Protected: Micromanagement

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Protected: Argh

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The most boring post EVAH

This is the kind of day when I am That Employee.

A few things have been crossed off my to-do list - for example, my voice mail says I’ll be out of the office, and my desk is clean - you know, the really pressing stuff. The reports, summaries, phone calls to return, documents to edit - this is a different story.

Whatever. I’m kicking time around until it’s respectably late enough for me to get out into this gorgeous day and officially begin my vacation.

I can’t wait to get Roo to his grandparents house. His personality is just exploding. In the last week, he’s said “dog” and “mama” (though sadly for me, Mama is the other one), and signed “finished,” “more,” and “thank you.”

Yesterday he figured out how to zerbert me. He would do it, look at my face, crack up, and do it again. 

This morning I zerberted him and he belly laughed and then signed “more.”

My kid is a freakin’ genius. No kid has ever accomplished such feats before.

Okay. That took about 5 minutes. Another 45 or so to go, I think. I’ve already exhausted I Can Has Cheezeburger, The Onion, and Go Fug Yourself. Also People and Us Weekly. I’m entering Dilbert territory.

Any suggestions?

Attention co-workers

Eating pickles, despite the old wives tales, is not a surefire sign that someone is pregnant.

I love pickles. I eat them whenever I get the chance. I am not pregnant.

Please stop making that joke. It was funny the first 31 times.

Kind of.

Food, marriage, business, and politics

 As usual these days, I have posts brewing in my head that just aren’t making it to the screen. So here are the lecks and shmecks for this week:

A few weeks back, the pediatrician gave us carte blanche to feed Roo just about anything he would eat. Suddenly, after months of being the most uninterested solid-food eater on the block, we can’t feed him fast enough. He’s eating 35-40 ounces of formula a day (I think this is what they mean by “eating us out of house and home”), plus 3-4 meals and a couple of snacks. Where does it go? He doesn’t even weigh 18 pounds.

Since the edict from the pediatrician, everything we’ve put in front of Roo has gone straight down the hatch, including, but by no means limited to: masala dosa, pickles, lemons, limes, grilled peppers, feta cheese, black beans with cumin and chili powder, spicy spanish rice, curried tofu, buckwheat waffles, and sauerkraut.

While this eat-everything-in-sight window is open, I want to give him as many things as we can. Any ideas about how long we get this before we get into picky-toddler eating?

***

NSG’s new business has suddenly come together. A few months back, we decided to start a family day care. With lots of ever-so-collegial TA from Clementine, we managed to get things off the ground and figure out systems and set-up. We got our first deposit - from the mom of a baby due next week - before we even advertised. And then weeks went by, we showed the place to a million people, and - nothing. We alternated who panicked on any given day. And suddenly last week all of our spaces filled up, and we’re even sitting on a waiting list. I’m not surprised, but I am amazed that it all came together like this. The best part is seeing how happy NSG is with this business. Nannying - which she’s been doing so she can bring home a salary and have Roo with her - just sucks. She works for a great family, and there are tons of perks, but it’s the nature of that beast. It’s time for her to be her own boss, and I’m busy doing the happy dance for her - and for us.

***

Thursday our state legislature is voting, for what feels like the 400th time, on the amendment to ban same-gender marriage. This is IT: if we kill it, it’s over, if it passes, it goes to a referendum. I’m trying not to feel pessimistic, but the get-thee-to-the-State-House emails are coming fast and furious, and everyone is being cagey about how the numbers look on the vote, which feels like bad news.

I can’t STAND the idea that our neighbors get to say have a say in what rights we get. The fact that they would have this say almost four years after we got these rights is just an extra kick in the teeth. 

Stay tuned. Roo and I will be down at the State House on Thursday, so I’ll write about it either here or over at Lesbian Family dot org.

On that note, I leave you with this (click the thumbnail so you can actually read it):

Protected: I don’t have time for this

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Wiped off the floor (*updated)

It’s been a rough couple of weeks - hence the absence of any posts of substance, or even much in the way of posts at all.

Last week the sleeping situation was so bad that we both felt like we were hanging on by our fingernails. I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say it was one of the hardest parenting weeks we’ve had so far (ptuh ptuh - may they all be this easy, right?). That seems to be improving, though s-l-o-w-l-y.

Work is kicking my tail. I’ve been running a program I’m supposed to be just overseeing since I fired the fool on Halloween. So far I’ve offered the job to THREE people, who have all turned me down. And this is busy season. The to-do list gets longer, and I’m reluctant to work late (and too freakin’ tired to go in too early) because I refuse to give up time with my Roo.

Sigh. Bitch. Moan.

This is all normal and mundane stuff, but it’s occupying a lot of my brain space these days. The balance of my work and the rest of my life is getting harder to find instead of easier. I feel like I’m dropping balls all over the place.

Does it get easier ever?

In the meantime, I am thankful every day for Roo’s stinkin’ cuteness. It’s saving me, including those nights when he’s up every 20 minutes. He’s combat crawling and starting to push up onto his knees. He’s going to be crawling for real in the space of 2 weeks, I’m guessing, and then we’re in for it. At his checkup the other day he turned up in the 90th percentile for length and the 20th percentile for weight; my child is a string bean. These are clearly not our genes.

I love how proud he looks when he gets up on his knees, and his little gasp of delight when he spots the cat.

I’m totally manic these days. Maybe the long weekend I have coming up - in Florida! - will do the trick. It’s hard to sustain all this kvetching when my to-do list includes digging out my bathing suit from the bin in the basement.

***

ETA: Oh, and did I mention that I was diagnosed with “baby-wearing knee?” You think I’m kidding. My knee has been hurting for 6 months, and my doc finally figured out that it has to do with the way I’m bending when I have Roo in the carrier. So now I’m in physical therapy three times a week for a month (at least). Good grief. Can someone please help me come up with a credible story that involves a snowboard or something?

My day kind of sucked, and here’s something nice you can do

It was one of those days.

 I dropped Roo off with my sister-in-law this morning, and the 2-mile trip took 50 minutes. He peed through his entire outfit just before we left (stupid mama forgot to tuck the diaper all the way into the cover) and had to have his entire outfit changed.

He started to cry as I was putting the car seat into the car, and melted down less than a half mile later because he was hungry. I thought he would make it to my SIL’s and she could feed him, but - again, stupid mama - what made me think a 3-month-old could wait for his food? When you’re 3 months old, hunger = emergency. And when you’re the mom, that means you’re pulled over on the side of the road sticking a bottle in your kids mouth.

And then changing a diaper.

Then driving some more.

Then pulling over again when he melts down AGAIN and sticking the bottle back in his mouth.

All while calling your sister-in-law, who is walking the dog in the park, on the phone over and over to get her new coordinates each time you think you’ll actually get to her without the baby melting down.

By the time I dropped him off, all I could think was Jennifer Connelly in Labyrinth, shrieking “I wish the goblins would come and take you away. Right now!”

****

I fired someone today. No, really. And for those of you who are thinking: so? It should be known that I am a die-hard non-profit worker. I haven’t earned a dime from a for-profit organization since I was a teenager. And let’s face it: no one gets fired in non-profits.

This woman was hired when I was on maternity leave. My supervisor got some red flags even before she officially started. Since I started - a whopping 4 weeks ago, including 2 part-time - there have been more red flags. And today we sat down to meet and she informed me that 1) she was unaware before she started that GLBT work was part of the job and 2) she had nothing against GLBT people, oh no, not her, but she was “fundamentally uninterested” in the part of her job that had to do with our GLBT programs.

Huh.

Dude. This 1) was included in the posting you applied for and 2) is one of the fundamental aspects of what you were hired to do. And, oh yeah - if you have to tell me that you have “no problem” with GLBT people, this is not the job for you.

We handed her her final check within 2 hours of that conversation. It really, really sucked. All the new people walked around this afternoon with their shoulders hunched, like they were waiting for the ax to fall again. 

**** 

And now for the something nice you can do… The always-beautiful Afrindie Mum has started a virtual baby shower for Alley, a pregnant woman whose life is really hard right now and who is having a hard time seeing her way to not relinquishing her much-wanted baby. Go check it out and put your many where your mouth is, my friends.

****

Now I’m off to sit on the front steps with my itty bitty pumpkin boy and hand out sugar to the already-amped neighborhood kids. I think things will look up.

Welcome to the monkey house

Down:

Tuesday: went back to work. Cried all the way there.

Up:

It wasn’t bad once I was there. Everyone wanted to see pictures. NSG called with updates about the boy every couple of hours.  He did great: smiley and laid-back all day at work with her.

Down:

Thursday was payback day. Roo was wiped out from his last few days. Too tired to eat, to hungry to sleep. I was bone-tired from a mere two days at work and wanted to be the one held and fed and loved. But he needed it more. We both spent half half the morning in tears.

Up:

In desperation, I put Roo in the magic carrier and took him to the park for a long, long walk. Less than half a mile in, he fell asleep. The park was stunning, all crispy leaves and auburns and golds and greens. I stood on a hilltop for almost a half hour, looking around, seeing no one, just breathing in and out - finally - and loving this little being snuggled into my chest beyond all reason.

Down:

Friday I stomped around the house feeling crabby and grumpy. Couldn’t quite figure out why. Was not very nice to a certain someone who didn’t deserve crabbiness and grumpiness.

Dreamt I was driving with Roo and suddenly realized he was in my lap, not in his car seat (see Spears, Britney) and panicked because I couldn’t find somewhere to pull over so I could put him safely into his seat.

Down:

Still crabby and grumpy on Saturday. Finally managed to get it all dealt with somewhat productively.

Up:

Date night! We actually went out without Roo for the first time. Roo hung out with his grandparents and trained them to change his diaper every time he cried - 4 times in under 4 hours, actually. We saw Cirque du Soleil, which made me want to go straight home and jump around and do flips on the bed.  Leaving the house together, without Roo, was almost surreal - we had 6 years without him and 11 weeks with him, but we still had to remind ourselves how to be together as two.

Damn, we’re good.

Now Monday: we start over. It’s so good, but someone please tell me: this will all get a little easier too, right?

2 days of work so far…

… and brain, thy name is mush.  How do people do this?

(I promise an actual post soon).