the girl who is putting this down for posterity

Matthew "isms"

"Mommy, you're the beee-yoo-tiful Mommy in the whole wide world!"

"How do I look? Am I ADORABLE?"

"Mommy, I'm so thirsty, my stomach is KILLING ME!"

"Mommy, I love you two hands AND two feet!"

"Tarter Sauce!"

head-ick=headache
rogocheese=macaroni and cheese
cutterbutter samwich=peanut butter and jelly sandwich



just putting them down so I don't forget them

the girl who feels like doing an HR post

I love my job. I'm coming right out and admitting it. Not just the work I do, but the environment I do it in. If there were an Almighty Employment God whose sole purpose of existence was to match people according to personality and professional ethics to create the most ideal working atmosphere, well, suffice it to say, my getting hired would have been a major feather in their omniscient cap.

So why do I love it? The work itself appeals to me. The location is close to my own little personal bubble in Orlando. The job is challenging enough that I don't get bored and routine enough that I have confidence in what I do. I get a fair amount of perks, a fair amount of personal control and responsibility and a nice little office that is organized exactly how I like it. On top of that, I "get" my employer, so that the little idiosyncrasies that may make him the boss from hell for some people are recognized and respected so that I never take the blow ups personally, but always seriously. And the company does care about its employees, so that's good. And they recognize the job I do and the value that I contribute. My opinion--while at times directly opposite of the powers that be--is respected and taken into consideration. And then there are the people I work with. I think that we have formed a close little group. Scratch that. The close little group was there when I arrived, I just fit in perfectly, as if they had been holding a spot for me all along.

So there is the gushing. I can't help it. The old maxim "Everything happens for a reason" always seems so trite when uttered (comfortingly) in a crisis. However, it is one of those platitudes that only is recognized as wisdom in hindsight.

Now to the actual HR content: the economy is floundering. People are getting laid off left and right (two similar businesses just laid off 200+ workers between them this week) and you can't help but feel the effect in HR. Now, one would hope that this would create an environment of healthy competition where employees would recognize how lucky they are that their workplace has not had to resort to such measures. I would hope that it would inspire new heights of employee performance, where each employee does their best to go above and beyond and prove their worth as an employee. But that is not to be. Unfortunately the competition as not been directed at improving one's personal performance. Instead, I've seen a rash of backstabbing and throwing co-workers under the bus. Positively Junior High reactions. "Well, instead of me working harder, I'll just point out how everyone else is screwing up, then I'll be safe."

Here is a lesson: it does not make you safe. It points out that you are NOT a team player. Why do I enjoy my job so much? because I am part of a team, on every level. Employees need to recognize that supporting their teammates so that the entire unit achieves success is a much better job-retention ploy than pointing out their co-workers' faults and failings. That kind of negativity is poison. A cancer. And once HR figures out where the tumor is located, its best to remove it.

Likewise, now is not the time to gripe about compensation. NEVER tell your supervisor you "should be" making more money. Let me spell it out to you. YOU accepted the position you are in at the wage you are making. YOU made the decision to get out of bed, shower, perform whatever morning ritual gets you going, get into your car and come to work. And YOU will decide on how well you perform to KEEP receiving the wage YOU agreed to when you took the position. Compensation is the most immediate reward, but what about the intangibles? A good work environment, location, benefits? It isn't ALL what shows up on your paychecks, and face it, very few people are ever going to be satisified with what they get paid. A good employee SHOULD always want more because it is the most tangible reward for a job well done. But a sense of entilement for a better salary is never going to beat good job performance. I don't want to be the hardass, I simply want everyone to be as happy with their job as I am. We all work on the same team. So if you don't like the conditions, leave. Simple as that.

With 200+ industry workers recently made available for employment, I don't think there will be an issue replacing you.

So I urge everyone to find what aspects of their job make them happy and work on fixing those that don't. Either suck it up and fix it, or leave. Above all else, be a GROWN UP about it and remember, everything happens for a reason.

the girl who welcomes fall

The past month (van drama notwithstanding) has been packed full of fall activities:


Starting school and sending my new Kindergartner off. giving Zack the responsibility of walking his brother to and from.

watching clouds with Matthew-"Look, Mommy! A castle! A bear! A piece of candy!"

Going to open houses at school and learning that Ian's Kindergarten class (and all of the others) is overcrowded so they are hiring a new teacher and dividing up the classes. I hope Ian keeps his pixie-teacher. She's perfect for him!

Dealing with the first cold brought home from school as it sweeps through the house. Little bit seems hardest hit. Constant glazed donut face.

Likewise, dealing with Eli's first brother-induced injury: a black eye and cut.

Going to Draven's b'day party and getting to splash and play in the bouncy houses. Good times.

Getting Island Jen to take photos of me throwing Eli up into the air over and over to get the perfect shot. Some may call it child abuse, I call it scrapbooking! (lol!)

Meeting Claire and marveling in how laid back her parents are. They are pros already!

Starting violin lessons for Zacky. Pray for me.

Buying new shoes and new glasses. (pictures will follow)

Trying to scrap and not being able to sustain the creative process. My scrap space is a MESS and it is stifling me. But facing the prospect of losing a scrap night to organize puts me off too, so I just wind up throwing something together from what comes to hand and then throwing it all back into the cabinet. So unlike me.


And finally, a day like today. Cleaning, grocery shopping, laundry avoiding and an apple pie. The perfect end to a 90 degree fall day!

the girl who is mellow

or at least I'm trying to be. Thanks to everyone who responded about the van. I'm still hashing it out with the insurance company and driving hubby's beater. Hopefully, I can get this resolved soon, but I'm having to prove a negative here. I have to prove I didn't take my own van, crash it and then report it stolen. Which, in theory, I understand the need for because of all the dishonest people out there. However, theory doesn't mean much when I can't put my whole family in a vehicle and roll out.

Seriously though, if I had a dollar for everytime my insurance agent told me that if it were just a straight collision case and I didn't have the theft report in there it would be so much easier...insert significant look and pause here...then I could have bought a new van already. I promise, on my children's heads, that some asswipe took my van and that I was not involved, had no knowledge before or after of the perpetrators and I am not running an elaborate insurance scam. Because really, I'm coming out the loser at the end of this anyway.

On to better things...I went to a crop last night that boasted an apearance by Rebecca from Fiskars (and won a "Leave it to Weaver" punch!) It was good to get out of the house and crop for a bit. I also have found a "must have" that might encourage me to actually use the stamps I have. Voila...the "stamp Factory!" Don't you want one?

I happened to sit at a table filed with woman making paper pieced pages for eBay. Yes, not for their own family albums, but to sell on eBay. they came equipped with hundreds of pieces of cardstock pre-cut by their cricuts to chalk and shade and piece together and an equal amount of printed examples of pages that had already sold on eBay to copy and reinterpret.

Now, I am not going to bash these women for making a living with their hobby. (or at least paying for their supplies with the profits) I know its an outlet for them just as it is for me and they certainly were having a good time. I just don't scrap that way or that style, so I felt like the Sesame Street game of "One of these things is not like the other" sitting at their table, using pre-made embellishments and letter stickers with nary a paper pieced teddy bear to be seen. It just goes to show, when it comes to art, there is no "right" or "wrong" way.

Now I'm going to quit stalling and get to work on my latest project for work: a power point presentation of our benefit plans. I've reached new levels of geekdom, now that I've discovered PowerPoint. No presentation will be safe from now on!

Happy weekend!

the girl who is super pissed

So, some idiots stole my van and then wrecked it about 100 yds away from the complex that they stole it from.

Yes, you read right. Some idiots out there stole a MINI VAN! With CAR SEATS in it. I mean really, where is human decency? It's not like its worth anything for parts and certainly worth more to me than anyone else. This is my primary mode of transportation for myself and FOUR CHILDREN. A fact they certainly could not have escaped the notice of the oh, so bright thieves as they had to unbuckle the car seats and shove them to the side to get anyone into the back. Which, apparently they did. I'm surprised they didn't just chuck them to the curb. But hey, small favors, huh?

And then, to wreck it pretty much as soon as you make the turn out of the complex? I mean, really, you can go to jail for this you know, so why not at least make it worthwhile. A hundred yard joy ride just doesn't see worth it in my book.

Then again, I'm really not socially equipped to think like a criminal. Example: let's play the super powers game shall we? You can have any super power in the world, what would it be? Well, when I play this game, inevitably, I think of ways where I could profit from said super power so I can improve my family's life. (I think that's just human nature) But it always backfires on me. Say I give myself the power of telekinesis, moving objects by sheer force of my mind. How can I get that to profit me (without revealing my superpowers to the world, of course)? Well, I could move that stack of money right out of the bank into my purse, right? Wrong. because this is where my lack of criminal savvy gets in the way. You see, I have worked enough retail and, yes, even accounting, jobs to know that when money is involved, there are always checks and balances to keep track of said money. I visualize making this undetectable little appropriation and I can't help but visualize along with it the consequences. Not for myself as I have superpowers and am, therefore, undetectable. But for the poor person who will end up taking the fall for the missing money because they just happened to be the one in charge of that till.

See? I can't consider a wrong action without thinking of how it effects other people. So I certainly can't visualize taking a mini-van loaded to the gills with car seats, knowing that this will deprive a family of needed transportation.

I mean, really, WTF?

My mother and I had a "kids these days" conversation last week, and this just really is the perfect example. So little respect for yout fellow human these days. And its not that lack of respect for humanity is really anything new, it just seems more prevelant. The mouths of some kids these days! And the scrapes (a mild term) that children get into! I mean, an 11 year-old just held up a Walgreens last night! (not kidding) What was I doing at 11? I think the extent of my mischief was riding my bike out of boundries (which were considerable) or coming home from a friends house late (and late was coming home past dusk). My kids don't have that freedom, and I regret that. But I'd rather regret their lack of childhood freedom than regret that they fell into the wrong crowd because I didn't supervise their activites enough.

My mother and I placed the blame with parents. (It always comes back to parenting) But how do you fix that? Especially when there are stories like this out there? Neglect, abuse, general apathy--all causes. And you know, the economy doesn't help. how can you be a proactive parent when you have to work 9 hours a day (or maybe more if you need to have more than one job) and your kids spend the majority of their time with daycare providers. And finding a good childcare provider generally means paying that premium, so, at the end of the day, you're working to pay your childcare bill. Or going with a less reputable (and therefore less expensive) provider and taking your chances? Is it any wonder that parents decide once their kids are in school, they don't need daycare anymore? Give them a key, tell them not to touch the stove and that's that? No supervision, no interaction, and then little Jimmy takes his bb gun to Walgreens and demands they empty the register.

Ah, but I could go on all day. It doesn't bring my van back. It doesn't pay the out of pocket expenses to go through the insurance process and, ultimately, get a check that won't pay for a vehicle, but maybe the down payment on another vehicle I can't afford anyway. All the bitching in the world won't bring back my van or my sense of "right" in the world. So I'll just leave you with pictures of what the idiots did to my car.

the girl who had a bad hair day and everything that followed...

A year ago I gave birth to this little wonder right here.

my little Eli-phant

So to celebrate his momentous milestone, we planned a joint party with some friends, one who has a birthday on Sunday, and my FIL who has his birthday Monday.

Saturday morning I wake up, do some housework and then set out to run errands to get ready for our get together.

I take Zack with me as the first order of business is to allow the boy to see again by getting him a haircut. We go to the same place we always go and I describe what I'd like to the stylist. "Surfer cut, chunky and shaggy, bring the hair in the back up to the nape, and shorten the bangs to above the eyebrows."

I was picturing something like this:

What we ended up with was this:

Not really the look I was going for. A brown football helmet with a circle cut out for the face. So I try again. I show the stylist a picture on the wall. I repeat, "chunky, shaggy, skater style, Zac Efron."

So she cuts and snips some more and Zack ends up with this do:

Definitely NOT what I had in mind. I'm sure its a good cut technically, but it is not what I described or what I showed from the picture. I was pretty disappointed and actually, quite mad. I had to go to Target next door, so I figured I'd walk around for a little bit and see if I could get used to it. If not, we'd go back afterwards and get a different stylist to see if we could fix it.

So we go to Target and I'm looking for gifts for my boy, our friend, and my FIL. I find these (Jen Jen, they don't make them in larger than 18 month size, but they DO have the cutest little robot hoodies up to 4T, thought you'd like to know.)

Gift for baby, check. Gift for friend, check. Gift for FIL...not so much.

So I call home and ask dh what a good present would be. He is absolutely no help whatsoever and in my present state of mind, I'm not really in the mood. The ensuing conversations had me in a state of extreme frustration. THEN I get the news that we are expected over at the friends' house ASAP as the birthday girl had been called into work. So no going back to get Zacky's hair fixed. So I'm frustrated at Zacky's hair, irritated at dh's "cooperation" (or lack therof) and now I'm in a rush too!

So I stop by Publix on way home to pick up the birthday cake. I had not been particularly enthused about any of the birthday cake designs in the book at the bakery and had not pre-ordered a cake. I figured, they were all so "meh" why spend the extra money on a trademarked design? I planned to just get a generic decorated cake from the cooler and have them personalize it. I grab one, give them the names and rush to pay and get home. After I finish paying, I'm walking out (in frustrated, irritated, rushed mood) with Zack trailing behind me, and I TRIP OVER A DISPLAY which sends me to my knees and the cake flying.

I had had it.

I broke down.

I covered my face with my hands and just gave up, crying in the middle of the highest traffic area at Publix with an embarrassed boy behind me and a squished mass of buttercream and marble cake in front of me.

A very kind bagger came over, and overlooking the insanity factor, helped me up, guided me back to the bakery and helped me get a replacement cake. He carried it out to the car, wished me well, and told me to bring Eli by to show him off. He was a lifesaver. I don't like breaking down in Public like that. I prefer to maintain the illusion I have it all under control, but it just seemed that all the little things were hitting me hard that morning.

In the end, I got my cake:

We went over to the friends' house and enjoyed it:




We found the world's tiniest frog swimming in the pool:

and generally had a much improved evening.

When we got home, I stripped Eli down and gave him another piece of cake for the gratitious icing shots. Let me tell you, this kid is pretty neat compared to his brothers. He barely got any on him! A trifle disappointing, actually. lol.

But, he certainly thought it was yummy!

Yes, that is the secret to neatness: lick your fingers clean!

And Papa Smurf was celebrating right alonf with us. If you ever wondered what happened to Parker, we passed him on to Papa Smurf. He fell in love with him and now he's not so lonely anymore. Parker has grown into a MOOSE! But he is still a huge old teddy bear.

Abuello has left, and he took Zacky with him. Yep, he has kidnapped Zack for the week and will return him next weekend. We talked on Sunday night and I told him I missed him already, the house was so quiet. His reply was, "I know why! My brothers must be sleeping!"

lol!

the girl who had a happy 4th

I will start this post by admitting we really don't celebrate the Fourth of July. It isn't that we are unpatriotic or anything: we simply don't like crowds. And the Fourth of July seems to be nothing but crowds.

However, I impulsively bought sparklers this year, figuring the boys were old enough to handle this trip to the emergency room on a stick. Plus, I wanted to try out this setting on my camera to see if I could get some cool shots. It all comes down to the photo ops, folks.

Then friends of Aramis' Dad invited us over for a barbecue and day in the pool for the following day, so we actually got out of the house.

And how does this fabulous holiday pay me back when I finally decide to acknowledge it?

It rains.

Don't we have some deal with the weather gods that it will not rain on the 4th of July? Seriously.

It had cleared up by the evening, and I got out the sparklers.

I cannot describe the chaos that ensued as soon as I walked out the door with sparklers in hand. It seemed as if every neighborhood kid converged on my doorstep insisting I give them a sparkler to play with. Being the mean mom that I am, I repeatedly said, "No, you need your parent's permission." It was amazing how many said "Oh, my parents let me play with hot molten fire on a stick on a regular basis, it really is no problem at all." So I took their word for it and grudgingly allowed a single sparkler each, praying there would be no opportunity for a lawsuit.

But I held some back, and after watching the neighbors light various incendiary devices in the parking lot, I tried again. And this time I got my pictures. Mission accomplished!

The next day, the weather gods smiled upon us and it did not rain. We went over to the aforementioned friends' house. They have a pool. My kids do not know how to swim. I have not been in a bathing suit since...well, I'm not sure since when, but I do know that it was at least one kid ago. Needless to say, the whole operation required an immense amount of courage.

I'm happy to say that I, all of my children and my spouse, survived. It was funny, Matthew couldn't wait to get in the pool and started stripping down (like he knew what he was doing) the second he saw it. Ian was dead set against the whole idea. Aramis had to wrestle him into swim trunks and practically throw him into the pool to get him to go splash in the shallow end. Zack was all for it and was begging me to teach him to swim.

Fast forward.

One accidental dunking and a snootful of water later, Matthew had enough of the pool and did NOT want to go back in. Ian was a little fish, staying in until the bitter end when I had to pull him out, kicking and screaming, lest I end up with a raisin for a son, and Zack decided learning to swim was not nearly as much fun as simple scooting around the edge of the pool by hanging onto the wall.

And what about Eli? Eli was chill. All the other boys, when introduced to the water, held on for dear life. Eli took to the water like he was born to it. Kicking his little legs in the water, resting serenely on the back of the obsequious inflatable aligator, and all in all, having a groovy time.

Besides the pool, there was the food. Every time I turned around, there was food being pushed upon us. The kids ate it up (if you'll pardon the expression) and pretty much had something in their mouth all day long. These friends decided they were in love with our kids, so when Aramis and I were tired and worn out, they shooed us home and we left the kiddos with them. We came home, did a little housework, took a teeny nap and three hours later, we picked them up again.

It was a nice break. We might do it again sometime.

the girl who has a three day weekend (and a migraine)

One is not caused by the other, I promise.

It just seems fated that I would have a terrible, horrible, no good day at work when I have a long weekend coming up.

First, it was a "but first" day.

I have to get these I-9's finished, but first I better check that blinking red light on my phone and return some calls, but first I better meet with the DOL Investigator, but first I better term someone, but first I better go to my meeting, but first I need to investigate an incident, but first I need to stop and listen sympathetically while someone complains about their performance review, but first I need to stop and listen sympathetically to their subordinate complain about the job he's been assigned, but first I need to go term someone, but first I better get an escort 'cuz he's a BIG guy, but first I need to talk to the owner, but first I need to get back to the office, but first I need to term someone else, but first I better get something to eat, but first I better take care of the dozen notes I wrote in my notebook, but first I better check that blinking red light on my phone AGAIN, but first I need to take care of the background checks of the dozen employees managers have hired despite the hiring feeze, but first I better get ready to go home, but first I better put my desk in some semblance of order, but first I better get those I-9's finished.

ugh.

Then I'm driving home and my cell phone rings. Yes, my cell phone. I haven't had one for about a year and I've gotten along just fine and what happens? The company issues me one. Now I can be reached night and day.

Yay.

Then I get home and the tingling in my scalp that always seems to preclude a migraine starts to intesify. It actually feels like I have bruises on my scalp. And I come home to a house full of boys whose every sentence starts with "Mommy, can I?" or "Mommy, I want..." in the highest pitched tones.

So I take some pills which are always unpredicatable. Sometimes they make me pass out within 20 minutes. Other times they bring the migraine to a terrible climax where I can feel every blood vessel in my head tighten and squeeze until I am literally tearing up and curled in the fetal position bargaining with the Flying Spaghetti Monster to just let me pass out and slip into peaceful oblivian, and other times--such as tonight--I feel oddly detached and energized. I feel the blood throbbing through my head, but it's relaxing, like a massage and the fuzzy blackness on the edge of my vision is just makes everything a little vignette. I tried to sleep, but my mind was restless, so I got up to read. And now I'm here, listening to people set of firecrackers a night early, and I particularly stress the NIGHT part.

So I'm a little grumpy.

At the same time, looking back on the day, it's just so nice to feel the stress again. To have something to do and to feel necessary. Even coming home to the four screaming monsters...they're MY monsters and they love me and need me, and I them.

Maybe it's the drugs, maybe it's the day finally winding down and giving me the opportunity to reflect, or maybe it's just me being the babbling idiot that I am, but it was a fulfilling day--migraine and all--and it makes me appreciate the long weekend that much more.

the girl who has been and come back (and has the pictures to prove it)

So today I went to Tampa to see this girl who was at the Hilton by the airport giving a seminar on leadership to the management staff there. This girl was my road trip buddy. We drove up in her hubby's Prius and might I say that is a neat little toy. When they make one that can fit a family of six, sign me up!

We had a wonderful conversation on the way up, talking about this and that and before we knew it, we were there! Princess met us in the lobby with sinful black and white cookies from TooJays deli and we all loaded up into the electric toy to go to the mall and have lunch. Um, sorry, brunch.


You can tell it was brunch because there were Mimosa's. And you can tell it was brunch with us because we took pictures of the Mimosa's. gee, you'd think we never got out of the house or something.
After brunch we walked around taking pictures. When we spied this lion we knew we needed to do a photo series with Miss Jen.
Remember this shot? This was taken the day of my baby shower, about a year ago. Also the last time we all saw each other. I think Jen has an affinity for lions (and black tank tops.)
Yeah, I had to get in on the picture taking too. Good thing those blinds were closed because I'm sure the people inside would have thought I was nuts.
Then, a stop at Ruban Rouge. A drool inducing scrappy store in Tampa. (Love this place!) I could have dropped a butt-load of money but restrained myself and walked out within my (very meager) budget. Proud of myself and a little regretful too.

While we were there we met Kelly Noel. Kelly is a HOF'er, a MMMaster, a member of the AC DT, and just an all around gifted scrapper. I recognized her name from her work and then made the (duh!) connection to her PeaName when she clued us in. We exchanged PeaNames and she said, "Ck42? I know you!"

I'm thinking to myself, "Kelly Noel recognizes my PeaName? She must have liked my lo's! Someone who's style I like likes me back! Woo Hoo!"

And then she says, "Yeah, aren't you the one who had a baby in her van?"

Cue deflating balloon.

Of course, we all dissolved into fit of laughter over it all. Jen made the pithy comment later, 'Well Jules, we all gotta be known for something!"

The next stop was a flea market to walk around in the heat and look for knock off designer handbags for da Jens. Me, not so much. But we got to hear some very interesting conversations between stall owners and management and see the place "where dollar store items go to die." I love this pic of Princess making her patented Elsie face.
I was hamming it up and mugging for the camera when this shot was taken. It was near the end of our lap around the (closing) flea market and I had wondered alound where the head shop was. It just isn't a flea market without a head shop. Of course, I had to explain what a head shop was to my poor, naive little friends, and then, I'm sure they wondered why and how I knew the terminology. But we won't discuss it here. All i'll say is that the explanation isn't nearly as salacious as you're probably thinking.

Then we took Princess back to the hotel and drove home. It was way too short of a visit. Of course, I talk to these girls every day , but I still miss our silly times together. Lots of one-liners between the three of us that would never translate well in print, but at one time jokes were cracked about everything from dictionaries to airplanes.

I love these girls and our good times together!

the girl who is road tripping!

In about half an hour I will be on my way to Tampa to spend a day with these two lovely ladies!

I can't wait!!!!

the girl who got cozy

I haven't really blogged about it, being uber cautious about mixing work and blogs, but I did finally break out of the unemployment rut about a month ago and landed a really good position. I'm HR Manager for a "Vacation Resort" (i.e. timeshare) and I am enjoying the daily challenges of my new position immensely.

During my job hunt, I was asked one of the standard "Why do you think you'd be a good fit for this position" questions. And I actually formulated an answer I think is perfect.

You see, deep down at heart, I am a nerd. I love spreadsheets and paperwork and filling in forms *just so.* I get a kick out of writing and reviewing policies and training manuals. I adore the minutiae of a finely crafted Excel Spreadsheet. Give me a place to make my mark and it will be alphabetized, indexed, labeled (with computer generated labels--not handwritten), and entered into a spreadsheet for easy reference. So an administrative office-type position totally fits that aspect of my personality.

On the other hand, I am also a "people person." I like interacting with people, I enjoy solving problems for them, and I love the chance to stand up in front of a group of people and give a presentation--even if it's merely to explain the open enrollment in benefits process.

Stick me behind a desk and I'm a happy camper, but if I don't have the chance to actually interact with the people behind the paper, I'll go a little insane and start organizing my paperclips in terms of size, condition, and general shininess.

So HR is a good fit for me I think.

So this new position is organizational nirvana for me. This company was without HR for about three months and prior to that had gone through three HR Managers in the space of a year. It's a little discombobulated and I'm up to my eyebrows in my element. Add to that the fact that this company (and all of its employees) is generally VERY HAPPY to have me there, and, well, we'll just say that being appreciated for the work that HR is can be quite intoxicating. Especially given the dichotomy in attitude about HR between my prior employer and my present.

The only downside to being appreciated and included is the meetings. I've never really had to use the calendar function of Outlook before as any meetings that came up were usually so few and far between that simply writing them on my page a day was sufficient. Now I pull it up every day. My whole day is blocked out in little segments of allotted time. One organizational tool that is starting to intimidate rather than thrill me.

Take tomorrow for instance: I go to work at 8:30 and my office is off property (although a mere 2 min away by car). I have a 10 o'clock meeting on property and then have allotted from 10:45 to 12 to set up in my site office to receive employees to take care of a paperwork compliance issue. From 12 to 12:30 I walk the property for my daily meet n' greet with the employees to remind them that they have HR again. Now, normally, I would think that my compliance meeting would be sufficient, but there is another meeting on site at 12:30. When that is over, I'll grab lunch and go back to my office (off property) to check email and phone messages. At 3, it's the weekly Staff meeting, which should end about 4. Then I can go back to my office and figure out something to do with the next hour and a half and leave around 5:30.

So a ton of metings, but not much work getting done.

Luckily, tomorrow is an extreme example, but the past two weeks it's seemed like I didn't start "work" until about 2 in the afternoon.

So today was a nice change. I actually was in my office for the majority of the day. It felt good. I can see my desk again and I made a dent in the piles. Barring the time to actually fulfill my compulsive need to organize everything, I've resorted to piles with sticky notes on top, file drawers with sticky notes for future organization, and stapled packets with sticky reminders of salient points and tasks buried within.

Post-it threw up in my office.

Oh! And I have a PaperMonkey! So she has been given the task of alphabetizing and labeling and sorting. Some of the piles are her assignments. Slowly but surely, I am restoring order to this little cubicle that is all mine.

So, knowing that tomorrow will be a royal pain in the patootie, my last task of the day was to set up new assignments for my PaperMonkey tomorrow. The clock was inching inexorably towards five, and I thought I'd cut out at the actual closing time. But, I just wanted to finish one more thing. At 4:54 the controller (who is always there well past me) packed up and announced he was leaving as the sky was getting ready to unleash the SPCA. I thought I'd be ok as I only had about ten minutes left on my little project. At 5:06, I shut everything down and heard the thunder. Between 5:06 and 5:10, the threatened thunderstorm reached its full potential. I looked out the door, realized that the wavy green blob thirty feet away HAD to be my van, even tough I couldn't make it out through the sideways rain. At that point I called home, turned my computer back on and worked for another hour until it stopped raining--or at least let up enough that I could drive instead of row.

I was warned about the tendency for the street in front of the building to flood, but the term "flood" seems rather mundane a term for the ravaging river sweeping tree limbs, construction cones and the occasional Ark along in its wake. I took the prescribed alternate route which only required a small outboard motor as opposed to a Coast Guard escort and eventually made it home.

I was late, I was damp, I was chilly from having to run the defogger (while being damp), and I was TIRED. So I decided it was a night to get cozy and, ignoring the lovely lady lumps of chicken in the fridge, I went to my go-to meal for damp weather.

Yep, grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup.

Of course, what I thought would be a simple meal, ended up with me being tethered to the stove for about 45 minutes endlessly slathering white bread with margarine and adding slices of processed cheese food as the kiddos snarfed them down and demanded more.

Even Eli got a sandwich all to himself and a sippy cup full of warm Campbell's Mmm-mmm Goodness.

Each kid (except Eli) had two sandwiches each (lovingly cut into dinosaur shapes with my special sandwich cutter--cool, huh?) and a cup of soup for dunking. Aramis had another two sandwiches, Eli and I had one each. Of course, I could have eaten more, but by the time everyone else had placed their order, i had gone through an entire loaf of bread and most of a package of cheese (a big one at that!). So I was left making a sandwich out of heels.

Yep, nothing better than a heel sandwich on a rainy day.

the girl who is putting away money now for the therapist bills

Here is a life lesson in parenting...ask a nine year old to clean his (shared) room before he is allowed to go outside and play on the first weekend of summer vacation and you will get:

• a lot of huffing and puffing and general stamping of feet
• an annoying whine listing all the reasons why the mess is not his fault
• angry, pouty, tears
• and a LOT of yelling and screaming and general bossiness directed at his younger brothers

Eventually you will grow tired of the noise coming from the room in question because now you have not only a po'd, frustrated and yelling nine year old, you have a sulking five year old throwing things, a screaming, crying four year old, and a nearly one year old squealing in delight at the action being played out before him.

The prudent parenting reaction would be to take the nine year old out of the equation for a moment and explain to him in your deadliest-I-am-being-serious-ignore-me-to-your-peril-voice that if he would just STOP the yelling at his brothers, buckle down and DO IT, then he could be outside (and, not so coincidentally, out of your hair) playing on his new Razor scooter in less than an hour, but by continuing to yell at and boss his brothers around he is not only prolonging the chore at hand, but he is also creating a situation guaranteed to work his mother's last nerve and ensure that somewhere along the line there will be CONSEQUENCES and he most likely will NOT like them.

If you are extremely lucky, this will work, the room will be cleaned, the boys will be let loose to wreak havoc on the neighborhood and you can go back to folding laundry in (relative) peace.

However, if you are me, you will get this little gem:

"But Moooom! I just have anger management issues!"

the girl who is a word nerd

I admit it. I love words. Especially big ones. Any chance I get to use a $10.00 word in the place of a measly 25¢ word, I get a little giddy.

Which is why I got a particular warm fuzzy feeling deep in the cockles of my soul when I ran across this phrase: "hermeneutic of stupidity." So much so that I had to run to Dictionary.com and look it up.

(did you go? I even put a link there for you. Go ahead, do it. I'll wait.)









Cool, huh?


Doesn't that sound so much cooler and more professional than saying, "He is such a dumbass, I really don't need to explain to you how he f****d up, you should be able to guess."

And so I learned a new word today. I am fulfilled. I am proud. I must use it in a conversation to which Princess will go, "What the heck is she talking about?" and then life will be complete.



On another note, sorry on the poor blogging. I'm kinda keeping things on the dl right now since I want to enter MMM and I'm saving all my pictures and cute stories for that. Apparently, posting them on a blog only a handful of people read would still violate the MMM rules about not sharing ANY part of an entry online.

So quick recap and you can email me for any in depth stories: I got a job (!!!) which is a ton of work but I love the challenge, got the offer the day after my old job asked if I'd consider coming back (ha!), we had Mother's Day and I got force fed cereal in bed, Matthew broke a toe, limped hideously until we took him to the Emergency Pediatrics and then was fine, Zachary turned 9 and got a scooter and was promptly grounded the next day for taking a mile when he got his inch in new privileges, I'm super pissed at some people (and I'm deliberately NOT using their new pet names because my mother reads this blog and I've probably shocked her enough with my "dumbass" and "f*****d" earlier) who screwed over my Florida family, and I've taken a TON of awesome pictures lately!

whew!

Anyway, entry for MMM is due July 31st and I'm not really certain when they announce (and will deliberately try to avoid cementing that little factoid in my mind) so things may be sparse for a bit. Never fear! I will probably break down and do some sort of nonsense post (like this one) every now and again.

the girl who invites you to "Family Day"

Today started as a normal day. Wake up, get the kiddos breakfast, pop in a DVD to keep them occupied, make coffee and go sit on the porch with the laptop to really wake up.

At some point today that changed. It became "Family Day," a new official holiday for this clan.

And what sparked this? The Max and Ruby DVD I put in for the kiddos. Apparently, Ruby decided to throw a party for her family and the episode dealt with all the things required for the perfect party. Well, Zack got it in his head that he was going to do the same thing. While I groggily refilled my cup o'Joe and reminded myself that staying up into the wee hours scrapping was going to take its toll on my diurnal clock (go ahead, look it up, Princess), Zachary was corralling his brothers into tidying up the living room (!!!) and then decorating it with various blankets and stuffed animals.

He was making up games and creating a schedule of events. He was having his brothers create invitations for Mommy and Daddy and making sure that even the Luvvies were invited.


In short, I have a party planning prodigy on my hands.


Here is the schedule of events, complete with timeline!

Unfortunately, the party was just about to get started when some friends stopped by to play. I could see he was clearly torn, so I told him to go ahead and play, I had to go grocery shopping and we'd do the party tonight.

While I was at the grocery store, I was inspired by the marked down baked goods. So what if the cake is a day old? It's half off and I was in the mood to celebrate! So, I got us a cake and had it piped with the following:


The Baker gave me such a smile when she handed it off to me!

Ok, we have the makings of an official celebration now, don't we? After all, if it's written on a cake, it's cause to celebrate! lol!

So after unloading the groceries, we got down to the First Official Martinez Clan Family Day Celebration.

It started with Arts and Crafts:


We're making headbands and Macaroni necklaces out of ribbon from my stash I threw in the Kids' Arts and Crafts box.


Check out the tongue action! He is soooo is mother's son! (Seriously, it helps me concentrate!)

After Arts and Crafts, we had "Make Your Own Pizza." English Muffins (Mom and Dad used French Bread), some Pizza Sauce, Turkey Pepperoni (don't tell them, they'll suddenly decide what was fine when they didn't know is now disgusting), and olives. I made each kid a plate with two English Muffins split and spread with sauce, and then gave them another plate with cheese, pepperoni and olives. Completely on their own, they made faces!


While the pizza baked, there was dancing to Radio Disney and a lesson on how to "juggle" tissues courtesy of Zachary. I wish I had gotten pictures of that, but I was busy in the kitchen cleaning up the pizza mess and unloading the dishwasher. I peeked through the pass-thru occasionally and nearly busted a gut a couple times!

Next was dinner and a movie. Spider-Man 3 to be exact. I got a commentary from dh throughout the whole movie about what actually happened in any of the various comic incarnations and what was unique to the movie. Quite an education. I did marry a Geek, ya know.

After the movie, cake and ice cream. The boys argued for candles and I was happy to oblige. We all blew out the candles together, and even relit them since Matthew was a beat behind and was upset he didn't get to blow any out. Six family members, six candles.

And lest you think Eli was ignored in all of this family fun, Zachary made him a ziti bracelet, which turned into a teething ring, he was served a (naked) english muffin of his own with his dinner, and he got to taste cake for the first time. A good warm up for his birthday in just over two months from now. (!!!)


Actually, I think he did pretty well, considering. He managed to actually navigate most of the cake to his mouth with minimal (for an almost 10 month old) icing smearage.

After getting hopped up on cake and ice cream, the kids took their baths, got cups of our traditional nightcap of "hot foamy milk," (warm milk, flavored with vanilla, frothed by our improvised cappuccinno maker, and sprinkled with raw sugar) "Kiss, Hugs!" (our traditional name for tucking in) and nighty-nights all around.

How cool was that?

At the end of the night, I cuddled Zachary close and thanked him for making this such a special day. Mother's Day is next weekend, but I feel like it came early for me tonight.

I'll admit, these past couple months have been tough on me emotionally. I haven't had any luck in the job market and constantly worrying about the fall out of that has made me quite moody. However, it has given me so much time with my family, and today was a celebration of that.

So here's to the start of another great Family tradition, thanks to my wonderful son.

the girl who is victorious!

BOO YA! I won the scrappy challenge and have managed to keep up the pace and continue doing lo's. Just the kick in the butt I needed. Next up: MMM!

the girl who is bringing the PAAAAIIIIN!

Whew! and I even went to bed at a reasonable hour!

the girl who is upping the ante

doing time
The only punishment that seems to sink in with Mr. Matthew--the corner

"G"
Eli and his GranMary

Pumpkin Angel
My little bit snoozing in the Pumpkin Patch

Trouble
Self-explanatory, don't cha think?

So there! That's TEN layouts in 2 days. Although, only 8 that I am happy with. I believe tonight will end the competition and we shall see who is victorious! Although, in a way, we all are because we all will have accomplished something scrappy. I have a few more in my head just begging to be let out, so let's see what happens tonight!