Kinda Sorta Back

I write this with caution. I want to run out into the street and yell, “I’m back!” I want to know that I can stick to a schedule with my writing, blogging and other endeavors. My kids are on Spring Break and that means I get to have somewhat of a life.

I have the luxury of only waking myself up in the morning, not two other people that are the toughest two people on the planet to wake up. I get to drive straight to work instead waiting in two drop-off school lines. I get to have five, count them five lunch hours all to myself. I usually spend my lunch hour picking up my son from school and bringing him home.

There will be no quizzes or tests. No permission slips, forms and checks to write for this or that. No forgotten books or unclear instructions for projects. No e-mails from teachers or important parent meetings taking place while I’m a work and cannot attend.

My job doesn’t seem to take up too much of my time. It’s all manageable. I come home and I actually have time to write. This week I feel like I can catch up. I’ve done very little writing lately. It’s true that I’ve had to do a lot of technical (purchased new laptop) and physical (re-organizing my writing space) work lately. It’s meant that even a little bit of writing has been put on the back burner.

I’m surrounded by empty envelopes, index cards, sticky notes, and receipts all filled with whirling ideas. I can’t keep up with my brain anymore. My husband is going into his office today (Saturday) to get a jump on his work. He invited me along and I was tempted. I could spend uninterrupted time in a coffee shop plugging away. Not to mention the fact that I’m always inspired when I go to San Francisco. My fear though, is that I’ll spend my time wandering the streets and daydreaming instead of writing. Plus at home, I can do laundry while writing. I know it sounds horrible, but it’s true. Laundry calls and its name is thee!

So this week I’ll do my best to live the life I dream of. I’ll begin to get a handle on it all and then before you know it, it will be April 12^th and I will try to drag two teenagers out of bed once again. I’ll tell myself that this time will be different. I’ve got a handle on my schedule and I will find a way to do it all. Then I will go to the family function on the 23^rd, I’ll take time off from work to decorate for the end of the school year 7^th and 8^th dance. I’ll organize the after graduation reception for the 8^th grade graduates (7^th grade parents must do all the events). Then, I work from 7pm to around 5am on Memorial Day weekend because that is when they have Grad Nite at the high school, (same thing, non-senior families work the event) not to mention anything that shows up at the office. Add back in the permission slips, endless checks for this and that, oh those teacher e-mails and whatever else will rear its ugly head. I’ve been through it enough times to know I’ll be right back in the same place I’m always in.

Maybe I truly will not get a handle on my writing and my other dreams until both my kids finish school. They are currently in the 11^th grade and the 7^th grade so I can see a dim light in the distance. Sometimes I tell myself that now is just the dress rehearsal. I have a few more years to work out the kinks, fall on my face, work through logistics and all the icky stuff and then, when I can really dive into my dreams, I’ll finally feel ahead of the game for the first time in my life.

I will try to enjoy the week ahead and all that I can cram in, even if realize it will probably be short-lived. Hey, it’s only 69 more days until summer vacation!

NaNo Realization

Since I’ve never dived into NaNo before, I’m guessing this is about the time of the month when you begin to realize that there’s no way in hell you’re writing 50,000 words by the end of November!

Maybe if I didn’t have a full time job? Maybe if I didn’t have two kids, a 7^th grade essay on Huck Finn to proof read, laundry, oh, and I HAVE to watch tonight’s episode of Glee!

I considered calling in sick to work, (can I say I have NaNo flu?) but this time of year, it’s only going to put me behind.

So the challenge really is how many words can I write by the end of month? I’m currently at 3636 and I’m not sure that will change too much until the weekend. I have plans on both Saturday and Sunday, but sometimes I’m even more productive on days when I’m running around crazy.

Also, I feel guilty when I write other things, like this. This is already 166 words I could be adding to my novel. Now it’s 180.

How are you guys doing?

It's Too Damm Hot!

Okay, so this is the time of the year where I’m begging Fall to begin. Today, I even dug out my long pants! It’s too hot to wear them, but I can dream. I’ve lived in the suburbs for eighteen years now and I still can’t take the heat.

Whenever I hear people complain about the fog and cooler temperatures in San Francisco, I want to revoke their city living status. I love the fog rolling in. I love that you always need to bring a jacket because it “could” get chilly. The first couple of years in the burbs, I looked like a total dork walking around in 100 degree weather with a jacket over my arm!

The San Francisco Bay Area is known for their micro-climates. It can be 20 to 30 degrees hotter inland. In addition, we get a bit more of the seasons. So it’s true that it’s colder here in the winter, but I like my year round mild temperatures that only the city can supply.

I have been wearing capris and skirts for three months now! I want cozy sweaters and scarves. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not looking for snow. I love looking at a huge fog bank resting atop my beloved city.

Sometimes, I escape to the city just to enjoy the cooler weather. Unfortunately, by the time I get there, the fog as burned off. This is what entices me to move back to San Francisco. I could never afford it, but I’m looking into a “fog lover” rebate. It would only be fair.

A Day in San Francisco

Most people would hate going to the dentist but not me. I’ve had the same dentist for about 18 years and we always have fun conversations while he’s scrapping my plaque away. It’s my firm belief that you should not cast aside a good dentist that you can trust. So, even when my husband and I moved to the suburbs, we kept our San Francisco dentist.

People here think I’m crazy, but really, we only go twice a year, what’s the big deal? And the best part is that after our checkups, we get to hang out in San Francisco the rest of the day!

My dentist is in a fun neighborhood which happens to be the home of one of the best independent bookstores around! There’s also a great little diner that makes an awesome breakfast and some of the best burgers I’ve found anywhere!

Unfortunately, I was awakened at 5:30 am by a huge thunderstorm. Yesterday the temperature here was 98 degrees, so the storm is a bit weird. The dog freaked out and it woke my son up. I hope it doesn’t ruin my day. It did stop raining for now and let’s hope the worst is over.

I’m looking forward to taking my camera with my and my new PNN mug. I’ll be introducing you all to her later.

Well, I guess I’ll hop in the shower, grab my knitting for the car ride and charge up my new cell phone. I set up my Twitter account on my phone so maybe I’ll do some tweets throughout the day. If you want to follow me, I’m Colleenie41.

I hope everyone has a great Saturday! 

Nap Time

So now that my family is entrenched in the school schedule, I’m forced to give up my laid-back summer attitude and get my butt in gear.

One of my most difficult challenges is getting up an hour early than I have the past few months. No matter what every scientific study and women’s magazine tries to tell me, no, my body is never going to get use to waking up that early. If I could have my way, I’d love to wake up at 10am and hit the pillow at 2am. I’m a true night owl and it’s never going to change.

No matter how hard I try, it’s difficult to go to bed before midnight. I can’t believe how many of my co-workers go to bed around 9 or 9:30. I wouldn’t get anything done if I went to bed that early. My kids go to bed somewhere between 10 and 11 and then I need quiet unwinding time.

Since I’m only getting about six hours a night, I’m usually pretty tired by 3pm. Some days, when I get home from work, I need to take just a brief 20 minute snooze before making dinner and battling homework.

Yesterday, I started reminiscing about nap time. We never appreciate it when we have it. I think it’s really a break for the teacher. We all know it’s in our best interest to keep five and six years going full steam so that they crap out at a decent hour. Not only did I hate nap time when I was a kid, my two kids struggled to settle down mid-day. Subsequently,  the days they managed to fall asleep, meant I paid the price to get them to bed that evening.

Now, I can take a nap anytime, anywhere. One of the most difficult adjustments for me when I finally got a job here in the suburbs, was I could no longer sleep on BART (our subway system). When I still worked in San Francisco’s Financial District, I relished my 30 minute snooze on the train home.

You would think a cat nap at home would be ideal, but it’s not. Barking dog, ringing phone and bickering kids often disrupt my attempt at stolen slumber. I will do what I have to do though. Maybe the next time I go grocery shopping I’ll pick up graham crackers and milk in tiny cartons. Then the setting would be perfect!

A Mother's Day Anniversary

First of all, Happy Belated Mother’s Day to all you moms! You make the world go around. You kiss our boo-boos, make us smile through tears and always take our side. I lift my mimosa to you!

However, it wasn’t just Mother’s Day. It was also the one year anniversary of The Urbansuburban here on PNN.

I remember a year ago when I finally decided to dive into this blog. I had already started my entertainment blog Colleenie’s Couch, but I still wanted to do something more personal. I had already stumbled upon PNN, but I was still hesitant. When I looked at sites like Helium and PNN, people seemed to have so much knowledge to share. I certainly didn’t have any skills or advice that I could pass on to someone else. PNN had a more personal touch, yet still, I really just wanted to find an outlet for my sometimes boring suburban existence.

Growing up in a big city, I knew I wanted to raise my children with more wide open spaces and somewhere that they felt safe. I achieved those goals, but I often feel out of place. My views are too liberal, my humor too crass and my artistic bent, a bit too flaky. I know there are others like me lurking in these parts, but with my limited “me” time, I’m just not able to do the leg work right now. I work full-time, drive my kids around, cook, clean and once in awhile spend time with my husband. Friendships will just have to wait.

Maybe no one would read what I was writing, but I could get it out there, right? I certainly didn’t expect to make connections and friends. I typed my first post and had my hubby proof read it. I posted and waited. Summer Star was my first comment! Thank you Summer! Soon after, we had a GNO. I had no idea how it worked or what I was really supposed to do. I remember flying out of the office that day so I could come home, log on, and find out what it was all about. The pace was crazy fast! I could barely keep up, especially since I don’t touch type. Oops, a little secret about me! I met so many brilliant and supportive women. I couldn’t believe there was a community out there where women had my sense of humor and ideas were floating around, but most of all respect.

I often see people on the internet saying things they would never say in person. Although I’ve seen disagreements on PNN, for the most part, there’s no mud slinging. I see a mutual respect for differences and others taking that into account.

What I see more than anything is an online support system. The women on PNN are truly here for each other. Advice, recommendations, or just an ear for bitching, the troops will rally around you when needed.

I’ve been going through a pretty rough patch of life lately. Most of it I don’t talk about here, but I always feel supported and that I have a group of gals on my side. I feel embraced!

So thanks for being there. Thanks for being a beautiful surprise in my life at a time when most things haven’t really been going in my favor.

I look forward to sharing and learning more from all of you PNNers out there! This first year went by so fast. I think I’m going to keep blogging and I hope you will too.

Still Re-Tooling

So, I came into this year with big expectations for taking my dreams to the next level. I’ve been languishing in “almost” land the last couple of years. I use the excuse that I’m still learning, I don’t have time, it’s not right yet. Inside I know I’m lying to myself. I have to step up my game in order to make things happen.

I give myself this pep talk and then I set up my goals. Post three articles a week to PNN, post at least five times a week to my entertainment blog, do research, read and leave comments on other blogs, watch tutorials and study works about blogging and blog programs, follow up with writing leads and on and on.

These were my modest goals for 2010, but then I decided I should also add “creating a body of work” to the pile. I thought if I write a first draft of a personal essay once a week, by the end of the year, I’d have a large body of work.

As the end of January comes to a close, I apparently have some re-tooling to do. I have managed to post daily to my entertainment blog, Colleenie’s Couch, however, I’d still like some beefier content. I have not posted to PNN since the 2^nd. I haven’t had time to read any of the wonderful PNN posts I enjoy so much, I have no essays in the hopper and I’m tired!

I’m well aware of my tendency to be completely unrealistic about what I can actually accomplish. I work full time and still have two school-aged children. My son still needs lots of help with his homework and often, my husband and I have to drop everything and help him into the wee hours.

Sometimes I feel that until my life changes, I can’t take on all of these personal endeavors. My basic plan of attack was to do most of writing over the weekends and then use the weekdays for reading, commenting and research. I was very excited last week to have a three day weekend to work with, but instead of writing, I spent all of my time on kid related obligations. I do not over schedule my kids, but today’s parents seem to be expected to be present at way more meetings and events than in my day. In the end, I decided to become a mother, so part of that is being present in my parenting. Yet, the other side of me feels anxious to follow my path and put things in place for the day my time is free.

If I’m not reaching my current goals, should I re-tool or attempt to still find a way to get it all in? Doesn’t it take extraordinary means to make big life changes? I’m not sure if I should “burn the candle at both ends” or “cut myself some slack”. Maybe I should just stop using clichés! Either way, I want this year to be different. I want to look back on 2010 as the year that it all started to fall into place.

Oh well, there’s always this weekend!

My Game Plan for 2010

I took yesterday off. I know I should’ve started off the New Year writing and obtaining my goals, but instead I stayed in sweats all day, watched “The Twilight Zone” marathon and did laundry. I’m here now though, writing.

I have big plans this year. I don’t want to beat around the bush here…2009 sucked! I don’t know one person that had a great year. While mine certainly wasn’t as bad as others, it was a very challenging. At the end, I could see some hope on the horizon, but it’s going to take hard work.

A year and a half ago, I dived into the blogging world. Through Google Blogger I created my own blog Colleenie’s Couch. This has been my baby. A place where I can rant about TV, movies, books and music. If I didn’t have a job, I’d post to it constantly. For 2010, I’ve decided that I really have to devote more attention to posting consistently and  finding eyes for my blog. Around the same time, I also became a guest blogger for Eric Maisel’s Creativity Central. I worked very hard on creating my blog Don’t Quit Your Day Job. I posted a new entry every Sunday and tried to create meaningful content. I learned a lot, but I now have to admit that this project is “dead in the water.” I finally stopped writing posts as I noticed that only three people were posting and no one was reading. I hate walking away from things so I’ve thought of maybe bringing my old posts here to PNN. We are all such a creative bunch, it may be a nice forum. If it works, maybe I’ll revive it in a new venue!

Then there’s PNN. It’s been eight months since I became the Urban Suburban and it’s certainly been one of my best decisions of 2009! I have found such a wonderful community of people here. I feel supported in an environment where I can be myself. Yet, I still need to step up my game here too! Often, I miss some of your wonderful posts and I go weeks without writing one of my own. Honestly, I could spend all day on PNN. There’s so much rich content. So many of the blogs are informative, funny, touching and fun, I could get everything I need right here! I need to work out a way to connect with all of you more often.

I also have other brand new projects in the works. I’m lucky these days to still have my full time job, but I still have a full-time job. When I think about all I want to accomplish outside of office hours, it doesn’t seem possible. I would need to give up sleeping, but this year, I also promised to start taking better care of myself!

I’ve been turning to a lot of self help books and websites. I’ll let you guys in on any good nuggets I find. Currently, I’m reading, Finding Your Own North Star by Martha Beck. I just started though, so I’m not sure if it’s going to be useful of not. She also has another book The Joy Diet, which I found in audio form from my library. I’m listening to that in my car.

So today and tomorrow I vow to get a lot of writing done. I also plan to get this house clean, have a week’s worth of work outfits ready to go for work, take down all the Christmas decorations and escape to San Francisco to visit with my dear friend. By Monday, I’ll be back to working a five day week, dropping my son off at school, using my lunch hour to bring him home, helping with homework, cooking and basically, keeping it all together.

I have to convince myself that I can do this. Don’t most writers have full-time jobs? I’m just not trying hard enough. I know I waste precious hours watching “Friends” reruns instead of writing. It’s going to be hard, but I have to put myself out there. This is the year, hell this is the decade.

At least I know all you PNNers will be there for me. I’ll be here for you too. I’m going to create a new section and post my original “Don’t Quit Your Day Job.” Let me know if you like it and we’ll go from there.

I’m looking forward to reading all of your wonderful posts and following you on your journeys.

When that Time Square ball dropped, I stood up and actually kicked 2009 in the ass! I will not look back. It’s all in front of us. March on!

Season's Greeting

Merry Christmas to all my friends here at PNN! You are all so special to me. I hope you have a wonderful day with the people you love.

Now, to the kitchen...

Christmas Essay

I wrote this essay sometime ago. I've submitted it, but no takers yet! Since it has a Christmas theme, I thought I'd share with all of you.

Artificial Limbs

It was never officially Christmas at my house until we put up the artificial tree. At eight years old, it was difficult for me to understand why we couldn’t have a real one. Mom said it was too much trouble since we didn’t have a car and didn’t live near a tree lot. I guess she had a point. Still, I longed for the lush elaborate trees I would see in all the holiday TV specials. Around Thanksgiving time I’d ask, “Can we get a real tree this year?” My requests were always met with, “We’ll see.” A child learns quickly that this is a parent’s polite way of saying no.  But even setting up the “fake” tree was met with its own obstacles. That yearly task belonged to Dad and he was never filled with holiday cheer.

Each year, shortly after Thanksgiving, the family would nag Dad until we’d successfully piss him off and he’d drag the box that housed the tree out of the closet. It was quite an elaborate tree. It lived in its original giant white box with a drawing of a lush noble fir on the side. Not to be confused with an artist’s rendering, this was merely a drawing of a beautiful Christmas tree and was not conducive to the actual finished product.

There were no pop-out pieces or limbs to push or shape. Instead, each individual branch was neatly stacked, one on top of another, spooning inside their box until it was time for them to come to life. The end of each limb had a colored tip that corresponded to the accompanying instructional chart. I always looked forward to watching my dad piece the tree together. It was usually late at night and I could sucker out a later bedtime if he lost track of the clock. I was not allowed to assist as there was a definite method to

successful tree construction. He would unpack it all, first laying down the pieces that would connect to make the large pole. Next, he would stack the limbs in their prospective color coordinated piles. Lastly, he would smooth out the instruction sheet on the floor and settle into the job at hand.

It was a very methodical time for my dad. He wouldn’t talk and neither would I. He would just drink cup after cup of black coffee, puff on his never ending Pall Mall and slowly construct the tree. I would always hang over the edge of the loveseat, watching and waiting. I would try to read his thoughts. Why did he become so grumpy around the holidays?

Normally, it was easy to engage my dad in conversation. He would often take me out for a donut or ice cream at Jim’s Diner and we’d sit at a booth as he told me stories about his military years, growing up in Brooklyn, and once in a while, his parents. The stories about his mother were always about her being a tough broad who didn’t take crap from anyone, especially not his father. However, any comments about his father seemed trivial. For my dad, his father was a person who was just there and had no real personality or presence.

I had to rely on these stories to shape my grandparents for me because my dad no longer had family of his own. His mother died of breast cancer when he was five and after that, his father fell deep into alcoholism. My dad was put in foster care and tried to keep a low profile until he was old enough to join the Navy. Shortly thereafter, at twenty four, he married my mom.

Most of my Mom’s family lived nearby and were a close part of our lives. However, their personalities were very different from my dad’s and he just didn’t seem to want to have anything to do with them. Mom’s side of the family was made up of all women. My maternal grandfather abandoned my Grandma with my mom and her four other siblings. My mom’s two brothers lived out of state and I never met them. Of her two sisters, one died tragically of a brain tumor, leaving three children behind with a father who couldn’t handle it and subsequently left. The younger sister lived in our neighborhood and she and my mom spent most of their time together. Although the family was small, grandma, my three orphaned cousins (who were now being raised by my grandmother) and my mom’s younger sister and her son, it was not a close knit-family filled with love and support for one another. My relatives were constantly in our lives. Their histories made them bitter and, instead of current events and daily occurrences, conversations were usually about how the world had done them wrong. If a stranger happened upon one these conversations, they would probably think people were fighting, but it was more a harangue as to how life treated them wrong. Dad was never interested in taking part in these conversations. There were no solutions or problem solving ideas in motion, so to my dad it was all pointless. His absence from our gatherings seemed to pose the question, was he disappointed with the family he married in to? As Christmas Day approached, he usually would find some inane reason to blow up (we were talking too loud, everyone was too hyper) and storm into my parent’s bedroom where he would hole up till the festivities were over.

I was the youngest of the three kids and I was more than a “daddy’s girl.” With no role models, my dad made a lot of mistakes on the road of learning to be a husband and a father. On the way, he managed to alienate just about everyone. I was keenly aware that I was his last attempt to do something right.  It was clear that an outsider would never truly understand him. His last shot was me, someone who was part of him. I had the best attributes from my parents: stubbornness from Dad, empathy from Mom and the least memories of the early mistakes Dad had made. My older brother, sister and I were like the bears’ porridge that Goldilock’s stumbled upon. The sensitivity and artistic talents my brother possessed were too different from Dad. My sister was too similar to Dad with her tough exterior and orneriness. I had the least bias opinion. I did not endure as much of the anger, physically and verbally, as the rest of my family.  At a very young age, I would have deep conversations with him. He was always impressed with my inquisitive questions. He thought they came from an old soul and didn’t seem to realize that this curiosity trait was in all children. It was him that was finally ready to listen. In the end, it didn’t matter. He made me feel smart and special and I gave him the spotlight he needed to be heard and revered. We had many great conversations but, during tree building time, I would be left to ponder on my own what he might be thinking.

The completed tree was perfect. It had a compact array of full, rich, green limbs. Once it was covered in lights, tinsel and ornaments, you probably couldn’t even tell it was fake. Maybe, if you had a winter cold, you’d be too stuffed up to notice the absence of pine scent in the room. It was much like our fantasy of family. The only way for it to ever appear perfect is if it were artificial. Nothing in nature can be pieced together with a chart. Despite the basic rule that large, strong branches support the bottom and the small, fragile ones are perched at the top, to stretch to reach the sun, a real tree would have irregularities and imperfections. Even the strong branches would have some missing limbs, but this would not take away from its strength. There would be empty gaps. In some places, the other limbs would grow over the emptiness. In other spots, however, these gaps would remain forever open, never to fill in.

I’m sure my dad realized his expectations of family were unrealistic. He had once mused, judged and promised himself that things would be perfect once he was a parent. However, that’s a promise guaranteed never to come to fruition. It will be different but never perfect. Some of our ideals will never live up our expectations. Fake trees can come out of their boxes annually, keeping their promise of perfection. But family will always have its missing limbs and falling needles. Spaces will be filled in by others yet some spaces will remain forever empty. The one thing to remember is, in every family, it’s never too late to help one tiny limb reach the sun.    

Gift Card No-No

Last Friday I hopped on down to the local grocery store and loaded up on gift cards. It’s a rough year and I’m on a tight budget when it comes to gift giving. Friends are basically getting a greeting card – which I purchased at 75% off in January – and my best wishes. Tangible gifts are only for my immediate family. Even with a shortened list, I had to revise my original $50 limit down to $25. I thought I managed to choose the right gift cards for everyone. I even went to a couple locations to get specific ones that other stores didn’t have.

I was feeling pretty adequate and then I get back to my desk and see this article on the MSN Homepage. So now Tim Harford is going to make me feel bad about my limited gift giving options? I spent a decade making chocolate truffles by hand. I basically made every holiday season miserable for myself because I’d work all day and then come and roll chocolate for hours on end.

I do think about the gift cards I purchase. I do not buy cards for out of town relatives. I don’t know what stores are around where they live. I also try to buy cards from stores that I know the recipient shops at. If they are already going to make a purchase there, then I know that even if the value of my cards won’t cover the whole item, at least it will help.

I love getting gift cards. Barnes & Noble, Starbucks and iTunes are my favorites. I will always use them and quickly! Just because someone knows I love to read or I love music doesn’t mean they know exactly what I like. Plus, we’re grown-ups, if I want the new Norah Jones, I probably already downloaded it (I did).

So stop trying to make me feel like I’m a loser in a year that’s already been rough. I’m scrapping the bottom of the barrel for some holiday cheer and now gift giving standards are being dissected on top of everything else.

Here’s my gift card. I know you’re a gamer, movie lover, coffee drinker, book reader and teen driver who could use some gas. Yes, I did think about you when I bought this card and I thought I did a good job getting you something you will actually use.

Stuff that in your stocking!

Not One of My Best Decisions

So I’m admitting defeat. For now anyway, the universe has decided that I will not begin a career as a web designer.

I threw in the towel for my class. I hate paying money and not seeing it through, but I was dreading class each week and I certainly didn’t need more stress in my life. Although my teacher seemed like a nice person, she just wasn’t a very good instructor. The class moved at a snail’s pace and half the time I didn’t know what she was talking about!

Still, this is something that I found really interests me and I didn’t want to give up, even if the class was crappy. I finally found someone selling a used copy of the Dreamweaver web design software on Amazon. I purchased it and picked up some how-to-books. At this point, I can instruct myself better than what was going on in that class!

Saturday morning was pretty quiet so I decided it was a perfect time to install and get the ball rolling. Some of my former classmates mentioned that they didn’t have enough computer space for the program, but mine went through just fine. Finally! What a relief to get over this hurdle after so many weeks.

After I finished installing it then asked for the serial number on the back of the box. Um, invalid when I entered it, but it says I can call Adobe. Entered it over the phone, still invalid. The customer service rep informs me that it’s not a valid serial number and there’s nothing they can do about it.

I e-mailed the person I bought it from through Amazon, but I have a feeling I’m not going to hear back. Sure, I’ll report them, I’m even going to try to file something with the post office, but in the end, I’m pretty sure that I am out money again.

I’m mean really, WTF? Why was this whole experience so negative and crappy? I feel like I’m always looking for ways to improve myself, but I just get smacked in the face! Plus, people at work and friends always think I’m crazy when I won’t buy things on Craig’s list or Ebay, they get cars that work and all kinds of cool stuff. Apparently, I just get taken.

So, I’m at least returning the books I purchased for a refund and I guess I’ll be shelving the whole web designer idea for awhile.

Maybe I’m destined to slave away in my cubicle for the rest of my life. I’m currently reading Escape from Cubicle Nation, I really want out. Oh well, I guess right now my timeline and the universes’ is completely different.

Go Get You Some Inspiration

Guess what? It’s really hard to write 50,000 words in 30 days. I knew it was a difficult endeavor, but I believed if I freed myself from the rules I’d have more than 3845 words by now. Of course, I have lacked "butt in the chair" time. I knew that this weekend I’d need a shot in the arm to force me to write instead of watching the six hours of Ugly Betty episodes on my digital recorder.

I have been a member of the California Writers Club for several years now. We meet the second Saturday of each month. There’s a speaker, great lunch, and an opportunity to network with other writers. I enjoy these meetings, however being a mother of school aged children does mean that sometimes I’m not available the second Tuesday of each month. Also, my budget tells me that I should not shell out $20 bucks if the speaker of the month is not pertinent to my current writing. Next month the speaker will talk about historical fiction. This is not my writing area so I’ll probably sit that one out. If time and money were never an issue, I would most certainly go to every month, because I believe there’s always something to learn.

Today’s meeting was also a workshop and I not only was counting the days, I invited my husband along too. Our workshop leader was Janis Cooke Newman, author of The Russian Word for Snow and Mary. I have been fortunate to have taken a couple of workshops with her at The Writing Salon and she is one of the best instructors I’ve ever had. Her advice is so practical and useful. She delivers nuts and bolts advice that you can immediately apply to your writing. I scribbled down six pages of extensive notes!

She mentioned this article in a recent issue of The Wall Street Journal. I thought all of us NaNo writers might pick up a bit of inspiration from reading about how some of the greats do it.

I left feeling refreshed in my writing. I wish I could tell you all about the great topics we covered, but I really should get to writing. Let me leave you with this tidbit of useful advice she gave. “You can’t re-write the beginning until you write the end.” I know a lot of us want to rewrite and or chuck some of things we wrote last week, or even last night. To this I say, “Keep going forward!” Although I don’t have a high word count, my novel has already started in a direction I never planned. I will let he process guide me.

We NaNo writers are lucky. We don’t have a book contract or anticipated audiences. We are writing for ourselves; let everything spill on to page. You are free to throw it all on the page and see what sticks.

I hope I’ve revved you up a bit. Go forth and write!

NaNoWriMo Weekend

Okay, so I have nothing to do this weekend. The house is in decent shape. I finally have a washing machine, so no more time suckage trips to the Laundromat. My son doesn’t have a ridiculous school project that needs my attention and my husband is going into the office today to catch up on some work. I have tons of time on my hands. It has to be crazy wild NaNoWriMo weekend!

Now my main computer has another virus so it’s back in the shop. I will have to fight for computer time with the rest of the familia, but I think I can wrangle some serious key banging time. I do have my little Dell notebook, so I hope it’s not an issue to write on two different computers.

I just found out that a local bookstore is having write-ins every Sunday this month! I think I might give it a try. Maybe I can find some local writing buds, which is always cool. My husband will be knee-deep in football tomorrow so I’m confident that I can slip away for awhile.

I do have a question for you seasoned NaNo’s. Where do I find the “buddies” section? I’ve clicked all over the place and I can’t find where you can look at other people’s profiles. Also, I need names baby! My handle is “Colleenie.” Let me know what you all are signed up as.

Good luck this weekend. The home page says we should have 15,000 words by the end of the weekend. Wow, that’s a tall order. I’m trying to stay organic. I’m not writing a previous subject matter of interest, I’m not editing or re-reading. I’m trusting that the process will carry me along.

I Must Be Crazy!

I blame all of you wonderful PNNers. What else would make me sign up for NaNoWriMo? I certainly do not have time to write 50,000 words by the end of the month. I have too many things to do as it is. But then you all went and inspired me! Each year I say I’m going to do it, but I come to my senses and talk myself out of it. I mean what am I going to do when Thanksgiving rolls around? I’m not going to have time to be plugging away at the computer.

See, I figure we’ll all support each other right? You will all be there when I’m up till midnight helping my son study for a social studies test and there’s no way I’m going to get one word on the computer.

When my friends and family start to feel neglected because I’m constantly plunking away and can never talk, listen, or spend quality time with them, you will all reassure me it’s for a good cause. You’ll promise to still be my friends even when all my non-writing friends have left me for people who actually communicate with them.

So I’m in it! Are you? Will you really do this with me? I wrote 701 words tonight. At this point I really don’t believe I can write 50,000, but I’m willing to attempt to surprise myself.

I’m not even really sure what my story is, but the website assures me that it will take on a life of its own.

The website itself seems like a lot of fun, but I don’t have time to look at any of it…I have to write!

Apparently, they have a big swanky party every November. I clicked that link to see where they hold it. San Francisco! That’s just a 40 minute BART (i.e. subway) ride away for me! Boy, that’s tempting.

Okay, we all have to support each other. I have no more vacations days left at work for the rest of this year. Where is the time going to come from? I’m still taking my computer class, I work 40 hours a week, I have a house to take care of, I have two teenagers, I have a dog. I do not have time for NaNoWriMo. Like I said, I must be crazy!

A Halloween Like No Other

Yesterday was a strange Halloween at my house. My daughter went out with her friends. They are sixteen, so the trick-or-treating is borderline. They scored some candy and then went back to a girlfriend’s house to watch a movie.

My son will be thirteen next month. He was invited to go trick-or-treating with some of the girls from his 7^th grade class. As he was leaving I thought to ask, “Were you the only boy invited?” He nonchalantly answered, “Yeah.” His group was still young enough to include an adult chaperone, but still, the only boy?

As I handed out pillow cases, reminded them to thank the candy bearers, cross the street carefully, not to enter anyone’s home and trimmed my son’s ghost sheet, I realized I would be having a childless Halloween. It kind of crept up on me and it was a little weird.

Halloween is usually a fun and hectic time at my house. Last year my son wanted to be a pancake and that costume took up quite a bit of my free time. This year he just wanted a white sheet. My daughter made a group costume with her friends and didn’t even need me to drive her to the party supply store. She got her own ride!

It’s nice to see the kids fly on their own, but each year I really do feel older. Believe me, I’m not pining away for more kids. However, they are so adorable on Halloween! Every Halloween I want them to be 3-5 years old again. Well at least I’d get to hand out candy.

I’m the most embarrassing mom when it comes to handing out candy. I have to comment on all the costumes, feign fear and ooh and ah!

My first trick-or-treater of the evening fed my “neglected mommy” for the entire evening.

The doorbell rang for the first time of the night and I was greeted by an adorable toddler in a dinosaur costume. He held out his bag with an enthusiastic TRICK OR TREAT and was very pleased to see that this would yield candy. So much so that he walked right in! Then my dog, secured by the baby gate in the family room, began to bark. This overjoyed the little treater, he shouted “Doggie!” and even with Dad close behind, he still reached my dog before Dad could get there and the two were having a nice time. The little guy was happy, my dog was happy and I was tickled to death. I told my little friend that if he spent this long at everyone’s house, he’d be out very late. He decided to go on his way.

My son came home at 10:30 and my daughter at 11pm. They both had great evenings with their friends and I had a pretty great evening too. Things change, things stay the same, it’s all good and little old mom will be okay.

Affirmation

Last night I went to my webdesign class and it was simply horrible! I missed class last week and apparently that was when they decided to get off their ass and finally do stuff! The class had been going along at such a snails pace, I thought if I read the book, I’d be fine.

I had no clue what was going on. It was that feeling where you feel so lost and stupid that you might start bawling! The teacher also threw in a few times that I and the other absent person were, “really going to have to catch up!”

My classmate kept trying to help me and I was feeling overwhelmed and frustrated. She even called the teacher over to help me when I didn’t want to raise my hand. I didn’t want to take time away from the rest of class; after all, I wasn’t there, so I should have to suffer the consequences. I felt so lost I considered packing up and calling it quits. I mean really, nothing has gone right since I signed up for the classes. Maybe I should listen to the signals?

I finally caught up and was following along with everyone else. I stuck it out with a big shout out to the two wonderful ladies that sit next to me. They seem to know so much more than I do. Everyone seems to know so much more than I do. During the break I talked with my classmates about how I don’t really understand what I’m doing. Even if I had Dreamweaver (the program we’re using) at home, I’d don’t think I’d know what to do with it. We jump around to so many different screens and files, half the time, I don’t know how I got there!

My classmate said I needed to get an affirmation. She suggested that I write, “I understand every aspect of Dreamweaver,” then tape it up to my computer. I guess that’s more positive than quitting. I had to stay after class so my teacher could show me how to back-up my work. Talk about leaving class feeling completely deflated.

This morning I arrived at my day job. I made the coffee, (I make it the best) opened my e-mail, read one that pissed me off and would steer the course of my day, printed my bank report and then opened my MSN Homepage. First I log on to my online radio, KKSF smooth jazz, then, I read my horoscope. The following is my actually horoscope, I kid you not:

Today's Scorpio Horoscope:

Oct 21, 2009

A project that you're working on, perhaps job-related, perhaps personal, is likely to require more creative skills than you usually need, dear Scorpio. Writing, drawing, or computer graphics and HTML may be involved. You may have some doubts about your abilities in this regard, but you're more likely to surprise yourself with the results than otherwise. You're apt to enjoy working this way and may hope to continue doing it. Keep up the good work, and good luck!

So I guess I have my affirmation! Damm, I was really hoping to throw in the towel!

I've Been Rejected!

Well I had to take a tiny stress hiatus. Last week I had to do the bare minimum just to get through it. I’ve fallen off my writing wagon and now I’m trying to climb back on. Actually, I fell off all my wagons. I haven’t updated my Facebook status, or e-mailed my family. You know how it goes, after awhile, who’s going to want to keep listening to all your problems?

In a nutshell, this was how my week went down. The washing machine broke last Saturday. I’ve already been to the Laundromat four times! Talk about time suckage! The repair quote was a thousand dollars. The drum is broken, this seems odd on a six year old machine, but I guess they don’t make things like they use to, eh? My few attempts to get hooked up with a used or refurbished machine fell through. On Sunday I gave up and purchased a new one for $500. What joy when the sales person told me that model was on back order, (probably because it’s the cheapest one) so I’ll most likely still be logging in some serious hours at the Laundromat until I get a delivery date.

Sunday, my computer became infected with a virus that my virus protection couldn’t fix. It had to go to the computer doctor and come back clean…$150 dollars later! Now, all my settings are screwed up and it’s still a pain in the butt to get normal task accomplished.

Then the most annoying tidbit of all… Adobe rejected my student status and I had to return all of my webdesign software! If this wasn’t disheartening enough, I found out that I would be charged a “restocking” fee of $53 dollars and of course I had to pay the UPS shipping of over $20 dollars. All-in-all, I’m out $75 bucks and I still have nothing! I sent a nasty e-mail to my instructor, but I don’t expect much to happen. Technically, they are not telling you to purchase software, but we all know it would be pretty tough to do anything without it. It’s really soured me to the class, but I’ll finish this one and then reassess my feelings. I don’t want to jump to any hasty decisions.

Overall, I’ve been sort of pissy. I was up till 12:30am yesterday helping my son rewrite his English essay. Work has been overwhelming with lots of extra things cropping up. Even my treat of a nice slice of chocolate cake ended up, frosting side down, on my Flight of the Conchords T-shirt! Of course, I have no washing machine, so it just seems befitting.

I know people are going through far worse things in their life than I am. This I know and I try to keep it all in perspective, but weeks like these sure are draining.  It’s difficult when I can’t do the things that help me relax. I missed being on PNN and writing my entertainment reviews. I’m trying so hard to better myself and I feel thwarted at every turn. I’m trying to push back, but sometimes, I’d rather take a nap!

I’m trying to leave it all behind me. Dealing with what I’ve been dealt and picking up the pieces is the best sign of progress I can achieve in my efforts to remake myself as a better person. We can learn new skills and make ourselves smarter, but isn’t it how we handle ourselves during tough times that really shows our measures of strength and maturity as human beings? I’m going to go with that for now and pull up my boot straps and march on!

This is Getting Ridiculous!

If you will all indulge my venting for a moment it will be appreciated. I really don’t want to come off as whiney or someone who is always so gloom and doom, but this week I’ve felt like, “Are ya freakin’ kidding me?”

I finally received the software for my web design class, but they did not verify my student authorization as I originally thought. Even though they made me send them a letter, they basically shipped whatever I wanted and I now have to be authorized by Adobe before I receive the authorization code to download the programs I need. If they turn me down, I’ll get a refund but I most certainly will be out the shipping charges both ways. If you’re wondering why this is such a problem it’s because the Adobe website clearly says that Adult Education does not qualify as an official student. However, my instructor tells me this is where everyone gets it and no one has ever had a problem. Asking around, I’m finding that people are having relatives who qualify, purchase it for them!

So I’m prepared to deal with this crap over the weekend and finally find out once and for all, if I’m even going to able to get the programs I need to take these classes. Now, I’m having computer problems! Every website I go into says it’s unsafe and invalid. I keep getting a pop-up for a place that wants me to pay them $69.95 for their protection. I can’t seem to get this off and my virus protection is scanning my computer saying everything is hunky-dory!

The e-mail to my IT buddy is still unanswered so I don’t know if he’s even around this weekend. I’m hesitant to load new programs to a computer that may be infected with something. In the end, if everything worked out in my favor; I receive my authorization code and my computer gets cleaned up, the programs still might not work properly because I don’t know if I have a strong enough graphics card and memory to handle this heavily animated software.

I feel like in an effort to better myself with knowledge, I opened a whole can of worms and created extra problems and stress for myself. I’ve been working hard to bring a calming presence into my life, what have I done? Lately, I’m feeling more stressed out and pissed off than ever! I’m constantly worried and grumpy, it all seems counter-productive to my attempts to better myself.

My ever supportive husband assures me that this is nature of being a student. I can look forward to many days of not getting anything done and wasting valuable time. Gee, that sounds great!

I’m also feeling quite anxious because if Adobe will not accept my student verification I have to hurry to return my items for a refund. I don’t know how long or how complicated it’s going to be to fix my computer, (if you’re wondering, I’m typing this on the old dinosaur computer) it could be awhile before I’m “back in business.” I wonder if I’m somehow being tested. I keep telling myself to stick it out and in the end, I will be victorious. I have to show the cosmos that they can’t mess with me! It’s on universe!

Oh, by the way, the washing machine broke yesterday.

Cosmos 2 Me O.

Now I Remember - Part Two

Well I can’t thank the PNN community enough for getting me through a tough week. I definitely had the best team PNN has to offer! With our two newly crowned “Supporters of the Month”, Mother of Many and Jen Daniele, plus close contender Verby, not to mention Jenny Rebecca and Kimberly…whew, how could I lose?

I wanted to let you all know that my teacher arrived to class with a huge stack of signed letters of “student verification.” Apparently, the regular office lady had a death in the family and was not in last week. I was still hesitant that the software site would accept the letter, but my teacher said she knew of no one in the past having a problem. Why would I be so disbelieving? Well, I heard two classmates talking about their software purchase before class, so I interrupted and asked what website they used. They both told me they had daughters in college, so they had them order it! I was a bit miffed. I didn’t want to have to “know” someone. I was legitimately taking this class; I should qualify for the discount!

I was relived to find out that she was correct. I placed my order Wednesday morning and faxed over my letter. I’m currently tracking it on the UPS website! I’m pretty jazzed that I’m getting over $2,000.00 in software for $600 bucks. It might be awhile before I know what to do with most of it, but I’m on my way. At least I know I’m set now for the intermediate and advanced class.

At first I wasn’t sure I wanted to make such a leap. It’s a lot to learn and I’m not always the sharpest pencil in the stack. Still, I keep searching for things that truly interest me and that could help me move away from the 9 to 5. I find that I have very solid ideas of how I want things to look design wise. I’ve drawn all my life and did attend art school for awhile. I realized I wasn’t that great, so maybe the graphic design is the way to go for me. I have some decent drawing skills and the computer can help me with the rest. I’m pretty excited!

I guess I should stop blogging and get to my homework. Now I need you guys to keep me from procrastinating! Thanks everyone!

Now I Remember

Over the weekend I realized why I’m not normally in school. School is a pain in the ass! I basically wasted my whole weekend attempting to do my assignments and I have nothing to show for it!

The first thing I was supposed to do was download files to my home computer that correspond with my textbook. I spent all of Saturday morning trying to figure out where the files were. Once I finally found what I thought was the correct info and the instructions to download, I felt I could redeem my lost time. All the files were downloaded, but when I went into the folders, it was information from a different textbook!

School has a tendency to make me feel stupid. I feel like the information doesn’t come as easily to me as everyone else. It quickly dredges up all the dormant fears of not doing well and basically being un-teachable.

Then there’s the frustration factor of not being able to take care of simple administrative functions. I spent my first week of class trying to decide if I should purchase web design software or wait to see how much I could learn in this class. I finally decided that if I’m going to do it, I need to really do it (thanks, all you PNNers!). Apparently, this was the easiest part of the process.

Finding a website that will accept “Continuing Adult Education” as a qualifying school, in order to receive a discount, is proving to be an impossible task. An e-mail to my teacher asking where past students have been purchasing their software is still unanswered. I also spent everyday on the phone with the school trying to get a copy of my tuition receipt. I didn’t get one when I enrolled (they usually mail it to you) and I need this as proof that I’m in the class. Once I have it, I then need to fax it to whatever company I ordered my software from (if I ever find one). No one could help me. I had to leave messages every where and finally didn’t get it resolved until Friday. I found out that a lot of the staff is new and some key people were out last week.

My teacher wanted us to have our software by the third class session, which is tomorrow night. Also, if I’m not going to be able to purchase the programs I need at a somewhat reasonable rate, I wonder if I can even afford to be a web designer! It’s all overwhelming and quite depressing.

I guess simply wanting to make a change in your life isn’t enough

Peter, Paul, Mary and Daddy & Me

Sometimes it’s hard to understand why celebrity deaths can hit us so hard. We don’t know the celebrity personally, on the contrary, we knew very little, if nothing about them as a real person.

This summer has had an unusually high number of celebrity deaths, many passing before their time.

Michael Jackson affected me deeply. He was an icon I grew up with my entire life. Even though I’m in my 40”s, I can’t recall a time when he was not famous. He was a celebrity for that long!

And although I have fond memories of spinning his records and rushing home to see the World Premiere of Thriller, Michael was my icon. Wednesday we lost an icon from my father’s generation. Mary Travers, of the 60’s folk group Peter, Paul and Mary, passed away at the age of 72.

Although many people now live past this age, it’s still too old to apply, “Gone before their time.” Mary Travers had a long, wonderful musical career. What did strike me about her passing were all the feelings it brought up about my relationship with my Dad.

One of my inherited traits from my father is a deep love of music. Of course, once I hit my teens, our paths diverged. I listened to R&B, Rock, New Wave, Punk, Disco and Pop. My dad didn’t share any of these genres with me. I, for the most part, ditched the music my dad and I would listen to together. Gone were the lazy Sundays sitting on my parents’ huge bed, while my dad put one his Country, Folk or Broadway albums. My mom was a casual music listener, so the stereo was put to better use in the bedroom instead of the living room. Dad and I could spend the whole afternoon listening to records, while Mom watched TV and made dinner.

Although my dad was never one to talk politics, he had a big interest in 60’s folk music. I never knew if he agreed with the political stances a lot of these songs were taking, or if he just liked the harmony and vocals. I enjoy Punk Rock, but I’m not an anarchist. I never bothered to ask him, I just sat and listened. I didn’t really dig Joan Baez, but I liked the Kingston Trio and I loved Peter, Paul & Mary. Mary Travers voice was so angelic. I too would sing, Leaving On A Jet Plane and pretend that what croaked from me was actually as beautiful as her luxurious notes.

My dad was ecstatic to find out from my fifth grade teacher, Mrs. Chin, that I taught the whole class all the words to Puff, the Magic Dragon. She tried to teach us, but kept forgetting the words, it was my duty to dragon lovers everywhere to step in. I remember my dad telling me that some people thought the song was about taking drugs. He was appalled that people would try to soil a beautiful tune about an innocent friendship.

On the surface, my dad was a hard shell of man. He didn’t show tenderness or emotions much. Seeing his love for tender songs like these, confirmed for me that it lurked in there somewhere, but like most men of his generation, it was a sign a weakness to show too much of it.

As I got older, I went out with friends and later boyfriends on Sundays. I no longer sat on the huge bed reading liner notes and comparing album covers. Still, the ground had already been laid for a lifetime love of music and connection it gave us.

When I married, I planned a traditional Catholic wedding in a huge church. My dad had not stepped foot in a church since he was a kid. Then the reception was in a glorious hall with family and friends. Dad always hated social gatherings. He graciously told me it was my day and he would wear and do anything that I needed. Twenty years later, I still appreciate his seemingly simple gesture to me. Anyone who’s ever planned a wedding knows how stressful uncooperative family and guests can be. I was grateful that I had one person who only wanted to make my special day a happy one. I knew we’d have our dance together and I wanted it to be a moment that he could remember. Instead of picking from wedding standards, I surprised my dad with – yes you guessed it - Puff the Magic Dragon. Our dance was one of my most cherished memories. Everyone in attendance knew this obscure song choice had to a very personal decision and my dad beamed with pride that I was not embarrassed for everyone to know this was our song.

When I was pregnant with my first child, I found out that Peter, Paul & Mary was going to play a concert in the suburban town of Concord were I had moved with my husband. My dad had never seen them live. A band from the 60’s now performing in the 90’s? This opportunity may not come around again, so I had to get tickets.

I can truly say that this was one of my dad’s happiest days. To see his daughter sitting on the lawn, his grandchild growing inside, and all the people in attendance could look over view his daughter, who knew all the words to: 500 Miles, Blowin’ In the Wind, If I Had A Hammer, Leaving On A Jet Plane and The Times They Are A Changin’. We had a blast!

My dad passed away a couple of years after the concert. He lived to see his granddaughter, but not my son. I thank God for the music he gave me and I’m grateful that I was able to give it back to him in some small way.

So if you swipe my iPod and see that I have Prince, The Police, The Shins, Al Green, Lady Gaga and Peter, Paul and Mary, you’ll understand why.

Mom Strike

Well my day in San Francisco was ruined by two whiny teenagers and an unexpected dental procedure.

It appears that I was the only one in the family with a cavity! My dentist doesn’t usually do fillings on Saturdays, so I thought I was safe. Since my dentist is far from my home, it is a pain if I have to go in during the week. He kindly made an acceptation and offer to do the filling right then.

My family and I were planning to have lunch right after our checkups, since it was near two o’clock. I knew that eating was not going to be something on my agenda for a few hours now. I suggested to my husband that he take himself and the kids to eat and I would meet them when I was done.

“Oh no,” he began. “We’ll wait for you.”

“Look, I’m not going to feel like eating for awhile, so please take them and yourself to eat.”

“What are you going to do? You have to eat.”

“I’m not going to be able to eat, even if I want to, so can you just please go.”

“No, you’ll get sick if you wait that long. You can eat eggs or soup. Really, we’ll wait for you, it’s okay.”

You can imagine how frustrating this exchange was. I understand and appreciate my husband looking out for me, but these are the kinds of situations that drive me nuts. I’m making what I need very clear, yet I feel like no one is listening.

They waited and the filling didn’t take very long, however I was quite numb. We went to the diner and I watched as my daughter ordered the cheeseburger I’d been looking forward to all week. I scanned the menu for something I though I could gnaw on and settled on a mushroom omelet. With my first swallow, I realized half of my throat was also numb and eating was not going to happen.

Our lunch conversation consisted of my daughter complaining about all the homework she had and how this was really cutting into her time, while my son wanted a minute by minute itinerary of everything we thought we would do and exactly when we could expect to be home. I finally had to give up trying to eat and I sat back exasperated. I was the one uncomfortable, yet I was still trying to make the best of the rest of days. Next up, I wanted to go to my favorite bookstore, but it was all crumbling around me.

The weather was my perfect order. The rain had stopped and it was overcast and cool. I was wearing long pants for the first time in months! The wind was actually blowing, for me this is heaven. I would brush this off and have my day. My daughter was resigned to her fate, but my son just kept going on and on about everything. When he saw me push my plate aside after only a couple of bites he asked why I was complaining so much! I was simply flabbergasted! I’m numb, starving and frustrated. I know when my son gets this way it’s never going to let up. I don’t want him to win by ruining my day, but do I really want to listen to this crap while attempting to have a good time?

My son had a disappointing morning at basketball tryouts. He’s an excellent player, but is often overlooked due to his small size. Each year, he arrives at tryouts and sees how much everyone has grown, and even though he’s grown almost two inches this summer, he still trails behind. I sympathize with his rough day, but when you are in pain and hungry it can quickly snowball to be more than a mom can take.

I turned to my husband and said, “I want to go home.” My husband tried to convince me to stick it out, ignore the kids and try to enjoy the day we both looked forward to all week.  I didn’t have it in me. He at least convinced me to go to the bookstore, since it was only a couple of blocks away. I agreed. We were not in the store for more than five minutes and my son got under my skin again. Obviously, I was over my limit. I decided to remove my self from all of it. I went on Mom Strike!

I walked out of the store and stood outside. I sent my husband a text as to my whereabouts. It seemed to take them all quite a long time. I knew my husband was buying a gift for his brother, but it was taking longer than it should. Finally, they all came out and we walked silently to the car.

As soon as we arrived home, I let the dog out and went to my bedroom and shut the door. I slept for two hours until my Novocain wore off.  Once I could eat, I emerged and heated up a can of soup and took that back to my room. No one spoke to me and I was glad. I could hear their little squabbles and rustling around, but they were going to have to work it all out on their own. Luckily, I have a TV and cable in the bedroom and I discovered that, “The Devil Wears Prada” was just starting. I returned to the kitchen briefly for a box of Trader Joe’s Dark Chocolate Crisps and a large glass of wine.

I was actually starting to enjoy my little strike. It’s amazing what a few hours can do for a mom. Later, my daughter came in to see how I was doing. My son stayed wisely in his room. After the movie, my husband came in the room to check up on me. He apologized for not listening to my request earlier and I told him I was sorry that I couldn’t put it all aside. Then he told me he bought me something. What? When would he have done that? Well when he was taking so long in the bookstore it was because he saw a coffee mug for me. You can’t be mad at a man who buys you a Green Apple Books coffee mug.

My son is officially a teenager this December. I remember my daughter being quite a pill at his age. Now, I hang out with my daughter a lot and we have many things in common.  I know this will come to a screeching halt the moment she gets a boyfriend, but I’m trying to enjoy her while she’s here. When I have days like Saturday, I wonder if I’ll make it through these teen years. I hope my son and I can find our way soon. I’m glad I only have to go through this with two kids. I’m getting too old for all of it!

Wah Wah Wah Wah

Whenever I have to learn something new, I feel like Charlie Brown and everything the teacher says sounds like, “Wah, Wah, Wah, Wah.”

My first night of web design class felt very overwhelming. HTML, XHTML, CSS, Browsers, Servers, oh my!

In a sense, I signed up to learn a foreign language. I flunked Spanish in High School, so foreign language is probably not my best area.

I would love to be good at this. If I could design websites and be able to maintain them, that would rock! I’m just not sure I can do it. Do you ever feel like everyone else around you seems to be more clued in than you are? I felt that way last night. The class was at full capacity, twenty students, and they all seemed to know more than I do, even though I work on a computer all day long!

The class seems very organized and by the end of this course, you will have a fully designed website up on the web. How great would that be?

I have some big decisions to make over the next couple of weeks. Our teacher says (and I agree) that the best way to learn is to do the exercises in class, but at the same time, make a website at home. If you really create a website, it’s easier to see the challenges you may face. Of course to do this, I would need some web design software. Guess what? When you are in a class, you can purchase your software at a student rate. It would be drastically cheaper than I could ever get it on my own. Like most Americans these days, money has been hard to come by. My ever supportive husband told me to just do it. I would feel horrible if I was unable to understand all this computer jargon and then I wasted money we don’t have. These are the type of fears that have held me back in the past. I don’t want to be that person anymore, but I really might not be able to decipher all this stuff. On the other hand, guilt and fear can be a huge motivator and putting out all that dough might be the driving force to make me learn!

I have so many things in the hopper right now. It’s exciting but terrifying. Things have stayed the same in my life for awhile, but now, things are not only changing, I’m the one changing them. I can only see a little farther up the path right now. I’m okay with not being able to see the end. I’m trying to just enjoy the walk.

Back to School for Mom Too!

I finally took the plunge and signed up for a night class that starts tomorrow. I often take writing workshops, knitting classes and various one day workshops here and there, but this time it’s, Intro to Web Design with Dreamweaver. It’s a real class meeting once a week till December. I’ll even need a textbook! After this class is an Intermediate and Advanced session. That’s getting ahead of myself. I’ll be happy if I can just follow along in this beginners class.

I’m not one of those people who pick up on things easily. I’m very visual and I need someone to sit down and show me how to do something. I’ve tried to go on message boards and such, but I feel like everyone nowadays has this basic computer knowledge, that I somehow missed out on. I tried, about a year ago, to take an online class on HTML, but it could have been a foreign language! I had no idea what they were talking about.

This is probably not going to become a new career for me, but if I can just have a better understanding of how websites work, and mostly what I can do when they screw up, then I’d get my moneys worth.

I definitely have some future career goals in mind. Web design is one small piece of my big picture. I created a path for myself; I have my goals laid out. I’m pretty scared, but excited too. It’s amazing when you finally realize what you want. The nice part is I’m old enough to know that what we plan is rarely what we get. Even the rare occasion when you do get exactly what you wanted, you often find it’s quite different than you thought it would be.  

So I’ve decided to go on a journey. I’ll head  down the path of what I think I want, but I’ll keep me eyes open for detours along the way. If I follow my true passions, it might open a door I never knew existed.

Tip of the Hat to Single Parents

How do single parents do it? No really, I mean it. My husband was in Chicago all week for training. He doesn’t travel much for his job, so I’m not really prepared to handle everything by myself.

Last month, oddly enough, he was gone for two weeks, (I swear this is very rare) but the kids were on summer vacation, so it wasn’t as much of a challenge. This time, they are both fully entrenched in school and I certainly felt the difference.

My husband is in charge of math homework. It’s not even an option for me to help either kid with their math homework. They might as well bring me ancient hieroglyphics! So, if dad is not available, then the older one has to help the younger one. Two teenaged siblings working together usually involve lots of yelling, questioning of power and lots of comments like, “You’re not the boss of me you know!” Somehow, they got through all of the homework assignments without killing each other.

Then there were the evening commitments. My son had a doctor’s appointment Monday evening. I try to make evening appointments whenever I can to avoid asking for time off at work. Although I’m grateful for the evening times, it does make for a long day. Thursday was my daughter’s “Back to School Night.” It was tough not having anyone to talk to all night and the drive home was a bit of a bummer. I always like my husband’s input on the teachers and courses.

My biggest challenge was parenting both of them by myself. I couldn’t rely on good cop, bad cop, no one would step in after I flew off the handle. I had a particularly stressful week at work, coupled with kids who refuse to wake up in the morning, back talking and unreasonable requests. By Thursday morning, we all sat in the car, silent. They thought they were punishing me by not speaking to me. I though, “Thank God for some piece and quiet!”

The bright side is we all made up before dad returned home, so I guess alone, I would’ve worked it out, but I’m sure glad I don’t have to.  

How Was This Sicko Ever Set Free?

 So earlier this week we learned about a kidnapped girl being found alive after being abducted 18 years ago. While it’s wonderful news to find out she is alive, we are all shocked and horrified to find that she was being held captive all these years. She was tortured and repeatedly raped. Her abductor, Philip Garrido, is also responsible for fathering two children with her. These girls, 15 and 11, have never had a doctor’s visit and have never attended school.

Unfortunately, this story just gets worse everyday. This story is particularly troubling to me because he was living in the town of Antioch. This town is only a few minutes away from my own.  

This sicko, bastard went to jail for kidnapping and raping a young woman in the 1970’s. This is her interview on Larry King Live. He served eleven years for his crime and was set free. Can you be rehabilitated from this type of crime? I don’t think so. He had an actual “lair” set up to commit his sick acts. He had a mattress on the floor and porn stashed away in a secluded warehouse. To me this is so deviant and heinous, how can your time ever be served?

Victims of violent, sexual crimes such as these should never have to live one day with fear that their captures are out on the street again. Every time they show this guys face on the TV it makes me sick, imagine how his victims must feel. I only continue to follow this story, because I want to see justice done. The system failed all of his victims and I have a horrible feeling that they are going to keep popping up.

P.S. I' ve had a lot of technical difficulties lately with posting anything other than text. I've tried several different computers, but I haven't been able to get the tools menu on most days. I will have to ask you to search "Larry King Live - Katie Hall" in order to watch this interview. In the meantime, I will keep trying to post the link. If anyone has any suggestions on how to resolve this, they would be appreciated. 

So What Does A Full-Time Working Mom Do With A Day Off?

Here’s what happened. I decided to take a vacation day from work last Friday. My son had one of those lame “half” days, this means a 11:45 am dismissal. I could:

a) take a ridiculously early lunch hour and bring him home, then go back to the office

b) pay for 5 hours of after school care

c) use a vacation day and have the morning all to myself

I chose option “c.” I figured after my first full week of getting up an hour earlier than I had in the previous three months, I would relish a day off.

Usually, my plans have a way of going sour. Things always seem to come up at the last minute and before I know it, I’m running around like a mad woman and have no time to myself. Well this was a rare occasion where it all went in the opposite direction.

On Thursday night, a mother of one of son’s classmates called to invite him to the movies after school. Now I would not have to pick him up before noon. My teenage daughter also had a secured a ride home after school. I was going to be completely alone until 3pm!

So what did I do with my precious time? Well I went grocery shopping at 8:30 in the morning. I didn’t have to rush my way through the supermarket, I could sidle up the aisles and closely exam my produce selections.

I came home and made myself some cinnamon toast and had a nice cup of coffee in my beloved Dolly Parton coffee mug (see tab of my mug collection). I then grabbed my current read “Still Alice” and the pooch went in the backyard as I read…for 45 minutes!

I then did three loads of laundry, emptied the vacuum canister, vacuumed, tidied up here and there and then it was lunch time.

I did some web surfing while noshing on my bagel with cream cheese and sipping my diet root beer. I didn’t find what I was looking for and instead ended up on PNN, where I saw Embassy Wife's 5-Minute Jambalaya http://kellyarmstrong.pnn.com/articles/show/50558-5-minute-jambalaya I had most of the ingredients including the okra. I declared it as kismet and ran back to the grocery store for Creole seasoning and shrimp. I prepped while listening to the latest jazz CD from Renee Olstead, it was heaven.

I received a call from my office. This could have stressed me out. I forgot to do something, an important item could not be located, but my great day continued. My supervisor wanted to know if I wanted in on the mega-million jackpot that they were collecting a pool for. The jackpot is up to 360 million, so maybe, as I write this, I’m already a millionaire!

By the time both my kids came home, I was so mellow, nothing could rile me up. My husband could even tell, from our brief phone conversation, that I was relaxed and feeling good. I read my book a little more and started to make my jambalaya. I served dinner early, (which by the way was excellent and Bud Light Lime was the perfect accompaniment) had all the dishes cleaned and was catching up on recorded TV shows with my daughter by 7pm.

All in all, it was the perfect day. To most people it may appear I didn’t do much at all. It was sort of like “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off,” I didn’t change the world, or even accomplish anything of tangible value, but I had a nugget of nothingness that I rarely ever get handed. There’s so much rushing around these days. Even when we try to actively avoid it, it often rears its ugly head anyway. This day was a gift. It was silent, peaceful and all mine. I hope it will sustain me for awhile.

Dream Come True and Worst Nightmare

Yesterday, my son and I were driving home in the car. He’s finally old enough to sit up front with me, which certainly makes conversations easier. We first started to talk about how hard it is for moms not to think of their children as sweet little babies forever. Then the talk to turned to a current missing five year child we keep seeing on the news. I explained to him how horrible that is for a parent.

How can you ever move on or have any joy when maybe, just maybe, your child is still alive and possibly being tortured somewhere? Tapping into those emotions always leaves me so raw. I can’t begin to fathom how anyone can walk around with something like that.

Then the news today said they found Jaycee, missing since 1991. This of course is national news, but she was found just a couple of towns over from where I live. It proves that you can never give up hope, but also that you’re worst fears can also be true. She was abducted by a pervert. She is now the mother of two of his children and has been living in a shed behind the house, like the prisoner he should have been. Apparently, his wife was in on this too and she has also been arrested.

Jaycee has been reunited with her mother and I’m sure we’ll hear more in the coming days. I was of course a weeping mess watching this story. I’m so conflicted emotionally. I feel so much joy that she was found, that nothing happened to her mother in the mean time and I’m ecstatic that they were able to be reunited.  

The other side of me feels so much anger towards these two people. I want justice, but I want vigilantly justice. I have nothing in me for people that would torture children. I can’t forgive, pity or move on. This will be a tough one for me at Heaven’s Gate. I have always felt these types of crimes should be charged as first degree murder. They killed someone’s childhood in such a disgusting and miserable way and you can’t get ever get it back.

Jaycee’s step-father was a suspect in the case. Imagine living with that cloud of suspicion for 18 years. How many lives has this dirt bag and his accomplice wife ruined? The two young girls have never been to school or had any kind of normal life.

I hope Jaycee and her family can move on. I’m sure they are better people than I am. Holding in all the anger will only hurt yourself in the end. To truly be free you have to let it go. I know all this, yet I’d be first in line for the opportunity to personally kick this guy’s ass.

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/32583149/ns/us_news-crime_and_courts/?GT1=43001

Part Two

So I would like to say I worried for nothing. My children floated out of bed, humming a cheery tune. They grabbed their backpacks and lunches and kissed me on the cheek before leaving the car. We exchanged “I love yous” and they took on their day with vigor.

That’s not what happened.

My daughter already started last week, so she wasn’t too bad. I think I went in her room four times before she finally woke up. Remember I took the day off from work, so all I had to do was throw on my sweats and release the hound from his crate. I was technically ready in about ten minutes.

The night before, I asked my son to empty out his backpack, (I discovered earlier that day that he never cleaned out his old school supplies from the last day of school!) lay out his school uniform and have his bag of new supplies ready to go.

When I went to wake him up, I noticed the backpack still looked bulky. Sure enough, he had not taken anything out. The pack was littered with random dried out markers and broken pencils. I went to kitchen to get a paper bag to empty the contents into. The noise of this task was what finally woke him up.

“What are you doing?”

“Emptying your backpack, you didn’t do it last night. I’m just going to put everything in this bag and you can go through…”

He jumped out of bed, “Don’t do it for me! I’ll do it!”

I understand the need for independence, and believe me no one wants that more than me. What my son fails to understand though is we have to be out the door no later than 7:15 a.m. if he expects to make it to school by the 8:05 bell. Still, I walked away and let him empty the backpack. Then he couldn’t find his belt.

He didn’t put the belt out last night and didn’t tell me he couldn’t find it. I looked around his room, but I didn’t see it either. I told him to forget it. It’s only half a day and he can look for later when he gets home.

This suggestion was unacceptable. He is positive that he will get detention if he doesn’t have his belt, even if it’s only the first day. I scan the room again, but no belt. As he’s dressing, I start to scan my own closet for a possible unisex belt he can pass off for one day. Dad’s belts are still too large, but I was able to find a couple of middle of the road belts in my collection. One was too big and the adjustable one could not be adjusted fast enough to meet his patience level. Time was quickly running out. As I’m bringing the dog outside, because he’s barking incessantly, my son proclaims that he has now found his original belt, in his dresser drawer, where I claimed I saw it all along.

Just as I’m thinking we’ll be leaving, I remember my daughter has no lunch. I agreed to make it for her the night before because she was up quite late doing homework. I should have made it before I went to bed, but I thought I’d have more than enough time in the morning, since I wouldn’t need to get myself ready for work.

As I’m slapping the lunch together, my son comes out and flops down on the futon. I remind him that he was supposed to have all those items together last night and now we risk being late on the first day. His response, “Well, I’m ready now. You’re the one who is not ready.”

I will spare you, gentle reader, of the rant this incited from me. Let’s just say when I was done, we locked up the dog and fled from house. I was thankful to at least have my travel mug filled with hot coffee.

We did mange to get to both schools on time, but I ask you, how am I going to do this tomorrow when I have to worry about work to? Welcome back.

Back to School Lament

Well it all ends tomorrow. My daughter started the 11^th grade last Wednesday. She managed to procure rides home each day, so I didn’t feel it too much. Tomorrow though, my son goes back. He’ll be starting 7^th grade and basically life as I know it, (or have for the last few months) is now over.

I have to get up an hour earlier every morning, which is just horrible for a night-owl like me. I have to get both of them up. No more morning cup of coffee before leaving the house. I’ll have to bust out the neglected travel mug. I have to clean out the back seat of the car to make sure there’s room for the backpacks.

My daughter already gave me a million forms to sign last week. Tomorrow I’ll have a new truckload from my son’s school. I took a vacation day tomorrow. He only has a half day, so I want to ease into the new routine. At least I can throw on sweats and a baseball cap and drive him to school. Then I can treat myself to breakfast somewhere. Of course the day is a mish-mash of running around. Sure he’s out early, but “back to school nite” is at 7pm. I have to make sure everyone is home and has had dinner already before I leave. This is why a couple of years ago I realized it was crazy to try to work till 5pm on the first day, drive home, stay for about 15 minutes, and then run out to get back to school by 7! Now that the kids are old enough to stay on their own, I can use the luxury of a vacation day for hectic days like tomorrow. I guess it will still be awhile before all my vacation days are truly for vacation and not just to get things done.

In a little while, we have to go get new sneakers for my son. I think I got all the school supplies, but in reality, I don’t really care. If I forgot something, so what? I’ve now had a dozen first days of school and I’m tired. If I bust my butt, I will still have forgot something, or did something wrong, so I can’t worry about it anymore. Maybe I’ll regret this new found school malaise, but I have so many things on my plate these days, I can’t muster up enough energy to care too much. It will all get done somehow.

The funny thing is, I’m so wrapped up in summer not wanting to end, but I had a sucky summer! We had lots of stress and personal crisis rear their ugly heads. Maybe that’s the problem. I guess I feel cheated on some level. All in all it only felt like two weeks. I can so vividly see the last day of school, how could that have been June?

I should try to adopt a positive attitude. “This will be the best school year ever!” Oh, there’s that little nagging voice that knows better, “C’mon Colleen, in a couple of weeks you’ll already be looking at the calendar and counting the days till Christmas Break.” You can’t do the same thing and expect different results, right? Instead of having the fresh-sunny hopeful attitude I usually have, maybe coming to table with my cynical baggage to begin with will ensure that I don’t have a big let down. Sometimes I think we underrate low expectations!

I’ll keep you updated on how the week pans out.

Fair Weather Makeup Wearer

I wore makeup to work today. I wore some yesterday too. Before that I didn’t wear any makeup for a couple of weeks.

I completely marvel at women who wear makeup everyday without fail. I’ve worked with women over the years that even when they come to work sick, they are still wearing makeup! I’ve never been able to do it. I go pretty well for awhile, usually after I watch an episode of “What Not To Wear,” but I always fall off the makeup wagon.

My new course of action is to put on moisturizer and sunblock before I leave the house. Then once I get to work, a little powder, eyeliner and my Burt’s Bee’s tinted lip balm. This takes about 30 seconds and I do look more put together. I know it won’t last though.

Maybe, it’s just because I’m not a morning person. Often, on the weekends, I curl my eyelashes, foundation, whole bit. Sometimes. Other times I feel like I’ll just be running around doing errands, do I really need makeup for that?

How do women do it? Don’t even get me started on the hair. If it takes longer than a minute to do my hair, forget it!

I guess it’s just laziness. I chose my outfits carefully and I like to match my earrings, so it’s not like I’m putting no thought into myself before I head out the door. It’s funny to figure out though because I don’t see a lot of women at work like me. They either wear makeup everyday or never wear makeup. Am I alone or are there others like me out there?

So That Was A Weekend?

Here I am at 9pm on Sunday night and I’m exhausted. The entire weekend went by in a complete whirl. It felt like it was only a few hours. I’m certainly not feeling rested in any way. How am I going to jump into a five day work week?

My weekend consisted of running around like a chicken with my head cut off, in an attempt to get everything done before school starts.

First, we had to upgrade our cell phones. My husband’s wouldn’t keep its charge any more. My daughter’s phone had three huge cracks in it and my son had no idea where his phone was! Now that we all have phones with new features, I’ll be spending many hours calling our provider and going online in an effort to get everything set up and make sure we know how to access all the services. Whenever we get any new gadget I spend several weeks feeling like a complete idiot. I always feel that everyone in world figures out these things quicker than I do.

Then there are school clothes. I couldn’t buy any clothes or shoes for my son because he’s grown two inches this summer. Anything purchased too soon would just have to be replaced. My son has to wear a white polo to school every day with a school sweatshirt. Last week I went and purchased the sweatshirt, but the polos are overpriced at the uniform store. I usually go to A Children’s Place, Target, or Mervyn’s and get five shirts for $6.99 each. Well, Mervyn’s went out of business, A Children’s Place looked like they changed manufactures and Target only had x-small. So I will now be on a quest for shirts the rest of the week. We didn’t even get to shop for shoes.

I managed to get school supplies for my son a couple of weeks ago, but my daughter won’t get her supply list until she reports to her classes on Wednesday. I’m already prepared to take her – list in hand – as soon as I get home from work on Wednesday. She had the audacity to ask for a new backpack. “Is there anything wrong with your current backpack?” “No, I’m just tired of it.” Guess what my answer was?

This coming Saturday, I have a very good friend visiting for the afternoon. Although we’ve lived in our house for six years now, she’s never been here. I’ll have to make somewhat of a good first impression, so I’ll be cleaning my butt off all week. That’s actually a blessing in disguise, because I’m guaranteed that the house will be in tip top shape before school begins.

I tried to have my son work on his room throughout the summer, but we obviously have very different definitions of clean. He did sort out some of his clothes, but honestly, he’s outgrown about 90% of his wardrobe. He also has officially stopped playing with toys of any kind, so I want them out. I’ve realized it’s never going to happen unless I get in there myself and show no mercy.

I guess I’m a bit down because I realize what my life will be like this week. It’s doubtful I’ll have any “me” time. They’ll be very little blogging, DVD watching or reading. Lately, I’ve been enjoying my summer schedule of leaving the house at 8am, after checking my e-mail and having a cup of coffee. Next week it all comes to a screeching halt. I have to wake up an hour earlier, wake the kids up a gazillion times, make my coffee to drink in the car, stop at the high school, then the grammar school, then head over to my office. Most of my lunch hours will be picking them up from school and bringing them home so they can get a jump start on their homework. Each year, I feel like I can’t do it all again. The kids are getting older and before I know it I’ll look back on my empty nest and long for these days. Right now, I wonder…really? 

Auntie's House

Yesterday, my sister and mom came to my house and whisked my kids away for the week. I still can’t believe my kids are gone till Friday. My husband and I went to the movies last night and then wandered around the book store. That will be our best day because now it’s the work week. I had to bring work home tonight, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. It’s not fair, why am I bombarded now? I’m hoping I can get it all done tomorrow during regular office hours. I really want to just chill out with my hubby.

Thirteen years ago my dad passed away. Shortly after that, my mom moved in with my sister. They live about an hour and a half away and my sister has no kids. She’s never really wanted the whole mom thing. She loves being Cool Auntie!

For years my daughter (the oldest) has been going up for a week every summer. My son is another story. He is quite the handful and I’ve worried about him being there for an extended period of time. He went last summer for just a few days. He did so-so. Last summer my daughter had her first job and was in a summer drama class so she didn’t go. This means this is the first time they have both been gone at the same time.

My mom and sister are completely spoiling them. They took them to the mall today and gave them spending money. Wednesday they go to the zoo and who knows what else. I’m sure they went to the grocery store and bought them all their favorite foods. It’s okay though. This summer especially, things have been so tough financially that I feel awful that we really haven’t done much of anything. I’m not a believer in it takes money to have a good time, but let’s face it, you need some! Just going to see “Harry Potter” set us back almost $50 bucks and we didn’t even buy movie food!

So I hope they have fun. I keep going back and forth between should I sit on my butt all week or should I clean the house from top to bottom to prepare for back to school. I know I want to get some reading done. I want to blog (check that one) and get caught up with some small projects. Friday will be here before I know it.

I know you’re wondering why I’m not with the hubby. Well he went for a late night run. He’ll be back soon. Maybe I can talk him into a foot rub!

An Oven Within My Means

So the new oven was installed on Saturday. I’m rolling around in contented happiness about the fact that the whole process went off without a hitch!

How many times do you have something delivered only to have to pay extra because you don’t have the right hook-up or, it doesn’t fit, doesn’t work, it’s the wrong thing, something always goes wrong, right?

Well I had a noon to 4 PM delivery window. The installation guys were here at 12:15 and gone in about 20 minutes. They pulled out the old oven, popped in the new one, checked it to make sure it worked and were on their way. I couldn’t believe it.

My old oven was purchased by the previous owners of my house back in 2001. It was a Thermador convection oven. I guess these are high end ovens and cost a pretty penny. It really should not have died in only eight years, but it always had “issues.” My family has lived in this house since 2003 and shortly after we became the owners of the Thermador, the convection feature broke. I never fixed it because I only used it once. The rest of the time I just hit BAKE. Then, it never seemed to be centered in the wall correctly. The top kind of stuck out and the light constantly came on. Every time you walked by, the light would come on and you would have to press your body against the door and tip-toe away once the light went off! Oh, and there was a 2 inch gap from where the oven ended and our bottom kitchen cabinet started. Warm air would blow out of this gap whenever the oven was on. I never felt like I had a luxury high-end appliance.

I also wondered what people thought when they saw my fancy brand oven. Nothing else in my house is high-end and I certainly do not have a reputation for my great cooking. I’m sure no one ever thought twice about it, but I envisioned people leaving my house saying, “What’s Colleen doing with an oven like that?”

So now I have my Kenmore oven, the cheapest one on the Sears sales floor. It fits perfectly in the wall, no gap, no air blowing out. The light only comes on only when I press the “light on” button. I’ve made some bread and of course, cookies. It seems to work fine.

When the installation guys took out the Thermador, they commented that it weighed twice as much as the new one. That explained it. It was pitching forward because my old, 1963 cabinets were not prepared to uphold something that heavy. The new oven is snug in the wall and even the top part doesn’t jut out like the old oven.

I don’t want to jinx myself, but I have a feeling this oven will work for the next thirty years.

Janitorial Duties

So my second week of doing the janitorial duties at my office has come to a close. I think I mentioned before that I work in a relatively small office and one of my co-workers husband takes care of all our janitorial needs. Last year, she asked me if I would be his backup whenever they go on vacation, and I jumped at the chance. I’ll take on any legal and legitimate odd job to earn extra cash! Lord knows I always need it.

Our office building is upstairs and downstairs with four bathrooms and a kitchen. It takes about an hour and a half to two hours each night to clean. I do all the basic toilet scrubbing, loading the dishwasher and emptying garbage cans. Then each night I do one extra duty: polish the wood tables, dust the banisters or sweep the stairs. Fridays are very light days because the office is quiet. Some employees don’t work on Fridays and some work a shortened day. The Friday clean-up only takes about 45 minutes. All in all it’s a good gig.

Don’t get me wrong, working all day and then doing a couple of hours of physical labor, completely wipes me out! My family has been regulated to sandwiches or TV dinners all week. Since we are still without an oven, I’m not going to chop and dice once I get home. I’m the queen of, pop-it-in-the-oven-hit-bake-and-go. Not having an oven for a couple of weeks has been an extra challenge. Still, there’s something about manual work and moving around, that I enjoy.

It’s funny how quickly I shift into a different mode. I’m walking around the same office, but suddenly my eyes see it from a clearly clean-up prospective. I don’t see work items or notes on people’s desk. Instead I see only, can that going in the recycling?

Twenty years ago, I cleaned the bathrooms at the art school I attended. I worked my day job close by and on my lunch hour, I would pop in and spruce up the bathrooms and they in turn would give me a discount on my tuition. Somehow, I’ve always been drawn to janitorial work. Maybe I missed my calling.

I enjoy how quiet it is and how everything is sparkling when your done. It seems like work with a purpose and instant gratification. Mixing blue collar and white collar work though, may not be the best idea. Luckily, I’m no longer on the fast track and I’m not interested in working my way up the corporate ladder.

Case in point, a few nights ago I was scrubbing the toilet in the men’s room; the toilet brush slipped and water splattered all over the floor. As I’m down on all fours-wiping up water behind the toilet-one of my co-workers, who was working a bit past 5p.m., walked by as he was leaving. He peeked in the propped open door, “Goodnight Colleen.” I lifted up my head, “Oh, goodnight!” I chuckled as I heard his descending foot steps. I’ll bet I could never be his boss after that?

When I feel like standing on my soapbox, I think it’s a good idea to mix both. Work is work and it should all be viewed the same. There should be no difference in the world between me crunching numbers and scrubbing the toilet. I take pride in both jobs. There’s also a level of security that comes in to play. The more types of jobs you’re willing to do, the better your chances are of always having work.

My toilet brush is held high.

Feeling Sorry for Myself

So Sunday night I decided to watch the new TLC show, “Michael J. Fox: Adventures of an Icurable Optimist.” I lasted about five minutes and then I hit the record button. I wasn’t feeling quite so optimistic. Probably because it was Sunday night. I always have the blues on Sunday night. You know, the whole weekend is over, back to the grind, same ol’ same ol’ drill.

But today, I still don’t feel optimistic. I really try to appreciate my blessings everyday. My children are healthy, my husband and I both have jobs, I have somewhere to live. I can so easily find someone in a worse situation. I know this. Yes, I do know this. I also know that sometimes, I just can’t muster it up. It can be a lot of work to keep looking on the bright side.

Some days, I hate my job. I hate pinching pennies all the time. I hate that I can’t write full time and I’m stuck in a boring office job. I hate that the weather is so hot. I hate that my damm dog barks all the time!

I’m a recovering negative person. I decided some years ago that I would work hard to appreciate the good things in my life. I would no longer muck up my past and my future by focusing on the bad things. Most days I can do it, but sometimes I fall off the wagon. The problem now is when I begin to wallow in my own self pity, I not only feel negative, I feel guilty too. I’m fully aware of the fact that it’s unproductive and keeps me from moving forward. I’m aware that I only need to step outside my front door and I can see someone having a tougher time than me.

Maybe I’m not as despicable as I think. I can probably chalk this up to still not feeling well. My defenses are down. I still can’t watch Michael J. Fox tonight. Then I will feel like a horrible person. This positive thinking is one day at a time. Today, I let a crummy day get the best of me. Tomorrow I’ll get back on the wagon.  

I'm Not Sick

On Tuesday my throat started hurting. I can’t afford to be sick right now. I have a lot of important things to do. I have a busy weekend ahead and my husband is finally coming home tomorrow. I tried to deny it, but Wednesday I felt worse. Today, I feel kind of creepy. I’m not sick. I refuse to be sick.

I sat at my desk and kept waffling between asking if I could go home sick, or if I should stick it out. I have a vacation day tomorrow, but it’s because I have commitments and important things I have to do. I managed to make it through the work day. I feel guilty asking to go home when I’m trying to make certain that I’m healthy for my personal time.

If I’m worse tomorrow, what happens? Can I call work and ask to change my vacation day to a sick day? That seems fair right? I mean if I was no longer able to do what I was planning to on the vacation day it should be converted to a sick day. I would never do that. I would just be sick and bitter for getting screwed out of my vacation day.

I’m trying to have mind over matter. I will feel better tomorrow. I took a nap when I came home from work and I’ve done very little, actually nothing. I heated up a can of chicken noodle soup for dinner. It was a challenge to eat soup in 100 degree weather, but it did soothe my throat.

My husband will be home tomorrow after a two week business trip. I wanted to be a bundle of energy. I pictured myself jumping up and down to show how happy I am that he’s finally home. We need to shop for that new oven. I wanted the house to be cleaner for his homecoming.

I’ve had a lot on my plate lately and I’m pretty stressed out, even though I’m pretending that I’m not. Last week I had two jobs with doing the janitorial at my office. It’s no surprise that I’m sick. I’m vulnerable.

Tomorrow I will be all better. This will not affect my three weekend. Maybe now I’m a bit behind, but really I’m not sick. Really.

Bad Hair Color

Well, after many long years, I found a fabulous hair stylist. He costs a lot, but it’s not ridiculous. I have pretty thin hair and no talent when it comes to styling my locks. Basically, if it takes more than a minute, it’s not going to happen. So for me, a great cut is essential. Because it’s a bit pricey, I wait until my hair looks as horrible as possible. I also do my own color. At a fairly young age I started dyeing my hair a light reddish color.

I have very dark brown hair and very pale white skin. So pale in fact that a co-worker once told me they thought I was putting on white makeup. This was in the late 80’s when all my friends had jet black spiky hair and heavy black eyeliner. Not me though. I didn’t want to look dead; I just don’t have any pigmentation!

So for over a couple of decades now, I have not had my natural hair color. I’ve used various shades over the years and I feel I’ve done a good job picking colors that looked natural. For the last several years I’ve a shade that was lighter than I’ve ever had before and I’ve had more compliments than ever. Even my hairdresser said it was a great color on me, instead of trying to convince me that I should let him do it (one of the reasons I love going to him).

Well, of course this is a sad story. Suddenly, I can’t find my color anywhere. I’ve gone to four or five different drugstores. I’ve looked in my town and San Francisco. I even went on the company website. It’s just gone!

I had to pick another color. I had too. I took careful selection. Friday night I got my haircut, much shorter than usual and it looks great! I wanted to take care of everything this weekend so that I won’t be loaded down come Monday. In addition to house cleaning and running errands, I wanted to color my hair too, so my new cut would look as fantastic as possible. Well….

The shade is about ten times darker than the photo on the box! It also has that kind of purplish tint to it that I hate because it looks so unnatural! It’s not a little bit darker, it’s a lot darker! I don’t want to color over it because I don’t want to damage it. I should just live with for a month or so. Now I have to go to work tomorrow and explain to everyone that it’s way darker than I planned. Maybe I should send out an e-mail. “Colleen knows she royally screwed up her hair. Please be kind by not bringing it up.”

What’s my husband going to say when he gets back from his trip on Friday? I wanted to look super cute for him. Now he’ll feel like, “What have you done with my wife?”

I haven’t even gone out in public yet. I’m afraid about how purple it’s going to look in natural sunlight! Plus now I’m forced to wear makeup everyday so I don’t look too pale and sick. I’m too old to still be making beauty mistakes. I’m going to give Herbal Essences a piece of my mind!

A Little Breather

So here I am at the end of the week…finally! This week I do feel old. It was physically difficult to work all day and then clean my office building at night. Of course my house has suffered. It’s not as bad as it could be, but it’s going to take some serious cleaning to whip it into shape.

As I approach the weekend, I have my usual writing dreams bouncing in my head. I will get so much writing done that smoke will come out of my computer! Well, this computer is on its last legs so that would likely happen anyway! I promise to finally get back to my novel and maybe even start or brush up an essay.

I’m telling myself that this weekend is different from the others because my hubby is gone. My husband is away for two weeks. He’s never been gone that long and never over a weekend.

We rarely do anything special, but now that we can leave the kids on their own, we enjoy going out together to run errands. We can speak freely in the car and there’s no complaining from the peanut gallery about how long till we’re done. Still, we have different ways in which we go about getting things accomplished.

I call my husband a “home base” guy. He likes to do a few things, come back home, chill for a brief moment and then go out again. He also takes his time getting ready. Just when I think we’re heading out the door, he’ll start doing something else, or whatever sporting event he’s watching has now gone into triple overtime.

On the other side is how I go about my day. I like to go out once. I know everything I have to do, I want to go out, get all of it done and that way when I’m home, I’m home. I can sit on my butt and know that I’m done for the rest of the day.

Marriage of course is compromise, so we usually work it out. However, I do get more accomplished when he’s not around. I also get lonely. We talk a lot and it’s hard not to have our nightly knosh session.

I will make the best of it. I will get a lot done. Cleaning and writing. Writing and cleaning. That sounds like a fun weekend, right?

Guess Who's Getting A New Oven?

Guess Who’s Getting A New Oven?

The repair guys came before 10am, so I’m at least grateful that it didn’t cut into my whole day. Hey, I plan to write all day, so the fewer interruptions the better!

They tried. At first they took off the upper panel and started fiddling with the wires. Then they turned the power back on and began screwing the panel back in. I was hopeful.

“So, was a wire out?”

“No. We’re still looking” he replied.

Great! Then they did a few other things, but no dice. SO he writes up my repair estimate. Ready? $567! Since the previous owners of my house purchased the oven I have no idea what they paid, so asked the guy, “How much do these type of oven cost?” He tells me about $800 bucks. I paid them the $65 for the service call and sent them on their way.

Am I crazy to think that eight years is too soon for an oven to break down? I’ve never had an oven break on me, ever! My husband comes back from his business trip on Friday, so next weekend I guess we’ll be oven shopping!

I pulled down my fifteen year old toaster oven and it still works like a charm. What gives?

Rough Week

So it’s already a rough week. I wanted to do a 4^th of July post, but that’s already old news. As usual, there are just not enough hours in the day.

I did have a nice relaxing holiday, but then my husband had to catch a flight to Dallas, TX and the airporter shuttle was picking him up at 3:30am Monday morning! I decided to hit the sack earlier than usual because I knew my sleep would be interrupted. My husband, on the other hand, decided that he would stay up and wait to sleep on the plane!

He started packing at 11pm. All the lights were on and he was banging around. He even asked me random questions. I looked at the clock and verified that one question was posed to me at 2:30am.

I can’t complain. My husband always cleans up after himself, doesn’t leave socks around and always puts down the toilet seat! As hubbys go, he’s a pretty low-maintenance guy. This was really because he didn’t want to go on this trip. He’s never had to travel much at his job and two weeks will be the longest he’s ever been gone. I know he was trying to spend as much time with the kids and me as he could.

Sweet, but damm was I tired once it was time to get up for work! I ended up sleeping pretty  much between 5am and 6:30 am and that was about it. The extra challenge is I have a second job all this week.

I work in a small two story office building. There are around fifteen employees, so we’re a tight knit group. This week I’m doing the janitorial. It’s a gig I only get a few weeks a year when the regular person is on vacation. I’m always happy to make some extra dough, but it does make for a long day. At 5pm I shut down my computer and begin to empty trash cans and clean four bathrooms. It’s nice and quiet in the office and expect for having a backache from the constant bending, it’s not bad work.

This means I don’t get home till 7 or 7:30pm and I don’t have energy left for anything! Yesterday, I plopped down on the sofa and didn’t move again. Tonight, I was also exhausted, but starving. I had a few mini frozen pizzas-ya know, those are good enough-and decided that was dinner. I turned on the oven and began putting my stuff away, sorting mail…still the oven hadn’t beeped. My oven chirps when the desired temperature is reached. I had it set for 425 and it was only 120 after 10 minutes!

Great! So any extra money I pick up this week is going to end up fixing the oven? That’s going to make the week even rougher. Why is it so hard to get ahead? I was happy I didn’t ditch the old toaster oven. Lots of loud clanking and climbing, finally retrieved it from the high kitchen cabinet. Mini pizza by 8:30! Please let the oven fairies come while I sleep. Or maybe elves, like in the shoemaker story. They can fix the oven while I sleep and tomorrow it will be all better? Really.

Concert

As previously mentioned, my daughter planned to go the The Vans Warped Tour last Saturday. It was an all day outdoor concert at Pier 30 in San Francisco. At first, I thought there was a large group of kids going, but then I found out it would be my tiny daughter (clocking in at 4’9”) and only two of her fresh-faced teenage buddies. The tour website was littered with artistic skulls and a cavalcade of indie-rock bands performing on eight different stages. I started to wonder what kind of crowd was going to show up for this kind of thing! 

My daughter will be starting her junior year of high school in August, so I realize she’s not getting any younger. I actually want her to be comfortable in San Francisco. I know so many people here in the “The Burbs” that are scared to go to the city. My Mom was very protective of me when I was growing up, because I was the baby in the family and we didn’t live in the greatest neighborhood in San Francisco. However, by the time I was sixteen, I was hopping on public transportation to meet friends, or even explore the city by myself, and this was before cell phones!

It was also great to put my urban background into action. After further discussion with my daughter, I discovered they weren’t quite sure where they were going. Then I found out the other two friends parents weren’t too keen on the whole idea of their daughters going to San Francisco without adult supervision. So we struck a bargain. Although I was looking forward to a quiet Saturday morning to write, I agreed to escort them on BART, not sit next to them on the train, and then get them in the right direction. This ended up being completely unnecessary. As soon as we reached the train station there was a sea of teenagers! The train was packed and when we came up to the city surface street, it was teenagers as far as the eye could see!

I did get to put my city skills into action though and took them away from the exodus of teens and down a quiet street that cut our walk time in half. The girls were happy and felt comfortable to get back to the train home.

It went great. My daughter sent me periodic texts so I wouldn’t worry and she was home by 8pm. The worst part was she was horribly sunburned because who would’ve guessed it would be 90 degrees in San Francisco!

It’s tough to let go, but when I was sixteen I camped out with my best friend all night to get Prince tickets for the “Purple Rain Tour.” How the heck did I pull that one off? By comparison, my daughter’s request was pretty tame. This time.

So How Did I Do?

This is what always happens. I have all these wonderful writing goals and then life gets in the way! So for Saturday, my daughter was going to an outdoor concert in San Francisco and my husband was planning on putting in some overtime at the office. I could plop myself in front of the computer with a bottomless cup o’ joe and clamor away, right? As usual, by Friday night everything changed.

My husband found out they were doing work on his office building and no one could enter on Saturday. He brought work home and was now going to use Saturday to take of errands before his business trip.

The concert was still a “go” for my daughter however; she and her friends weren’t actually sure how to get there. I was now escorting them on BART (subway) which meant I had to be awake and dressed quite early. I can do the waking up early thing, but being dressed and ready to walk out into the world is another story.

Saturday had me arriving back home around 1pm. I did read both ways on the train and I did some journaling at a coffee shop before the train trip back. I got some writing done, but not much.

Sunday was filled with organizing financial paperwork for a possible home re-fi (ug!) and figuring out how to assemble home craft magnets to sell in case the re-fi thing doesn’t work! Oh, I also brought work home from the office, which took three hours to do. While working, I also made pumpkin ginger cookies that I promised myself I’d give as a present to an author I admire. She was doing a reading in my area the following evening. I ended up being awake till almost 1 am and there I was, up at 6:30am on Monday, ready to start the week!

When I have weekends like this I realize, it’s not my imagination, I really don’t have a lot of time to write! I can’t give up though. There’s always another day, another weekend. Hey, my office is closed this Friday. I have the whole day off! Yes, that’s it. I’ll write all day. I’ll get up early and…

Productive Weekend

Can I do it? I have no plans this weekend. Thanks to help from the teenage daughter, the house is pretty clean. My husband informed me that he’s going in to work on Saturday. The teenager is going to an outdoor concert. I have no excuse. I need to write my ass off this weekend!

Maybe I can redeem myself. See I promised that I would write for one hour before work Monday through Friday while my kids are on summer break. Tomorrow ends week three and I haven’t done it once. Shame on me.

The first week I was excused because we went on vacation. I took my new mini laptop on vacation and I wrote a little bit. There, see, I’m cool. This summer I must be committed to my writing.

When I got back, week two, I told myself I still needed time to rest. It was such a rough school year. Now, we’re closing in on week three and the most I’ve done before work is send some e-mails.

I’ve been blogging a lot and that’s good, but it not working on my book. It’s not writing all those essays in my head and finding placed to submit them. It’s not learning to touch type – this hunt and peck is for the birds!

So this weekend I could go gangbusters and give myself my own personal retreat. I can catch up for the time I’ve flitted way so far. Will I do it? I’ll let you know.

The Ever Surprising Teenage Daughter

So this is my first time parenting a teenager. Of course my daughter has some serious teenager attitude, but all in all I’ve been pretty lucky so far. Note I’m careful to say so far. Sometimes, these kids turn on a dime and I never want to take my good fortune for granted.  

She’s a good student, doesn’t get in trouble and is fun to be around. Still, she is sixteen and it goes with the territory that kids often take what we do for granted. So imagine my shock when I came home last week to find my daughter wearing my dishwashing gloves, knee deep in dirty dishes. A quick glimpse behind her and I could see piles of neatly folded laundry atop the family room coffee table!

But here’s the best part, what she said I soon as I entered the house.

“When I woke up this morning I decided to clean the whole house for you so you could relax when you got home today. Mom, I’m exhausted! I haven’t sat down once. How do you do all this?”

That’s a dream come true. Not all the work she did – don’t get me wrong I was loving that – but the realization that what we do is hard work and we do it over and over again.

This is a day to look back on forever. The next time she’s sassy or pisses me off, I will take solace that I was appreciated at least once. Hey, it really doesn’t take much to make us moms happy!

Over Too Soon

Isn’t it amazing how quickly we can leave our day to day life and simply enjoy a life of leisure? For me it seems to last for about two days. I was in Carmel for five days, two of those days I felt relaxed. First, you feel like you’ll never get there. Then it takes time for vacation to sink in. Wow, I woke up on my own. No barking dog, alarm clock – simply done with sleeping. At that point, I started to relax. It didn’t last. Soon I was worrying about what was waiting for me at home. I was validated. I did have some major stress issues to deal with as soon as I returned.

Now I’m back at the office. I took it easy today. I spent the whole day opening my enormous pile of mail and filing things away. It was great to only worry about myself this morning. No kids to get up for school. I was actually ten minutes late getting to the office, because I wasn’t sure what time to leave. Apparently, ten minutes earlier!

I promised myself that I would write for one hour each weekday morning during summer vacation. As usually, something unplanned rears its ugly head. Surprise! That time of month. Cramps, headache, fatigue…none of this is conducive to getting up earlier than you need too. Tomorrow’s a new day. Hopefully, I’ll get up and get some writing done.

I have a lot of personal goals for myself this summer. During the school year the focus is so much on the children and rightly so. I want to give them all I have, but the reality is they’re getting older everyday and more and more; I’m seeing life beyond them. It makes you reexamine who you are and what kind of life you want once their gone.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the roads I’ve taken and the ones I walked past. Not to be sexist, but I think woman more than men put aspects of their lives on hold when raising children. No matter how far our society has come in sharing domestic responsibilities, it’s often the woman who holds back on goals and dreams once the kids enter the picture.

Most moms however, would never change the decisions or sacrifices they made for their children. Most of us fall into the category of wishing we did even more! It goes so fast, I’m always looking back wishing I read more stories to them, did more crafts and definitely gave and received more kisses.

It’s an interesting time in my life right now. When I’m shopping I’ll see toys or picture books and realize they don’t relate to my life anymore. The other day someone referenced a cartoon character I’d never heard of! I can see a time when being a mom is not going to carry the same job description as it does now. It’s important that I begin to plan now, interests, hobbies, causes, things that drive me and are important to who I am as a person, not just a mom.

So although I’ll be spending loads of time with my family this summer, it’s also going to be important that I set some time aside for my own personal journey, because before I know it, it’s going to be a pretty quiet house. Much like vacation, raising kids also seems to be something that’s over too soon! 

A Strange Tale of Vacation

I’m on vacation right now. I’m now on day four of my stay in beautiful Carmel, California. My family and I have come here every summer for almost ten years now. Believe it or not, the company I work for owns a house here and everyone gets to take turns staying in this fabulous house, high on a hill in Carmel Valley. Pretty great perk, right? I sure do appreciate it. If it wasn’t for this house, the only vacation my family could claim in the last decade is a four day stay in Disneyland.

People find it hard to believe, but until I was eighteen, I had never been on vacation. Nothing, nada, zilch. See, I was the youngest child in a former military family. My father retired from the Army when I was four years old. Prior to me hitting the scene, my family lived all over the world. I did live in Germany for a year, but I was a toddler and have absolutely no recollection of my time there. When my father decided to retire from service, I think one the things my family looked forwarded to was staying put. It’s not like I was stuck in the middle of nowhere. We settled in San Francisco. I had a beautiful city at my feet that I could endlessly explore. In my younger years, money was the main reason my family didn’t travel. Heck, we didn’t even own a car until I was twelve! Later on, I think it was just habit. Vacations were never thought of or included in the family budget.

My first vacation was a four day jaunt to Los Angeles with a couple of my friends when I was eighteen. Prior to that trip, I didn’t even remember being on a plane! It’s funny because you would think this would be the story of someone on a farm, or even the tale of an Amish childhood. Here I was growing up in this metropolitan city and I had very little world experience out side my chaotic, noisy, crazy city.

At forty-one, I’m still playing catch up. I haven’t been many places. I’ve never been out of the country ( I really can’t remember that Germany trip so does it technically count?) and even out of state is limited to the Nevada border and a day spent in Tijuana. Really what can I do? It is what it is. I can only hope the world will still be waiting for me when I’m ready.  

Whoo-Hoo!

Yesterday was my son’s last day of school. Today is my daughter’s last day. I did it. Another school year is under my belt. I survived and my family members survived. Each year feels like we emerge from a battle. Two full-time working parents, middle school, high school, sports, parent volunteer hours, tests, finals, overtime at the office, phone calls from the teacher, conferences, forms oh, and more forms. Honestly, I don’t know how single parents do it. I’m exhausted all the time and I welcome the next couple of months with open arms.

Summer is a completely different beast. I don’t have to leave for work until 8 A.M. It’s a great feeling. Then after work I drive straight home, no stops! I enter a calm house and my daughter and I can watch a DVD or sitcom reruns. My son shows me ridiculous clips on YouTube and we all enjoy each other.

I know lots of people push for year round school and maybe that is a better way to learn, but I’ll never support it. As a kid, summer is really the only un-scheduled, down-time in your life. I think your brain should take a break from the constant info cramming. Now that my daughter is in high school she has assigned summer reading, which I think sucks. Now I found out my son has to read a book over the summer too! Don’t misunderstand, I’m a huge bookworm, and that’s why I think summer should be to read what you want.

No one told me to read, “The Outsiders,” “Harriet the Spy,” “Where the Red Fern Grows,” “Of Mice and Men,” and “Island of the Blue Dolphins.” I was able to wonderfully discover these books on my own. I’m a huge supporter of kickin’ back and going with flow.

Summertime should be about discovery and relaxation. Let’s play board games, take walks, watch movies, goof-off and just be. I guest we'll have some requirements, but I’m sure going to try to keep them to a minimum.

Welcome summer! We’re ready for you.

Big Mistake

So the first day of the crazy week and I already want to throw in the towel. Lately, at work, I’ve had all these new little duties. A little here, a little there, all given to me by different people (everyone is my boss), but they don’t realize that all these things add up to my plate overflowing. I can’t get everything done and now that I’ll be on vacation next week, I’m in a real panic mode.

Still, I’m so overwhelmed and grumpy these days that I can’t even push myself to work at a super fast paced. I feel like I’m “dredging”. It’s not all going to get done anyway, so working like a mad women will only make me mad!

I spent the day jumping for one duty to the next until it was time to pick my kids up from school. At first I thought I lucked out. My youngest was the first one out of classroom and he quickly popped into my car from the carpool line. Sometimes he’s not there and I have park amongst all the chaos. Since I do this on my lunch hour, every minute kind of escalates my stress level. I was immediately pleased to have such a great start.

Ah, not so fast. Now picking up the sixteen-year-old was a different story. First she’s telling me to pull into a parking spot that I already passed up. The girl, who has yet to take a driving lesson, cannot accept the fact that I’m not in the right position now for that space and there’s a car coming in behind me, and another car ahead which is now backing out. She has informed me that six spaces up is ridiculously far because she has ALOT of stuff to bring home today. So, I put the car in park and get out…

BIG MISTAKE!

Apparently, I’m not supposed to exit the vehicle at any time. This causes extreme embarrassment for your teenager. Now, I’m offering to help carry all of the excessive items from “locker clean-out day,” but no, I can better serve the teenager by make myself invisible.

I once again have to wonder if this is a product of the suburbs. I was never embarrassed of my parents during my teen years. On the contrary, at my daughter’s age I was The Dateless Wonder, and therefore free most weekends. I have fond memories of going to Sizzler and then a movie with my parents. Later, at 18, I often invited my introverted Mom to come along with me and my friends. My father work swing shift at the time and I felt awful leaving her alone. My friends LOVED my Mom. She wasn’t ultra cool or hip, she was a regular Mom who was loving and available. One of my friends even dubbed her “Amazing Angie” after we saw “Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure.” Pee-Wee Herman referred to one of the characters in the film as “Amazing Larry” and my friend thought it was the perfect nickname for my Mom.

Parents are dorky…duh! Even Barrack Obama’s girls probably think their dad is dorky sometimes, (okay bad example) but you know what I mean. Why can’t parents show their faces? We can dole out cash and drive you from point A to Point B, but we are now like children used to be…seen and not heard. Wow! See, once again if you’re in the big city you’re not been driven around town.  It’s survival from weirdos and the perils of public transportation. If a parent arrived on the scene to help you in any way, you’d be grateful. Hey, I’m old, so maybe it’s a generational thing more than a city/suburb thing.

All I can say is “sorry teenager.” I will appear at random whenever the situation permits. If you make a big deal out of it, chances are, I’ll embarrass you more!

Is It Just Me?

So as a mentioned in my last post, the school year is winding down. Although I’m getting a break from homework patrol, I now have to deal with crazy scheduling. You know what I mean. Next week, Wednesday is a half day. Thursday there’s a 10am dismissal and Friday there’s no school at all! That’s just my son’s schedule. My daughter has finals all next week and she’ll be at 12:30.  

So I ask you…how do I have a full-time job and manage this kind of schedule? My husband and I both have to take vacation time to accommodate these crazy dismissals, but then you have summer to deal with. Remember when summer was relaxing? A few months with no commitments, just sitting around chillin’? When you’re a parent summertime is worse than the school year. All of these so-called day camps always begin at 9 or 10 am and finish at 3 in the afternoon. These are called “All Day Camps.” I don’t know about you, but I start work at 8:30 and work till 5pm Monday through Friday. There’s no way I can come to work late AND leave early.

Honestly, I’ve made it through the worst part. My kids are now sixteen and twelve so they can stay home now. Since the sixteen year old doesn’t drive yet, they still can’t really go anywhere. Public transportation in the suburbs kind of sucks. When I was a teenager in San Francisco, I was hopping the bus all over town. In the burbs, the buses don’t come often and fail to take you close to your destination. Even though I don’t have to take massive amounts of vacation time over the summer, I still feel guilty that my kids aren’t really doing much.

Sometimes I feel like I’m the only mom who has to show up to work everyday with no flexibility. The other working moms seem to be able to manage these crazy schedules. Is it maybe because they’re executives and I’m just a grunt? I picture all of them power walking out of their fancy offices and announcing to their staff, “I’ll be back in a couple of hours!” I know this is highly unrealistic, but sometimes I feel like I’m the only mom who’s never available. 

Next week will be another crazy one. My family will get through it though and then we will hopefully have a great summer ahead. We start off by going on our annual trip to Carmel, California. I’ll be blogging from there and filling you in on the details. I’ll be writing a lot this summer and I hope you will be checking in on me.

Wish me luck!

Last Day of School Crunch

I anticipate the last day of school more than my children. The constant forms to fill out, lunches to make, index cards, binders, projects…it’s enough to drive anyone insane. But then I begin to see it, the last day of school looming closer and closer. It’s almost like being released from jail. Now that my kids are older, (16 & 12) I have so much more free time in summer. Even my full-time job doesn’t seem like it’s all consuming. I can wake up later, the house is nice and quiet and I can leisurely get ready for my day. When I come home in the evening I can unwind for a bit, catch up with the kids, maybe watch a movie. Basically, it feels like the good life. It’s a simple existence, but it’s all I need.

During the school year, my son needs so much help with his homework and remembering to turn in his assignments. I constantly face brain overload trying to remember all his items and keep my own things straight. By May, I usually break down. I stop wearing makeup to the office. The ponytail becomes the daily hairstyle. I need a 20 minute catnap as soon as I get home. Dinner is more often an array of tasty frozen options. I’m in complete survival mode till that last day.

Last summer was the first year that my kids were able to hang out on there own. I didn’t need to sign them up for any organized camps or summer-care programs. My daughter did a drama program and worked her first job doing reception at the drama school. My son stayed with me, my husband, or my mom as we took turns with work vacation time. This may still sound chaotic to you, but for me it was sheer bliss.

Sometimes, I feel like I can’t handle one more day at my office job. Working full-time is very time consuming. My schedule is not flexible and I’m expected to be at my job Monday through Friday from 8:30 to 5pm. I’ve been working full-time since I was seventeen years old and at times I feel like I can’t survive another day. Then last summer, I finally saw that I had so much extra time. I made my daughter watch my favorite 80’s flicks with me. I wrote a lot and I launched a couple of blogs. I didn’t work fewer hours, but I found it was really all the school commitments that were so taxing on me.  

This summer I’m looking forward to finishing the first draft of my book and blogging like crazy! You might all be sick of me in a couple of months! I’m also planning on teaching my kids everything it takes to run our household so that I can truly concentrate on my writing. My expectations are probably too high, but right now this is what’s getting me out of bed every morning. So here I am counting the days till June 4^th. I’m ready to start my ‘summer life.”

Welcome to the Urban Suburban!

What makes me the Urban Suburban? Well for me the definition is feeling like both, yet never feeling like I truly belong to one. Now that I live in "The Burbs," I can no longer claim to be a city dweller, yet everything I know - and the person I've grown it be -, I feel can be defined by growing up in a large urban city.

I came to San Francisco when I was four years old. I attended public school and lived in a "working class" neighborhood. If I had to assign one word to what's it's like to grow up in a large metropolis city, it would be diversity. Over the years, I have friends from so many different ethnicities (some American-born, some immigrants) and I learned at a young age that people are the same everywhere.

There is, of course, a dark side to city life. It is true that you must learn to be street savvy. A couple of decades in the Big City, taught me many useful skills such as when to ignore people to avoid trouble, when to talk to people to avoid trouble and the ever useful, extended breath holding skills for walking through urine or vomit infested alleyways. There's also bus balance, a leg baring technique to shift weight so as not to be sent flying around on public transportation, pissed-off face, a survival technique where the user, not being a particularly menacing person, can at least muster an expression that looks like they have had "it" and just might snap if you harass them. Also, the all important wearing of athletic footwear at all times on city streets. Now I know that all the fashion magazines and ladies from "Sex and the City" will argue that this is a complete image no-no,but take it from someone who was once followed twice in the same week (both times, in broad daylight), you NEED to be ready to jam at a moments notice.

I lived for eighteen years in my beloved "City by the Bay," but once and I was married and wanted to start a family of my own, the toughness of the city suddenly seemed scary. I must tell you that my fears stem from being a petite woman. I'm 4'11 and have a very small frame and, to be honest, it makes me feel more vulnerable to attracting trouble. Countless times I've been subjected to strangers venomous rants because I think they see me coming and think, "Well, what could she possibly do to me?" Maybe this is a chip on my shoulder, but I really feel that when someone has a bug up their butt, they see me and just let it fly.

So when I partnered up with a short guy and we wanted to have some kids, I didn't want to subject them to the urban jungle and neither did my husband. We both grew up in the same San Francisco neighborhood and dreamed of a world like we saw in "Leave It To Beaver" reruns.

I think our move to the East Bay achieved that in many ways. We do have a bucolic setting. Crime is low and my children feel safe. However, over the years I have noticed that I don't seem to fit in here in the suburbs. I've found it difficult to get close to people. I cling to my city ways and friends. I've now lived in the suburbs the same number of years that that I lived in SF, (OMG! Is that really true?)yet, since my formative years where in the city, that's where my allegiance tends to lie.

My blog will focus on my attempts to fit in to my chosen suburban lifestyle and still maintain my city coolness. I'm a writer, a wife and mother. I'm goofy, stressed out, happy, pensive and sometimes just a huge ball of PMS craziness. I have many opinions and few answers. I hope you can find things you relate to, things that make you laugh and most importantly, things that keep you reading!