had her cupcake naked and faked a drop to get another one. I knew I liked her. There was a special birthday hat that Jack wanted nothing to do with, but which Sam was happy to wear. Sam, apparently, is the designated class hat-wearer. There was singing and much joy in the land. That was Tuesday.
Jack's actual birthday was Wednesday. This was marked with birthday cake for breakfast, a trip to the zoo, a baby grand piano from Mommy and Daddy and dinner with the Crattys at Red Robin. In other words, pretty low key. I think next year we will reanimate the dinosaurs from extinction and offer free rides in the backyard. I'd better get crackin'.Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Wailing and Gnashing of Teeth
Drop off at daycare/preschool has gotten to be an exercise in tough love. This morning Ms. Connie had to literally pry Jack off of me and then she suggested I leave quickly. I know he is fine after I leave (that's the party line they're sticking to anyway), but I spent most of the morning nauseous and picked him up at 2.
Am I fooling myself by believing that his social interaction is more important than hanging with Mommy at two years old? There are certainly (at least) two schools on that one. Pro and con. I have noticed he is much more vocal/verbal lately. Is that because of the interaction or because he is about to turn 2? Dunno.
Mothers who steadfastly believe that a SAHM is a GOOD mom will, I'm sure, tell me that I am putting us both through this for nothing. Moms with their kids in childcare will tell me it's all good and "just a phase." I didn't realize there are so many shades of gray in motherhood. I appreciate nuance as much as the next gal, but sometimes I'd kill for a black and white view of things.
Am I fooling myself by believing that his social interaction is more important than hanging with Mommy at two years old? There are certainly (at least) two schools on that one. Pro and con. I have noticed he is much more vocal/verbal lately. Is that because of the interaction or because he is about to turn 2? Dunno.
Mothers who steadfastly believe that a SAHM is a GOOD mom will, I'm sure, tell me that I am putting us both through this for nothing. Moms with their kids in childcare will tell me it's all good and "just a phase." I didn't realize there are so many shades of gray in motherhood. I appreciate nuance as much as the next gal, but sometimes I'd kill for a black and white view of things.
Monday, September 17, 2007
High on the Holidays
Oy Gevalt! It's High Holy Days time again! Jack celebrated his second Hebrew birthday on Erev Rosh Hashanah (that would be last Wednesdays for all you shiksas out there). And by "celebrated" I mean that he had ravioli for dinner and promptly got stuck in Temple's babysitting room while Osi and I attended services.
I did my first candle-lighting for a pre-holiday dinner. God bless the Crabills for not laughing. My Hebrew, as you can imagine, is not so good. We are currently seeking a babysitter so Osi and I can go to services and break-the-fast on Yom Kipur. If you know anyone, send them our way. Since OSU plays at 3:30, all of our "usuals" are tied up watching he game.
We're invited to the Delsons for break-the-(nonexistent)-fast, which thrills me to no end. The reason I am trying to be so active in Sisterhood is to develop a network that supports our family and our raising Jack as a Jew. Lord knows that network ain't his sisters, since they don't think Osi is "Jewish enough" and don't think Jack is Jewish at all. Thank God for the Crabills (again), Coopers, Delsons and everyone else who is welcoming.
By the way, for those of you who have not tried the Rosh Hashanah tradition of dipping apples in honey - YOU MUST! It is the most delicious snack ever. We had an abundance of apples from our pre-holiday apple-picking adventure (Jack used the fallen apples as balls - we had to dodge them to pick the good apples). So, the baking maven that I am, I whipped up an apple crisp, upside down apple cake, three pies and some baked apples. See, I told you we had a lot of apples. One pie went to Barbi's, another we ate and one is in the freezer. I didn't think it was wise to accept the thrown gauntlet of "Can we eat three pies?" I heard ob the Builder in my head urging "YES WE CAN!" But we shouldn't, hence the parceling out of said pastries.
We are in the season of Jewish Holidays, so I don;t expect to poke my head above water again for a few weeks. Happy Jewish New Year to you :)
I did my first candle-lighting for a pre-holiday dinner. God bless the Crabills for not laughing. My Hebrew, as you can imagine, is not so good. We are currently seeking a babysitter so Osi and I can go to services and break-the-fast on Yom Kipur. If you know anyone, send them our way. Since OSU plays at 3:30, all of our "usuals" are tied up watching he game.
We're invited to the Delsons for break-the-(nonexistent)-fast, which thrills me to no end. The reason I am trying to be so active in Sisterhood is to develop a network that supports our family and our raising Jack as a Jew. Lord knows that network ain't his sisters, since they don't think Osi is "Jewish enough" and don't think Jack is Jewish at all. Thank God for the Crabills (again), Coopers, Delsons and everyone else who is welcoming.
By the way, for those of you who have not tried the Rosh Hashanah tradition of dipping apples in honey - YOU MUST! It is the most delicious snack ever. We had an abundance of apples from our pre-holiday apple-picking adventure (Jack used the fallen apples as balls - we had to dodge them to pick the good apples). So, the baking maven that I am, I whipped up an apple crisp, upside down apple cake, three pies and some baked apples. See, I told you we had a lot of apples. One pie went to Barbi's, another we ate and one is in the freezer. I didn't think it was wise to accept the thrown gauntlet of "Can we eat three pies?" I heard ob the Builder in my head urging "YES WE CAN!" But we shouldn't, hence the parceling out of said pastries.
We are in the season of Jewish Holidays, so I don;t expect to poke my head above water again for a few weeks. Happy Jewish New Year to you :)
Sunday, September 2, 2007
I Want My Mommy
I have had a sinus infection for a week. Well, I HAD a sinus infection 5 days ago when I went to the doctor. What I have NOW is something that sounds a lot like I have been smoking 2 packs a day of unfiltered Marlboros for the past 20 years. Seriously, I bet there are TB wards quieter than my bedroom at 2 am when a coughing fit hits.
Jack, of course, finds the various sounds Mommy is emitting hilarious. My pain brings him joy. What a little sadist. Osi, God bless him, has gotten up with Jack the last 2 days and has let me sleep in. Thank God tomorrow is a holiday and he told me he'd do the same then, too.
I have a curious habit of just wanting to stare at someone when I'm sick. Neither my mom or my husband find this amusing. Jack doesn't notice. The dog is usually passed out and, besides, she lacks the empathy gene. Seriously - try to cuddle with that damn dog when you're sick and she will sigh deeply as if making a plea to the heavens "Why, God? Why must she constantly touch me?" My dog has issues, but that is for another post.
After a week moving through what I like to call the Sputum Spectrum, I seem t be stuck on a particularly unpleasant variation that should NOT be coming from my lungs after 5 days on antibiotics. I am reminded of the Friends episode where Pheobe has her "sexy cold voice." Only I tend to sounds more like Marge Simpson's sisters these days.
Bottom line: I want my Mommy. I want her to make me soup and let me lay in the big bed and watch TV all day. Also, I'd like to stare at her for no reason. I bet she'd let me.
Jack, of course, finds the various sounds Mommy is emitting hilarious. My pain brings him joy. What a little sadist. Osi, God bless him, has gotten up with Jack the last 2 days and has let me sleep in. Thank God tomorrow is a holiday and he told me he'd do the same then, too.
I have a curious habit of just wanting to stare at someone when I'm sick. Neither my mom or my husband find this amusing. Jack doesn't notice. The dog is usually passed out and, besides, she lacks the empathy gene. Seriously - try to cuddle with that damn dog when you're sick and she will sigh deeply as if making a plea to the heavens "Why, God? Why must she constantly touch me?" My dog has issues, but that is for another post.
After a week moving through what I like to call the Sputum Spectrum, I seem t be stuck on a particularly unpleasant variation that should NOT be coming from my lungs after 5 days on antibiotics. I am reminded of the Friends episode where Pheobe has her "sexy cold voice." Only I tend to sounds more like Marge Simpson's sisters these days.
Bottom line: I want my Mommy. I want her to make me soup and let me lay in the big bed and watch TV all day. Also, I'd like to stare at her for no reason. I bet she'd let me.
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Sara Strikes Again
Warning: Pure rant follows.
Is there no end to this woman's thoughtlessness? Apparently not. As predicted, we see about as much of said Inlaw From Hell as we did when we lived in Westerville. I think Osi's hopes were up that once we moved within 6 blocks of her, she would take more interest in a relationship- both with us and Jack. Riiiight. Self-involved people don't care if you move in next door, Sweety.
Osi decided to "pop over" to Sara's for a visit today - since we are rarely, if ever, invited. I like the element of surprise as much as the next gal - but only good surprises. He had heard rumor that she was making a favorite lunch of his (OK, and mine) this afternoon. Since we couldn't score an invite, we decided to crash. Bad idea.
Apparently in lieu of inviting us, she had invited a whole lot of Orthodox buddies over for quality time. We sat in the living room for 5 minutes while they ate before I had to leave or something really bad was going to happen. I left with Jack without a word. Osi make some excuse and he bolted too. It is rare that I am pissed into silence. But I don;t think I ahve felt this much of an outsider since about 7th grade.
Yes, we crashed the party, so THEY should be the ones pissed. Here's my take:
Osi wants so badly for the families to be close. They won't eat at our house, so we have to rely on invitations from them to get together. Osi, apparently, was sick of waiting. To know that we aren't geting the invitations, but that her religious buddies are, really hurts. It's like the minute we got engaged, Sara believes Osi is no longer a "good Jew" and so has as little to do with us as possible. The only thing worse than getting hurt yourself is watching someone you love get hurt.
I was really sick 2 weeks ago and, out of desperation, asked Sara to com stay with Jack for a few hours. BIG mistake (again). Now I feel indebted, she feels like the hero and I want to stick a fork in my eyeball rather than spend one minute more in her presence. Think I've made my feelings about her clear?
Is there no end to this woman's thoughtlessness? Apparently not. As predicted, we see about as much of said Inlaw From Hell as we did when we lived in Westerville. I think Osi's hopes were up that once we moved within 6 blocks of her, she would take more interest in a relationship- both with us and Jack. Riiiight. Self-involved people don't care if you move in next door, Sweety.
Osi decided to "pop over" to Sara's for a visit today - since we are rarely, if ever, invited. I like the element of surprise as much as the next gal - but only good surprises. He had heard rumor that she was making a favorite lunch of his (OK, and mine) this afternoon. Since we couldn't score an invite, we decided to crash. Bad idea.
Apparently in lieu of inviting us, she had invited a whole lot of Orthodox buddies over for quality time. We sat in the living room for 5 minutes while they ate before I had to leave or something really bad was going to happen. I left with Jack without a word. Osi make some excuse and he bolted too. It is rare that I am pissed into silence. But I don;t think I ahve felt this much of an outsider since about 7th grade.
Yes, we crashed the party, so THEY should be the ones pissed. Here's my take:
Osi wants so badly for the families to be close. They won't eat at our house, so we have to rely on invitations from them to get together. Osi, apparently, was sick of waiting. To know that we aren't geting the invitations, but that her religious buddies are, really hurts. It's like the minute we got engaged, Sara believes Osi is no longer a "good Jew" and so has as little to do with us as possible. The only thing worse than getting hurt yourself is watching someone you love get hurt.
I was really sick 2 weeks ago and, out of desperation, asked Sara to com stay with Jack for a few hours. BIG mistake (again). Now I feel indebted, she feels like the hero and I want to stick a fork in my eyeball rather than spend one minute more in her presence. Think I've made my feelings about her clear?
Friday, August 17, 2007
Big Day at Chez Zimmer
Well, my friends, it has been a very interesting 24 hours.
Let us start with the fact that J has gotten into the pattern of waking up in the middle of the night for anywhere between 2-3 hours straight. He screams bloody murder (if he could talk, that is what he'd be screaming, anyway) if you leave him alone. While I am completely fine with letting the little Banshee scream himself hoarse, Osi can't take it. So our nights have turned into 3 a.m. arguments about how to handle The Beast. Needless to say, no one is getting any sleep.
The Detroit Crazies rolled into town yesterday, too. We went over to take the girls' their (purchased out of guilt) birthday presents and give Shawna some clothes for the ever-expanding baby, Schmuel (yes, that is not a typo). In Target, shopping for said gifts, I found myself thinking "Well, I like the $15 worth, but definitely NOT $25 worth." Surely, I am going to hell. We are signed up for another "family dinner" on Tuesday. As Stimpy so eloquently stated: "Oh Joy."
Now, let's move to the fact that we found out today that the JCC pre-school finally has room for Jack. He starts August 27 - TEN DAYS. That is not enough time for me to get my head around it. I see Tuesdays will be my "Julie, can we go drink at lunch" days. Julie's daughter Chelsea is also at the JCC, but on Mondays and Tuesdays (J will go Tues and Thurs). Here's the thing: J is a pretty well-behaved kid. He doesn't hit, bite or scream (any more than the usual 2 year old on that last one). I am scared that my nice boy is going to hang with some mean kids and either pick up bad habits or get bullied. OY, Motherhood!
FINALLY, I am in charge of a 40 person dinner tonight at Temple Israel. No, you didn't miss the conversion announcement - I'm still not Jewish. But I have apparently been promoted to VP of marketing in Sisterhood with plans to be co-president in 2 years. Again, the Shiksa will be running the Temple Israel Sisterhood. I find this both highly amusing and more than a little terrifying. The dinner tonight is especially for non-Jewish partners and recent converts, so i guess it makes sense that I am in charge. It is in 3 hours and I still don't have remarks prepared.
Oh, also, my whole family is descending upon me tomorrow night for a football game (GO BROWNS!). Fun, but stressful.
OK - how is everyone else's week shaping up?
AAAARRRRGGGHHHHHHHhhhhhhhh......
Let us start with the fact that J has gotten into the pattern of waking up in the middle of the night for anywhere between 2-3 hours straight. He screams bloody murder (if he could talk, that is what he'd be screaming, anyway) if you leave him alone. While I am completely fine with letting the little Banshee scream himself hoarse, Osi can't take it. So our nights have turned into 3 a.m. arguments about how to handle The Beast. Needless to say, no one is getting any sleep.
The Detroit Crazies rolled into town yesterday, too. We went over to take the girls' their (purchased out of guilt) birthday presents and give Shawna some clothes for the ever-expanding baby, Schmuel (yes, that is not a typo). In Target, shopping for said gifts, I found myself thinking "Well, I like the $15 worth, but definitely NOT $25 worth." Surely, I am going to hell. We are signed up for another "family dinner" on Tuesday. As Stimpy so eloquently stated: "Oh Joy."
Now, let's move to the fact that we found out today that the JCC pre-school finally has room for Jack. He starts August 27 - TEN DAYS. That is not enough time for me to get my head around it. I see Tuesdays will be my "Julie, can we go drink at lunch" days. Julie's daughter Chelsea is also at the JCC, but on Mondays and Tuesdays (J will go Tues and Thurs). Here's the thing: J is a pretty well-behaved kid. He doesn't hit, bite or scream (any more than the usual 2 year old on that last one). I am scared that my nice boy is going to hang with some mean kids and either pick up bad habits or get bullied. OY, Motherhood!
FINALLY, I am in charge of a 40 person dinner tonight at Temple Israel. No, you didn't miss the conversion announcement - I'm still not Jewish. But I have apparently been promoted to VP of marketing in Sisterhood with plans to be co-president in 2 years. Again, the Shiksa will be running the Temple Israel Sisterhood. I find this both highly amusing and more than a little terrifying. The dinner tonight is especially for non-Jewish partners and recent converts, so i guess it makes sense that I am in charge. It is in 3 hours and I still don't have remarks prepared.
Oh, also, my whole family is descending upon me tomorrow night for a football game (GO BROWNS!). Fun, but stressful.
OK - how is everyone else's week shaping up?
AAAARRRRGGGHHHHHHHhhhhhhhh......
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
Tough Call
I got called back to the Builder's Exchange for a second interview. It was scheduled for 4:45 today.
You'll notce I said "was" scheduled. After reading the job description carefully, I realized about 50% of my time was going to spent on student outreach - an area I have less than zero interest in. I didn't want to waste their time or mine, so I cancelled the interview.
I've been having a hard time in the last week deciding whether my ambivalence about the job was because I really didn't like the job or rather I am terrified of going back to work and making this particular job the scapegoat. After studying the job description though, it is definitely the former. I don't like many other kids other than my own. A select few, but not many. So the thought of spending entire days with other people's kids does not thrill me.
So I am back on the hunt. I know I want an association gig, but those are slim pickins'. I do have a lunch scheduled with my former CEO on the 30th - those are alwys good for a) a laugh and b) thanking God that I no longer work for him :)
You'll notce I said "was" scheduled. After reading the job description carefully, I realized about 50% of my time was going to spent on student outreach - an area I have less than zero interest in. I didn't want to waste their time or mine, so I cancelled the interview.
I've been having a hard time in the last week deciding whether my ambivalence about the job was because I really didn't like the job or rather I am terrified of going back to work and making this particular job the scapegoat. After studying the job description though, it is definitely the former. I don't like many other kids other than my own. A select few, but not many. So the thought of spending entire days with other people's kids does not thrill me.
So I am back on the hunt. I know I want an association gig, but those are slim pickins'. I do have a lunch scheduled with my former CEO on the 30th - those are alwys good for a) a laugh and b) thanking God that I no longer work for him :)
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
Party Planning for the Masses
Even after last year's labor intensive birthday invitations and 7-story cake, I find myself looking forward to planning Jack's second birthday. I believe - no, I KNOW - we are going with a musical theme. The way the child loves to dance, I want to throw him a party he will actually enjoy.
I've committed to making the invites once again. Crazy, I know, considering the excellent choices at Target and Hallmark. I am still suffering from a lingering case of "I am a stay at home mom and, so, I WILL be Martha Stewart" syndrome. Anyone who has been to my house knows I am not much of a housekeeper, so I have to make it up somewhere.
And now for something completely over the top: I believe Marc "The Marvelous Toy" Rossio will entertain the 8-10 kids at the party. It seems completely exorbitant, but Jack loves him and maybe he won't anymore next year. It seems completely ludicrous to me that I am even considering entertainment for a 2-year-old's party. Anyone else?
Anywho, I'll start making the invites in the next week or so. Expect yours soon!
I've committed to making the invites once again. Crazy, I know, considering the excellent choices at Target and Hallmark. I am still suffering from a lingering case of "I am a stay at home mom and, so, I WILL be Martha Stewart" syndrome. Anyone who has been to my house knows I am not much of a housekeeper, so I have to make it up somewhere.
And now for something completely over the top: I believe Marc "The Marvelous Toy" Rossio will entertain the 8-10 kids at the party. It seems completely exorbitant, but Jack loves him and maybe he won't anymore next year. It seems completely ludicrous to me that I am even considering entertainment for a 2-year-old's party. Anyone else?
Anywho, I'll start making the invites in the next week or so. Expect yours soon!
Friday, July 27, 2007
The Interview
On Wednesday, I had my first interview since my application to re-enter the wacky world of the OSCPA. It went well, I think. I was there for over 90 minutes, which is usually a good sign. The interviewer gave every indication that I was a strong candidate and that I had the skills they were looking for.
The job, however, includes fundraising. To me, fundraising = telemarketing. If I get called back for a second interview, I'll ask for a percentage of what time is spent on fundraising (getting sponsorships for events).
I am wondering, though, if this is an advanced case of cold feet. Will I find something wrong with every job I interview for? Am I just afraid of going back? What about Jack?
Ug. I would like to have an Eternally Spotless Mind right now.
The job, however, includes fundraising. To me, fundraising = telemarketing. If I get called back for a second interview, I'll ask for a percentage of what time is spent on fundraising (getting sponsorships for events).
I am wondering, though, if this is an advanced case of cold feet. Will I find something wrong with every job I interview for? Am I just afraid of going back? What about Jack?
Ug. I would like to have an Eternally Spotless Mind right now.
Sunday, July 15, 2007
Thank God for Good Days
Today was a Good Day. I capitalize it because, in my world, they seem to happen so rarely.
Osi let me sleep in. After I got up and fed Jack lunch, both boys (both big and little) went down for a nap. This allowed me time to take a shower in peace.
I admit that my most favorite 45 seconds of the day is the time I spend washing my hair. I like the scalp massage, although not as good as the one at the hair salon, and the suds in my ears drowns out all the other noise. I do, however, still have the raucous to-do list monologue running in my head. As long is it is just that one stream of consciousness, though, it passes as silence. It is fantastic. Also, my shampoo smells really good. But I digress...
I managed to pack J's bag for our afternoon outing to the Westerville Arts Fest, which ROCKED, and to Mandie and Phil's new place, which also ROCKED, perhaps even harder. It was quality family time all around. J and Osi were both in good moods for most of the day, which means, so was . That in itself is a rare event in our world :)
I also had time to make Monday's grocery list and pull coupons. I whole day in advance! Isn't that productive? What a fabulous day. AND - tomorrow is a Stephanie Day. BONUS!
Osi let me sleep in. After I got up and fed Jack lunch, both boys (both big and little) went down for a nap. This allowed me time to take a shower in peace.
I admit that my most favorite 45 seconds of the day is the time I spend washing my hair. I like the scalp massage, although not as good as the one at the hair salon, and the suds in my ears drowns out all the other noise. I do, however, still have the raucous to-do list monologue running in my head. As long is it is just that one stream of consciousness, though, it passes as silence. It is fantastic. Also, my shampoo smells really good. But I digress...
I managed to pack J's bag for our afternoon outing to the Westerville Arts Fest, which ROCKED, and to Mandie and Phil's new place, which also ROCKED, perhaps even harder. It was quality family time all around. J and Osi were both in good moods for most of the day, which means, so was . That in itself is a rare event in our world :)
I also had time to make Monday's grocery list and pull coupons. I whole day in advance! Isn't that productive? What a fabulous day. AND - tomorrow is a Stephanie Day. BONUS!
Monday, July 9, 2007
Hi Ho, Hi Ho, It's Back to Work I Go...
It has been a long time coming, but I have finally made the definitive decision to get back to work. Not just the daily grind of raising a toddler and running a house, but to work outside of the home.
I have been kicking this around for, literally, months. I know what I need to do, now I just need to DO IT. I sent a resume out today to the Builders Exchange, for a job I know I am qualified for. I'd be working alongside a former boss of mine who is funny (loud) and smart. I am going to keep sending resumes until someone hires me. Because I was damn good at what I did and, I am guessing, still am.
This brings us to child care. I am absolutely paralyzed. The Goddard School is opening a branch 4 blocks from Osi's office. It is owned by the same people who owned the one we liked in Westerville. Excellent. All of their teachers either have degrees or are working toward them. Good. This seems waaaayyyy too easy. Certainly we won't find a center we like on the first try, right?
I know I want a center environment because Jack needs other kids at this point and, well, Osi and I have no intention of providing him with any extra playmates (other than Frannie).
The fear of placing him in someone else's care, returning to work from which I've been absent for 2 years, to an environment I will not know and with people who all know each other - that all scares the bejeezus out of me. Individually, those things all scare the bejeezus out of me. Collectively, they are like a panic attack staring me down, man.
I have been kicking this around for, literally, months. I know what I need to do, now I just need to DO IT. I sent a resume out today to the Builders Exchange, for a job I know I am qualified for. I'd be working alongside a former boss of mine who is funny (loud) and smart. I am going to keep sending resumes until someone hires me. Because I was damn good at what I did and, I am guessing, still am.
This brings us to child care. I am absolutely paralyzed. The Goddard School is opening a branch 4 blocks from Osi's office. It is owned by the same people who owned the one we liked in Westerville. Excellent. All of their teachers either have degrees or are working toward them. Good. This seems waaaayyyy too easy. Certainly we won't find a center we like on the first try, right?
I know I want a center environment because Jack needs other kids at this point and, well, Osi and I have no intention of providing him with any extra playmates (other than Frannie).
The fear of placing him in someone else's care, returning to work from which I've been absent for 2 years, to an environment I will not know and with people who all know each other - that all scares the bejeezus out of me. Individually, those things all scare the bejeezus out of me. Collectively, they are like a panic attack staring me down, man.
Monday, June 18, 2007
A Week Full of Dread
I have been nabbed. Caught without a good excuse not to have dinner at the SIL's house this coming Sunday. She called Friday and invited us for that night. Luckily, because they eat so late on Fridays, I had an easy excuse - Jack goes to bed kind of early. But Sunday, Oy, Sunday will involve the entire mishpocha (family for all you non-Yiddish speakers out there).
Oh yes, the Detroit Crazies will be in town. This is my nephew, who is my age, his wife, and three kids - ages five to newborn. They are also devoutly Orthodox in their Judaism. My nephew has taken it to a whole new level. Fanaticism is what i choose to call it. He calls it something else altogether. Either way, being raised Catholic, it makes me incredibly uncomfortable to know that he thinks I am the devil incarnate.
I consider myself a fairly open-minded person. So radicals or extremists of any sort make me extremely uncomfortable. I try to open my mind to many different points of view. I know that these people believe their way is the only way - with no room even for discussion - and that makes me twitch. I am unsure how I became related to one of them. I shudder at the thought of sharing a meal with one of them (the wife and kids aren't as bad...yet) on Sunday. I don't believe in that kind of single-mindedness. I don't want to be around it and I don't want J exposed to it. How do explain that to your family? Especially when they'll see it as anit-semitism when it is actually anti-single-mindenessism.
That's a toughy.
It's Monday now. Is it too early to call in sick for this shindig?
Oh yes, the Detroit Crazies will be in town. This is my nephew, who is my age, his wife, and three kids - ages five to newborn. They are also devoutly Orthodox in their Judaism. My nephew has taken it to a whole new level. Fanaticism is what i choose to call it. He calls it something else altogether. Either way, being raised Catholic, it makes me incredibly uncomfortable to know that he thinks I am the devil incarnate.
I consider myself a fairly open-minded person. So radicals or extremists of any sort make me extremely uncomfortable. I try to open my mind to many different points of view. I know that these people believe their way is the only way - with no room even for discussion - and that makes me twitch. I am unsure how I became related to one of them. I shudder at the thought of sharing a meal with one of them (the wife and kids aren't as bad...yet) on Sunday. I don't believe in that kind of single-mindedness. I don't want to be around it and I don't want J exposed to it. How do explain that to your family? Especially when they'll see it as anit-semitism when it is actually anti-single-mindenessism.
That's a toughy.
It's Monday now. Is it too early to call in sick for this shindig?
Monday, June 11, 2007
Slushee Addiction
I have developed a truly unhealthy addiction to Sonic. The food is relatively tasty and reasonably priced. The tater tots are pretty divine, if they are fresh. But let me get to my particular obsession: slushees.
Not only do they have regular slushes, but they have cream slushes. These do not seem to entail any ice cream or any added milk product, but I am TOTALLY committed to further research on the topic. Now, on top of the regular flavors, you can add flavors like vanilla or cherry to your slushes. Today I had a Blue Coconut vanilla slush. Man, it just sounds good, doesn't it?
When I say I have an unhealthy addiction, I mean that we ate there for dinner last night and I went through the drive through for lunch today. I actually thought about making another run this afternoon just for a slushee. Sad, isn't it? It is hot and they are frozen sweet, nectar from the gods, man!
As a final shout out to the goodness that is Sonic, America's Drive-in, it is incredibly cranky-toddler friendly. J had a long day of running errands and swimming pool goodness yesterday and was waaaay done. However, he was happy as that proverbial clam strapped into the ol' Graco Snug Ride in the back seat being fed popcorn chicken and frenchy fries and listening to Marc "the Marvelous Toy" Rossio on the CD player. Mommy and Daddy get to eat out and Jack is quiet. All hail Sonic.
Not only do they have regular slushes, but they have cream slushes. These do not seem to entail any ice cream or any added milk product, but I am TOTALLY committed to further research on the topic. Now, on top of the regular flavors, you can add flavors like vanilla or cherry to your slushes. Today I had a Blue Coconut vanilla slush. Man, it just sounds good, doesn't it?
When I say I have an unhealthy addiction, I mean that we ate there for dinner last night and I went through the drive through for lunch today. I actually thought about making another run this afternoon just for a slushee. Sad, isn't it? It is hot and they are frozen sweet, nectar from the gods, man!
As a final shout out to the goodness that is Sonic, America's Drive-in, it is incredibly cranky-toddler friendly. J had a long day of running errands and swimming pool goodness yesterday and was waaaay done. However, he was happy as that proverbial clam strapped into the ol' Graco Snug Ride in the back seat being fed popcorn chicken and frenchy fries and listening to Marc "the Marvelous Toy" Rossio on the CD player. Mommy and Daddy get to eat out and Jack is quiet. All hail Sonic.
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
Sitter Situation
Oh, how I long for the carefree days pre-baby - of just picking up and GOING wherever it is you wanted to go. It isn't even the amount of stuff that Little Dude comes with - we've managed to get that under control - it is the Sitter Situation.
I am going to tell you a secret, but you have to promise not to use it to your advantage or pass it on to any of your other Mommy friends. Because if you do, then my Sitter Situation will worsen. And you don't want that, do you? Because you and I, we're buddies.
The secret is this:
There is a FANTASTIC sitter service in Ohio called The Sitter Connection. I believe they started in Dayton, but now have franchises in Columbus and Toledo. Now, I get no money from promoting this service. Just the satisfaction of knowing that I may be helping other moms in my situation. Seriously, check them out.
The Sitter Connection uses local college gals, usually nursing or education majors, as contracted sitters. They do fingerprinting and background checks. I couldn't be that thorough if I were looking for a sitter myself! We've had excellent experiences with them and we've been using them since December.
If I have one gripe, it's that they don't have enough sitters to fill the demands of all of the hard-up Mommies like us out there. So, when they have no sitters for me on a Friday night, I am up the proverbial creek. That's how heavily I rely n them.
It is so difficult to find a good, caring, engaged sitter. All of the sitters we've used through the Connection have been just that. I recommend them. But, you know, not too highly, 'cause I'd like to leave the house once in a while too, you know.
I am going to tell you a secret, but you have to promise not to use it to your advantage or pass it on to any of your other Mommy friends. Because if you do, then my Sitter Situation will worsen. And you don't want that, do you? Because you and I, we're buddies.
The secret is this:
There is a FANTASTIC sitter service in Ohio called The Sitter Connection. I believe they started in Dayton, but now have franchises in Columbus and Toledo. Now, I get no money from promoting this service. Just the satisfaction of knowing that I may be helping other moms in my situation. Seriously, check them out.
The Sitter Connection uses local college gals, usually nursing or education majors, as contracted sitters. They do fingerprinting and background checks. I couldn't be that thorough if I were looking for a sitter myself! We've had excellent experiences with them and we've been using them since December.
If I have one gripe, it's that they don't have enough sitters to fill the demands of all of the hard-up Mommies like us out there. So, when they have no sitters for me on a Friday night, I am up the proverbial creek. That's how heavily I rely n them.
It is so difficult to find a good, caring, engaged sitter. All of the sitters we've used through the Connection have been just that. I recommend them. But, you know, not too highly, 'cause I'd like to leave the house once in a while too, you know.
Monday, June 4, 2007
Toddler Translator Needed
I frequently joke that J is the toddler that all the other mom's compare their kids to in order to make themselves feel better (or superior). I have also frequently said that I have awesome friends so none of them, surely, would be comparing their little darlings to Jack, developmentally, would they? Oh, I sure the heck am. Here's what I've come up with: Jack is the last to do everything.
Osi chalks it up to the fact that he was premature and also that, by nature, J seems like to sit back and take things in. While he is the last to start everything (crawling, walking) it takes him very little time to actually master it.
I'm not particularly worried about J being the last in his group of little buddies to talk, but it sure would be nice to have an affirmative answer when MY peer group's mothers ask "so is he saying anything yet?" I actually purchased him a t-shirt reading "I heard Einstein was a late talker" in order to get the theoretical last word in.
Right now, the nonsensical word "bup" seems to be the key to his universe. It started out meaning "up." I was thrilled that we seemed to finally have a word. Nope. It means everything now. It means up, down, open, close, dog, Cheezits and bink. Frustrating to us both. It reminds me of the Romanian acrobats at the circus. The ones that, to cue their partners to begin a stunt, shout "BUP" at one another. Bup is a constant in our home and I am sent scrambling, not unlike a Romanian acrobat, trying ti figure out what the heck it means.
Osi chalks it up to the fact that he was premature and also that, by nature, J seems like to sit back and take things in. While he is the last to start everything (crawling, walking) it takes him very little time to actually master it.
I'm not particularly worried about J being the last in his group of little buddies to talk, but it sure would be nice to have an affirmative answer when MY peer group's mothers ask "so is he saying anything yet?" I actually purchased him a t-shirt reading "I heard Einstein was a late talker" in order to get the theoretical last word in.
Right now, the nonsensical word "bup" seems to be the key to his universe. It started out meaning "up." I was thrilled that we seemed to finally have a word. Nope. It means everything now. It means up, down, open, close, dog, Cheezits and bink. Frustrating to us both. It reminds me of the Romanian acrobats at the circus. The ones that, to cue their partners to begin a stunt, shout "BUP" at one another. Bup is a constant in our home and I am sent scrambling, not unlike a Romanian acrobat, trying ti figure out what the heck it means.
Friday, June 1, 2007
What if the Hokey Pokey really IS what it's all about?
Many things were accomplished today! I am feeling oh so productive that I almost feel as if I have popped back into actual society.
Curtains were hung, decorative shelves were purchased and driven into the &*%$## plaster walls of this 80-year-old house (have I mentioned I miss drywall?), and a new sprayer nozzle has been attached to the hose because, in case you've missed it, I've become obsessed with not killing Rabbi Barney's flowers. Also, I had a mighty fine Big Gulp Slurpee - man, tasted like college.
So, Jack has officially started the temper tantrums that come with the Terrible Twos. I am impressed with the stomping and vocal range, but what really puts me over the edge is his recent addition to the mix of an "angry dance." (Nothing at all, by the way, like the Safety Dance, for those of you who remember it, but I digress...) It actually looks alarmingly like the Hokey Pokey. Well, the "turn yourself around" part, anyway.
Jack does NOT get that it is impossible to take someone's demands for cookies or Backyardigans or whatever seriously when one is spinning themselves into the floor. I try hard not to laugh, but little dude gets me every time. Let me explain that the dance begins with the customary flapping of arms. That is then accompanied by the "I'm Angry" yell and the Hokey Pokey is actually the grand finale. What can I say, the kid is a fan of the Big Finish. Perhaps it is just a sign that show business is in his future.
Curtains were hung, decorative shelves were purchased and driven into the &*%$## plaster walls of this 80-year-old house (have I mentioned I miss drywall?), and a new sprayer nozzle has been attached to the hose because, in case you've missed it, I've become obsessed with not killing Rabbi Barney's flowers. Also, I had a mighty fine Big Gulp Slurpee - man, tasted like college.
So, Jack has officially started the temper tantrums that come with the Terrible Twos. I am impressed with the stomping and vocal range, but what really puts me over the edge is his recent addition to the mix of an "angry dance." (Nothing at all, by the way, like the Safety Dance, for those of you who remember it, but I digress...) It actually looks alarmingly like the Hokey Pokey. Well, the "turn yourself around" part, anyway.
Jack does NOT get that it is impossible to take someone's demands for cookies or Backyardigans or whatever seriously when one is spinning themselves into the floor. I try hard not to laugh, but little dude gets me every time. Let me explain that the dance begins with the customary flapping of arms. That is then accompanied by the "I'm Angry" yell and the Hokey Pokey is actually the grand finale. What can I say, the kid is a fan of the Big Finish. Perhaps it is just a sign that show business is in his future.
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
It's a Beautiful Day in the Neghborhood
Wow. That was FAST. In five days flat, I've turned into one of those women who is out in her (tasteful) PJs at 8 a.m. watering her landscaping. Ask anyone who knows me, or who knew me at my old house, and they will tell you that I hate gardening. I hate it with such a fiery passion that my best friend once gave me a yearlong gift certificate for her gardening services for my birthday and it was seriously like the best gift ever.
But I bought this house from a Rabbi with a green thumb. And I know that Rabbi. And the Rabbi stops by frequently. And the Rabbi saw his precious flowers dying. And he guilted me the way only a Rabbi can. Am I going to be the one to let his pansies commit hari kari on the front porch? Hell no! No way am I going to squeak by with good deeds and truthfulness only to get to the Pearly Gates and have Ol' Pete tell me that I would have been golden except that I let the Rabbi's posies go to pot. Nosiree. My butt is out there in the A.M. drowning the damn things just to be sure.
Also, I am a walker now. My poor, obese dog has no idea what hit her. "WHAT?!," she thinks, " We are walking again? Surely, Mommy, you cannot be serious. We walked yesterday. " The poor thing will have to beg twice as many Cheerios off of the toddler just to maintain fighting weight.
Still, I have nothing on the gal that goes past my window every morning with her dog on rollerblades. To clarify, SHE is on rollerblades. Not the dog. Although, that would be mighty impressive and I would not put it past the overachievers in this neighborhood. I love the new digs, but this place gives a whole new meaning to keeping up with the Jonses.
But I bought this house from a Rabbi with a green thumb. And I know that Rabbi. And the Rabbi stops by frequently. And the Rabbi saw his precious flowers dying. And he guilted me the way only a Rabbi can. Am I going to be the one to let his pansies commit hari kari on the front porch? Hell no! No way am I going to squeak by with good deeds and truthfulness only to get to the Pearly Gates and have Ol' Pete tell me that I would have been golden except that I let the Rabbi's posies go to pot. Nosiree. My butt is out there in the A.M. drowning the damn things just to be sure.
Also, I am a walker now. My poor, obese dog has no idea what hit her. "WHAT?!," she thinks, " We are walking again? Surely, Mommy, you cannot be serious. We walked yesterday. " The poor thing will have to beg twice as many Cheerios off of the toddler just to maintain fighting weight.
Still, I have nothing on the gal that goes past my window every morning with her dog on rollerblades. To clarify, SHE is on rollerblades. Not the dog. Although, that would be mighty impressive and I would not put it past the overachievers in this neighborhood. I love the new digs, but this place gives a whole new meaning to keeping up with the Jonses.
Monday, May 28, 2007
We're In!
Oy Gevalt! We survived Black Thursday. May I say publicly and profusely that I could not have done this move without Erin - who watched Jack from 8:30- a.m. until 4:30 p.m. - and Ellen - who took the dinner shift. I am forever in their debt.
We are in the house and even managed to get most of the boxes unpacked. There are some, of course, that will remained packed, shoved to the dark recesses of the basement until Jack discovers them when moving us into "The Home." But those are his problem now, baby! There are pictures on the walls, clothes in the closets and, as of this afternoon, food in the fridge. Lord help me, I've become a WalMart shopper. Only because the Krogers on this end of town are super scary. You could not pay me enough cash money to step foot in the one on Alum Creek after sundown.
Friday night turned into an impromptu party. I am not exactly sure how, but it was a hoot, complete with the house's former owners. Mom, Dad, and my sister Melissa and her family were here unpacking. We had told JD and Ellen to stop by and we'd grill up something for dinner. Then Gary and Judi called to see if they could bring dinner over. Since we were already grilling, we said sure. Then the Brickners showed up. We had a 14 person makeshift housewarming and it was really very cool. We still have to schedule a date for the actual party.
OK, this post is boring even me today, so I'll post more when I am more rested and have something witty to say :) Suffice it to say that you should all stop over and say hello. We miss you!
We are in the house and even managed to get most of the boxes unpacked. There are some, of course, that will remained packed, shoved to the dark recesses of the basement until Jack discovers them when moving us into "The Home." But those are his problem now, baby! There are pictures on the walls, clothes in the closets and, as of this afternoon, food in the fridge. Lord help me, I've become a WalMart shopper. Only because the Krogers on this end of town are super scary. You could not pay me enough cash money to step foot in the one on Alum Creek after sundown.
Friday night turned into an impromptu party. I am not exactly sure how, but it was a hoot, complete with the house's former owners. Mom, Dad, and my sister Melissa and her family were here unpacking. We had told JD and Ellen to stop by and we'd grill up something for dinner. Then Gary and Judi called to see if they could bring dinner over. Since we were already grilling, we said sure. Then the Brickners showed up. We had a 14 person makeshift housewarming and it was really very cool. We still have to schedule a date for the actual party.
OK, this post is boring even me today, so I'll post more when I am more rested and have something witty to say :) Suffice it to say that you should all stop over and say hello. We miss you!
Monday, May 21, 2007
This is what she has been so busy doing...
I have to take time out of packing today to post because if I don't I may actually drive to my SIL's house and cause her serious bodily harm.
Throughout the past two weeks my friends and, most recently, my parents, have been busting their collective humps to help us with our impending move. Above, you'll find what Sara has been doing.
Not once has she called to inquire how the packing has been going, if she could keep J for an hour or two so I could get some stuff done, if we could use any help at all. I thought - stupidly, apparently - that this is what family was supposed to do. I thought we were all supposed to pitch in for one another when the going gets tough. Not go out to a farm and flipping four-wheel!
Also in the past two weeks I have become so very appreciative of the friends I have. The cobbled-together links from our collective pasts that we now call "family." This whole experience has caused us to take a step back, inhale sharlply and go "whoa." We are amazed at the generosity of those who are constantly offering time and help, even though they are busy and have little ones of their own.
The situation with Sara - and Naomi, since she is in town too - is heartbreaking. I thought I was beyond getting my feelings hurt by these insensitive people. But they keep coming up with new, mystifying ways to crap all over Osi and I don't know how much longer I can just sit by silently and watch it happen. You can only watch someone you love get hurt so many times before you come out, guns blazing.
So I hope Sara is enjoying her joyride. Because she is riding out of our lives for good. I just wish she didn't look so damn happy about it.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Am I Cut Out for This?
Am I the only one who wonders, on a regular basis, if I am cut out for this Mommy gig?
J and I went to Polaris today to pick out a birthday gift for Auntie Naomi. While Jack is all about endless laps around the perimeter of the mall, as soon as we actually enter a store, the shrieking begins. I can't blame him, he is a man after all and shopping is not in his genes. Do MOGs have it any better, I wonder? Do girls sit quietly in their strollers while pondering the endless outfit combinations at Banana Republic? But I digress...
After quickly deciding that a gift certificate was going to have to do, I bravely - in hindsight we'll edit that to insanely - headed to the food court. I have noticed lately that I eat like a homeless person. While trying to feed or entertain J, I stuff whatever is in front of me in my face as if I haven't seen food in weeks and may never, in fact, see it again. This from a gal that, because I am "fluffy, " used to take great pains to eat daintily and in small portions so that people around me would gasp and wonder aloud "Why, how did she get to be so large? She eats so little and with such good manners?" Now I just have the crazed look of a woman who would like to devour 3 bites of gyro while it is still just a little warm. Needless to say, the shrieking continued at the food court.
We completely bypassed the germ pit. There were way too many kids in there today and J was already 9/10 of the way to Meltdown Mode, so why add that last tenth? On our way to the car, I passed many other mommies. I looked at them. I watched them. I searched for any sign that they, too, were questioning if they might not be cut out for this.
The mother of three who sat nursing on a bench in the middle of the mall had a far away look in her eye, but I have seen the look on many nursing moms. I think that is Milk Bliss. Speed Walk Mom seemed content to barrel through the crowd and shed the pounds, her toddler happily munching Goldfish crackers (whole grain, I'm sure). Other mommies in the germ pit were either watching their kids play or playing right along with them or making sure they weren't being assaulted by the kids whose moms were reading.
None of them seemed to have the bags under their eyes that they could feel. None of them seemed to be struggling to be putting one foot in front of the other. Not one of them seemed to want to plead with heir child "Please if you are just quiet for 5 more minutes Mommy swears she will not go ballistic and have her own meltdown right here in the mall."
Inevitably, once the cool breeze of freedom hit J's face in the parking lot, he was fine. Dude just does not like to shop. It is my fault for trying to make a shopper out of him. So as he giggled and danced in the back seat on the way home, I regrouped. Maybe I am cut out for the Mommy gig. Maybe it's the shopper role I'd better rethink :)
J and I went to Polaris today to pick out a birthday gift for Auntie Naomi. While Jack is all about endless laps around the perimeter of the mall, as soon as we actually enter a store, the shrieking begins. I can't blame him, he is a man after all and shopping is not in his genes. Do MOGs have it any better, I wonder? Do girls sit quietly in their strollers while pondering the endless outfit combinations at Banana Republic? But I digress...
After quickly deciding that a gift certificate was going to have to do, I bravely - in hindsight we'll edit that to insanely - headed to the food court. I have noticed lately that I eat like a homeless person. While trying to feed or entertain J, I stuff whatever is in front of me in my face as if I haven't seen food in weeks and may never, in fact, see it again. This from a gal that, because I am "fluffy, " used to take great pains to eat daintily and in small portions so that people around me would gasp and wonder aloud "Why, how did she get to be so large? She eats so little and with such good manners?" Now I just have the crazed look of a woman who would like to devour 3 bites of gyro while it is still just a little warm. Needless to say, the shrieking continued at the food court.
We completely bypassed the germ pit. There were way too many kids in there today and J was already 9/10 of the way to Meltdown Mode, so why add that last tenth? On our way to the car, I passed many other mommies. I looked at them. I watched them. I searched for any sign that they, too, were questioning if they might not be cut out for this.
The mother of three who sat nursing on a bench in the middle of the mall had a far away look in her eye, but I have seen the look on many nursing moms. I think that is Milk Bliss. Speed Walk Mom seemed content to barrel through the crowd and shed the pounds, her toddler happily munching Goldfish crackers (whole grain, I'm sure). Other mommies in the germ pit were either watching their kids play or playing right along with them or making sure they weren't being assaulted by the kids whose moms were reading.
None of them seemed to have the bags under their eyes that they could feel. None of them seemed to be struggling to be putting one foot in front of the other. Not one of them seemed to want to plead with heir child "Please if you are just quiet for 5 more minutes Mommy swears she will not go ballistic and have her own meltdown right here in the mall."
Inevitably, once the cool breeze of freedom hit J's face in the parking lot, he was fine. Dude just does not like to shop. It is my fault for trying to make a shopper out of him. So as he giggled and danced in the back seat on the way home, I regrouped. Maybe I am cut out for the Mommy gig. Maybe it's the shopper role I'd better rethink :)
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Seven Days and Counting...
Remember that May 1 post where I wandered aimlessly around the house not knowing what to pack? We have officially hit the other end of the spectrum. While J was taking his 90 minute morning nap, I managed to pack up a good deal of the kitchen. Once he awoke, I moved upstairs. My closet is now bare as well as all but 2 drawers (hey, a gal needs pjs and, well, drawers - TMI?). Is it wrong to want a box big enough to just dump ALL of the remaining crap into and then just sort it out at the new place?
The poor dog is getting anxious, too. Fran wanders around, following me from room to room with a look of "Hey, what are you doing with that?" on her face. She wants to know why everything is going into the apparently tasty brown boxes. With the amount of boxes in our home at this point, I am amazed there is anything left to pack. I've created a bit of a claustrophobic maze for us into which both the toddler and the dog occasionally disappear.
On the bright side of life, I have procured a summer babysitter to come every Monday from 1-5 and every Friday from 9-5. You can't see me, gentle reader, but rest assured I am in my chair this very moment dancing a jig. Stephanie will begin helping us out next Friday so that we can really unpack the heck out of the house. Jack loves her. We love her. She loves Jack. It is a lovefest all around. What a great situation to stumble upon! We're still hoping to get J into the JCC sometime soon to help with socialization, but this certainly will help me out in the next few months. Now, if only I could pay her extra to cram some of this stuff into boxes...
The poor dog is getting anxious, too. Fran wanders around, following me from room to room with a look of "Hey, what are you doing with that?" on her face. She wants to know why everything is going into the apparently tasty brown boxes. With the amount of boxes in our home at this point, I am amazed there is anything left to pack. I've created a bit of a claustrophobic maze for us into which both the toddler and the dog occasionally disappear.
On the bright side of life, I have procured a summer babysitter to come every Monday from 1-5 and every Friday from 9-5. You can't see me, gentle reader, but rest assured I am in my chair this very moment dancing a jig. Stephanie will begin helping us out next Friday so that we can really unpack the heck out of the house. Jack loves her. We love her. She loves Jack. It is a lovefest all around. What a great situation to stumble upon! We're still hoping to get J into the JCC sometime soon to help with socialization, but this certainly will help me out in the next few months. Now, if only I could pay her extra to cram some of this stuff into boxes...
Monday, May 14, 2007
Baby's First Shearing
Tired of the WrestleMania that takes place once a month in order to trim bangs and reveal J's ears, we finally enlisted a professional today. As The Hulk was not available, we tried Cookie Cutters haircuts (which I think has been sold to Snip, Buzz, Bangs) and had a good experience.
He got to sit in a little airplane peddle car, watch Baby Einstein (his preferred form of baby crack) and get bubbles blown at him from a machine. All good things, according to him. He was a trooper. It all went swimmingly until she whipped out the clippers. This is another place where MOGs (mothers of girls) may have it easier (also in the cute outfit buying department). No buzz clippers required, unless you've named your daughter Sinead or, more recently, Britney. Jack was not a fan. It involved head holding. It involved tears. I am happy to report, however, that no blood was shed. Not J's. not mine, not the stylist's.
What was lost, however, was a ton of hair. We could make Osi a darn fine toupee of luxurious, curly locks. What was also lost was any remaining look of a baby. He is, for better or worse, a toddler now. A big boy doing big boy things like getting a big boy haircut.
Wednesday, May 9, 2007
Fantastic Things (and a rant)
I have some fantastic friends. If you're reading this, you are probably one of them (or have wandered here randomly, so welcome). I mean some really fantastic friends. They give The Fantastic Four a run for their money insomuch as there are way more than four of them and also they have way better, and more practical, superpowers.
While spontaneously bursting into flame is always a crowd-pleaser, it has never talked me off the proverbial ledge like my friend Sandy has about a million times. There is a card I have purchased recently that simple says "You're a Human Sparkler, You Are." That completely sums up Sandy. She damn near literally lights up a room. If that isn't as close to the Human Torch as you can get without setting yourself ablaze, then I don't know what is.
And although super-human strength would be pretty cool (especially given the impending move), not even The Thing would have the emotional wherewithal to offer to babysit my child all day during said move plus her own two kids, like my buddy Erin. She'll get in there and do the physical and emotional heavy lifting with ya.
Naomi really is the modern day Wonder Woman. Between the job, from-scratch fantastic goodies, well-mannered and incredibly smart children and piercing, quick intellect and sense of humor herself, all she's missing are the fancy bracelets and the invisible jet.
I prefer to think of Jenny and I as the Wonder Twins. Besides claiming, in a fit of narcissism, that we are the funniest people we know, she gets me on a very visceral level. On a level that only those of a shared trauma (like surviving a busted magazine venture in the deep south) can. And man, lemme tell you, if I had to move into a commune with one other family (thus negating the general premise of a commune, as there'd only be two families) it would most definitely be the Fiore-Jensens. Plus, the Wonder Twins had that monkey Gleek. Y'all know how I loves the monkeys.
I marvel on a regular basis at all the Mandie has been able and continues to accomplish. Not only does she have the best sense of humor of anyone I know (meaning that she gets the political highbrow jokes but will guffaw with you over a good fart joke, too), but she is highly-educated, a fantastic mother with a beautiful family, working in a field that she loves and in the process of settling down in a great home. While the chick in Kill Bill seemed to have mad multi-tasking kick-butt skills, girlfriend has nothing on Mandie.
Ellen is absolutely my secret confidante mommy friend. I absolutely do not know what I would have done without her during the first year of Jack's life. I could, and still can, call her and say things like "So Jack fell off the bed yesterday" or "J ingested a package of staples" and she won't judge, gasp or call children's services. Also, she'll inject things into conversations so slyly funny that you'll laugh a) because they are so slyly funny and b) you now realize that she is so quick and witty and you are so slow and dumb. I don't have a super hero analogy for Ellen because she is so Zen, where action heroes are all chaos.
While I must to compare Cristal to Catwoman for her smooth moves and sleek va-va-voom that all of us frumpy mommies envy, she is no villain. I've always admired her ability to say what's on her mind, get results and have a smile on her face - all usually at the same time. Another one who is wickedly funny.
So, while these posts are usually full of complaints about the buggers who are buying our house, today I am giving props my friends, for whom I am and will always be, eternally grateful. However...
Here is the rant.
My sister-in-law Sara will never, ever make the list above. As I mentioned, Erin has offered to watch Jack the entire day while we move (Mandie and Ellen both offered shifts, too, God bless you!). All of these gals have kids. Sara has no kids. No job. Not a damn thing to do all day and lives 2 minutes from our new house. I am guessing she will be over there in my hair half the day on the day we move. When I mentioned needing help, she said she could watch him the day we closed, but not the day we moved, because a full day would "just be too much."
I understand J is a lot of energy. We purchased a gate for when we're over there. She has toys because she basically raises her 3 grandkids when they are there for extended stays (ages newborn, 3 and 5, but my toddler is TOO MUCH). Why couldn't she just help us out instead of us having to burden Erin? I dunno. I really don't. If I could eliminate this woman from my life, I would. It is stressing me out just writing about her, so I'll stop. Thanks for letting me rant, Oh Blog Universe...
While spontaneously bursting into flame is always a crowd-pleaser, it has never talked me off the proverbial ledge like my friend Sandy has about a million times. There is a card I have purchased recently that simple says "You're a Human Sparkler, You Are." That completely sums up Sandy. She damn near literally lights up a room. If that isn't as close to the Human Torch as you can get without setting yourself ablaze, then I don't know what is.
And although super-human strength would be pretty cool (especially given the impending move), not even The Thing would have the emotional wherewithal to offer to babysit my child all day during said move plus her own two kids, like my buddy Erin. She'll get in there and do the physical and emotional heavy lifting with ya.
Naomi really is the modern day Wonder Woman. Between the job, from-scratch fantastic goodies, well-mannered and incredibly smart children and piercing, quick intellect and sense of humor herself, all she's missing are the fancy bracelets and the invisible jet.
I prefer to think of Jenny and I as the Wonder Twins. Besides claiming, in a fit of narcissism, that we are the funniest people we know, she gets me on a very visceral level. On a level that only those of a shared trauma (like surviving a busted magazine venture in the deep south) can. And man, lemme tell you, if I had to move into a commune with one other family (thus negating the general premise of a commune, as there'd only be two families) it would most definitely be the Fiore-Jensens. Plus, the Wonder Twins had that monkey Gleek. Y'all know how I loves the monkeys.
I marvel on a regular basis at all the Mandie has been able and continues to accomplish. Not only does she have the best sense of humor of anyone I know (meaning that she gets the political highbrow jokes but will guffaw with you over a good fart joke, too), but she is highly-educated, a fantastic mother with a beautiful family, working in a field that she loves and in the process of settling down in a great home. While the chick in Kill Bill seemed to have mad multi-tasking kick-butt skills, girlfriend has nothing on Mandie.
Ellen is absolutely my secret confidante mommy friend. I absolutely do not know what I would have done without her during the first year of Jack's life. I could, and still can, call her and say things like "So Jack fell off the bed yesterday" or "J ingested a package of staples" and she won't judge, gasp or call children's services. Also, she'll inject things into conversations so slyly funny that you'll laugh a) because they are so slyly funny and b) you now realize that she is so quick and witty and you are so slow and dumb. I don't have a super hero analogy for Ellen because she is so Zen, where action heroes are all chaos.
While I must to compare Cristal to Catwoman for her smooth moves and sleek va-va-voom that all of us frumpy mommies envy, she is no villain. I've always admired her ability to say what's on her mind, get results and have a smile on her face - all usually at the same time. Another one who is wickedly funny.
So, while these posts are usually full of complaints about the buggers who are buying our house, today I am giving props my friends, for whom I am and will always be, eternally grateful. However...
Here is the rant.
My sister-in-law Sara will never, ever make the list above. As I mentioned, Erin has offered to watch Jack the entire day while we move (Mandie and Ellen both offered shifts, too, God bless you!). All of these gals have kids. Sara has no kids. No job. Not a damn thing to do all day and lives 2 minutes from our new house. I am guessing she will be over there in my hair half the day on the day we move. When I mentioned needing help, she said she could watch him the day we closed, but not the day we moved, because a full day would "just be too much."
I understand J is a lot of energy. We purchased a gate for when we're over there. She has toys because she basically raises her 3 grandkids when they are there for extended stays (ages newborn, 3 and 5, but my toddler is TOO MUCH). Why couldn't she just help us out instead of us having to burden Erin? I dunno. I really don't. If I could eliminate this woman from my life, I would. It is stressing me out just writing about her, so I'll stop. Thanks for letting me rant, Oh Blog Universe...
Friday, May 4, 2007
Our Basement is a Portal to Hell
I'll give the credit to the post title to my college roommate Naomi. But the fact remains that the home inspection report on our current death trap came back today and, apparently, the crawl space below our family room may very well be a portal into the afterlife.
We know that the folks buying the house are cash poor (hey, aren't we all?) because we negotiated with them on percentage, not price. Basically, they were worried about closing costs. They don't have the money for them. So, now the home inspection comes back and they want 6 windows replaced, and a new sump pump (which is crap, because ours works fine and we've never had water in the basement), the electrical box brought to code (AGAIN - screwed by Conrad! The little bastard totally should have caught that on OUR inspection!!!) and wood hauled out of the crawl space.
My father believes that all of this is a collective bargaining chip to get either the price lowered or money thrown at them. I am so emotionally through with this house that their ploy may very well work. Our relator is offering them $500 to take the house and leave us the hell alone. I am guessing this is phase 2 of negotiations. Erg. I hate this process. Have I mentioned how much I love the people from whom we are buying our house? We all agreed to play nice and make it easy on one another. The snarky little weasels buying this crap hole didn't get the memo.
My cure for all of this is to go to Erin's tomorrow and drink way too many Margaritas at her Fifth of May Celebration. I will continue my investigation as to whether she actually brought Phil back to Ohio with her, or if his existence is just an elaborate ruse. Then we will proceed to be home by 6 so that our tipsy butts can go out to celebrate Ellen's birthday. Ole'!
We know that the folks buying the house are cash poor (hey, aren't we all?) because we negotiated with them on percentage, not price. Basically, they were worried about closing costs. They don't have the money for them. So, now the home inspection comes back and they want 6 windows replaced, and a new sump pump (which is crap, because ours works fine and we've never had water in the basement), the electrical box brought to code (AGAIN - screwed by Conrad! The little bastard totally should have caught that on OUR inspection!!!) and wood hauled out of the crawl space.
My father believes that all of this is a collective bargaining chip to get either the price lowered or money thrown at them. I am so emotionally through with this house that their ploy may very well work. Our relator is offering them $500 to take the house and leave us the hell alone. I am guessing this is phase 2 of negotiations. Erg. I hate this process. Have I mentioned how much I love the people from whom we are buying our house? We all agreed to play nice and make it easy on one another. The snarky little weasels buying this crap hole didn't get the memo.
My cure for all of this is to go to Erin's tomorrow and drink way too many Margaritas at her Fifth of May Celebration. I will continue my investigation as to whether she actually brought Phil back to Ohio with her, or if his existence is just an elaborate ruse. Then we will proceed to be home by 6 so that our tipsy butts can go out to celebrate Ellen's birthday. Ole'!
Thursday, May 3, 2007
Que Sera Sera
I found out this afternoon that I am no longer a candidate for my old boss's job at the Society. That sucks. I have always said that if this was meant to be then it would be. It just didn't work out. However, if I couldn't get a job with people who know my strengths and have seen my best work, what chance do I have with those who don't know me?
Also, I am having a bit of SAHM panic. Every day I'm at home, I am thinking there is some young girl with a Norplant insert in her arm sitting in MY office getting MY paycheck. Yes, I realize that staying at home to raise J is a choice I made. I wouldn't change the choice. But I can't help thinking that if I had immediately gone back to work, that job would be mine with no questions asked. They wouldn't have even interviewed outside candidates. So, I am now worried about having to compete with people with unused birth canals for positions. Ug.
Actually, I am moving through the stages of grief - whatever those are - rather quickly. I did sadness and anger really fast. I skipped denial altogether. What is the phase where you want to egg the front of the building? Oh wait, I guess that's still a teeny bit of anger. Moving on...
Also, I am having a bit of SAHM panic. Every day I'm at home, I am thinking there is some young girl with a Norplant insert in her arm sitting in MY office getting MY paycheck. Yes, I realize that staying at home to raise J is a choice I made. I wouldn't change the choice. But I can't help thinking that if I had immediately gone back to work, that job would be mine with no questions asked. They wouldn't have even interviewed outside candidates. So, I am now worried about having to compete with people with unused birth canals for positions. Ug.
Actually, I am moving through the stages of grief - whatever those are - rather quickly. I did sadness and anger really fast. I skipped denial altogether. What is the phase where you want to egg the front of the building? Oh wait, I guess that's still a teeny bit of anger. Moving on...
Tuesday, May 1, 2007
What a Load of Crap...
Is it too late just to move out of our house and leave all of our stuff here? We've already decided that the "stuff" we have is just fine for this address but that the minute we move it to the new house it instantly becomes crap. So, really, the new people are better off with it. It's gold here.
Also, I don't want to pack it. It isn't that I don't want to pack it. It's that I don't know where to begin. Melissa came over to watch J today and I wandered around the house for 45 minutes peeking into every room thinking "Can I pack that? Hm , well, what if we need it?" At the end of almost an hour, my sister helpfully suggested that I might not have time to read two giant bookshelves worth of books in the next three weeks and that, perhaps, I might want to start there. Glad one of us has our head screwed on straight. She watched J for 5 hours today and I managed to pack up books, most of my winter clothes, the coat closet and some pots and pans. If I continue at this pace, we should be ready to move by February.
On the up side, our home inspection went exceedingly well. A HUGE thank you to Mandie and Phil for recommending Pillar to Post home inspection. If you ever use them, ask for Steve. As a bonus, he is also a professional trumpet player and a Barack Obama supporter. We have the inspection here tomorrow at 9 a.m. I am terrified that the inspector will announce that we have been living in a level of squalor not fit for rats and the potential buyers will run screaming from the deal. Did I mention I am not particularly a half-full kinda gal when it comes to luck? I guess we'll wait and see.
Also, I don't want to pack it. It isn't that I don't want to pack it. It's that I don't know where to begin. Melissa came over to watch J today and I wandered around the house for 45 minutes peeking into every room thinking "Can I pack that? Hm , well, what if we need it?" At the end of almost an hour, my sister helpfully suggested that I might not have time to read two giant bookshelves worth of books in the next three weeks and that, perhaps, I might want to start there. Glad one of us has our head screwed on straight. She watched J for 5 hours today and I managed to pack up books, most of my winter clothes, the coat closet and some pots and pans. If I continue at this pace, we should be ready to move by February.
On the up side, our home inspection went exceedingly well. A HUGE thank you to Mandie and Phil for recommending Pillar to Post home inspection. If you ever use them, ask for Steve. As a bonus, he is also a professional trumpet player and a Barack Obama supporter. We have the inspection here tomorrow at 9 a.m. I am terrified that the inspector will announce that we have been living in a level of squalor not fit for rats and the potential buyers will run screaming from the deal. Did I mention I am not particularly a half-full kinda gal when it comes to luck? I guess we'll wait and see.
Sunday, April 29, 2007
My Toddler is Possessed
There is a noise coming from my toddler that emanates straight from hell. It is guttural, it is frequent and it is annoying as shit. I used to think that the screech was the worst sound he could make. Oh, silly Mommy. Silly, deluded, only-partially-deaf Mommy.
Jack made this noise not only in the car today, but through four different furniture stores in two separate trips. What can I say, we're gluttons for punishment and on a mission for a new bedroom set. I believe that, upon leaving the last store, I dropped him from about three feet in the air straight into his car seat. This, at least, stopped the noise long enough for him to register some surprise. Alas, the noise began once again with a fury. But - and sadly this is a relief - quickly turned into normal toddler sobbing that Mommy is a Meanie. Yeah, you know what? I AM a Meanie sometimes. Especially when Satan himself is in the back seat trying to wrestle the last bit of intelligence out of my brain with that GOD FORSAKEN NOISE!
OK. All better now. But mostly due to the intervention of Sandy, my single gal-about-town friend who just called and simply suggested duct tape to remedy the entire problem. I laughed hysterically, maniacally even, and now I think I can be a better Mommy.
Until the next noise materializes.
Jack made this noise not only in the car today, but through four different furniture stores in two separate trips. What can I say, we're gluttons for punishment and on a mission for a new bedroom set. I believe that, upon leaving the last store, I dropped him from about three feet in the air straight into his car seat. This, at least, stopped the noise long enough for him to register some surprise. Alas, the noise began once again with a fury. But - and sadly this is a relief - quickly turned into normal toddler sobbing that Mommy is a Meanie. Yeah, you know what? I AM a Meanie sometimes. Especially when Satan himself is in the back seat trying to wrestle the last bit of intelligence out of my brain with that GOD FORSAKEN NOISE!
OK. All better now. But mostly due to the intervention of Sandy, my single gal-about-town friend who just called and simply suggested duct tape to remedy the entire problem. I laughed hysterically, maniacally even, and now I think I can be a better Mommy.
Until the next noise materializes.
Saturday, April 28, 2007
Home again, home again, Dancing a jig.
Jack and I have made our triumphant return to Columbus. This was, of course, after the tumult of leaving Grammy standing in the driveway in Cincinnati. As we pulled out, Jack suddenly realized the Giver of All Good Things was not coming with us and began wailing uncontrollably. As he is 18 months old, he was distracted by his new toy saxophone (I'll make a band geek of him yet) and Mr. Monkey 5 minutes out of the driveway. Sorry, Grammy.
We have the inspection on Cassingham on Monday. I'm looking forward to it. Breezing through your potential home with toddler in tow in 20 minutes and making an immediate offer is not the ideal way to find your Forever Home. So, Osi and I are both looking forward to spending a few hours in the house, going over each room inch by inch. We'll take pictures and measurements as well as using Mandie's highly-recommended inspector. We're hoping he finds a whole lot of nothin'. The inspection on Bitterroot is Wednesday. I am expecting the worst, as the guy who did the inspection for us three years ago was incompetent. (Uh, shout out to Conrad Fuchs at Protech. Never use them.)
That is all the brain dribble for now. Very tired. Shopping for a new bedroom set tomorrow. It is the last of the starter wife furniture to go. I am very excited about that. I believe a bonfire in the front yard on our final night would be fitting.
We have the inspection on Cassingham on Monday. I'm looking forward to it. Breezing through your potential home with toddler in tow in 20 minutes and making an immediate offer is not the ideal way to find your Forever Home. So, Osi and I are both looking forward to spending a few hours in the house, going over each room inch by inch. We'll take pictures and measurements as well as using Mandie's highly-recommended inspector. We're hoping he finds a whole lot of nothin'. The inspection on Bitterroot is Wednesday. I am expecting the worst, as the guy who did the inspection for us three years ago was incompetent. (Uh, shout out to Conrad Fuchs at Protech. Never use them.)
That is all the brain dribble for now. Very tired. Shopping for a new bedroom set tomorrow. It is the last of the starter wife furniture to go. I am very excited about that. I believe a bonfire in the front yard on our final night would be fitting.
Thursday, April 26, 2007
A New Chez Zimmer
In the span of 48 hours, we managed to reach an agreement on the sale of our home and, unbelievably, have our first offer accepted on the purchase of what I honestly hope will be our "forever home." That is moving a lot of real estate, people. We close on both properties on May 23rd and will be moving over Memorial Day. Sadly, I believe we're beyond paying people to help us move in pizza and beer, but the offer is out there.
It's completely weird knowing the people whose home you are buying. My mind has been racing for the past 4 days, mentally placing my furniture in Barney's house; erasing his artwork from the walls as if they were just a giant dry erase board.
Osi and I have come to the conclusion that while our collective "stuff" is great for the house on Bitterroot, it turns to crap the minute we move it into Cassingham. We now officially own a home that is waaaaay too nice for the stuff we have. I'm beginning to have a little bit of Central Bexley Panic. Apparently, the neighbor two doors down is a cellist in the Columbus Symphony. Uh, OK. So the neighbors have money AND culture? We're the frickin' Bexley Hillbillies. Property values will plummet the minute we park our jalopy in the driveway.
In other news, Jack an I remain on sabbatical in Cincinnati with Mom while Dad is in China. We went to the Newport Aquarium today. All of us were impressed. The shark tank alone is worth the visit and I think Jack really enjoyed it.
J's talking is slow going. Everything new is either "Ba" or "Da." This leads me to believe he is a genius when the new word I am trying to teach is "bath" or "duck" but leads to frustration on both ends when the word is "more" or "transcendentalism." He does seem to be a happy kid for the most part though, so I am trying to count those darn blessings and chug along.
It's completely weird knowing the people whose home you are buying. My mind has been racing for the past 4 days, mentally placing my furniture in Barney's house; erasing his artwork from the walls as if they were just a giant dry erase board.
Osi and I have come to the conclusion that while our collective "stuff" is great for the house on Bitterroot, it turns to crap the minute we move it into Cassingham. We now officially own a home that is waaaaay too nice for the stuff we have. I'm beginning to have a little bit of Central Bexley Panic. Apparently, the neighbor two doors down is a cellist in the Columbus Symphony. Uh, OK. So the neighbors have money AND culture? We're the frickin' Bexley Hillbillies. Property values will plummet the minute we park our jalopy in the driveway.
In other news, Jack an I remain on sabbatical in Cincinnati with Mom while Dad is in China. We went to the Newport Aquarium today. All of us were impressed. The shark tank alone is worth the visit and I think Jack really enjoyed it.
J's talking is slow going. Everything new is either "Ba" or "Da." This leads me to believe he is a genius when the new word I am trying to teach is "bath" or "duck" but leads to frustration on both ends when the word is "more" or "transcendentalism." He does seem to be a happy kid for the most part though, so I am trying to count those darn blessings and chug along.
Monday, April 23, 2007
Musical Homes
Yesterday turned out to be a very productive Sunday. We received an offer on our house - which made us giddy. It came with the provision that we vacate Chez Zimmer by May 18. Giddyup! That is less than 30 days to pack up 1600 square feet and 3.5 years of accumulated crap and move it across town to a house we have not yet found.
Team Zimmer shot into high gear. The offering couple was coming through the house again with somebody's father at 2, so we had to leave a spotless house for a few hours. As our house is usually far from spotless, there was work to be done, people. While the fine, upstanding Americans that are (hopefully) buying our home were making their final decisions (after all, dads tend to be deal-killers), Iron Lung Warner - our Realtor - managed to get us into a few houses in Bexley.
After seeing a "nice" house that would work, we ended up in the house of of Barney Brickner, the Zimmer Family Rabbi. He did Jack's naming and hosted a wine tasting at our house several months ago. I happen to love the man and have, in fact, been accused of stalking him on at least one occasion. The fact that I was now perusing the contents of his closets just seemed wrong. As it turns out, though, we loved the house. Great kitchen that'll be fantastic for entertaining, bedroom sizes that will FINALLY work, 2 full baths, a 1st floor den and the front porch I have been looking for.
So, the news to report for this Monday is that we appear to be in the early stages of negotiations on 2 houses. Yikes. Every step we take in this journey makes me more sure that this will absolutely be the last time we move. Straight from Rabbi Barney's house to the nursing home.
Team Zimmer shot into high gear. The offering couple was coming through the house again with somebody's father at 2, so we had to leave a spotless house for a few hours. As our house is usually far from spotless, there was work to be done, people. While the fine, upstanding Americans that are (hopefully) buying our home were making their final decisions (after all, dads tend to be deal-killers), Iron Lung Warner - our Realtor - managed to get us into a few houses in Bexley.
After seeing a "nice" house that would work, we ended up in the house of of Barney Brickner, the Zimmer Family Rabbi. He did Jack's naming and hosted a wine tasting at our house several months ago. I happen to love the man and have, in fact, been accused of stalking him on at least one occasion. The fact that I was now perusing the contents of his closets just seemed wrong. As it turns out, though, we loved the house. Great kitchen that'll be fantastic for entertaining, bedroom sizes that will FINALLY work, 2 full baths, a 1st floor den and the front porch I have been looking for.
So, the news to report for this Monday is that we appear to be in the early stages of negotiations on 2 houses. Yikes. Every step we take in this journey makes me more sure that this will absolutely be the last time we move. Straight from Rabbi Barney's house to the nursing home.
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