My morning started with my brother frantically texting me to call him ASAP. His very messy divorce is getting messier.
As soon as I got to work, my aunt called to give me a heads up that my mother's infection just won't go away and they are likely going to be sending her back here. An hour later she confirmed that was the plan. My mother will likely have to have her new knee replaced, which would involve a temporary antibiotic spacer for several weeks before the new one is installed. Or they could amputate.
Call me a selfish bitch, but the thought of my mother coming back here for several months again nearly made me cry at my desk at work. It was so, so hard adding her in to my already precarious balance last year. I don't want that stress again.
Then a friend who always manages to be in legal trouble called with more legal trouble. I just ignored her texts because I was busy, and I couldn't freaking deal with anyone else's problems by that point.
Got hung up at work a bit late. Met DH for dinner while the twins were at church (they asked to start going to church on Wednesday nights, who am I to say no?). I was bitching about my day to DH and he said, "you know what we need to do? Go to the batting cages!"
And so we went. And it was therapeutic. DH called out "This one's your brother! This one's your mom! This one's your surly teenage daughter!"
And then I hit one onto the top of my foot. Did I mention that I came straight from work? So I was still in heels. Yeah, there's a reason you don't play baseball in heels. And no, I don't know how I managed to hit a ball straight down onto my foot.
I immediately uttered a curse word and my foot immediately started to swell. You could see a perfect, white imprint of the ball on the top of my foot. It kept swelling and got a bit tingly, and my toes won't bend. I'm 95% certain its a hematoma, and WebMD agrees with me. I just don't know if I broke anything under the hematoma. I can kind of walk on it.
So I'm sitting here iced and elevated, sipping a cocktail (with whipped cream flavored vodka, which is so very yummy). I guess I'll see what it looks like in the morning and decide if I need to go to the doctor. Now I just need some damn chocolate.
8/25/12
Awesome Grannies
8/24/12
Today
I took off this last Friday of summer to hang with my girlies. Despite the fact that I have had to drag my tired ass out of bed every day this week, this morning I was wide awake at 6:00 am. WTF?
I let Bob out and impatiently waited for him to do his business so that I could let him back in. And then he started barking. I poked my head out of the door (because I was only wearing a tank top and undies), and could see that his hair was raised and he had something trapped, but it was just around the corner of the house where I couldn't see what. I ran inside to find pants and shoes, but DH volunteered to check it out. I wasn't going to argue, since the last time Bob cornered something it was a rat snake.
It turned out to be a plastic bag. I'm so glad to know that Bob is willing to protect us from those vicious plastic bags. Especially when he will let any human into the house without so much as a growl, and will love you forever if you scratch his ears.
We spent the rest of the days running back to school errands (and saw The Odd Life of Timothy Green. It was a bit boring and a bit sad.) It was a really nice girlie day.
Finally, we headed to the school for meet the teacher, which had been advertised in several places as being from 4-6 pm. And when we got there at 4:15 we were informed that we couldn't meet the teachers until 5. WTF? And then it came flooding back to me that they pulled this same crap last year. At least I didn't leave work early to be there at 4:00 (like last year).
So now we're killing time before we go back to school.
I let Bob out and impatiently waited for him to do his business so that I could let him back in. And then he started barking. I poked my head out of the door (because I was only wearing a tank top and undies), and could see that his hair was raised and he had something trapped, but it was just around the corner of the house where I couldn't see what. I ran inside to find pants and shoes, but DH volunteered to check it out. I wasn't going to argue, since the last time Bob cornered something it was a rat snake.
It turned out to be a plastic bag. I'm so glad to know that Bob is willing to protect us from those vicious plastic bags. Especially when he will let any human into the house without so much as a growl, and will love you forever if you scratch his ears.
We spent the rest of the days running back to school errands (and saw The Odd Life of Timothy Green. It was a bit boring and a bit sad.) It was a really nice girlie day.
Finally, we headed to the school for meet the teacher, which had been advertised in several places as being from 4-6 pm. And when we got there at 4:15 we were informed that we couldn't meet the teachers until 5. WTF? And then it came flooding back to me that they pulled this same crap last year. At least I didn't leave work early to be there at 4:00 (like last year).
So now we're killing time before we go back to school.
8/19/12
Food and Family
With only one week left until school starts, I spent my weekend cooking. I'm always happiest when my freezer is full. It was a perfect, rainy weekend for my cookathon, and everybody pitched in. PS pretty much hates cooking, but the twins like helping out. Especially when they get to use a big knife. I Tom Sawyered them into chopping up 5 pounds of cooked chicken breast.
Meanwhile, things are not going well with the extended family. My mother has been admitted to the hospital twice in the last week for infection. DH's grandmother broke her hip Friday and had surgery on Saturday. My brother, who is going through an ugly divorce, called to tell me that my grandparents' (on my dad's side) dementia was getting really bad. And my grandfather (on my mother's side) just found out that his cancer has spread to his lymph nodes and spleen and he is in kidney failure.
My poor aunt has been keeping me updated with the grandfather issues, in part because there have been legal issues that go along with it. A few months ago she discovered that my grandfather was engaging in behavior that was putting himself and my (step) grandmother in danger. There had been a couple of mysterious break-ins at their house and my grandfather had been beaten in the last one.
My grandmother's kids (who all live in other towns) came down, evaluated the situation, and decided to take her back home with them. Her dementia was becoming more advanced, and my grandfather wasn't able to take care of her. And the house was full of bedbugs.
Thankfully, I had them both execute powers of attorney a couple of years ago.* It was time to start using them. My grandfather was moved into a nursing home, but has been kicked out of two of them already for inappropriate behavior. Hopefully, number 3 will stick. My aunt was left to deal with him and close out the house--which has been no easy task. It all seemed to happen really fast, and now it appears that my grandfather has only a few months left.
I feel like I should be more upset, but I was never particularly close to this grandfather. These were not warm, fuzzy grandparents who ever cared much about hanging out with their grandchildren. The most quality time I ever spent with him was when he was in a halfway house in my college town after being released from federal prison. I was the only person he knew in that town, and I diligently went to visit every Thursday evening during the 3 month period that he was required to stay there.
After I graduated college and became a SAHM (before I went to law school), he informed me that I had wasted my education (not that he or anybody else on that side of the family had ever graduated from college). And he didn't have much use for lawyers, either, since his didn't manage to keep him out of the pen. I was pretentious for getting a graduate degree, when I hadn't even made use of my undergrad degree.
I actually haven't spoken to him at all since my MIL died and he tried to hit me up for money while we were camped out at hospice--that's been 2.5 years. My uncle wants to have a birthday party for him next month. I suppose we will go. There seem to be lots of things pulling us toward a trip to Hometown, but I will admit that I am not looking forward to it. My messed up family is why I moved so far away. I like my boring, quiet life in the suburbs.
*Please make sure you have general and medical powers of attorney. I just did a pro bono guardianship of an elderly woman, and it is expensive and involves a lot of ongoing paperwork. It could have been avoided if a power of attorney had been signed while she still had full capacity. You do not want to do that to your children! (Yes, I know I'm preaching to the choir!)
Meanwhile, things are not going well with the extended family. My mother has been admitted to the hospital twice in the last week for infection. DH's grandmother broke her hip Friday and had surgery on Saturday. My brother, who is going through an ugly divorce, called to tell me that my grandparents' (on my dad's side) dementia was getting really bad. And my grandfather (on my mother's side) just found out that his cancer has spread to his lymph nodes and spleen and he is in kidney failure.
My poor aunt has been keeping me updated with the grandfather issues, in part because there have been legal issues that go along with it. A few months ago she discovered that my grandfather was engaging in behavior that was putting himself and my (step) grandmother in danger. There had been a couple of mysterious break-ins at their house and my grandfather had been beaten in the last one.
My grandmother's kids (who all live in other towns) came down, evaluated the situation, and decided to take her back home with them. Her dementia was becoming more advanced, and my grandfather wasn't able to take care of her. And the house was full of bedbugs.
Thankfully, I had them both execute powers of attorney a couple of years ago.* It was time to start using them. My grandfather was moved into a nursing home, but has been kicked out of two of them already for inappropriate behavior. Hopefully, number 3 will stick. My aunt was left to deal with him and close out the house--which has been no easy task. It all seemed to happen really fast, and now it appears that my grandfather has only a few months left.
I feel like I should be more upset, but I was never particularly close to this grandfather. These were not warm, fuzzy grandparents who ever cared much about hanging out with their grandchildren. The most quality time I ever spent with him was when he was in a halfway house in my college town after being released from federal prison. I was the only person he knew in that town, and I diligently went to visit every Thursday evening during the 3 month period that he was required to stay there.
After I graduated college and became a SAHM (before I went to law school), he informed me that I had wasted my education (not that he or anybody else on that side of the family had ever graduated from college). And he didn't have much use for lawyers, either, since his didn't manage to keep him out of the pen. I was pretentious for getting a graduate degree, when I hadn't even made use of my undergrad degree.
I actually haven't spoken to him at all since my MIL died and he tried to hit me up for money while we were camped out at hospice--that's been 2.5 years. My uncle wants to have a birthday party for him next month. I suppose we will go. There seem to be lots of things pulling us toward a trip to Hometown, but I will admit that I am not looking forward to it. My messed up family is why I moved so far away. I like my boring, quiet life in the suburbs.
*Please make sure you have general and medical powers of attorney. I just did a pro bono guardianship of an elderly woman, and it is expensive and involves a lot of ongoing paperwork. It could have been avoided if a power of attorney had been signed while she still had full capacity. You do not want to do that to your children! (Yes, I know I'm preaching to the choir!)
8/17/12
I am a Jinx
Earlier this summer we were supposed to vacation in Colorado Springs. Our vacation was scheduled for the week after the fires started there. So we made it a staycation instead. It was fine, the downtime was nice, but I've been jonesing to get out of town. I'd still love to go to Colorado, but it's much too far for a weekend trip.
So I thought we'd do a little beach trip over Labor Day. And then this morning I heard on the radio that dead fish were washing up on the beach by the thousands. Gross.
I'm beginning to think that I am a magnet for natural disasters. Or that karma wants me to stay home.
We're trying to come up with an alternative solution--but by now most everything is booked up. Man, I need a lake house. But that seems unlikely with three college educations to pay for (not to mention my own JD). Man, I need to inherit a lake house from some unknown, elderly relative who lived a long and happy life.
So I thought we'd do a little beach trip over Labor Day. And then this morning I heard on the radio that dead fish were washing up on the beach by the thousands. Gross.
I'm beginning to think that I am a magnet for natural disasters. Or that karma wants me to stay home.
We're trying to come up with an alternative solution--but by now most everything is booked up. Man, I need a lake house. But that seems unlikely with three college educations to pay for (not to mention my own JD). Man, I need to inherit a lake house from some unknown, elderly relative who lived a long and happy life.
8/14/12
Senorita Fashionista
As I was walking through my parking garage at work today, a complete stranger came up to me and said, "Can I ask you something? Do I look tacky?"
"I'm sorry?" I asked confusedly.
"Is this outfit tacky?" she said.
"No, you look nice," I said.
"Are these purple shoes ok with this outfit?" she said.
"Yes, they are exactly the pop of color you needed for your outfit," I said. (She was wearing a black top and a black bias-cut skirt with a white stripe through it, and deep purple heels.)
Very strange. And yet, I was somewhat disappointed that she wasn't horribly dressed. Oh how many times have I wished strangers would ask me for fashion advice. There have been plenty of times I could have helped a girl out, but it just wasn't appropriate to do so. I definitely think more complete strangers should start asking me for fashion advice.
"I'm sorry?" I asked confusedly.
"Is this outfit tacky?" she said.
"No, you look nice," I said.
"Are these purple shoes ok with this outfit?" she said.
"Yes, they are exactly the pop of color you needed for your outfit," I said. (She was wearing a black top and a black bias-cut skirt with a white stripe through it, and deep purple heels.)
Very strange. And yet, I was somewhat disappointed that she wasn't horribly dressed. Oh how many times have I wished strangers would ask me for fashion advice. There have been plenty of times I could have helped a girl out, but it just wasn't appropriate to do so. I definitely think more complete strangers should start asking me for fashion advice.
8/12/12
Sunday Scrambling
I have a reply brief due on Monday. I thought I was done with it, and then at 5:15 this evening, Partner sends another section that he wants me to add. Which put me over my page limits. Argggghhhh! This is the same partner who gave me his revisions at 6:30 Friday night--including those for the client's supporting affidavit. Grumble.
I like Partner, but he is a major procrastinator. I HATE working under a deadline like this. Yes, I may be the only lawyer on the planet who gets stuff out ahead of time. Now I will be scrambling tomorrow to create my appendix and finalize my cites to the sequentially-numbered appendix. Double grumble. I guess the bright (or not) side is that the fed courts have a midnight filing deadline, unlike the 5:00 state court deadline.
P.S. In case you were wondering, SS's cardiologist appointment went great. We saw the father of TT's cardiologist, and I swear he was 90 years old, but still sharp as a tack. He said that TT has an "innocent murmur" and that her heart is perfectly normal. Apparently they just pop up sometimes in toddlers and adolescents, hang around for a year or two, and then disappear. She does not have the same condition as her twin.
I like Partner, but he is a major procrastinator. I HATE working under a deadline like this. Yes, I may be the only lawyer on the planet who gets stuff out ahead of time. Now I will be scrambling tomorrow to create my appendix and finalize my cites to the sequentially-numbered appendix. Double grumble. I guess the bright (or not) side is that the fed courts have a midnight filing deadline, unlike the 5:00 state court deadline.
P.S. In case you were wondering, SS's cardiologist appointment went great. We saw the father of TT's cardiologist, and I swear he was 90 years old, but still sharp as a tack. He said that TT has an "innocent murmur" and that her heart is perfectly normal. Apparently they just pop up sometimes in toddlers and adolescents, hang around for a year or two, and then disappear. She does not have the same condition as her twin.
8/8/12
Winding Down and Gearing Up
We have 2.5 weeks left of summer. Sigh. We did a road trip on Saturday, which TT declared "the best day ever." We toured caverns, swam in a natural spring-fed pool that was a perfect 68 degrees on a 101 degree day, and watched a colony of bats emerge from their habitat at dusk. (The trip was all about the bats--my kids are obsessed with them!) It was a nice little getaway and we crammed a lot into that day.
I'm really not ready for back-to-school craziness, but it's already begun. TT started summer band this week. I may be more excited than she is. I was a total band geek, and I'm psyched to have one of my three kids following in my footsteps.
PS has high school orientation next week. I am not excited about that. I am not adjusting well to the fact that I have a kid going into high school. I'm not that old. She's not that old. I'm not ready to give her up in 4 years. (Why did I grade-accelerate her? She'll go to college when she's 17!)
And SS has an orthodontist and a cardiologist appointment in the next week, as I try to squeeze everything in before school starts. The cardio appointment is in an abundance of caution by our GP. TT has very, very mild pulmonary valve stenosis and has been seeing a cardiologist since she was a toddler. The GP couldn't even hear TT's murmur, but thought she might have heard something in SS. And since they're identical, she thought it best to have it checked out. (Although I would swear we had asked the cardio about SS at some point, apparently there's no record of it.) So, anyway, I am surprisingly not worried about this appointment, even though pediatric and cardiologist are two words that should not go together.
Work has been concerningly slow for most of the summer, but has picked up this week. I'm sure it will all pick up just in time for the back-to-school madness.
I'm really not ready for back-to-school craziness, but it's already begun. TT started summer band this week. I may be more excited than she is. I was a total band geek, and I'm psyched to have one of my three kids following in my footsteps.
PS has high school orientation next week. I am not excited about that. I am not adjusting well to the fact that I have a kid going into high school. I'm not that old. She's not that old. I'm not ready to give her up in 4 years. (Why did I grade-accelerate her? She'll go to college when she's 17!)
And SS has an orthodontist and a cardiologist appointment in the next week, as I try to squeeze everything in before school starts. The cardio appointment is in an abundance of caution by our GP. TT has very, very mild pulmonary valve stenosis and has been seeing a cardiologist since she was a toddler. The GP couldn't even hear TT's murmur, but thought she might have heard something in SS. And since they're identical, she thought it best to have it checked out. (Although I would swear we had asked the cardio about SS at some point, apparently there's no record of it.) So, anyway, I am surprisingly not worried about this appointment, even though pediatric and cardiologist are two words that should not go together.
Work has been concerningly slow for most of the summer, but has picked up this week. I'm sure it will all pick up just in time for the back-to-school madness.
7/23/12
Ghosts From the Past
My brother just moved into a new apartment only to learn that his next-door neighbor is our former stepfather. A man neither of us have seen in more than 20 years, and quite frankly, hoped dead. A man who regularly beat my mother, and less regularly, my brother.*
I used to lie in bed at night, imagining what I would do the next time he attacked her. There was a gun in the top of her closet. I knew how to use it, and he didn't. But I wasn't sure I could bring myself to actually shoot someone--and I knew the danger was too high if I wasn't successful. My alternative plan was to take her big iron skillet to the back of his head. But again, I was afraid of the consequences if I wasn't strong enough to knock him out. And so when he attacked her, we usually just ran to the neighbors and called the police. And time after time, she took him back, even with breaks, bruises and hospital visits.
If you think it's ok to stay with a man who hits you, as long as he's not hitting the kids, you're wrong. First, you don't know when he's going to turn on the kids. But the scars from watching my mother attacked over and over again, while she refused to remove herself and us from that situation, are as deep as any physical wound. It is the primary reason for the wedge between us. There was no reason not to leave. He offered little financial contribution (he worked construction and often went weeks between jobs), and I can't name a single redeeming quality about him. She had family all around who could have helped her out. I will never understand why she didn't leave--and why she chose him over us.
I asked my brother if he said anything to him--told him that my inclination would be to sucker punch him. But my brother said he is old and frail now. He was 10-15 years older than my mother, and probably in his late 70's now. My brother is 6'/250lbs--no longer the scrawny kid who used to get his bare ass beat with a belt.
I think I would have to move, in my brother's situation. There is still too much anger there, even after 20 years.
*He didn't mess with me, much. He once pinned me to a wall, but backed off when I kneed him in the balls. He slapped me once, hard enough to knock me into the refrigerator. I moved in with my dad that day, and told my mother, "him or me." She chose him.
I used to lie in bed at night, imagining what I would do the next time he attacked her. There was a gun in the top of her closet. I knew how to use it, and he didn't. But I wasn't sure I could bring myself to actually shoot someone--and I knew the danger was too high if I wasn't successful. My alternative plan was to take her big iron skillet to the back of his head. But again, I was afraid of the consequences if I wasn't strong enough to knock him out. And so when he attacked her, we usually just ran to the neighbors and called the police. And time after time, she took him back, even with breaks, bruises and hospital visits.
If you think it's ok to stay with a man who hits you, as long as he's not hitting the kids, you're wrong. First, you don't know when he's going to turn on the kids. But the scars from watching my mother attacked over and over again, while she refused to remove herself and us from that situation, are as deep as any physical wound. It is the primary reason for the wedge between us. There was no reason not to leave. He offered little financial contribution (he worked construction and often went weeks between jobs), and I can't name a single redeeming quality about him. She had family all around who could have helped her out. I will never understand why she didn't leave--and why she chose him over us.
I asked my brother if he said anything to him--told him that my inclination would be to sucker punch him. But my brother said he is old and frail now. He was 10-15 years older than my mother, and probably in his late 70's now. My brother is 6'/250lbs--no longer the scrawny kid who used to get his bare ass beat with a belt.
I think I would have to move, in my brother's situation. There is still too much anger there, even after 20 years.
*He didn't mess with me, much. He once pinned me to a wall, but backed off when I kneed him in the balls. He slapped me once, hard enough to knock me into the refrigerator. I moved in with my dad that day, and told my mother, "him or me." She chose him.
7/19/12
Still Here
I survived, in case you were worried about me. The plane was tiny--like a compact car with wings. But the pilot was a retired commercial pilot, and the flight was smooth. It was really not a bad way to travel. Not quite as fast as a jet, but when you factor in all the time saved from not having to stand in security lines (and, bonus!, no body scanners), it worked out about the same.
Meanwhile, it's birthdaypalooza around here. Today is DH's b-day, which commenced with our traditional birthday morning dance party to the Beatles' Birthday Song. He's winding up his day with PS at the midnight premiere of the Dark Knight Rises. Thankfully he has a teenage daughter to accompany him, because I am definitely too old to be out until 3:00 am.
The twins' b-day is next week, and their party a week from Saturday. I sent out Evites last week and we have had 2 no's and one yes. No other responses (not even from their BFF!). I don't know what we'll do if we don't get more yesses. TT and SS will be broken hearted, and I've ordered a ton of stuff and lined up a friend to bake each kid her own cake.
They've never had a big birthday party with all of their friends before because it's just so hard to pin people down in the middle of summer. We had a pretty big guest list, hoping that at least half would be able to come. Maybe it's just too early--we're usually lucky if we get a week's notice of a party.
Work is slow, but that's pretty typical for summer. You can't schedule anything because somebody is always on vacation. The slower pace is nice--but it would be more appreciated during the hecticness of the school year. We've only got a month of summer left, and I'm not ready for it to end. I love the extra time with my girlies when we don't have to worry about homework or bedtimes.
Meanwhile, it's birthdaypalooza around here. Today is DH's b-day, which commenced with our traditional birthday morning dance party to the Beatles' Birthday Song. He's winding up his day with PS at the midnight premiere of the Dark Knight Rises. Thankfully he has a teenage daughter to accompany him, because I am definitely too old to be out until 3:00 am.
The twins' b-day is next week, and their party a week from Saturday. I sent out Evites last week and we have had 2 no's and one yes. No other responses (not even from their BFF!). I don't know what we'll do if we don't get more yesses. TT and SS will be broken hearted, and I've ordered a ton of stuff and lined up a friend to bake each kid her own cake.
They've never had a big birthday party with all of their friends before because it's just so hard to pin people down in the middle of summer. We had a pretty big guest list, hoping that at least half would be able to come. Maybe it's just too early--we're usually lucky if we get a week's notice of a party.
Work is slow, but that's pretty typical for summer. You can't schedule anything because somebody is always on vacation. The slower pace is nice--but it would be more appreciated during the hecticness of the school year. We've only got a month of summer left, and I'm not ready for it to end. I love the extra time with my girlies when we don't have to worry about homework or bedtimes.
7/16/12
Flying Ducts
So tomorrow I have to attend an out-of-town site inspection. And the client is flying us down on his private plane.
I'm not too excited about this. I would far rather take a full-size commercial jetliner than a teeny-tiny private plane. As DH said, "those things crash all the time!" (He's not too excited about this, either.)
Anyway, I worked until about 7:30 tonight, tying up loose ends in case today is my last day on earth. Then met DH and the girlies for a quick dinner and finally made it home about 8:30, where I spent half an hour staring into my closet trying to figure out what the heck I am wearing tomorrow.
The problem: nearly all of my pants are hemmed for heels. Heels are not appropriate for a site inspection. Usually I wear a nice pair of dark jeans, and that is perfectly appropriate and very much in line with what all of the other attorneys are wearing to these things.
But one of the big bosses is going, and the big bosses tend to err on the side of formal and I think he will be all frowny if I show up in jeans.
I recall that I have one pair of black pants hiding in the back of my closet that I bought specifically to wear with my one pair of flats. They've been back there so long there is a line of dust where they fold over the hanger. I put them on, excited to see that they fit.
Well, kinda. They fit, but I'm left with a muffin top. You know those 10 pounds that I lost when I quit eating bread? Well, I've gained 5 of them back thanks to Sonic's half-price milkshakes after 8:00. I can't find a shirt to hide that muffin top. It ain't pretty.
By 9:00 I decide that I am having a fashion emergency and must buy new pants. Of course, the only stores in town that are still open are Kohls and Target, and I have to be at the airport at 7:30 in the morning. Kohls it is, and my little fashionista, SS, comes along to give me advice (and manages to score a new pair of shoes off the clearance rack!).
I try on approximately 300 pairs of pants, before coming up with something suitable. They're a bit too big, but at least there's no muffin top. And they're too long to wear with my flats.
Back home by 10:00, and I have to figure out how to hem my pants. I can sew, but I don't do clothes, and I'm pretty sure it will look like crap if I try. Not to mention that all of my sewing supplies are shoved willy-nilly into a closet since we turned my sewing room into TT's bedroom. That includes the iron-on hem tape that would be oh-so-handy right about now.
So I turn to duct tape. It will fix anything, right? And I have used duct tape to fix a hem in an emergency before (staples actually work better, but are more visible--I am notorious for catching a heel in my hem.).
And so I iron a sharp crease at the new hemline and proceed to hem my pants with pink and black zebra-striped duct tape. Fingers crossed that it holds, because there is an enormous opportunity here for me to make a total fool of myself.
Fingers and toes crossed that I make it home in one piece tomorrow. Hopefully the plane is held together with more than duct tape. If you don't hear back from me after this, it was nice knowing you.
I'm not too excited about this. I would far rather take a full-size commercial jetliner than a teeny-tiny private plane. As DH said, "those things crash all the time!" (He's not too excited about this, either.)
Anyway, I worked until about 7:30 tonight, tying up loose ends in case today is my last day on earth. Then met DH and the girlies for a quick dinner and finally made it home about 8:30, where I spent half an hour staring into my closet trying to figure out what the heck I am wearing tomorrow.
The problem: nearly all of my pants are hemmed for heels. Heels are not appropriate for a site inspection. Usually I wear a nice pair of dark jeans, and that is perfectly appropriate and very much in line with what all of the other attorneys are wearing to these things.
But one of the big bosses is going, and the big bosses tend to err on the side of formal and I think he will be all frowny if I show up in jeans.
I recall that I have one pair of black pants hiding in the back of my closet that I bought specifically to wear with my one pair of flats. They've been back there so long there is a line of dust where they fold over the hanger. I put them on, excited to see that they fit.
Well, kinda. They fit, but I'm left with a muffin top. You know those 10 pounds that I lost when I quit eating bread? Well, I've gained 5 of them back thanks to Sonic's half-price milkshakes after 8:00. I can't find a shirt to hide that muffin top. It ain't pretty.
By 9:00 I decide that I am having a fashion emergency and must buy new pants. Of course, the only stores in town that are still open are Kohls and Target, and I have to be at the airport at 7:30 in the morning. Kohls it is, and my little fashionista, SS, comes along to give me advice (and manages to score a new pair of shoes off the clearance rack!).
I try on approximately 300 pairs of pants, before coming up with something suitable. They're a bit too big, but at least there's no muffin top. And they're too long to wear with my flats.
Back home by 10:00, and I have to figure out how to hem my pants. I can sew, but I don't do clothes, and I'm pretty sure it will look like crap if I try. Not to mention that all of my sewing supplies are shoved willy-nilly into a closet since we turned my sewing room into TT's bedroom. That includes the iron-on hem tape that would be oh-so-handy right about now.
So I turn to duct tape. It will fix anything, right? And I have used duct tape to fix a hem in an emergency before (staples actually work better, but are more visible--I am notorious for catching a heel in my hem.).
And so I iron a sharp crease at the new hemline and proceed to hem my pants with pink and black zebra-striped duct tape. Fingers crossed that it holds, because there is an enormous opportunity here for me to make a total fool of myself.
Fingers and toes crossed that I make it home in one piece tomorrow. Hopefully the plane is held together with more than duct tape. If you don't hear back from me after this, it was nice knowing you.
7/14/12
Kid Stuff
We got the girls' rooms painted and they are settled back in. The new colors look awesome. We did manage a checkerboard in PS's room by cutting big squares of black contact paper and sticking them on top of the dark purple paint. I'm sure it was 1000 times easier than trying to paint a checkerboard, and it looks really good (and cost $14 for the contact paper!)
PS continues with her pseudo-goth look. Right now she is begging me to let her dye her hair jet-black (from her natural dark brown). She's almost 14 and going into high school. Hair color is not a hill I want to die on, but I wish it weren't black. My stylist said that if she did it, it would be really hard to get out again. Sigh. I promised her a decision by this morning.
TT and SS have a birthday this month and are dying for iPod touches. I refuse to buy them, because I don't think they take care of things well enough, and I think it's too much to spend on a gadget for an 11 year old. But I did tell them that if they can come up with half the money, I would pay the other half as their birthday present.
We'll see if they can do it. They don't have much saved up because they tend to get distracted and spend their money on every bright, shiny object they see. Their current plan is to have a garage sale. I'm glad to see them trying to earn the money--and cleaning out their closets. I hate garage sales though--I'd far rather donate my junk. And I don't think they have enough stuff to get them there. But maybe that plus some birthday money from the grandparents will get them close.
Meanwhile, we're bringing back the Amazing Race/scavenger hunt party that we did for PS a couple of years ago. It was a lot of work, but so much fun. I love planning parties!
PS continues with her pseudo-goth look. Right now she is begging me to let her dye her hair jet-black (from her natural dark brown). She's almost 14 and going into high school. Hair color is not a hill I want to die on, but I wish it weren't black. My stylist said that if she did it, it would be really hard to get out again. Sigh. I promised her a decision by this morning.
TT and SS have a birthday this month and are dying for iPod touches. I refuse to buy them, because I don't think they take care of things well enough, and I think it's too much to spend on a gadget for an 11 year old. But I did tell them that if they can come up with half the money, I would pay the other half as their birthday present.
We'll see if they can do it. They don't have much saved up because they tend to get distracted and spend their money on every bright, shiny object they see. Their current plan is to have a garage sale. I'm glad to see them trying to earn the money--and cleaning out their closets. I hate garage sales though--I'd far rather donate my junk. And I don't think they have enough stuff to get them there. But maybe that plus some birthday money from the grandparents will get them close.
Meanwhile, we're bringing back the Amazing Race/scavenger hunt party that we did for PS a couple of years ago. It was a lot of work, but so much fun. I love planning parties!
6/30/12
Awkward!
I ran out of the house at 8:00 this morning to go to Lowe's for paint to finish up my projects before DH gets back in town (he is retrieving SS from fashion camp). I didn't bother to put on any makeup for my trek to Lowe's and my slightly greasy hair was pulled haphazardly into a ponytail/bun thing. I didn't see any point in showering until after I painted.
On the way home I stopped by Starbucks for some much needed coffee, somewhat nervously pulling into a parking space filled with 4 Harleys. I immediately spotted the bikers, and then immediately recognized one of them as a client. He looked right at me, but didn't show any hint of recognition.
What to do? I didn't want to appear rude, and I was praying he didn't recognize me. I was about as far as humanly possible from the made-up, coiffed, stiletto-and-suit-wearing lawyer he had previously met.
And I could not remember his name. I think it may be John. I had only worked with him on one matter, for a short time, several months ago. We had met only once or twice. Even if I were willing to present my self in my sloppy-Saturday-morning state, I wasn't sure how to initiate conversation--especially if he didn't remember me. "Hey, uh, client guy. I'm your lawyer, remember me?"
So what did I do? I ignored him. Our backs were to each other the rest of the time I was ordering, so there was no more awkward meeting of the eyes. Hopefully, he didn't recognize me at all, or though I looked only vaguely familiar (I frequently get "you look familiar" from complete strangers.) Or maybe he's just relieved that he didn't have to introduce his lawyer to his biker buddies.
On the way home I stopped by Starbucks for some much needed coffee, somewhat nervously pulling into a parking space filled with 4 Harleys. I immediately spotted the bikers, and then immediately recognized one of them as a client. He looked right at me, but didn't show any hint of recognition.
What to do? I didn't want to appear rude, and I was praying he didn't recognize me. I was about as far as humanly possible from the made-up, coiffed, stiletto-and-suit-wearing lawyer he had previously met.
And I could not remember his name. I think it may be John. I had only worked with him on one matter, for a short time, several months ago. We had met only once or twice. Even if I were willing to present my self in my sloppy-Saturday-morning state, I wasn't sure how to initiate conversation--especially if he didn't remember me. "Hey, uh, client guy. I'm your lawyer, remember me?"
So what did I do? I ignored him. Our backs were to each other the rest of the time I was ordering, so there was no more awkward meeting of the eyes. Hopefully, he didn't recognize me at all, or though I looked only vaguely familiar (I frequently get "you look familiar" from complete strangers.) Or maybe he's just relieved that he didn't have to introduce his lawyer to his biker buddies.
6/24/12
The Bits and Pieces of Life
Work has been super-slow for the last week. In fact, I left the office early every single day. I really need to get over feeling guilty when I leave the office before 6:00 p.m.--especially when I don't have anything to do anyway.
DH and I had a mini-date night on Wednesday while we did a trial run of the summer nanny. (Yes! I found someone. In fact, I found a few and had a really tough time making a decision.) We did the batting cages (It sounded like so much fun after he went with TT) and then had snow cones. It was so much fun! The batting cages are very therapeutic--I just envisioned the faces of all the assholes I had to deal with lately, and bam!, I was knocking them out of the park.
I've been painting all weekend. PS talked me into doing her room while I did TT's new room, and I somehow reasoned that it would be easiest to knock both out at once. I am sore today, after spending the last 36 hours up and down ladders. The kids get to roll on the easy middle part of the wall while I do the edge work up high and down low. Both rooms are looking great, though. TT's room is a tranquil blue that feels very "under the sea" PS's room is a deep purple (4 coats!) with a black accent wall. She has been trying to talk me into painting a purple-and-black checkerboard on one wall, but I'm not sure I'm up for the work it would entail or that I could create sharp lines on our textured walls. We may try it with black contact paper instead of paint.
The painting has been good bonding time with PS. She never wants to hang out with the rest of us anymore, but she's been happy and chatty while we work on her room. Her BFF was over for a bit, DJing for us while we painted, and it was nice getting to listen to their chatter.
Tomorrow I'm driving SS to camp. The round-trip will be a full day in the car, but I'm kind of looking forward to it. TT will make the trip with us so I'll have company in the car on the way home. And the bonus is that I get to have a calzone from my favorite college restaurant--which are the best calzones in the world!
We are supposed to leave for a mini-vacation on Friday, but our destination has been evacuated because of wild fires. I think we're just going to cancel and do a stay-cation instead. We've had a few expenses lately that were affecting our vacation budget, anyway. (I really liked the 20" rims on my Armada until I had to buy new tires--ouch!)
DH and I had a mini-date night on Wednesday while we did a trial run of the summer nanny. (Yes! I found someone. In fact, I found a few and had a really tough time making a decision.) We did the batting cages (It sounded like so much fun after he went with TT) and then had snow cones. It was so much fun! The batting cages are very therapeutic--I just envisioned the faces of all the assholes I had to deal with lately, and bam!, I was knocking them out of the park.
I've been painting all weekend. PS talked me into doing her room while I did TT's new room, and I somehow reasoned that it would be easiest to knock both out at once. I am sore today, after spending the last 36 hours up and down ladders. The kids get to roll on the easy middle part of the wall while I do the edge work up high and down low. Both rooms are looking great, though. TT's room is a tranquil blue that feels very "under the sea" PS's room is a deep purple (4 coats!) with a black accent wall. She has been trying to talk me into painting a purple-and-black checkerboard on one wall, but I'm not sure I'm up for the work it would entail or that I could create sharp lines on our textured walls. We may try it with black contact paper instead of paint.
The painting has been good bonding time with PS. She never wants to hang out with the rest of us anymore, but she's been happy and chatty while we work on her room. Her BFF was over for a bit, DJing for us while we painted, and it was nice getting to listen to their chatter.
Tomorrow I'm driving SS to camp. The round-trip will be a full day in the car, but I'm kind of looking forward to it. TT will make the trip with us so I'll have company in the car on the way home. And the bonus is that I get to have a calzone from my favorite college restaurant--which are the best calzones in the world!
We are supposed to leave for a mini-vacation on Friday, but our destination has been evacuated because of wild fires. I think we're just going to cancel and do a stay-cation instead. We've had a few expenses lately that were affecting our vacation budget, anyway. (I really liked the 20" rims on my Armada until I had to buy new tires--ouch!)
6/22/12
Everybody Has Secrets
DH's family has always been Cleaver-normal--wide-eyed and amazed at the stories that hale from my side of the world. But on Wednesday DH got a text from his dad saying that DH's great-uncle had been arrested for indecency with a child. The Uncle was a prominent member of his small community and the story was expected to be in the news the next day.
My first question was, "did he ever do anything to anyone in the family?" We learned later that night that he had--decades ago--and that family member never came forward. Today we learned that it was another family member--now an adult--who reported him.
So, the news story broke today. I found it online and sent DH the link. All of the comments were typical disbelief and "he was such a nice guy." The molester is always a nice guy and upstanding citizen. (I also have an uncle who was convicted of child molestation and everyone who ever met him will tell you what a nice guy he is.)
And then, at the end of the day, DH checked the link again to read new comments. And that is how he learned that the Uncle had committed suicide about two-hours earlier.
No, the bastard media did not even allow time for the family to be notified before breaking the news. DH immediately called his dad, who hadn't heard yet, so that he could let other family members know (DH's grandmother is Uncle's sister).
The things this man did were heinous, and I am shedding no tears over the loss of his life. But it is so, so much for his family to deal with. He had children and grandchildren. A wife. His sisters. Who all have to deal with this horrible news and then a funeral on top of it all. (One of the sisters has a grandchild getting married--I can only imagine how this horrific tragedy is marring that joyous event.)
It is too much to process. DH knew nothing about his uncle's dark side. There is a mixture of hurt and anger toward those who did know and swept it under the rug. Why don't people come forward? Of course there are a million answers. But allowing someone to maintain his Mr. Nice Guy image just permits more victims. And I'm not necessarily referring to the victims. There were others who knew and did nothing, and sadly, that seems to be typical.
I don't know how to encourage people to expose molesters. Hopefully all of the high-profile cases of late that demonstrate so clearly how abusers will continue until they are stopped will help in that regard. We are wondering if that is what triggered this report, so many years later. But how many kids could have been saved if he had been stopped sooner?
My first question was, "did he ever do anything to anyone in the family?" We learned later that night that he had--decades ago--and that family member never came forward. Today we learned that it was another family member--now an adult--who reported him.
So, the news story broke today. I found it online and sent DH the link. All of the comments were typical disbelief and "he was such a nice guy." The molester is always a nice guy and upstanding citizen. (I also have an uncle who was convicted of child molestation and everyone who ever met him will tell you what a nice guy he is.)
And then, at the end of the day, DH checked the link again to read new comments. And that is how he learned that the Uncle had committed suicide about two-hours earlier.
No, the bastard media did not even allow time for the family to be notified before breaking the news. DH immediately called his dad, who hadn't heard yet, so that he could let other family members know (DH's grandmother is Uncle's sister).
The things this man did were heinous, and I am shedding no tears over the loss of his life. But it is so, so much for his family to deal with. He had children and grandchildren. A wife. His sisters. Who all have to deal with this horrible news and then a funeral on top of it all. (One of the sisters has a grandchild getting married--I can only imagine how this horrific tragedy is marring that joyous event.)
It is too much to process. DH knew nothing about his uncle's dark side. There is a mixture of hurt and anger toward those who did know and swept it under the rug. Why don't people come forward? Of course there are a million answers. But allowing someone to maintain his Mr. Nice Guy image just permits more victims. And I'm not necessarily referring to the victims. There were others who knew and did nothing, and sadly, that seems to be typical.
I don't know how to encourage people to expose molesters. Hopefully all of the high-profile cases of late that demonstrate so clearly how abusers will continue until they are stopped will help in that regard. We are wondering if that is what triggered this report, so many years later. But how many kids could have been saved if he had been stopped sooner?
6/16/12
Father's Day
We decided to give DH time with each of his girls this Father's Day. With three kids it's hard finding one-on-one time with each of them, and they seem to need it even more as they get older.This idea was triggered when I got a groupon for local batting cages. TT is playing softball, and it seemed like the perfect father-daughter outing. And he and PS were both dying to see the midnight showing of The Dark Night Rises that he mistakenly though was sold out already. Woot! Two gifts down for less than $40.
SS was a bit tougher. She is my girlie-girl, and I just couldn't see DH going for a pedi or an afternoon at the mall. We finally decided on tacos and target shooting--celebrating their mutual love of mexican food and shooting stuffed squirrels with a laser gun.
PS made an awesome comic strip outlining what his gifts are, and to round it all out, we heading out for a baseball game tomorrow afternoon.
Yay! It's so hard to shop for DH, but he seemed to really like what we came up with. (We gave it to him early so he could start scheduling his daddy-daughter dates.)
6/11/12
Here We Go Again
So, I've once again sighed up for care.com. This is where I found my last several nannies. I don't even want to count them up. I'm so frustrated with having to go through this process AGAIN.
I am very thorough. I usually have two interviews, do a complete background check (yes I do google applicants and check facebook and my findings have cost candidates the job), and then do a test-run where they stay with the girls for a couple of hours while DH and I stay nearby before we hire somebody. This process is unbelievably time consuming, and time is the one thing I do not have a lot of. (I tried to talk me secretary into doing preliminary interviews, but she refused!)(Yes, that's a joke. I do not ask my secretary to handle personal tasks.)
I don't think that our nanny turnover is because the pay is bad or we treat them poorly. I think being somewhat transitory is the nature of the late-teen/early-twenty somethings that I typically hire Our current nanny is heading to college in the fall and suddenly decided she wanted to take a summer session. Our former nanny was with us for a year before she went off to college (and she visits us whenever she is back in town) The one before that was with us a matter of weeks before she decided to move across the country to be with her twin (and stays in touch with the girls via email).
So why do I keep hiring 18-24 year olds?
Because the grandmotherly-type who was our nanny for two years got mad and quit after I refused to employ her full-time over the summer. Frankly, she just wasn't up to it--regardless of what she thought. She quit going upstairs (where the kids spend most of their time) and every time I came home she was doing crosswords downstairs while the kids ran amok. She started refusing to drive them places, and the was increasingly hostile toward PS. She needed to go, and I was glad I didn't have to fire her, but the twins were devastated by her sudden disappearance.
And because I like for my girls to have upwardly mobile role models. Girls who are in school and are working toward their goals. Because the older women who have applied for these position (and I almost hired one the last go-round) have not generally had great career aspirations. They just need something to pay the bills. (Of course, there are nannies who see it not as a job, but as a career, who are educated and have excellent qualifications. These nannies are generally seeking full time positions and pay beyond my budget.)
Because my girls like hanging out with younger people, and getting advice from them. (PS has been texting our former nanny with all her high school questions.) And because the younger people can help with homework.
And so, here we go again. I did find several local girls who are home from college for the summer and interested in hanging out with my girls, so I guess I'll spend this weekend interviewing. But even with all the trouble, I think in-my-home care is best for me and my girls. Especially as they get older. At least one of them is doing a half-day camp every day this month. And I just realized TT has summer band through half of August. I have no idea how we'll get them to and fro without someone to run them around.
I am very thorough. I usually have two interviews, do a complete background check (yes I do google applicants and check facebook and my findings have cost candidates the job), and then do a test-run where they stay with the girls for a couple of hours while DH and I stay nearby before we hire somebody. This process is unbelievably time consuming, and time is the one thing I do not have a lot of. (I tried to talk me secretary into doing preliminary interviews, but she refused!)(Yes, that's a joke. I do not ask my secretary to handle personal tasks.)
I don't think that our nanny turnover is because the pay is bad or we treat them poorly. I think being somewhat transitory is the nature of the late-teen/early-twenty somethings that I typically hire Our current nanny is heading to college in the fall and suddenly decided she wanted to take a summer session. Our former nanny was with us for a year before she went off to college (and she visits us whenever she is back in town) The one before that was with us a matter of weeks before she decided to move across the country to be with her twin (and stays in touch with the girls via email).
So why do I keep hiring 18-24 year olds?
Because the grandmotherly-type who was our nanny for two years got mad and quit after I refused to employ her full-time over the summer. Frankly, she just wasn't up to it--regardless of what she thought. She quit going upstairs (where the kids spend most of their time) and every time I came home she was doing crosswords downstairs while the kids ran amok. She started refusing to drive them places, and the was increasingly hostile toward PS. She needed to go, and I was glad I didn't have to fire her, but the twins were devastated by her sudden disappearance.
And because I like for my girls to have upwardly mobile role models. Girls who are in school and are working toward their goals. Because the older women who have applied for these position (and I almost hired one the last go-round) have not generally had great career aspirations. They just need something to pay the bills. (Of course, there are nannies who see it not as a job, but as a career, who are educated and have excellent qualifications. These nannies are generally seeking full time positions and pay beyond my budget.)
Because my girls like hanging out with younger people, and getting advice from them. (PS has been texting our former nanny with all her high school questions.) And because the younger people can help with homework.
And so, here we go again. I did find several local girls who are home from college for the summer and interested in hanging out with my girls, so I guess I'll spend this weekend interviewing. But even with all the trouble, I think in-my-home care is best for me and my girls. Especially as they get older. At least one of them is doing a half-day camp every day this month. And I just realized TT has summer band through half of August. I have no idea how we'll get them to and fro without someone to run them around.
6/10/12
Separation Anxiety
My twins are struggling with their twin-ness lately.
One moment they are inseparable, and the next they are about to kill each other. Each is desperately trying to establish her own identity.
SS is the ultimate girlie-girl. She loves all things pink and sparkly. She must be fully accessorized before leaving the house, and she has been experimenting with new hairstyles. She is going to Fashion Camp, her first time at overnight camp without her sister, and the longest time they will have ever spent apart.
TT is a total tomboy. Thanks to PS's taunts that real tomboys can't wear pink,she has started eschewing the ever-present color, she refuses to do anything with her hair, and she loves in soccer shorts and t-shirts. She is doing zoo camp and seems born to be a veterinarian. (She did let me paint her toenails today, but only because I bought a gorgeous blue from OPI's Spiderman line, and topped it with red crackle, which looks "awesome.")
Today we started cleaning out the office/sewing room/guest room to make way for TT. She and SS voluntarily share a room, but they have been fighting and picking at each other a lot lately. I think it is time for each to have her own space that suits her own personality.
SS will keep her current room, which is painted hot pink and covered in black polka-dots (this preceded TT's hatred of pink.)
TT will get the new room, with a fresh coat of Sea Breeze-colored paint and new teal bedding with lime green accents. Hopefully having the option to retire to her own space when her sister is driving her batty will keep the girls from fighting so much. But I'm betting one of them still ends up in the other's room at night.
And PS is thrilled with all this switching around because she has inherited my huge desk/sewing table. She spends nearly every waking moment drawing (I'm stunned at her talent--I can barely draw a stick person) and is drooling at the huge workspace. Also, I told her that if she cleans out her cluttered-packrat room, I will paint her room at the same time we paint TT's new room. She now hates the pale pink room that she begged for when we moved into this house 8 years ago. She wants black. I said no (do you have any idea how many coats of paint it will take to cover a wall with black???). I think we'll compromise with purple.
One moment they are inseparable, and the next they are about to kill each other. Each is desperately trying to establish her own identity.
SS is the ultimate girlie-girl. She loves all things pink and sparkly. She must be fully accessorized before leaving the house, and she has been experimenting with new hairstyles. She is going to Fashion Camp, her first time at overnight camp without her sister, and the longest time they will have ever spent apart.
TT is a total tomboy. Thanks to PS's taunts that real tomboys can't wear pink,she has started eschewing the ever-present color, she refuses to do anything with her hair, and she loves in soccer shorts and t-shirts. She is doing zoo camp and seems born to be a veterinarian. (She did let me paint her toenails today, but only because I bought a gorgeous blue from OPI's Spiderman line, and topped it with red crackle, which looks "awesome.")
Today we started cleaning out the office/sewing room/guest room to make way for TT. She and SS voluntarily share a room, but they have been fighting and picking at each other a lot lately. I think it is time for each to have her own space that suits her own personality.
SS will keep her current room, which is painted hot pink and covered in black polka-dots (this preceded TT's hatred of pink.)
TT will get the new room, with a fresh coat of Sea Breeze-colored paint and new teal bedding with lime green accents. Hopefully having the option to retire to her own space when her sister is driving her batty will keep the girls from fighting so much. But I'm betting one of them still ends up in the other's room at night.
And PS is thrilled with all this switching around because she has inherited my huge desk/sewing table. She spends nearly every waking moment drawing (I'm stunned at her talent--I can barely draw a stick person) and is drooling at the huge workspace. Also, I told her that if she cleans out her cluttered-packrat room, I will paint her room at the same time we paint TT's new room. She now hates the pale pink room that she begged for when we moved into this house 8 years ago. She wants black. I said no (do you have any idea how many coats of paint it will take to cover a wall with black???). I think we'll compromise with purple.
6/8/12
Exercise in Patience
You have not shopped until you shop with three girls--two of whom hate shopping and hate anything pink or sparkly. It is really hard to find tween girl clothing is not pink or sparkly. And my girls have each selected a preferred color; nobody else is allowed to buy anything in her sister's color. SS is pink, TT is teal blue, and PS is purple. It is exhausting finding things they like that meets their preferences. But our trip was a necessity.
SS is heading to fashion camp in a couple of weeks, and needed some things to take along. She is the easy one, though.
TT wears nothing but t-shirts (usually super-hero t-shirts). She is a self-proclaimed tomboy and refuses to wear anything that might be girly. When I asked her if she had a nicer shirt to wear to take-your-kids-to-work day today, she said, "my aeropostale polo shirt." Yes, in her world an aeropostale polo shirt is her "nice" shirt. (I guess if it has a collar, it's nice.) Preferably paired with knee-length khaki shorts.
After much searching, we finally found a teal blue shirt with no ruffles or sparkles. It technically falls into the t-shirt category, but it has some details that make it cute and summery. Good enough. At least there are no graphics or words on it. But I also got her a consolation "I heart Star Wars" t-shirt for enduring our shopping trip.
PS wears nothing but black and dark purple. And she has recently informed me that she doesn't like to wear shorts anymore--all she wants is black skinny jeans. (Yeah, we live in a place where our summers regularly include triple-digit days, and I don't wear jeans ever between May and October.) But none of her clothes fit. She's shot up to within 2 inches of my height and has started to fill out into regular-person size instead of beanpole-kid size, gaining a full 2 sizes in the last 9 months.
But, OMG, she won't pick anything out. She hates everything that I pick out. Shopping with her is torture, but the kid is literally bursting out of her clothes. We made it home with a pair of skinnies and a pair of shorts (we'll she if she decides they're not so bad come our first 110 degree day). I've never met another teenage girl who wouldn't pick out new clothes.
An hour-and-a-half was all I could take. And for all my complaints, it was nice to have some time with my girlies.
SS is heading to fashion camp in a couple of weeks, and needed some things to take along. She is the easy one, though.
TT wears nothing but t-shirts (usually super-hero t-shirts). She is a self-proclaimed tomboy and refuses to wear anything that might be girly. When I asked her if she had a nicer shirt to wear to take-your-kids-to-work day today, she said, "my aeropostale polo shirt." Yes, in her world an aeropostale polo shirt is her "nice" shirt. (I guess if it has a collar, it's nice.) Preferably paired with knee-length khaki shorts.
After much searching, we finally found a teal blue shirt with no ruffles or sparkles. It technically falls into the t-shirt category, but it has some details that make it cute and summery. Good enough. At least there are no graphics or words on it. But I also got her a consolation "I heart Star Wars" t-shirt for enduring our shopping trip.
PS wears nothing but black and dark purple. And she has recently informed me that she doesn't like to wear shorts anymore--all she wants is black skinny jeans. (Yeah, we live in a place where our summers regularly include triple-digit days, and I don't wear jeans ever between May and October.) But none of her clothes fit. She's shot up to within 2 inches of my height and has started to fill out into regular-person size instead of beanpole-kid size, gaining a full 2 sizes in the last 9 months.
But, OMG, she won't pick anything out. She hates everything that I pick out. Shopping with her is torture, but the kid is literally bursting out of her clothes. We made it home with a pair of skinnies and a pair of shorts (we'll she if she decides they're not so bad come our first 110 degree day). I've never met another teenage girl who wouldn't pick out new clothes.
An hour-and-a-half was all I could take. And for all my complaints, it was nice to have some time with my girlies.
6/3/12
Working Mama Madness
I awoke this morning for the first time in months having slept through the night and without the foreboding weight on my chest that has been persistently awakened me for the past several weeks.
I slipped out of bed, my ipad and book* in hand, to enjoy a leisurely morning reading on the sofa, while the rest of the family snoozed. My fatal mistake was taking the ipad and reading my email.
My nanny tendered her notice. She will only be with us through the end of the month. Never mind that she has only been with us since February, and I was explicit in my interview that I needed someone who was available through the summer. Never mind that my children are devastated at the thought of saying goodbye.
So my leisurely morning was ruined, spent trying to figure out what I was going to do with my children for the summer. We had pretty much decided that we didn't need a nanny once school started. My girls will be 11 and 14--6th graders and a freshman. But I don't want them stuck at home for 10 hours a day, all day, through the summer. The point of the nanny wasn't so much for supervision (she was only coming in half days, anyway), but to have someone who could get the kids out of the house for a few hours each day and ensure that their eyes didn't glaze over and that their behinds didn't become glued to the sofas from watching television and playing video games all summer.
I think its unlikely I will find a replacement for a 7-week tenure--although maybe I will stumble upon a college student home for the summer. The more likely option is to put the twins into day care. Where they will be the oldest kids there and stuck away from home, all day, every day. And PS will be stuck at home all day, every day. Ugh, I don't like that plan.
It is just so frustrating to have to go through this again. I interviewed at least a dozen candidates for this position, and it took me weeks to find the right one. I emphasized that I needed someone who could commit through the summer--that my girls were still struggling with their last nanny going to college (she visited last week and they were so thrilled to see her!) and that they needed continuity. And I had asked several times recently if she needed any particular days off over the summer, and when she would be starting school in the fall, without response.
I don't know what to do. I'm tired of thinking about it. At least we have a couple of weeks.
* The book, "Into Thin Air." I plowed through it in less than 24 hours after picking it up from the library yesterday. It is about a deadly 1996 expedition to Mt. Everest. I became interested in the book after reading a news article last week about several recent deaths on Mt. Everest, and the shocking number of lives the mountain has taken over the years. I had no idea the climb was so deadly, and now I'm obsessed and moving on to books from the other participants in the '96 expeditions. I've never really had any particular fascination with Everest, and I'm not sure why it's suddenly piqued my interest, but I did enjoy the book.
I slipped out of bed, my ipad and book* in hand, to enjoy a leisurely morning reading on the sofa, while the rest of the family snoozed. My fatal mistake was taking the ipad and reading my email.
My nanny tendered her notice. She will only be with us through the end of the month. Never mind that she has only been with us since February, and I was explicit in my interview that I needed someone who was available through the summer. Never mind that my children are devastated at the thought of saying goodbye.
So my leisurely morning was ruined, spent trying to figure out what I was going to do with my children for the summer. We had pretty much decided that we didn't need a nanny once school started. My girls will be 11 and 14--6th graders and a freshman. But I don't want them stuck at home for 10 hours a day, all day, through the summer. The point of the nanny wasn't so much for supervision (she was only coming in half days, anyway), but to have someone who could get the kids out of the house for a few hours each day and ensure that their eyes didn't glaze over and that their behinds didn't become glued to the sofas from watching television and playing video games all summer.
I think its unlikely I will find a replacement for a 7-week tenure--although maybe I will stumble upon a college student home for the summer. The more likely option is to put the twins into day care. Where they will be the oldest kids there and stuck away from home, all day, every day. And PS will be stuck at home all day, every day. Ugh, I don't like that plan.
It is just so frustrating to have to go through this again. I interviewed at least a dozen candidates for this position, and it took me weeks to find the right one. I emphasized that I needed someone who could commit through the summer--that my girls were still struggling with their last nanny going to college (she visited last week and they were so thrilled to see her!) and that they needed continuity. And I had asked several times recently if she needed any particular days off over the summer, and when she would be starting school in the fall, without response.
I don't know what to do. I'm tired of thinking about it. At least we have a couple of weeks.
* The book, "Into Thin Air." I plowed through it in less than 24 hours after picking it up from the library yesterday. It is about a deadly 1996 expedition to Mt. Everest. I became interested in the book after reading a news article last week about several recent deaths on Mt. Everest, and the shocking number of lives the mountain has taken over the years. I had no idea the climb was so deadly, and now I'm obsessed and moving on to books from the other participants in the '96 expeditions. I've never really had any particular fascination with Everest, and I'm not sure why it's suddenly piqued my interest, but I did enjoy the book.
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