Wednesday, September 12, 2012

How to use unemployment time

Unemployment - the chance to totally overschedule yourself to prove your self worth and make you wonder how you ever had the time for a job anyway.  I have thrown out/donated 8 (yes 8) large bags of stuff.  And I'm only half way through the house.  Emma would help if she could, but she has tendonitis in her foot and can't walk.  Yet she still does what she can.  Shannon has perfected the scowling/sullen/I'm 13 and totally uncooperative look. But it's probably for the best, because now I don't even need to ask her opinion on anything I toss.

So soon, everyone is invited over to my clean house, cause it won't last!!!

Friday, June 22, 2012

Here we go again

Looks like I will have plenty of time to write. My office is closing July 31. Already got my first rejection. The job would have been so perfect. Right down the street, the hours were so perfect, starting late enough so I could take my kids to early morning events at school and getting off early enough to pick them up from after school activities.

Oh well.

Tuesday, May 8, 2012

No way

There is no way this surly, insolent, rude, demeaning, demanding, selfish 13 year old is the child I gave birth to.

No way.

Nope.

Uh uh.

Thursday, January 19, 2012

Really??

Conversation at work.

Me:  Where do you suppose pimentos come from?

Co-worker: The red things in olives?

Me:  Yeah

Co-worker:  Don't they just grow in the olive?

Me:  No.

Co-worker:  Are you sure?

Me:  Yeah.

Co-worker:  Well, I don't know then.

Wow.  Thank God for Google.  Turns out it's a sweet pepper in case you're wondering.

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

Another lesson learned

So the kids are fighting while we're getting ready for church.  I just can't take it anymore, yell at them and go into my room to get ready.  I shut the a little harder than I need to, but I just can't stand the bickering.  I realize the shirt I want to wear is in the dryer downstairs.  Now I'm really aggravated.  Walk over to the door, turn the handle and pull.  And pull again.  And again.  Begin to shake door violently when I realize I am now trapped in my room.  I yell for the girls, but no one can hear me because Shannon is blow drying her hair. 

I begin to pound on the door until they hear me.  They come to the door, I explain the situation, and apparently they think I am incompetent and cannot open a door because then they try it.  And shocker, it still doesn't open.  I have them go get a butter knife and slide it under the door.  I try to get the knife in I can push back the latch while pulling and the door will pop open.  In theory.  Doesn't work. 

I tell the girls to get the man that lives next door.  Then I grab some clothes cause it suddenly occurs to me that I'm standing there half naked.  The girls come back and tell me he can't help, he's in the shower.  Great.  I'm going have to call 911 to come get me out of my bedroom cause I'm an idiot.  Well, there's no way I'm going to do that.  I do have some pride.

So I stop and think for a minute and figure if it won't work pulling, maybe if I PUSH while trying to wedge the knife in, I'll be able to get it in far enough to pop whatever is stuck loose.  And it actually works!  Turns out it is part of the latch assembly.  The tube that slides into the door, holding the latch, somehow broke free and slide out just a little bit.  None of my doors have striker plates, so it's kind of surprising it's never happened before.

I can tell you one thing.  I'm not closing that door again.

Friday, January 6, 2012

Craziness

So apparently Shannon did get a part in the Wizard of Oz, which is one of the reasons I haven't even remotely thought about posting.  We figured out that on any given day, I cross the river in our town 10-12 times.  Because of course the girls can't have practice at the same time.  No, why make it easy?

The girls actually gave me a shock at Christmas.  One of my friends took them out shopping for me.  I had given them $60.00 figuring that would be enough to get something.  Well, my friend told them she wanted them to give me a Christmas I would always remember.  So she had them think of all the things they tought I would like.  Shannon was so excited because, as she said, Grandma and Uncle Max always get her something they want her to have, not what she really wants.  Then she told her about how I always give my brother a list (at his request) and then he never gives me anything that is on it, which always aggravates me.  Because don't ask me if you don't really want to know.  So they shopped, came back to the office and locked themselves in the lunchroom and wrapped everything.

When we got home, I noticed there seemed to be more packages than they should have been able to buy with the amount of money.  I asked about it and the girls said that I shouldn't be asking questions that close to Christmas (I hate when they use my own words against me!).

Christmas came, and my stocking was also filled with my favorites shocolates.  We started opening presents, with the girls handing me the ones they wanted me to open.  First was the CD I had asked for, then the movie.  The third gift was a hard cover book I wanted.  Mentally totally all this up,   I knew we were already well over the money I had given them, and there were still a few more.  The next package was a movie that I had seen and commented that I would really love to have and the one after that was a box of chocolates that I love but would never buy for myself.  Then there was a cookbook I purchased for someone else and had said that someday I would have to buy that for myself.  I was so very impressed that they had noticed and remembered.

But there was still one rather large package left.  When I opened it, I started to cry.  It was this perfume that I used to wear back when money wasn't really a worry.  It alone cost more than the money I had given them.  And Emma says, "You always look at that when we are out shopping, smile and put it back.  We just really wanted you to have it."  I commented that it was just too much, and the girls just kept saying that my friend wanted me to have a great Christmas, that I deserved a great Christmas.

The next workday, I told my friend what she had done was just far too much, and she said, "it was a pleasure.  I'm just happy to be in a position to do that for you.  You really deserve it."  Then she told me about Shannon's comment about my mom and brother.  She continued "I have to tell you about your girls.  They were so happy and excited and so grateful to be able to do this.  They kept saying, 'you shouldn't do this.  Thank you so much' and when we stopped to buy the candy and I told them to pick something out for themselves, Shannon said 'you don't need to do this' and when I told her it was ok, she smiled and said thank you.  Emma just kept saying thank you and running back and forth, saying she just couldn't decide."

By this time I was bawling and she was tearing up a little as well.  I went home that day and thanked the girls.  When they asked why, I said, "for hearing me when everyone else was deaf and seeing me when  Ithought I was invisible.  You have given me the best Christmas possible, and not because of the gifts.  Because of you.  You really listened when I said gifts should be about the person being given the gifts, not about the person giving the gifts.  And because you are gracious, loving and kind girls".

And Shannon responded, "Oh, so if this is the best Christmas ever, from now on will Christmas suck?"