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I have had very little of interest to say of late. I consider this a good thing. It means I'm too busily immersed in my everyday pursuits to ruminate and pontificate. Still, I do love this little blog of mine and can't help but feel like a deadbeat mom when I neglect it for any amount of time.
I have decided a few things since my last post. The first being that 2011 is going to be my "happy year." After 6 years of trying to build/raise a family, losing a parent, and lovingly supporting a husband who is showing all the classic signs of a midlife crisis, I'm going to...(gasp)...focus on myself for a year. Actually take some time to think about who I am and what makes me happy. Carve out time for my hobbies, try to find a job that means something to me, and set aside time for contemplation and introspection. I deserve it, dammit. And I desperately need it.
Secondly, I'll be using this blog as a dream journal as well as a place for my insipid ramblings. Feel free to skip the dream posts if it's not your cuppa. It's just a tool for me to remember the contents of my wacky dreams until my next therapy appointment. That said, I won't necessarily blog them all. A) That would be a giant bore, and B) Some may involve others who may not wish to have my subconscious impressions of them made public. I'll stick to posting the interesting/funny/odd ones, or the ones that I find especially revealing/analytical/therapeutic.
Case in point: Last night's dream. The bathroom sink was clogged. REALLY clogged. I poured a mixture of vinegar and baking soda down the drain to clear it all out. Within seconds the drain began to expel softball-sized, wet, slimy clumps of my hair. I pulled them out and threw them in the trash. They just kept coming. At one point, I was pulling out this thick rope of goopy hair clog like hankies from a magician's sleeve, hand over hand. I was amazed and gobsmacked. After I pulled the last of the hair out, other objects followed (I don't recall any except a wash cloth). Eventually the last item was removed and the drain was clear. I ran some water and it made a super-satisfying gurgle as it whooshed down the drain. I felt very relieved and at peace.
This dream could mean anything. The kitchen sink was clogged the other day and Tobin was playing in the bathroom sink yesterday. I'm worried about my thinning hair, etc. What it felt like it was saying to me is that I've reached the light at the end of the (disgusting, clogged) tunnel. I've done the work. I've tugged the last of the glop from my psychological drain and everything is in working order again. It feels good. Really good. So good I'm down to 2.5mg of Lexapro a day (was taking 20mg just a few months ago) and on track to wean off in another 3 weeks.
So the pipes are clear. Time to channel something meaningful and positive through them. Thus my 2011 proclamation. Wish me luck, happiness and fulfillment--I'll wish the same for you.
As many of you know, I have a great affinity for all things zombie-related: books, movies, and now the fantastic AMC series The Walking Dead, based on the graphic novels of the same name. It should come as no surprise to me that this obsession has now wormed its maggot-ridden way into my dream life.
Saturday night I dreamt that the zombie apocalypse occurred. The government somehow managed to neutralize the threat by eliminating the zombies' cravings for human flesh. Not clear how this was done--top secret and whatnot. I assumed some chemical agent was released into the atmosphere to do this, as putting down each individual zombie was too gargantuan a task. The result was that we were left with millions of non-threatening zombies roaming around aimlessly, with nothing to do. I turned on the news for the latest update on the situation, and Arizona governor Jan Brewer was holding a press conference to suggest that we deport them. To where, I have no idea. Then I woke up.
I was left with so many questions after this dream:
1. The zombie apocalypse happened and I didn't get to bludgeon even ONE of the motherfuckers? How lame is that? This is my dream life we're talking about--I should be a zombie-eradicating army of one!
2. How did the government have that zombie-neutralizing agent ready to go so fast? What do they know that we don't?
3. Is it legal to deport zombies who are former American citizens? Does citizenship expire at death?
4. I wonder how many jobs could be created to deal with the problem? It could single-handedly revive our failing economy. I'm envisioning a nation-wide network of zombie no-kill shelters where they could live out their days shuffling around in peace until they completely decayed. You know, like a nursing home.
I will continue to ruminate on this dream until the next. Until then, keep your blades and brains sharp. They're your two best weapons.
Despite renting, we're in charge of the lawn maintenance chez Sincoff, so we went to Lowe's today to get some supplies. The "carriage house" in the backyard came equipped with an electric lawnmower, so we needed to get an outdoor extension cord, hedge trimmers, etc.
Kayly will be sad to hear that I decided against ordering the Nut Wizard and opted for a Shop Vac to deal with our acorn problem. I did inquire at Lowe's whether or not they sold the Nut Wizard, however. They had never heard of it and looked at me as though they weren't sure if I was taking the piss or not. I figure the Shop Vac is multi-purpose whereas the Nut Wizard is not.
When Tobin saw the row of riding mowers he went BERSERK. He houdinied himself out of the cart and barely paused to let me put his shoes on before he ran straight for them. I'm not sure if it's just a boy thing or his gentile/country half burbling to the surface, but he went straight for the John Deere. I thought the Husqvarna was way sexier, but what do I know? Now I know where to take him on rainy days.
It's in his genes!!
I took the mower out to the front yard to give it a whirl. It worked just fine for the first 2/3 of the lawn, then promptly stopped working after Ethan took over from me. I'm not saying he did anything wrong--that's just when it happened to crap out. We checked the connection, unplugged it and cleared out the clumpy grass and tried again. The motor runs, but it doesn't cut. I didn't have enough guts to turn it over and see if the blades were spinning. Luckily, I found the user manual online, so I'll consult it to see if there's anything we can do other than just saying "fuggit" and buying a new one.
I did trim the hedges in the front yard and didn't do too bad a job, if I do say so myself. They look very neatly shaped. From a distance. I did not get around to cleaning the gutters, but will do that tomorrow. If I'm feeling really adventurous, I might even take the Shop Vac for a spin and suck some nuts!
Anyone who knows our shih tzu children knows that Lulu is the tough one, but occasionally Fred likes to prove that he's still a man. While taking the little terrors out to pee, we stumbled upon a literal "dumping" ground for the local deer in the corner of our backyard. Piles and piles of deer poop. Freddie immediately began rearing his head and scratching at the dirt.
"The Deerslayer"
He put on a similar display of aggression at the Jersey City Farmer's Market several years back when he encountered some long-necked gourds lined up on the ground. I can only assume he didn't like the way they were looking at him. And once, at a farm in New Hampshire, he even threw down upon coming face to face with a large horse.
My favorite memory of my fancy, prancy boy acting tough also occurred in Jersey City. We were mid-walk when it started to rain hard and fast. He was so incensed that he stopped dead in his tracks and began barking at the sky. Deer, horses, shifty-looking produce, and even G-d are no match for Freddie R. Sincoff. Except for blowing leaves. They scare the bejesus out of him.
After my previous post where I discussed the psychological effects of being let go from my previous company, this came as very welcome news.
I didn't hear about all the nasty/juicy stuff that went on there until after I left. And I won't speak to anything that remains office gossip and unsubstantiated rumor (and there's a lot of it!), but this is a matter of public record now, and it kinda made my day. Call me a schadenfreude junkie, but I love it when folks who think they doodoo don't stank get their comeuppance!! Here's the link to the original article posted below.
Updated: Sat., Sep. 4, 2010, 2:51 AM
Exec's 'free' acce$$
By DAREH GREGORIAN
Last Updated: 2:51 AM, September 4, 2010
Posted: 2:51 AM, September 4, 2010
The multimillionaire former CEO of a health-care consulting firm prescribed himself millions in personal expenses from the company -- making it pay for private jets, his boats, family vacations and even downloads from iTunes, court papers charge.
In a lawsuit filed in Manhattan Supreme Court, Access Communications LLC says Michael Mitrow Jr. raked in $24.7 million in 2007 alone, but that didn't stop him from charging the company he founded for expenses big and small, and "on an extraordinary scale."
"During just the period between May 2007 through June 2009 when Mitrow was forced to resign from Access, he incurred over $1.2 million in personal expenses on his [corporate] American Express card for which there was no legitimate business justification," the suit says.
That included "exorbitant dining expenses," such as a $5,918.38 family Christmas Eve dinner at Zach's Cabin in Beaver Creek, Colo. -- 60 percent tip included. There also were two separate $18,000 family vacations at Westin hotels, charges relating to Mitrow's boats, and $3,971 in furnishings for his condo in Vail.
Mitrow also had a taste for fine luggage -- he spent $4,419 of the company's cash on Luis Vuitton goods at Neiman Marcus, and thousands more on "Prada merchandise," the suit says.
The exec also used company cash for smaller items -- charging Access for Sirius Radio, goods at grocery and liquor stores, and even his video game and iTunes purchases, the suit says.
He also was quite generous with the company's money, and opened sub-credit card accounts for three workers on his boats.
All of the charges, including his repeated use of personal jets, were covered up as legit business expenses, the suit said.
Mitrow's lawyer, Peter Ginsberg, said they'd be challenging Access' claims in court.
Mitrow, he said, "followed the policies and procedures of the company, and his expenses were reviewed and approved by Access officials who remain at the company."
dareh.gregorian@nypost.com
NEW YORK POST is a registered trademark of NYP Holdings, Inc.
nypost.com , nypostonline.com , and newyorkpost.com are trademarks of NYP Holdings, Inc.
Copyright 2010 NYP Holdings, Inc. All rights reserved.
This move ate up the bulk of our savings. I'm sure we can recover with creative budgeting, but I'm really starting to think about going back to work. I was thinking about this just now, and was seized by a simultaneous epiphany/panic attack.
I realized that I'm actually terrified to go back to work after 2 years as a stay at home mom. I've been out of the loop a long time. I'm scared that I won't reassimilate well. I'm scared that the search will take a long time, and that I'll settle for less than I'm worth given the current economy. I loathe the interview process--the feeling of being evaluated and the potential for rejection. Also, I've been my own boss for over 2 years now, and am worried that I'll resent having to report to someone else.
Being let go from my previous position was a huge blow to my self-worth as well. I've never received anything other than a positive performance review, including my previous position. I received a positive review, merit-based raise, and merit-based bonus a mere 2 weeks prior to getting shitcanned w/ no real explanation why I was being terminated. I don't know that I have the emotional strength to deal with all of the above right now. I'm finally starting to feel normal again after 6 years of pregnancy losses and my dad's passing.
At some point, I need to move my bowels and vacate the commode, but the seat's all nice and warm now, and my legs have long since fallen asleep. I'm worried I'll faceplant on the cold, hard, unforgiving tile.
Life would certainly be easier with the additional income, and I have no worries about Tobin adjusting to daycare. That kid is as go-with-the-flow as any person I've ever met. My terror is the only thing stopping me right now. It's time to shoot out some resumes and start searching monster.com on a daily basis.
My one logistical problem is finding someone to watch Toby while I interview, but let's not put the cart before the horse. I'll worry about that when I actually have interviews on the books.
If any readers out there have any advice re: returning to the work force after a considerable hiatus, I would appreciate hearing it. Words of encouragement and job referrals are welcome, too.
We're in! So good to be in the new digs. So much space and storage, I feel like I need to acquire an assload of new stuff just to fill it all, but will resist.
The move was HORRENDOUS! I thought it would never end. Somehow our move from Jersey City to Madison seems so much smoother in hindsight, but we were upgrading from 1 to 2 bedrooms and didn't have a youngun and all his accouterments to pack up as well. I remember thinking the Madison apartment was cavernous when we moved in. By the time we left, it felt much smaller.
We cranked out an enormous amount of boxes last weekend, but still have quite a lot of unpacking and organizing to do until we can entertain lovely guests. Hopefully we'll finish the bulk of it this weekend.
Tobin is loving the house. So much room to run around and so many places to hide Mom and Dad's stuff from them. He loves playing in the backyard, and I love watching him. Our favorite game right now is skipping acorns down the cement steps by the shed. He waves to them and says "Byeeee!" as they bounce into the woods.
Speaking of woods and things that shit in them, there is apparently an overabundance of the No. 1 threat to America in this neighborhood. I have not seen any just yet, but will be on the lookout. I fully expect to crap my pants if and when I do see one. Must read up on what to do if confronted by a bear. I always forget. Do I stay still? Make myself "big?" Smack pots and pans together? I'm gonna go with shouting "HOLY FUCK IT'S A BEAR!!!!" and running into the house as fast as possible.
The neighborhood is absolutely lovely. We've met a handful of our neighbors so far and everyone is very warm and friendly. Meeting and chatting with them has helped the past week fly by with no TV or Internet. The Verizon man finally came today and Tobin was so happy to see him he followed him from room to room handing him random things and even hugged him at one point. I wanted to hug him, too, but contained myself.
Ethan just now called to inform me that Sunday is the Giants' season opener. Implied in that statement was my wifely obligation to entertain the youngster so Daddy can watch it uninterrupted. He graciously offered to watch Tobin for a few hours Saturday so I can have some "Mommy time" to myself, so I can't bitch. No idea what I'll do with it. Maybe just lock myself in the bedroom and watch TV. Or take the computer to Starbucks and work on that cookbook of my grandma's recipes I keep talking about. Or soak in the tub and read a book. So many possibilities.
Today is Ethan's 40th birthday! Happy Birthday, hot stuff! He is impossible to surprise, so I gave him his present yesterday just to get the jump on him. He requested an eReader, and I got him a Nook. He has already called me 3 times today with technical questions. Having flashbacks to the birthday I bought him his iPod. He gets all the bitchin' gadgets, I get all the hassle :).
It's a gorgeous night tonight, so we decided to pop T in the stroller and walk down to the diner. I had no idea what I wanted to eat until we got there. When I saw "reuben," my mouth watered so severely I actually had to swallow. It was greasy and glorious. I got so caught up in the corned-beef bacchanalia of it (yes, you CAN get drunk on Russian dressing) that I completely forgot about the effects of cabbage (in this case sauerkraut) on my digestive system. So far I have escaped unscathed. So, I'm praying the Dude or Dudette in the Big Delicatessen in the sky that it stays that way. I feel like I should light some incense and leave an offering of half-sour dill pickles and liverwurst just to hedge my bets.
As for the moving saga--we've pretty much nailed the house that was our first choice, but they're not open to a month-to-month lease and Ethan had an interview today and has another tomorrow for jobs in other locations. Why are things never simple and easy for us? Just once I'd like something--anything--to be cut and dried. Regardless, we're out of here by 9/30. Will keep you kids posted when I know where we'll actually end up. GAH! Stay tuned. I won't go into detail, but both locales are south of the Mason/Dixon in Rebel territory, so either would be an adventure, I'm sure!
In the meantime, if anyone finds credible, user-friendly instructions for a time machine so we can zip to October 1st and just be done with this ridiculous shit, please let me know. There's a thank you reuben and a big, sloppy smooch in it for you.
Night night.
The Sincoffs found out Saturday that they need to move out as of 9/30/10. I can't say that we *love* our current digs. It's a very cute, sunny apartment, but there's no dishwasher (a mistake we will NEVER make again) and no laundry access (super annoying). We've been talking about moving for yonks, but now we have no choice.
On one hand, this is very exciting! There are a lot of rentals on the market now that have the above mentioned amenities and cost less than what we're currently paying. Having said amenities will GREATLY improve our QoL. On the other hand, I'm having anxiety attacks about the whole thing. We wanted to move, but on our own schedule. Biggest anxiety inducers:
- Being forced to settle for something we don't really like because we have a deadline
- Making 1000+ phone calls and looking at countless apartments before we find the right thing
- Cleaning. This is the bane of my existence as I have discussed at length in previous posts
- Hunting down moving boxes
- Packing. HATE IT!!!! Hate it, hate it, HATE IT!!!
- Leaving the only home Tobin's ever known (Sad for me, but he probably won't care. He's always down for a new adventure and adapts to new situations better than any toddler ever should)
- Being forced to sign a 1-year lease when we're hoping to relocate somewhere with a lower cost of living ASAP so we can buy a house sometime before we retire
- Moving, only to have to move again in a short period of time if Ethan gets a job offer elsewhere
I've already sussed the boxes issue. Several friends have offered their recently-unpacked boxes and I've made contact with someone via freecycle who has up to 100 boxes they can give us. And just now, I knocked 3 more off the list by calling a local realtor and giving her all our specifications. No calls for us to make, she'll weed out anything that doesn't meet our preferences, and she's aware that we prefer a month-to-month lease if possible. I'm starting to breathe again.
As for that last one, we're taking a "scorched earth" approach to packing and throwing out everything that isn't vital. And anything we decide to keep that's not for immediate use in the new apartment will remain packed and ready to go at a moment's notice, should we need to move again. Non-essential boxes will likely be put in a storage facility so we can actually use our closets for clothes and such. So novel!
So all that's left on my Freakout List are cleaning, packing, and leaving our first home as a family. All 3 are unavoidable and cannot be outsourced. Well, maybe the cleaning can be outsourced. Depends how much the movers will cost us. We're spoiled from our last move. We will decidedly NOT be humping our own furniture and boxes up and down the stairs--not with our chronic lower back issues.
Another positive point: as much as I detest packing, I LOVE unpacking and settling into a new place. Looking forward to that bit once we get through all the other icky stuff.
Should hear back from the realtor tonight with a list of possibilities. Wish us luck that we find something awesome or at least highly tolerable!
If you would like to volunteer your cleaning, packing, or babysitting talents, feel free! We will love you forever and/or pay you in pizza and the hooch of your choosing.
Several posts ago I announced that I had begun a mission to organize the apartment and promised to blog about my progress frequently. This time I really thought publicizing my intentions would affect my adherence, but alas...
We were doing an excellent job and seeing real progress until:
- I got slammed by multiple migraines right before--
- We went to Florida for a week
- I came back ludicrously exhausted and then--
- I came down with some sort of mild illness/infection that has rendered me only somewhat functional for the last 6 days
In accordance with my star sign, I have a charming tendency to jump head-first into new endeavors only to become bored and abandon them before you can say "impulsive." However, we've seen the light at the end of the clutter-strewn tunnel. We almost had the apartment at a level of cleanliness that we both agreed was sufficient; and we did the bulk of the work over two weekends. At least we know we can do it again and this time we won't have to leave town before it's done.
We had a lovely visit in Florida with my father-in-law. He clearly thought Tobin was an adorable, exhausting riot. The little man charmed the socks off his Great Aunt Cynthia, too. Big, huge, ginormous thanks to my mom for watching the cats and diligently administering Zelda's countless meds according to schedule. And thanks to Mary for puppy sitting. You both saved us an ungodly amount of money and we love you dearly for it!
My most important takeaway lesson from this trip--and I shall share it for the benefit of moms who have not yet traveled with their toddler(s)--is this: NEVER, EVER BOOK A NON-DIRECT FLIGHT UNLESS IT IS ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY!!!!!!!! By "necessary," I mean *really* necessary--like, you're on the lam and have to flee ASAP to a country with no extradition agreement w/ the US. Family weddings, funerals, bar mitzvahs...can all be missed using the patented "sick baby/toddler" excuse.
Here's why: No matter how well your little snookums does on the first leg of the trip when he or she is all rested and excited about the BIG AIRPLANE! VROOM!!, it gets old by the second leg when they realize they have to sit still for another hour or two or (G-d forbid!) more. Nothing infuriates a toddler like being told he can't run up and down the aisles saying "Hi-yee!!" and "Bye-yee!!" to his fellow passengers. Toys will be thrown over the seat back in front of him. Trays will be pounded. Sippy cups lobbed at your face. If you're lucky, the lovely young girl across the aisle will take pity on you and allow your flirtatious, lady-killer son to shake her hand, blow her kisses and hand her stickers for the entire duration of the flight. If you're not lucky, you will grit your teeth and bear it and just keep telling yourself that the plane will eventually land and this will all be over--until the return trip.
It wasn't the most horrible thing I've ever experienced, but good grief was it close. The only reason we took connecting flights was because Ethan won free tickets at his holiday party and there were no direct flights that weren't miserably early or late. We will never make this mistake again. The tickets saved us approximately $700, but at what cost?
Thankfully, we're home now. Tobin is making huge strides in his language and comprehension and it's fantastic to watch. He's picking up 1 or 2 new words a day, starting to put two-word sentences together, pointing to everything in sight wanting to know what things are called, following two-step commands (pick X up and take it to Daddy in the kitchen)...I had set aside a t-shirt, shorts and shoes for him to wear to the playground last night. I said "Let's get you dressed to go to the playground with Daddy" and he immediately walked over to the little pile and brought me his shorts and shirt.
He is IN LOVE with doing chores now. He loves taking dirty dishes out to the kitchen so Mom or Dad can put them in the sink and he has appointed himself Official Dog Biscuit Distributor. He does not understand that Lulu and Fred need to finish their first biscuit before he attempts to jam the second biscuit down their throats, but we're working on that. Yet another light at the end of another tunnel--I'm sure I'll have him putting his toys away in no time. Just so long as he cleans up some of the shrapnel he sprays all over the living room and nursery floor in a day. Mama's back can only take so much bending. I'm thinking of getting one of those grabber-on-a-stick thingies that the old folks on scooters and Hoverounds® use to get stuff off the shelves at Wal-Mart.
Not much else to report. Taking it easy for August. Limiting travel, spending quiet weekends with the boys, nothing earth-shattering. Maybe we'll finally get around to hiring that babysitter we're always talking about. Maybe we'll drive down the shore for a day at the beach. Maybe we'll just sit around in our jammies and watch DVRed episodes of Degrassi and Criminal Minds. Smart money is on that last one.
It's Wednesday and to answer the question from your comment on my previous post, Kayly, no I have not been keeping up with the dishes :). I'm terrible. However, I have had a noticeable mood and energy burst that came over me this weekend and has not yet abated, so I fully intend to milk it for all it's worth.
Also, I have come to the realization that nothing makes me clean like the impending arrival of company, so we're having folks over for brunch Saturday. This means I have today, tomorrow and Friday to get the place looking at least halfway decent so I can concentrate on cooking/baking/mixing a giant pitcher of bloody marys Saturday morning.
Thank you for checking in and kicking my butt, though. I'm off to do dishes shortly. I plan on us actually brunching at the kitchen table with a table cloth and place mats and maybe even some flowers, fer cryin' out loud.
It's just a matter of sucking it up and powering through the next few days. The nicest bit is that the apartment will be clean for the weekend so we can relax and just do fun stuff--especially since Sunday is Father's Day.
Which brings me to another reason I love my husband. All he wants for Father's Day is for me to grill him a delicious, juicy steak and some corn on the cob, an hour or two of peace and quiet to read his book, and then for the 3 of us to toddle downtown for some ice cream at the ice cream parlour. Sounds like a perfect, glorious, low-maintenance day. My very favorite kind.
I am bangin' shit OUT today! Kid is fed, changed and playing happily. Coffee is consumed. Paused from tidying the living room to make some calls and have accomplished the following:
- Conned our dear friend Mary into watching Fred and Lulu while we're in Florida, bless her heart!!!!
- Scheduled grooming appointments for Fred & Lulu so they won't be all funky while Mary is watching them
- Scheduled Zelda's vet appointment to have blood drawn for her ongoing thyroid and liver problems
This somewhat makes up for the utter lack of housecleaning I did all weekend long. Back to tidying the living room. Ethan's coming home for lunch. Very nice surprise!
Once I've finished in the living room, I'm going to tidy in the bedroom. The bed is crying out for clean, fresh sheets and there's laundry to be put away.
Just remembered that this Sunday is Father's Day. Will have to plan a smashing dinner to cook for Ethan and sniff around for hints re: a gift. He is a fantastic father as I knew he would be, and deserves to be celebrated as such.
Anyhoo, this week is off to a productive start. Let's see if I can keep up the momentum.
Okay, so I did nada yesterday. Couldn't help it. The weather was ick, as it is again today. However, I fully intend to clean the bathroom today just so I can say I accomplished something. It's chilly and damp and I just want to don my Snuggie™ and read my book, but The Boy will not allow this. He is playing and singing and refusing to nap AGAIN.
I took him to the YMCA yesterday to play in the indoor playground again. He adores it. Afterward, we came home, had some lunch, and took naps. HEAVEN.
Last night we were all in the living room eating dinner and watching Jeopardy! as is our custom. One of the answers was "This Chairman's Little Red Book..." When the contestant responded "Who is Mao?" Tobin yelled "MAO!!!" excitedly and pointed to his mouth. Hilarity ensued.
Later on he was playing with his toy train. I asked him if he could say train. Blank stare. I tried a different approach--"Can you say choochoo??" He looked at me with a cocked eyebrow as if to say, "Say that one more time for me," and studied my mouth while I said "choochoo" again. He very carefully pursed his lips to mimic mine and said, "Jew Jew." Naturally we cracked up at that, so he puckered up and said "JEW JEW!!!" about 20 more times.
Ethan has taken over the bath time ritual, which is awesome. They have far too much fun together. Last night between all the laughing and splashing, I overheard Ethan teaching Tobin how to scat. Skills to pay the bills, y'all.
So I'm not beating myself up for not having accomplished as much as I set out to this week. I always bite off more than I can chew. This time I'm choosing to spit out the excess rather than choke on it. My aim is to strike a healthy balance between household drudgery and goofing around. The scales are still tipped toward the latter at this point, but hopefully not for long.
Second day of my seize-the-world-by-the-balls-and-get-my-shit-straight campaign. I claimed on my Facebook status this morning that I was going to "make Tuesday my bitch and ride it so hard it'll wonder why Wednesday's called Hump Day." At least I had the right attitude.
I can't say I made Tuesday my bitch, but I did smack him around a little. Washed a buttload of dishes. Still some to go. I know--it sounds like my kitchen must be floor-to-ceiling pots and pans. Not entirely the case, I just had a very sassy toddler who refused to take a nap until somewhere around 3:30 pm today. By the time he finally capitulated, I was so exhausted myself that I had to take a nap as well. Daddy now has him at the playground to give Mommy some peace and quiet. I love my husband.
The good news is that I washed all the dishes that had been littering the cook top of my stove, so I can actually make dinner tonight! We had been dining out quite a bit the last few days because I just couldn't deal. Now I can. Woot woot!
Sorry this report is late. We wound up going to dinner and then meeting friends for ice cream. Was too tired to post after that.
I am tentatively calling Day One a success. I didn't get as much accomplished as I thought I might, but I also didn't sleep well the night before and was dragging ass all day long. This morning is another story--I woke up feeling semi-rested and mostly human for a change.
What I got done yesterday:
- Collected three 13 gallon garbage bags of trash and non-recyclable clutter from the kitchen (That sounds grosser than it is. This includes crap in the pantry I will never use, old stuff from the fridge, stale cereal boxes, etc).
- Put recyclable items in appropriate receptacles
- Cleared out and plunged kitchen sinks (Our sink backs up CONSTANTLY. Super fucking annoying), then bleached and scrubbed them.
- Did two loads of dishes
- Read book and napped until Ethan got home :)
What can I say? I started out the day exhausted. The plan for today is to finish up the kitchen (at least finish the dishes and washing the surfaces--Ethan usually does the floors). Wednesday will be the bathroom and nursery, Thursday the living room, Friday the bedroom.
I think it will take at least 2 weeks for the place to really be where I'd like to keep and maintain it. Keep in mind, I do have an active toddler who requires my attention and outings to the playground on sunny days (like today...sigh).
All in all, not a bad start. Certainly more than I normally accomplish on a given day. Today will hopefully be more of the same. I'll report back later!
I think I've finally reached the point in my life (and therapy) where I'm finally ready to face all the bs I've been conveniently ignoring for years and JUST FUCKING DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT.
Although I am sure I will live to regret this, I have decided to set about the task of ridding my mind and my life of my emotional clutter by banishing the real, tangible clutter clogging every available surface of my house. Granted, my apartment is not worthy of a "Hoarders" episode--yet--but I am determined to get things (and therefore ME) under control before a team of psychiatrists, professional organizers, and refuse removal men are required to dig me out from under hundreds of pounds of soiled adult diapers and mummified cats.
That is not the part I fear I will live to regret. This is: I am going to blog about it. I will openly and honestly report my progress on a daily basis--even if it's just 1 or 2 paragraphs about what I threw out or scrubbed or freecycled that day. After I've been at it a few days, I may even include pictures of my progress. I'm hoping that my commitment to blogging this experiment will force me to stick to my guns, so I'm counting on my beloved reader(s) to hold me accountable and kick my ass as necessary. Words of encouragement are also welcome, but as the saying goes, "You catch more flies with honey than vinegar, but a dead squirrel works best." Please feel free to not just flame me, but to RAKE ME OVER THE FUCKING COALS if I slack. I'm 36 goddamned years old. Enough is enough.
As my regular reader(s) know(s), I have been suffering from depression off and on for the last 6 years due to 3 pregnancy losses and the prolonged illness and recent death of my father. I'm done. It's enough now. I know I can't just decide to be done being depressed, but I can decide to stop letting it keep me from doing what needs to be done--for my sake, my husband's, and--most importantly--my son's. And once my emotional/spiritual house and physical apartment are in order, I'll shift focus to my emotional eating hobgoblin, though I'm hoping he'll get kicked to the curb as I'm cleaning house.
Tomorrow is Day One. Report to follow tomorrow evening after therapy, dinner, and Jeopardy! Interested to see what the shrink thinks of this plan. I'm sure he'll support it.
Full disclosure: I am currently having a mild anxiety attack that is keeping me from hitting "publish" on this. Deep breaths...OK. Here we go.
Yes, I know it's been a while since I checked in. Life hasn't been terribly interesting lately. Ethan's taking a little break from his job search while I get used to the idea of possibly going back to work in the near future. I got an unexpected call from a recruiter earlier this week that made me think it might be time for me to get back to the grind. Whether that particular call amounts to anything or not, we shall see. It has prompted me to keep my ear to the ground for other opportunities as well. If I were to nail down this position at the high end of the salary range they're offering, the increase from my previous salary would totally offset the cost of childcare. I couldn't afford not to take it!!
However, it looks as though unemployment will be extended through the end of this year, so even if I don't land the perfect job immediately, I'll still have that cushion. I feel very good about putting Tobin in daycare from this point on. He's extremely confident and social and happy. Not once has he pitched a fit when we've left him with someone for a few hours or even overnight. I think he'd settle into the daycare routine very quickly and really appreciate the daily interaction with other kids. Weather permitting, I try to get him to the playground at least 3 times a week so he can be around other kids his age. If it rains, we go to the indoor playground at our local YMCA. He's just reaching the age where he wants to really interact with the other children rather than just observe them.
Speaking of "interacting," this past Saturday we were at the playground with friends when he approached a pretty little girl a few months younger than himself (he usually prefers the older ladies) and gently touched her face. I said, "Be gentle! Why don't you give her a hug?" Instead he leaned in slowly, looked deep into her big brown eyes with his smouldering baby blues and gave her a kiss. Everyone who witnessed this let out an "Awwwwwwwwww!!!" in unison. He pulled back to judge her reaction, which was a look of complete and utter terror. Undeterred, he gave her a second kiss. This time she burst into tears. Still not getting the message, he leaned in for #3 when I finally pulled him away and redirected him toward another part of the playground. I blame the two toddler hussies at the play area at the mall who planted smooches on him right around his 1st birthday. Ever since then he's been trying to kiss every girl he can get his hands on. He doesn't bother trying to hug or kiss other little boys. He only has eyes for the ladies.
On top of being a total mack daddy, he's a daredevil to boot. I have no idea where he gets his excellent coordination or lack of fear of heights, but it ain't from Mom and Dad. Today he climbed to the highest point on the jungle gym for 5- to 12-year-olds (did I mention he's a mere 17 mos?)and went down the spiral slide all by himself. I clapped and hooted and hollered, I was so proud. He hopped off the slide and looked at me like, "Bitch, please! I do this in my sleep..." The only thing he hasn't conquered at that playground in the rock climbing wall. His limbs simply aren't long enough yet. I'm thinking he'll have it mastered by the end of the summer.
In other news, we're headed to Florida for 8 days in July to visit Ethan's Dad. Two of those days will be taken up by travel. Ethan won free airline tickets at his holiday party, but the only available non-stop flights were very late at night or very early in the morning, so we opted for connecting flights. It'll be a pain in the ass, but we're saving almost $700, so I'm not bitchin'. Will be nice to log some beach and pool time. I'm hoping we spend our share of Saturdays "down the shore" here in Jersey, too.
Other than that, no big plans. It's all up in the air. Could be working, could still be an SAHM. Time will tell. As long as it includes quality time with my two favorite boys and many mojitos, it will be a fantastic summer.
So far, April seems to be the month of accomplishing all those tasks we've been putting off indefinitely. Ethan got up early this morning and took the older Corolla to the body shop to get an estimate for replacing both bumpers (I put a softball-sized dent in the front one, Ethan ripped off half the back bumper in a disagreement with a stubborn shrub). The estimate was about half as much as I was expecting, so that's a relief. We drop it off next Monday and should get it back Wednesday, so I'll only be without wheels for 2 days.
This week I need to renew my license (expired as of 1/31) and then, once the car is fixed, take it for inspection (it's only 1 1/2 mos overdue :)). Still, that's 3 big items off our "to do" list. If we're not careful, we might just turn into--EEK!!--responsible adults! (shudder).
I have also started making a daily "to do" list to inspire me to get more things done around the house. As I knew I would, I put more items on it than I can reasonably expect to accomplish with an active toddler underfoot. Way to set myself up for failure and disappointment right off the bat! I think I'll hone it down to 3 things a day to start--then when I'm knocking those off with ease add a fourth item, etc., etc.
In Tobin news, he's starting to "parrot." He repeated the words "blue," "yellow," and "I love you" in the past 2 days. As mentioned in my Facebook status update, the "I love you" sounded more like "eye yoyo," but he was repeating after me--and he said it twice, so I know that's what he was trying to say. Thus ends the era of free-reign cursing in our household. Good god do I love to swear, but if it means not having to apologize at some point in the near future when Tobin calls the lady in front of us in the checkout line a "stupid c*nt," it's worth the sacrifice. Maybe when he's closer to 12 we can reinstate full freedom of speech. By then he'll have learned all the four-letter words Mommy and Daddy know and then some. Until such time, I will have to bottle up my cursing and let it out in little bursts when Tobin and I aren't in the same building/zip code.
Other than that, looking forward to my upcoming Girls' Night Out with my BFF, Kayly, and some other lovely ladies. Poor, poor Harrisburg won't know what hit it. You know in the cartoons where someone gets punched so hard they have a circle of little birdies flying around their head to illustrate their severe disorientation? That's what Harrisburg can expect to feel like when we're done with it. And throw in a crotch punch or three. We don't fuck around. Oops. Good thing Tobin's still illiterate.
A 13-year-old boy is attempting to become the youngest person ever to summit Mt. Everest. I'm fascinated with Mt. Everest and those who dare to climb it. One of my favorite books is Jon Krakauer's Into Thin Air, his first-person account of the 1996 Everest Disaster. And I've made the poor hubby sit through at least two seasons of The Discovery Channel's Everest: Beyond The Limit. Let me hasten to say that I'm not a mountain climber--I'm barely a stair climber--but Everest has always seemed mystical and magical to me and I completely understand its allure to those far braver than myself. Whether a matter of motivation or self-preservation, I am quite content to read about and watch them rather than join them.
However, as a newly-minted mom, I can't help but question the motives of this boy's parents. Are they truly encouraging this summit attempt (and his entire mountaineering career--he's already climbed many of the world's tallest peaks) out of love and support rather than the opportunty to bask in his reflected glory? Is it worth the risk? Everest is a bitch. And mountaineers more accomplished and experienced than this young man have met their ends there. As a parent, I can't imagine that I would be willing to take that risk with my child's life, no matter how keen he was to do it.
My follow-up questions are:
- How is summiting Mt. Everest not enough of an accomplishment? Why the need to be the youngest?
- What's left for him after he conquers Mt. Everest and the peak in Antarctica? Isn't his career essentially over at 13, then? I suppose he could attempt to climb again without oxygen, as some folks do, if Everest doesn't get him the first time.
Anyhoo, best of luck to him. I hope for his parents' sakes that he's successful and makes it through unharmed. I have no idea how they'll live with themselves for the rest of their lives if he doesn't.
What happened to March going out like a lamb? Now that the rain and flooding seems to be on the wane, I'm really looking forward to Spring. Bye-bye, March. Don't let the door hit ya. The forecast looks amazing through the weekend. Looking forward to much outdoors time with the family members two- and four-legged.
I'm about to get Mr. T and myself dressed so we can go to the playground where he will undoubtedly run me ragged, after which we will come home, have a snack and pass out for a few hours. This is absolutely my favorite part of the job. I get to watch him have gobs of fun, get some exercise chasing him around, and get to pat myself on the back for being a "good mom" for making sure my kid gets plenty of fresh air and physical activity. So much better than deadlines and status meetings. And instead of yearly performance reviews, I get daily reviews (kisses, tantrums, "yummy" noises) to let me know where I excel and where there's "room for growth." I do miss raises and bonuses, however.
We have a meeting with the rabbi at B'Nai Or tomorrow morning to go over details for Tobin's naming ceremony on the 9th (it's a joint ceremony for kids who haven't yet received their Hebrew names). When I converted, I accepted that any sons Ethan and I had would have to be circumcised, but I'll be damned if I was going to watch. Luckily Ethan felt the same, so we let the doctors do the deed with the agreement that we would have a naming ceremony for him later on.
Tobin is named after his Great Uncle Teddy (real name Tobias), so we called Great Aunt Cynthia to see if she recalled Teddy's Hebrew name. She did--it's Tevye. Makes perfect sense, since Tobias (and Tobin) and Tevye mean the same thing: "God is Good." We dig it and we're going with it, but I've had "If I Were a Rich Man" stuck in my head ever since.
The rest of the weekend is wide open for Spring frolicking and gallivanting. White light and Vitamin D, how I've missed you!!!!
