Blog's Growing up

It's just that time, you know, the time when the blog has to grow up.

From now on, my blog will contain thought out, interesting material that isn't just 'help my three year olds refuse to pee in the damned pot'.

It will reflect my wit, my intelligence, and hopefully, will generate more comments, though I LOVE the comments I get.

It will not, however, be as witty, intelligent and as well thought out as some other blogs. I don't think I have that much energy yet.

So, you may look forward to a more mature blog next week.

About some interesting and relevant topic not involving my moods, my potty training failures (unless I can make them funny) and my issues with thank you letters for job interviews.

I may even change the background...and stuff.

It's a bust

First interview, a bust.

I haven't heard anything since. So, considering it's a small, growing company that needs to fill a lot of positions fast, and I haven't heard anything....

....we're moving on.

I did send a thank you note, but I just don't think they are actually effective. Anyone disagree?

So now I"m dreaming about an air conditioned office working for a stable (ha ha) corporation with lots of promotion opportunities.....

Potty Training for Dummies

Someone...

Anyone....

What do you do when your three year olds show no interest in going potty?

RIGHT put on regular underwear under the diapers so they'll see how uncomfortable it is.

But... what if you do that... and they still don't care?

Anyone... anyone?

Post Interview

What can I say about it? First one in a few years, so I was nervous, rambled a bit, said a few UGH dumb things... overall did 'ok' but didn't really make my case, in my opinion. Definitely overdressed, but hey, not too crazy overdressed.

Did they like me? Sure. But I don't have agency experience. I don't know the secret handshake. I have writing experience, news release experience, working in crazy, chaotic fast-paced juggle three different fires situations, but for some reason, there is something about an 'agency' that is super super important that I don't have... I imagine it's 'well, you haven't drunken the kool aid yet sooo...' but perhaps I'm wrong, perhaps there is a big SECRET about working at an agency that requires that the only way to get into an agency is to have worked at an agency. Of course, since the only way to get into an agency is to have worked with one, I imagine that the only people who truly work at agencies were people who were born there...

Not that I'm griping or anything, I mean, HEY, they did interview me, which is huge, because lo though I walk through the valley of agencies, I never get an interview, not even a phone call asking if perhaps, I had ever visited an agency and drank some of their water....

And they may give me a chance. And I honestly believe If I did a better job at this interview, they would have hired me. See, if this was my third or fourth interview, I'd probably have a much better chance at the job... This group WILL hire non-agency people, though I believe there is baptism in kool-aid, but I am too raw /sigh... I said too many dumb things and not enough of the things I should have... not that I'm kicking myself or anything, and NO I was not awesome. I know awesome when I see awesome. I was not awesome... though hey, I DID manage to not get lost on the way there!

So it was eh.

Now on to mundate matters....

Day One of Intensive Potty Training

Aiden peed in his big boy pants.

Yep. Pretty exciting stuff.

My new philosophy is that my boys have absolutely no interest in learning how to use the potty. Why should they? Diapers are convenient enough...

So now, they are only allowed to wear diapers at night and when we go out. This means a few times a day we sit on the potty. This is Day One so getting them to sit on the potty was a battle. But, this is how it's going to be. They are ready, they just, um, have toilet avoidance issues...

I kept a secret....

No, it has nothing to do with impending babies...

So, with all the events of my mom, the stress of my children being oh, three and a half and ten and a half, and the multiple (okay, two) papers I had to write, I neglected to mention I went on an interview today for an actual job. Yes, that's right, I said 'job.'

I managed to get through the WHOLE thing without letting on that I had a horde I was caring for, but I didn't do as well as I wanted to. I mean, it's been three or four years since my last interview, give me some slack! It didn't go badly, though.

I will write about it more tomorrow, suffice it to say, if I hear one more time '...don't have agency experience..." i'm going to either a) cry, b) implode, c) explode or d) find a new industry. I mean, is there some secret handshake at the agency that's required? Some new language? What is so amazingly unique about agency experience that someone in the field couldn't possibly adapt and learn? ARGH.....



Later :)

Monday Monday

Well,

Monday is Monday. And isn't it ever! Drama Girl is home from school with aches and pains. Turbo and Bear are being very naughty jumping on the couch, blissfully unconcerned with time outs. The cats are hiding. The dishes are piled up from my absence this weekend and with all the focus on my mom, someone didn't get any mommy day stuff, but does get a weekend date this Saturday. Luckily, said mom bought herself a book for mommy's day :)

And rather than do the dishes, find the cats, and complain about the couch pillows being on the floor, I'm taking a coffee break...

Hubby McRed took the kids to visit his mom on mother's day which was sweet. My first comment on seeing them when I hopped in the truck and saw the two sleeping angels ,was, my, they look dirty.... seeing as they had dirt streaks over their faces, hands, arms, legs etc etc. They got to spend the entire weekend outside. LUCKY!

Well, off to the coffee pot for a refill... maybe i'll even pop a dish in the sink...

Soon be Back

Flying to Colorado tomorrow (or today, I'm very tired) and back to my life and mundane but sometimes slightly amusing posts.

This, after all, is La La Land.

Where I've Been

Yes, I've been missing in action lately.

I know I know, all five of you missed me.

I have just successfully finished another semester of my master's program. The last week was spent writing very long papers.

Also, it is now officially job hunting season. I hear we can hunt as many as we want, but we're only allowed to bag one.

I will be posting regulary again on Monday (I know you all just CAN NOT wait) but tomorrow I fly off to see my mother, who, as most of you know, is very ill with cancer. She's decided not to do chemo, so this is in a way, a good bye visit. I hope to cheer her up, and maybe, just maybe, get her thinking about her spiritual side. She's always been very religious and spiritual, but hasn't really, for some reason, been overly spiritual. She told me she just didn't think she was there yet, and I truly hope she does get there. She means the world to me, and I would like her to find some peace while she is here, rather than just waiting. We are all, her children and sisters, taking time to go and visit her in the next two months.

On that note, have a good weekend everyone. Wish my mother well, pray for her, if you're not the praying type, just take a moment to think of her. She's only 60, 61, so this is very hard.

Later all!

NFL Draft

Well.

I don't care about the NFL draft. I don't, and I'm not following it, nor am I asking Hubby McRed who picked who and who went where.... I certainly didn't log in to NFL.com to figure out the details of the Raiders trade to NE.

New England gets Randy Moss... WOOOOT. However, I wish they would stop positioning New England as the team to make it to the Superbowl. It's how teams get cursed. I want New England to make it, so lets stop predicting they will and wait til the actual season starts. And, for the record, seeing as I'm a New England native, no, as a matter of fact, I did not jump on their bandwagon.... it's not my fault my team rocks.

Hubby McRed is deeply concerned with Dallas' picks, and can't believe that the Dolphins didn't pick up Quinn, because, duh, they need a quarterback.

What I got

Yes.

I got one.

I did.

On sale at Overstock.com.

And there was another 8% coupon which made it even nicer, with free shipping.

Some might think this is excessive, however, I am the vacuum destroyer.

We have to replace our vacuums every year and a half or two.

I need an UBAH VACUUMA

Because Hubby McRed is frakkin' sick and frakkin' tired of having to always blow a freakin' 150 bucks on a vaccum someone in the house (moi') is going to trash in less than a year and a half....

If I manage to destroy this one, we may just eliminate carpet in our house altogether....

Soy is Dangerous. Tofu, too!

It is with great joy that I discovered the benefits of soy protein were far outweighed by the dangers.

Thyroidism! Breast cancer! Hormonal imbalances! Early onset of puberty in girls! Slowed development in boys!

The verdict?

Forget soy. Forget tofu. Eat polenta and pasta. They even taste good! Diet Coke is healthier!

For the past two (yes, a whole two) days, after reading about how wonderful soymilk and tofu was, I decided to try it. See all those Silk commercials touting the health benefits of soy? One-sided. I tried some light soy milk. Bleah. The vanilla and chocolate is good though. I tried variations of tofu. Bland, but not bad, neither here nor there.

Then, because I couldn't fathom how to eat the recommended 25 grams of soy (on the back of the Silk box, I should have known better) I looked up the benefits of soy, to see if it was really worth all that.

Ummm.... nope. Read all about the controversy!

It's not just there, either. It's here... and then over here

Okay that last one was just for a laugh but still, this is more trusty...

And finally,the Wikipedia version.

So I think the occasional glass of soy milk (chocolate, or vanilla, but not plain ewww) and some tofu or miso is fine, but I think I won't be eating tempeh or soy burgers, or soy stuff... bleah.

If it doesn't include most of the soy bean and doesn't have soy protein then it's to be avoided, I think....
... and while I'll eat some soy, I'm not inclined to try to add it to my daily diet.

I'll just stock up on some olive oil and salmon.

Now, there's a combo you can't go wrong with.

Bye Bye Baby

So we had three cats when we moved from Washington. But this house is laid out differently, and there is less room (until we finish the basement, but that's down the road) and the three cats hissed and fought and were not happy.

What do we do?

Nobody wanted the cat, even though everyone agreed he was wonderful (This right here is why I don't want to hear anything from people with the 'pets are forever' stories. When everyone is bloody miserable, something isn' working and it's not good for any of the pets. Also nobody wants your pet, they want to shop for their own. All the people that tell you they want your cat don't really, all the people you ask know people whom they are sure want it blah blah blah.) You can't just put it up on craigslist. Well, you can, but nasty, unpleasant things can happen to cats given to people on craigslist (PETA has a warning up). With the stuff with my mom going on, the constant cat dramatics and a berber carpet used as a scratching post, I couldn't spend months finding him a new home. So I took him to the humane society here, because happily, they don't euthanize their cats. In fact, unless the cat is seriously ill, he will stay there being fed, fat and happy until someone adopts him, which will not be long, since he's a big, fat, loveable, cuddleable, baby.

They asked why of the three cats we chose to give this one up. I said he didn't bond with anyone. (Also, if anyone would get adopted it would be him. I can't see anyone adopting my cat, who is so anxious and nervous that he throws up at the mere thought of change... twin birth, three days of yak. Car trip, peed on self in Nebraska. Attempt at dog, yak fest. Pet hotel here, shivering and shaking. I've had him for five years. I love his big eyes, I love his gray coat. I could do without the yakking. Then there's Drama's cat. Oh dear. Nobody but Drama girl likes this cat, though Hubby McRed sympathizes with her unique dislike of everyone, and her shyness and unwillingess to go near, oh, anyone else but Drama girl and occasionally Hubby McRed. So yes, nobody would be taking her, either, not to mention the severe emotional trauma taking the only, yes ONLY, pet that Drama girl ever had that actually liked her back would cause. (We are SOULMATES, she swears) The thing is, she really IS the only pet to return Drama Girl's affection. She sleeps at her head every night. She comes out for Drama girl. She plays with her hair. Drama girl pets her. She has a pink pet carrier in her room for her. Yes, that one could not, would not, must not go.

Which left the Biggest, Most Affectionate, Most Loveable, but for some reason, only cat that didn't bond with someone. Me personally, I think this family likes the outcasts, the outsiders, the problem children. We couldn't bond with Baby, his nickname, because he was, well, too good, too wonderful, too cuddly... how sad is that?

And what has happened the first night he left?

Nothing.

No cats chasing each other hissing across the house.

Drama girl's cat actually ventured into the open.

Everyone slept without having to wake up once to deal with a cat.

As I speak, Drama girl's cat is actually downstairs, eating, in the presence of another cat and myself.

Definitely I feel it was a case of the current environment not being able to hold three of them.

And yes, I am going to be pathetic and monitor his progress on their website to see if someone takes him.

Deadliest Catch

What is so interesting about this show? I mean, technically, it's a 'guy' show so I shouldn't even be interested in it.

Men, on a ship, the Bering Sea, fishing for crab. The weather is usually bad. In one season, someone, at least someone, usually not on the ships that have the tv crews, will die. Someone will be injured (at least). A boat will get damaged. There will be a crazy storm (usually, once a show). The crab season only lasts like 23 days in October. It's an insane show. But me? Me? I'm addicted to it. I even have my favorite captains, and occasional crew member I bond with occasionally.

And I get cranky when I'm not caught up.

I'm not even a big tv person. I despise reality tv. Yet, here I am, catching up on the latest Deadliest Catch.....

Who I Really Am

Get Your Monster Name

Nomination weeee

Momma's World has nominated my blog for two categories, humor and best parenting...

Please vote, peeerttty pleeeassee....



The adult content is language (I'm so scammin' off of Second Effort's post here, he was nominated, too... vote for him, as well!)



also, if you vote for me, and get your ten best friends to vote for me, you will have good luck for the next ten years, however, if you don't vote for me, or you do but only have seven best friends, and don't meet the ten best friend quota, you won't finish your taxes on time, and if you did finish your taxes on time, the IRS will lose them.....

Robin Hood

Why I love the BBC.

In the BBC America's Robin Hood series, I love that:

Maid Marion can don a short bob, with bangs, and not cover it up. (She got her hair cut for helping poor people).

Maid Marion also practices Tai Chi, or some other relaxing form that didn't exist in England in 1192. She also never smiles. I suppose that would be realistic.

Robin Hood owns a hoodie. I adore hoodies. I want one just like his.

Robin Hood has a permanent scruff. Never a beard, never clean-shaven. It's a trick, to do that in 1192.

All the men, in fact, have neatly groomed scruffiness.

The Sheriff has heated floors in his castle, because he goes barefoot in them occasionally, while it's rainy and cold outside. Heated floors!

He also has the coolest loungewear.

Maid Marion can wear pants, too. Who knew maids wore pants.

Robin Hood has a nice ass, as seen in his tight leather britches.

Guy Gisbon is also a hottie, but he's a villian, a good villian, very villianous, he's so cute, then he kills someone randomly and how can you justify finding the villianous villian hot?

If I were 13, I'd have Robin Hood and his Merry Band of Boys plastered over my walls... yum.

Maid Marion can have Robin, but she's too grumpy. She's so wasting that ass. And apparently they have cute little shrugs back then too.

I'm sooo tired.

Night night folks.

About Bridge

I will not play Bridge.

I am sure Bridge is fun. I am equally sure I would not be good at it. It requires 'paying attention' and I seldom, rarely, never, pay attention when I'm playing cards. I am sure that I could learn to play, that is not the issue.

I just don't want to learn how to play. Maybe one day, I will suddenly have the desire to play Bridge. Maybe I will fall into a social circle that is fanatical about Bridge. Probably not.

The thing is, I have a finite amount of time. I have three young children. I have school. I have writing. I barely have time to eek out time for myself, or my husband and I. And this is the main point.

When I can finally eek out time for myself, or my husband and I, I do not want to squander it playing a card game I don't care about. I prefer to squander it at a restaurant. At the movies. At a book club. At a friend's home. Shoot, I'd prefer to spend it playing Bunco, if there were wine and cheese. I mean, Bunco isn't a game so much as something to do with your hands while you talk. I don't want to waste it on something I would have to take seriously, or learn, or think about.

Thank you.

P.S. No Bridge fans were hurt, maimed, tormented or bitched at during the making of this post.

Case of the Rainy Green Poop

Yes, what a lovely topic.

But it's not just about raining green poop, no, it is the events of a day that can only result in future therapy for Turbo Boy, and true severe reactions to furniture stores of all types.

Green pants, however, reign supreme.

It all started innocently enough.

We ventured out today to buy a kitchen table, since we're still using one of those gray plastic card tables. It all started out great, with a lunch at chilis. It went fairly well at Pier One where we found a counter height kitchen table (sale, thank you) that I like but Hubby McRed, who may also be known as "Tempermental Artist Hair" for reasons I may or may not blog about, is still unsure of the color, even though we now own it. We then went to Flat Irons, or Shopping Mecca Unlike Anything Seen in the East or West, where the trouble started.

Turbo and Bear were half asleep, but willing to venture into The Great Indoors, also known as "Large Massive Store of Overpriced, but Perty, Furniture, Furnishings and Flooring (I saw the soaking tub get-up that one day I Will Own And Put In My Mini-Castle In The Mountains... moving on...

...to escalaters, and, sheltered I am not, but yet I have not ever seen this contraption, an escalater for shopping carts. In the confusion as to what I was supposed to do to get the shopping car to go up, and my disbelief that it would work or was even a good idea, my son wandered ON TO THE ESCALATER. Okay, he's THREE. It's not the moving up that worries me. It's the getting off. He's three, he could tumble and fall all the way back down.

There are differing opinions on how I reacted, and I do not believe that I 'freaked out' as TAH would have you believe. Instead, I, in my wedge heels and still-healing ankle, merely yelled "Jesus Christ" and asked Drama to please run on to the escalaters to hold his hand. Drama ran and did this, but, inexplicably didn't hold his hand. He looked back. Apparently because after saying, not as loudly as one might insist, Jesus Christ, I called his name, he looked back, and fell.

Okay, fell is harsh. Also, I am not a big fan of the JC exclamation, but for some reason, seeing my little three year old all alone on that escalator, it's what came out. Perhaps I was hoping he would appear and do something, seeing as TAH just stood there, figuring if we left him alone he'd be fine.

Well. He fell, yes, but down one step. Then, since the escalater was constantly moving up, and he was trying to get up and crawl off, he really just ended up crawling in one spot yelling 'help momma help come get me.' To which I bravely hurled myself, wedge heel and weak ankle and all, on to the escalater, grasping poor Turbo into my arms, and carrying him up, all the while listening to him say 'get me momma. you came and get me.'

Now, this would have been fine, if we got off, and he carried on happily.

This did not happen.

"that was scary. that was scary. you got me. you got me momma? Hold my hand momma. I want a hand. Don't let go momma. that was scarry. We don't go down. we don't want to go down."

Uh oh.

So after a stroll around the upper level with the scared Drama, and the continuing commentary of his harrowing five seconds, it was time to go down. TAH held his hand and they talked about being brave and not being scared.

To which, upon getting off the escalater, went right out the window as Turbo grasped my hand and said 'it wasn't scary' with the most unconvincing look ever.

Then, to my horror, said "...but I fell and you got me, and you got me cuz I fell and you didn't get me, I'd be lost and go away and then I'd be all gone...."

Ummm.

OH NO....

uh oh.

"I'd be lost, and go away and then I'd be all gone."

Okay. WHY he would think that if I didn't get him he'd disappear and be gone, I'm not sure, but this thought was why I had to hold his hand in the truck until the other mall trip, ASSURING him with all my heart that I did get him and would never let him go (awwww) Now I wanted to burst out and go "OH MY BABY it's okay, I'll NEVER let you go, NOT EVER, OH BABY, MOMMA LOVES YOU, and I promise, I PROMISE, we will never go on another ESCALATOR again" but all that would do was reassure him that yes, he could have disappeared forever. So instead I said, "Oh honey, you fell, that was scary, huh? But you're okay now." In a confident, reassuring, Momma knows for real you would never have disappeared and never once DOUBTED that you would.

And you think this story should end now, right? Well, it does, for the escalator trauma sort of ended, after an hour of reassuring commentary, hold handing, and not letting go of Mommy...and the ensuing argument of the proper way the situation SHOULD have been handled between TAH and me.

But then, we went to the mall (elevators only). With two tired three year olds, one recently truamatized in a furniture store. So we got a double-decker fire truck stroller (way cool) and roamed the Mecca of All Malls East and West. Then, we smelled something. Something most foul. The Something Most Foul was temporarily drowned out by the excessive fruity mango scents of the Body Shop (they do home shows now, who knew?) but it became apparent Mom would have to change him.

And Mom did.

Utterly.

"It's rainy green poop, mom" said Turbo the Traumatized.
"Yes, it is," said Mom, wiping bright, flourescent green poop off said Turbo's butt. See, it was rainy, bright green, and liquidy. Someone has an icky sour tummy, I suspect Capt. Crunch Berries. I mean, why else would he be flourescent green? It leaked through his diaper onto his pants. I changed his diaper, and then, refusing to put icky wet, green-pooped-laden diapers on my son, stuck him, diaper and shoes (socks had to go too) in the stroller. I rolled the pants and socks up and stuck them in a plastic bag. Out we went to TAH, who's rolling his eyes at the time it took. Yes, I'd like to see what HE would have done.

He sees Turbo and shakes his head. This has happened before, about seven years ago, in a toy store in North Dakota, with Drama girl. We then went to the nearest children's store to buy Turbo pants. He ends up with overpriced shorts ($20 gimme a break) because someone (TAH) was too impatient to actually look at the price. Okay, in his defense, I don't think he actually knew that they made kid shorts that would cost $20. Turbo sees the pants and yells "I LOVE GREEN PANTS I LOVE GREEN PANTS' and gets all giddy putting them on.

So the story should end here, right?

HA HA HA HA

We are not brave fools, we are simply tenacious. We need furnishings. There is no other choice. We can not wait for the children to be in the right 'mood' for furniture shopping. There is no mood for that. So we move on.

We go to Westminster to check out this uber awesome furniture store that TAH neglected to tell me about. Now let it be said, that if Hubby McRed had told me of this store two weeks ago, we would have not had to spend two weekends scouring the local area's overpriced furniture stores for what we wanted, but 'nuff said.

It felt like HOURS, but finally, FINALLY we find what we are looking for. Well, what we want, but don't need for a few months. We NEEDED an arm chair, we ended up with a love seat and two chairs and ottomans. In our defense, all of it for the SAME PRICE (I love caps) as one arm chair from say, an overpriced furniture store. We also needed counter height chairs for our new dining room table, but neglected to find those, instead finding the perfect counter height table that TAH thought was perfect, but as I mentioned, since he never even bothered to mention this warehouse-sized furniture store to me, he can stuff it.

Something rotten then began to stink, almost as much as the behavior of the now over-tired and over-bored three year olds, who have begun tossing pillow cushions on the floor. Problem, I brought three diapers, I mean, these are three year olds being potty trained, who have one regular poop a day. I was not prepared for rainy green poop. All three diapers had been used. I did my best. I stuck Turbo in the stall, wiped up his little bright green ass, and, lacking a diaper, wiped up the icky green diaper as much as I could. Now, refusing to stick an icky wet green diaper back on my son's butt, I placed three layers of paper towels over the icky diaper, THEN put it back on (Like I said, I had no diapers, having used all three, and it was clear to me NOT having a diaper could result in a far worse situation) and said okay baby, we're all done shopping now. And we were.

Now, the grumpy icky tummy boy is in bed, hopefully the worst of the rainy green poop is gone. I fear however, that Bear is just starting his. Hubby McRed, no longer being called TAH, is now not feeling good, though this probably has to do with the Indian he ate tonight, been awhile since he's had the Indian food.

I am finally chilling.

blind dilemma

Okay,

So ignore the midnight anxiety attack about blinds. It's a stress thing.

I'm just going to call tomorrow afternoon and enquire as to the time frame. I know it takes a while to get blinds, so I put up those temporary pleated blinds, and we got curtains for our bedroom, so I'm happy. I'll be getting my daughter her curtains later this week (easy easy since she's doing fairies and a blue room) and the boys will have to be ordered online. (Why can't builders install regular-sized windows, not windows that are 3/4 of a size different?)

Let me just say, I took a bath in my deep soaking tub, and it was bliss. I'm now content.

Still unpacking (ugh) and trying to get rid of the boxes and paper (may resort to slipping items into the builder's dumpster next door ha ha ha) but I'm mostly done.

I found the perfect place to get our kitchen table and 'club chair' because we are doing Scandinavian style inspired room furnishings. By room furnishings, I mean the kitchen table and club chair, we're not refurnishing the whole house, tempting as some of those couches were. You don't come out of a financial recovery with a furniture shopping spree!

The boys got new toddler sleigh beds, courtesy Walmart, $50 a pop. Drama is getting a loft bed next month after cutting her a deal that basically resulted in her getting to get a loft bed if she'd wait a month.

So far, all is well, and we are settling. I will feel settled as soon as paint is on the walls. I despise builder white. I'm allergic to it!

how's everyone else?

Blinds blinds blinds

Why is it so hard to get blinds?

I'm still waiting for the home depot to call and set up a time for the measurements.

Actually, at this point, I pretty much decided tomorrow I'm probably going to go back and cancel the order, and use budget blinds. See, I have to wait for the home depot to take measurements before the blinds can even be ordered. Which takes two weeks. It's already been three days and I haven't even received a phone call to schedule a time just to take measurements. Which means that the person won't even be out til sometime late next week. Then, the blinds ordered after that.... The most annoying thing is how annoyed I am with it. I can't even sleep because I'm annoyed they never even bothered to call to set up an appointment. I'm also bothered that it's just going to take so long. I was willing to wait say, two weeks from today. But not two weeks from next Wednesday.... argh.

I"m kind of annoyed because I liked the blinds I picked out, but I don't want to wait three more weeks with wide open windows on the lower level (we're doing our own window treatments upstairs) so... I think I have to ix nay home depot. Should I wait or not wait? I'm definitely going to call home depot, but sheesh, why is it so hard to be professionally timely?

Anyone work with budget blinds?