Saturday, January 31, 2009

Today..not my shining moment

I woke up disoriented. I actually felt rested. I went to bed last night expecting to be woken up around 7 a.m. since Quincy went to sleep so early. When I heard him stirring, I laid there for a few minutes and wondered why I wasn't still tired. Then, my alarm went off. This was the alarm I had set for 9 a.m. My child slept twelve hours! I blame all the coughing he's doing during the day.

I made myself late for work this morning because I was looking for sources for a research project for my little sister. When I picked up my son an hour ago, she still had not looked at any of it.

When I got to work, my boss thought I had overslept because I am *never* late when I work dayshift. It must have been the hair also. I left it curly yesterday instead of straightening it so I had curls sticking out in several different directions when I arrived at work. I wish I had known that, but I hadn't looked in the mirror yet. If I had, I might have thrown on a hat or at least combed it.

Since I was running late, I was not in uniform when I got to my pizza job. Had to finish getting dressed once I got there. That's when I discovered that I had my underwear on inside out. I left it because who's going to know? (except now I told you)

I managed to knock 30 boxes that I just folder over on myself today. I got in the way of person after person. I walked into a stack of dough trays.

Oh, and the only delivery I got to go on was across the street. It is not even a mile there. Also, I took that delivery on the phone and I put the wrong building down. I had to go the apartment office to figure out where I was supposed to go. I did get a $5 tip when I finally got there.:)

If you're wondering if my day went so well because I had my underwear on inside out, well, I thought of that also, but, really, this is just vintage me. Sometimes I just have days like this.

Now, I am going to curl up in my pajamas with my blanket and my Chinese food. Maybe the child will go to sleep soon?

Monday, January 26, 2009

Why I need someone else around

Besides the fact the my four year old cannot operate the camera.

I tried to take a picture of my own back piece. In the mirror. It would have worked out fine if I had eyes on the back of my head, but I don't. The picture came out a little lop-sided and not really close up enough. I'm making my husband retake it if he's ever home when I am awake.

It's actually 3 tattoos. Japanese Kanji. They mean, separately, Promise, Peace, Tranquility.
I interpret the piece as a whole to mean "The Promise of Peace and Tranquility."

It's the largest piece I have. I got it on a day in January in 2003. It was clear when I went in and snowing when I walked out.

It had been three and a half years since my son died and I was beginning to see the forest for the trees, so to speak. I had been walking in a haze for a while and I felt more clear headed than ever when I went to get this done. I actually felt like I might have peace and happiness in my life again someday. Not just fleeting moments, but lasting ones.

I was pretty scared to get it done because I have no other pieces on my back and this one is right on my spine. I thought that it might hurt and it did. I cursed a lot during it. The tattoo artist even lied to me a few times and told me that he was almost done. He wasn't. :)

It came out pretty good. I just need a clearer picture of it. Also, a not lopsided one.

Saturday, January 24, 2009


The other day, my son looked at me, pointed, and said, "Mommy, you are boring!"

I guess that was less insulting than the many times he has told me to stop singing, just stop singing now.

When I saw my husband, I asked him if he told our child to say that to me. He claims Quincy got it from TV. Whatever. He also told me that he thinks I am boring when I read a book or watch TV.

Pardon me, but I work 60 or more hours some weeks. Getting to read a book or watch TV is exciting to me. Add in the fact that I could not read a book, or only read maybe one book a year, for the first few years of Quincy's life and it's downright thrilling to read something besides Goodnight Moon.

I'm not really sure what I am expected to do that would be so interesting. I mean, sometimes something worth mentioning happens at school, sometimes something notable happens at work. Normally, I just complain about both, which probably is a little boring.

I think this all goes back to the need for a date night. The logistics of that escape me though. I work pretty much all week. My husband works when I am home. That's how we manage not to pay for childcare.

I'm still insulted.

I didn't used to be boring. I mean, I don't bore myself. I am probably boring you right now.

Back when I was single, people were always calling me, wanting to go out, and I went out. I would have rather stayed home a lot of those times. I always had a different significant other. I had my two schnauzers. I would have been happy sitting at home with them. I might have ended up that little old lady with the dogs if I had never asked out my husband. I guess then maybe I might have felt I was a little boring. Still, there is usually someone somewhere that shares my interests and I would probably have found that person.

But, like I said, as a well-read, educated, mother of a four year old who has had lots of life experiences to learn from, has some great body art with stories behind most of it, I don't find myself boring even if I am sitting around with a book.

*huff* Still insulted that my husband does. I had better get a really good Valentine's Day gift. One that does not require dropping hints for the next few weeks.

Thursday, January 22, 2009

Maynard the Wonder Dog!!!

So, you remember that mouse problem we had a few months ago? Yeah, I thought that was over.
Sure, I've heard a few squeaks here and there, but those were just the house settling, right? Or the wind?

Nope. I guess it was a mouse. Still in my house. Not anymore though!

A few minutes ago, my husband and I heard a little squeaking. I figured it was nothing, being naive and all. The dog took off though like he used to do when he was chasing a mouse. The mice were always too fast for him though. Well, not this one!

My dog caught a mouse!!!!! He killed it, too.

He also would have eaten it had my husband not quickly picked it up and disposed of it. My sister pointed out on the phone, "I wonder how many mice he's eaten when you weren't home to stop him?" I say, "Ewwwwwww!!!" to that.

Sunday, January 18, 2009

Bad Daddy?

I wasn't a psychology major. I have tried to read-up on what we can do as parents to make sure Quincy grows into a confident, trusting man. My mom has always been big on making sure they never tell him that he's bad even when he does something that is clearly wrong, like throws rocks at the car. He actually did that here at home, but it is a good example.

I have told my husband to be sure to tell him that he is acting bad or that whatever he is doing is not a good idea or not nice. Anything is fine with me so long as he doesn't get the impression that he is a bad little boy. He is definitely a frustrating, unreasonable, uncooperative child at times, but aren't all four year olds?

You can imagine my horror when I went to take him to my parents the other night while I worked and the first thing he told me when he got in the car was, "I'm bad." I immediately asked who told him that and he said that Daddy did. I kept repeating that Daddy would never say that and he kept telling me otherwise. We went back and forth. Quincy tearfully insisted that he was a "bad little boy" all the way to my parents. It's a 25 minute ride.

My mom promised to keep telling him how good he is while he was there and I went to work. I called my husband as soon as I got there and he denied saying that Quincy was bad. He said that Quincy had done something bad that day (he always has), but that he had not said that he was a bad little boy.

I still don't know where Quincy got this impression. It's not how I want him to feel about himself. We've done our best over the past few days to make sure he feels loved and feels like he does good things. He learned how to peddle his tricycle yesterday and was so proud that he called me at work to tell me about it.

We make sure to tell him when he makes good decisions and to point out bad choices. I guess that pretty much all we can do as parents.

Monday, January 12, 2009

Better Than Expected

Friday I subbed at the school I taught at last year. It was my first time back in the building since my contract was non-renewed last May. It was kind of scary driving up to the building and parking. I honestly thought that I might throw-up. I had no idea if I would be welcomed or not.

I walked into the front office to sign in and was immediately greeted with a smile. I was only subbing a half day so I knew that if it was bad, well, at least I wouldn't be there all day. Former students came up and greeted me happily all day. My classes were well-behaved.

I talked with an assistant principal who asked what I am doing now, where I am subbing primarily, and such. Nice small talk.

I ran into an EA who works in the English dept. and she said that she didn't know that I was subbing and that I should let people know. I'm trying to figure out what to say to my mentor from last year in an email as I type this. Have been trying to think of something to say that doesn't sound breezy and stupid in an email all afternoon. I didn't keep in touch with her over the summer and now the silence is awkward. I hate bridging awkward gaps. I am pretty inept at it.

Time to quit procrastinating and write this email. She isn't at school anymore to read it anyway.

Friday, January 09, 2009

I live with Hannibal Lecter


Last night, while yet again refusing to be agreeable, my child revealed his cannibalistic tendencies. A little background is necessary. I came home from school determined to cook my son a good meal. I gave him a snack of popcorn and then put the chicken in the oven. Before I put the macaroni on to boil, he began wailing for a cherry popsicle. While I waited for the water to boil, he continued his rant.

My husband decided that now was a good time to go run his errands. He apologized before he left.

12 minutes later and the macaroni was done. I mixed in the cheese, stirred the green beans, checked the time on the chicken. Quincy continued with his tirade. I called my sister to see if she had any ideas. Nope. None.

25 minutes in and he kept saying, "I want a cherry popsicle! I need a cherry popsicle!" I tried arguing that he didn't need one. Didn't work. I said, "I want a nice, quiet little boy. Maybe I'll go find one and bring him home? What would you do then?"

"I would eat him," answered my sweet little boy.

There you have it.

(He got the popsicle after he ate his dinner by the way. Yay for me! I said no and stuck with it.)

Tuesday, January 06, 2009

Ahhhh the 90's

That's me. 1994. Probably around September.

That's my boyfriend's room. He rented it for next to nothing. One room in a house. Communal bathroom. It was conveniently right across from campus.

I was 21. I had no grey hair, no wrinkles. I didn't even have my bachelor's degree yet. I had had a few bad experiences in life. Like that boyfriend. I had no idea. Wish I could tell myself never to leave him alone with an ex. Oh, and always knock.

We broke up sometime the next spring. I left him alone in that room with his ex while I went to take an exam. The exam was, ironically, in Marriage and Family. It ended early so I walked back across the street. I opened his door without knocking. He was in the middle of receiving head from his ex. I slammed the door shut and left. Went back a few days later to get my stuff.

He was my third most serious relationship at that point in my life. I guess you could say that I didn't have much success with young love.

Sunday, January 04, 2009

"I've got issues, yeah.."

(from one of my favorite Old 97's songs--"Big Brown Eyes")

Christmas has past. Maybe I should take down the tree, huh?

I wrote before about the huge differences between my husband and I. How they annoy me. At least once a day anyway.

I have decided that it's really that having a child has not changed him all that much. Having a child killed my spontaneity. I mean, what's spontaneous about it taking an hour to get ready to go grocery shopping? Or just getting out of the house sometimes? It has improved now that he's bigger, but still it's hard to do anything without planning. And my husband never makes plans. If he does have plans, it can be guaranteed he'll be at least half an hour late.

It all comes down to a sense of responsibility. Sometimes living with him is very much like living with a frat boy or my first roommate. I find beer cans/bottles on the kitchen counter when I get up. They are stacked in the garage--to go to recycling. I just don't buy the "I drink beer because I like beer" line very well. I would if he did not drink beer every night and wake up smelling like a bum every morning. That's a huge turn-off by the way. I hate the smell of stale beer in the morning.

I will admit to not being terribly responsible with money. I do budget and pay my student loans. I work around 60 hours a week to do that. There are things I'd rather be working at. Like editing. But how do you break into that field? I never see openings. It kills me that he is content with his pizza delivery job while waiting for his band to make it. I guess the flexible schedule works for him.

I also am not the best housekeeper and my husband cleans. He mops and sweeps. He does all the dishes. He cleans the bathrooms and the toilets. He folds the laundry. He has his pluses.

In this new year, I need to work on my issues. I want some change around here.