Dreams

I've been having a lot of dreams lately.  Court dreams, lawyer dreams, and an occasional sister dream mixed in.  Last night I had a dream that we were at our 2nd day of trial.  The judge had been replaced by a TV personality judge who knew nothing about the case, refused to really listen to any background about the case, and kept making snarky comments as if she knew about what was going on and was teaching me a life lesson. It was bizarre.  And then the regular judge walked in wearing jeans and some sort of rugged, outdoor shirt on, like he'd just gotten done with an LL Bean photo shoot, and called an end to the whole thing.  Like...we were done, but we weren't really done.  My lawyer, the other lawyer, and everyone in the court room just kind of stared at the judge, waiting for a verdict, or a declaration of what was going to happen next or SOMETHING, but nothing.  We all stood there, staring at each other. 

Cut to the sister dream.  You know...the sister dream where one of your sisters suddenly hates you for no reason.  And in your dream, you had just done something really nice for them, but they hadn't gotten it yet, or noticed it yet, or whatever, and the "truth" comes out that they actually hate you.  So you feel badly about that, and you feel angry that you had done that nice thing, but it's too late to undo the nice thing, and then the sister really does notice it, but she still hates you anyway.  I don't like those dreams.  But I can't stop myself from having them. 

Maybe I should do something nice for one of my sisters in real life, just in case.  Maybe it's too late.

Good Riddance

Some of you may have noticed that we still haven't sent out Christmas cards or letters this year.  We may not. Certainly, we are in good health and overall, we've had a year, but man, I for one am glad that this one is almost over.  January started out with a bang when we took Bubba to the emergency room on January 1st.  At his follow up appointment with the pediatrician later that week, he was admitted to the hospital for a few days.  They stuck an IV into his head, and he had to wear a rubber cap over it to protect the IV site.  He also wore socks on his hands for a while to control his constant tugging on the IV line.  Yuck.  It was a sad and scary time, and even though he had a fever, he was cold because of all the fluids he was getting.

That was followed by us pulling Bubba (he says "bubba" now, by the way) out of daycare and a difficult search for a nanny.  It seemed as if the year really never got much better, and if you're reading this, you have at least a passing familiarity with the saga that we're currently embroiled in.  Sure, it won't actually conclude in 2010 (thanks to a certain attorney who will remain annonymous), but I'm counting on that ending in early 2011.  In fact, I'm beginning to wonder if our troubles were at all associated with the year of the Tiger (Chinese horoscope), and I'm hoping that the Rabbit will be kinder to our family. 

Maybe I'm being too harsh on 2010.  We did have a spectacular hike on the Inca Trail to Machu Picchu and a wonderful time in Peru (followed by an OK time in Ecuador).  Scooter learned to climb trees and ride bikes.  We spent a really fun weekend with my sisters and their families in Saint Louis.  I got a new job that's really fantastic and fun and challenging (which I may have to leave, depending on the outcome of our current situation).  There I go again, Debbie Downer.  Wah-wah-wah-wah....

Is it the Wide World of Sports or the Wild World of Sports?

Either way, I suppose.

Scooter's still here.  Bubba's still here.  Ben's still here.  I'm at work.  Last day before the holidays.  Ben and I both worked from home on Tuesday and Wednesday (working from home is nice).  Ben kind of has to, since that's what he does, but I have a pretty flexible schedule and boss.  We kept Bubba home from daycare, which made working from home a little more difficult, but it also gave the kids some time to hang out together.  Yesterday on my lunch break, I took the kids down to the wetlands park to feed the ducks.  It was a blast.  After we ran out of bread, Bubba took off running into the neighborhood up there (where we've looked at houses).  I assumed he was planning on doing some door-knocking for bread.  After work, we went swimming in the pool at the apartment complex.  The water was warm, but the room was not.  I wonder if something was broken?  It didn't seem that cold the last time Bubba and I went...

I got a pair of rain boots for Christmas.  I realized I needed them about a month and a half ago when it started raining here.  And everyday (it seems) since then, I've thought about them on my walk to and from work.  I wore them today.  It was a little weird, as there was no rain.  It was in the 40s, no wind, etc.  It was actually a very beautiful walk into work.  So beautiful, in fact, that the puddles that I've been dodging for almost 2 months were dried up.  There was not one reason for me to be wearing rain boots this morning, but I didn't care.  They are awesome.

Ben has the day off, so he and the kids are planning on going to the children's museum and then meeting me for lunch.  I bet they have fun.  Bubba has been there before, so I'm sure he'll show them all the good stuff (ie, the digger room and then the ambulance.  they'll spend 3 hours in those 2 places...)  I hope Scooter doesn't get bored with the "baby" stuff...

I'm finally figuring some stuff out at work, and after today, I'm off for Christmas.  We're in for a busy few days until Scooter has to go back to Omaha. I'm kind of secretly hoping for a freak snow storm that'll close the airport for a few more weeks...

OMSI

Scooter and Ben made a short video while we were at OMSI.  There was a station where you could make a stop-motion video with shapes (very few).  In their video, the large green shape (a school bus?) is eating the smaller shapes.  And then Scooter has a short silent movie meets Peter Gabriel moment.  They didn't have a lot of time, but I'm so proud of my artistic daughter and husband!  Check it out! 

Bubba also had a fun time turning a steering wheel which would spin a fan above the little children's area...

And in true Scooter fashion, she wanted to stick her head through the astronaut to have her photo taken...

It was a fun day at the museum.

And then there were 4

Scooter flew into town yesterday with Ben's parents.  They were so kind and flexible to help us book flights at such a short notice and accompany Scooter out here for her visit.  They were planning on driving, but with the winter weather in the Cascades (and because I'm pushy and wanted to spend as much time as possible with Scooter) decided to fly out with her instead.  Come to think of it, it's mostly because I'm pushy.  But if there's one thing that the past few months have taught me, it's to ask for what you want.  Otherwise, you get eggs and cooked spinach.

Scooter et. al. flew in at about 10:30.  On our drive to the airport, we spotted Mt. St.Helens and Mt. Hood.  It was a clear, beautiful day.  By the time bags were retrieved and suitcases un-consolidated, it was about 11:30.  We whizzed Scooter off into the big city.  First stop was supposed to be Voodoo Doughnut (a Portland establishment).  The line went to the corner of Ankeny and 3rd Ave, and after waiting a good 10-15 minutes, hadn't moved.  So we decided to set our sites on lunch instead.  We ducked into what looked like a dive bar.  The website is much, MUCH fancier than what it really is (Here).  But the food was divine.  I had what could arguably be the best seafood chowder out there.  It was the smoked salmon chowder.  It was a pretty pink color, which was a little off-putting, but oh.  It was SO GOOD.  After lunch, the line at Voodoo was even longer.  We hopped on the train then trolley to head up to the aerial tram.  It was closed.

We hopped back on the trolley to go to our car, where we drove to OMSI (Here), which is the Oregon Museum of Science and Industry.  It is huge, and interesting, and even though we spent a few hours there, we didn't see everything.  Scooter was tired, we were tired, and Bubba was falling-down tired.  We had to go home.  It snowed on our way home!  We ate out of the back of a taco truck for dinner, and pretty much settled in for the evening. 

I'm so-so-so excited to have Scooter out here.  It's nice to finally have everyone here, and I swear, Bubba has 10 new words since his sister got here yesterday.  This week will be exciting, and will probably go by too fast.

Full speed ahead!

It's been sunny in Portland since I got back into town on Tuesday.  It's supposed to start raining tonight and continue raining until the forecast runs out, but it was nice to have almost a week of sun.  My coworkers refer to these days as a "sun break."  I quite like them.  High 40s, low 50s, sunny, brisk.  It sure beats the blizzard we went through in Omaha last Saturday.  And it helps gear up for 10 solid days of rain. 

We're finalizing plans for Scooter to come out this weekend.  She'll be here Sunday (the 19th), and she'll stay until the following Monday, the 27th.  I can't wait!  She's never been out here, so now is her chance to kind of explore a little.  It's too bad it'll be raining the whole time, but I'm sure OMSI, the Children's Museum and a quick trip up to Seatle will keep us dry. 

I missed my train this morning.  Actually, there are 2 that I usually take.  If I miss the first one, I can usually catch the next one 4 minutes later.  I missed that one, too.  And maybe even the next one.  Luckily, they just keep coming in the mornings.  While I waited, I found 2 pennies.  I was hoping for a lucky 3, but I'll be content with 2.  That means I've been here 96 days (counting all the days I've been back in Omaha and in Wisconsin), and I'm up to $1.04.  I'm starting to doubt whether I can keep this up for as long as I'll live here.  It'd be great to be up to 1000 pennies 3 years from now, but I really don't think Portland can sustain this type of generosity.  Afterall, the unemployment rate here is one of the highest in the nation...

One more piece

Ben flew out here yesterday.  We tossed around the idea of him taking the train back to the apartment, but decided against it.  He was flying in 20 minutes before the last train of the night, and he had a checked bag.  After a 4+ hour lay over in Las Vegas, he called because his flight was delayed by almost an hour.  I fell asleep.  When I awoke, I had mere moments to get out of the house to go pick him up.  I took the world's fastest shower, grabbed the boy, and took off into the night.

Ben called while I was driving.  No worries, I was almost across the bridge.  And that's when tragedy struck.  Not really.  Nobody died or anything, but while I was on the phone with Ben, I took the wrong turn on the 405 bridge.  You need to understand this behemoth in order to really grasp what I did.  You see it's 2 layers, the top carries westbound 30 and southbound 405 traffic, the bottom carries the opposite.  Ok, not a big deal.  Except there are 4 off-shoots that you can take in either direction.  I-5, I-405, OR-30, etc.  It gets confusing.  The fastest way to the airport is I-5 to Lombard, which is also OR-30 bypass.  So....I took the OR-30 exit from the bridge.  WRONG.  I know.  But just look at the NE end of the bridge.  It's a big ol' mess!


View Larger Map


I ended up turning a 25-30 minute drive into a 50 minute drive.  I was tired and out of it and lost in Portland.  On a happy note, I was able to drive by OMSI.  So...I could potentially get back there on my own again (if I'm 1/2 asleep and get kind of lost).  Poor Ben was exhausted but such a good sport.  The way home was not as eventful (save for me forgetting where the entrance to the interstate was).  We got home late, and I went from sharing a bed with 30 pounds of man to 230 pounds of man.  So happy to have Ben here, but it makes it painfully obvious that we're still missing a piece...

Criminals have a right to a speedy trial; mothers do not

My mom referred to my blog today as an epistle.  It made me smile.  Even if one of the technical definitions of espistle is a communication to a person or specific audience, generally, terms like that are biblical in nature.  At the very least, I would use it in reference to a somewhat poetic letter.  My blogs are just kind of my way of a brain dump/stress unloader.  I would liken it to a cement truck.  I just dump out whatever's churning around in there, and once it's out here, it kind of solidifies into a concrete mass.  I'm aiming to make a pretty street or sidewalk, but often times, it's just this hardened lump, blocking your path. 

Anyway, I'm getting over my disappointment/despair/shock/etc of Monday.  Don't get me wrong, I'm still randomly crying throughout the day for no reason.  But over all, I feel better about things.  It could have been worse.  Our Feb 7th trial date, which should have been taken off the docket, and therefore filled up again with other stuff, was still listed for us.  You see, if they had taken our trial off the docket for that date, a bunch of criminals would have taken the date because criminals have a right to a speedy trial.  Families have no such right.  We just have luck, I guess.  So anyway, with my mom's biblical booster in mind, I'll think about this today:

"Love is patient.  Love is kind.  Love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant"  --1 Corinthians 13:4

"Mother is love" --Precious Moments writers

worst possible outcome

I may not be a crazy-planner type of person, but I do like to know what's going on in my own life.  Yesterday, I was a "star" witness in a trial.  I kept saying to myself that it was just like a job interview.  Except the stakes were much, much higher.  I'm not sure it really helped with the nerves.  The trial was scheduled for a whole day.  On Friday night, the opposing party dropped a bomb on us, which ended up delaying the start of our case on Monday morning.  ok, fine.  We can still do this.  In fact, when we broke for lunch, we were still on pace to do it.  Except after we go, they go, and they go slow.  Painfully slow.  Comically slow.  Embarrassingly slow.  And in the end, the worst thing that could have happened did happen - we didn't finish.  I was prepared for a win or a loss that day.  I was prepared to not know the outcome for a couple of weeks while the judge made an informed decision.  I was not prepared to have to wait 7 more weeks to finish a 1 day trial, and then wait a few more weeks while the judge makes a decision.

It hurt.  It really hurt.  After sitting on the stand for nearly 5 hours, it became clear that we weren't going to finish.  I broke down and cried for the whole afternoon recess - about 10 minutes.  After that, I had to get back on the stand to wait for more questions from the opposing party.  Just knowing that we couldn't finish yesterday nearly broke my spirit.  It is almost as bad as a loss.  At least with a loss, I can start moving forward with my life and trying to nail down a job in Omaha.  At this point, I'm in such limbo.  My whole family is. 

We did so much work to finish our case by Dec 13th.  They stalled, and now, since they're defense and go 2nd, have 7 more weeks to shore up their case.  It just seems at every turn, we're doing the right thing, but getting the wrong result.  They're doing the wrong thing and it feels like they're winning.  I don't understand.  And now, since the judge allowed them to enter their motion for custody, and since they currently have temporary custody, it gives their case that much more weight.  Like, it'd be a bigger disruption at this point to pull her out of that house and bring her back home to her own family.  What is going on?  In what world is this OK?  In what world does it make more sense to reward bad behavior?  And not just once, but over and over again?  Something is broken, and it's not just my spirit.

Don't slip

Yesterday was an interesting day.  For the first time in my life, I had my deposition taken.  I'll be honest.  It was pretty awful.  Hopefully, I don't fall apart on the stand on Monday.  Only time will tell, I guess.  My sister told me to get out my man-panties and pretend that I'm my other sister:  the emotionless robot who won't let other people get to her.  No guarantees, but I'll certainly try. 

I also got to listen to another deposition be taken.  It was interesting, in a C-SPAN w/o video sort of way.  I will admit that after the experiences of the last few months, I have come to the conclusion that I could be a lawyer.  And if I were a lawyer, I'd do a % of my cases pro bono.  Because this sh!t's expensive.  Excuse my language. 

To cheer me up today, my sister (the one who gave me the pep talk) sent me a little instructional .pdf on how to walk safely in the winter time.  I can't seem to get it to upload, so I'll copy and paste it.  Here: 

How to Walk on Ice
By Xxxx Xxxxxxxxxxx, Xxxxxxx Xxxxxxxxx Loss Prevention

Thousands of people die each year from falls. Many of them happen during the winter when snow and ice cover walkways and make getting around hazardous. Snow and ice buildup is a hazard we all live with. Taking some simple precautions will make walking on ice easier and less dangerous.

At the end of the day, the goal is to have everyone leave and go home in the same condition that they arrived in the morning. The following short steps can help us all accomplish this goal.

Instructions

                        Wear boots or sturdy shoes with non-skid soles. Don't try walking on ice in shoes that have no traction. Do not wear leather soled shoes, high heels or shoes that do not have rubber soled bottoms.

                        Take your time. Getting in a hurry increases your chances of a fall because you're not paying attention. Don’t take shortcuts. Stay on areas that have been cleared, salted and maintained.

                        Pay attentive to ice that can be covered with snow. When you think you're in the clear you could still hit a patch and fall.

                        Balance yourself with your arms. Get your hands out of your pockets and distribute the weight of packages evenly to give you better balance. Use luggage with rollers whenever possible.

                        Take short shuffling steps and avoid an erect posture. Walk as flat footed as possible.

                        Get help from someone who is wearing appropriate shoes or is more confident than you. Never be ashamed to ask for someone's arm to help you across a patch of ice.

Tips & Warnings

                        Get snow cleared away from walkways and driveways as soon as possible. Melting and refreezing of layered snow can cause heavy patches of ice.

                        Notify school if there are dangerous areas that need to be addressed with salt, sand, shoveling etc.

                        If you feel yourself beginning to fall try to relax and roll as much as possible. This will help lesson the impact and may keep you from breaking a bone. Protect your head if at all possible by trying to keep it up and away from impact with the ice.

Some of the notable tips were to relax and roll around while keeping your head up and off the concrete if you do find yourself falling, find someone more confident than yourself to hold onto, and avoiding an erect posture.  Really?  Also, "Getting in a hurry increases your chance of a fall..."  How about "BEING in a hurry.  Or HURRYING.  I'm not sure I've ever "gotten" into a hurry, but that might just be me.

I guess I'm going to have to crawl, then...

This is for all of you who think I'm a mean mom (which I'll admit that I am, but good kids have mean moms).  Anyway, my very own mother volunteered to watch 3 of my nephews while their parents went out of town 2 weeks ago.  They had gone for a walk, and were about 3 blocks from the house when the 3 (almost 4) year old announced that he couldn't walk any farther.  My mother stated that she couldn't carry him.  He countered with the "fact" that he couldn't walk.  This may have gone back and forth a few more times, but the end result was that my mom (his GRANDMOTHER) told him, "Well then you're going to have to crawl because I'm not going to carry you."  Wow, mom.  That's harsh.  But you know what?  That little guy walked the rest of the way home (if only to save his developing knee caps). 

I'm kind of in need of a mean mom (or grandma) to tell me to either walk or crawl because I'm kind of stuck in a slump.  I've tried being my own mean mom, but I'm not very good at it.  In fact, I'm beginning to think that I'm losing my mean momminess in general.  I let Bubba sleep with me everynight.  I will let him have snacks even if he doesn't eat anything at meal times.  I've even slacked (a little) on Scooter's baby-talk problem.  I need a little kick in the pants to get myself back in gear, both for my kids and for myself. 

So if you see me in the street or catch me on the phone, get strict with me.  You can even try to be inspriational about it.  I read something recently that said, "if we all put our troubles in a pile to split among us, we'd all want our own back" or something like that.  And I suppose it's true.  Once it's your trouble, you've already started down the path of coping.  And I can do this.  I'll just pretend it's easy.

Hunker down, honey!

I noticed these signs the first week I worked here.  I've been meaning to write about them, but I can't really decide from which angle to attack.  I guess I'll start out with some generalization about the signs here, and then hone in on one in particular...

There are signs everywhere.  (and yes, now I'm singing "Signs" silently to myself).  There are signs telling us what the codes are (pink is the only one I can ever remember - child/infant abduction).  There are signs telling us about our company core values.  There are signs (and hand sanitizer stations) reminding us to wash our hands.  And then there are these signs.  They're just regular pieces of red-colored paper with text (not even 1 picture!)...and they're about in-place sheltering in case of disaster or really bad weather. 

That's right.  Every time I use the stairs, I am forced to ask myself the question, "if I have to in-place shelter at work, am I prepared?"  No.  I'm not.  I don't have duct tape and plastic sheeting in a desk drawer.  I don't have a gallon of water per day stored in the corner.  I don't have dry or canned foods with a can opener.  No dust mask or first aid kit or flashlight with extra batteries.  Heck, I don't even have a book or crossword puzzle to pass the time.  I am sooo not prepared to stay here longer than 8 hours a day, 5 days a week...

But if 33 Chileans can use mining equipment as workout equipment, maybe I can scrounge up enough office supplies to play a few games of tic tac toe.  Plus, my cube is right next to the break room.  All the bottled water I can drink!  I'll defend it with my tiny pocket knife and create a fort out of the empties.  I can raid the fridge and eat everyone else's lunch food.  On second thought, maybe the next time I see a snowflake in the sky, I'll declare the need to in-place shelter, and not leave here for a few days.  Sure, it might be a little unconventional, but we need to think of personal and community safety, here...

Certifiable

When we last left off, I had just taken my 2nd certification exam.  Epic received the completed test via FedEx on Monday, and 3 hours later, I had my result:  PASS!  I missed .5 points more than my first test, but it's still a respectable 94%. 

Fancily enough, today I got my certificate saying I am certified in my first data model.  So...it takes about 2 weeks from the grade posting until you actually get the certificate in the mail.  Expect me to be hanging something in my cube on the 14th, when I get back from Omaha.  Oh, wait...the 15th, when I get back into the office after working from home after getting back from Omaha.  Whew.

A lot has happened on the private front of my life ***insert happy, worried, angry, unemotional, accomodating face here***  which I won't really get into other than to say my stomach is doing flips as I type this.

The time of my life

Because mediation followed by travels with an infant which involve packing everything we'll need for 4 days into a backpack isn't stressful enough, I scheduled my last certification exam for today.  It was originally scheduled for last Friday (so I would, in theory, get my results back before Thanksgiving), but there was a mix up, and my exam didn't get ordered.  So, I ordered it last week, and scheduled it for today.  If I couldn't get the results back, I could at least get the pre-exam jitters out of the way before turkey day (or in our case this year, brisket day). 

I was a little amped up after mediation, going over and over what happened, what was said, what I *should* have said, etc with whoever would listen to me.  I got Bubba from "school" (and brought home his Thanksgiving card - so cute!), and stopped at the grocery to get dinner items.  By the time I had fed him dinner, I had already talked to Ben, skyped with Lily, and talked with Ben again.  Yes.  I skyped with Lily.  At her dad's house.  It was amazing.  And eye-opening.  The computer (and web cam) is in Vicky's* ready-room.  I'm not sure what you'd call it for real, but it's where she stores her make up and hair supplies.  It's quite a collection.  I'd say, other than my trips to Ulta or Beauty Brands, I've never seen that many beauty supplies in one place.  It makes me wonder what she would look like without all that help (*shudder*). 

Anyway, back to me being amped up coupled with a busy evening (I also had to do laundry before we leave tomorrow, and Bubba was out of socks) coupled with a phone that was ringing off the hook.  That's a completely antiquated saying now that I don't even have a phone with a hook.  I guess we should come up with a new saying. My phone was vibrating off the table.  There.  Long story still long, I stayed up WAAAY too late studying.  Even after I gave it up for the night, I still couldn't really sleep.  Nevertheless, I took the exam this morning.  And I'm hoping I passed.  I walked out confident, but I don't like to be one of those overly confident people who end up not actually living up to all their talk.  So I'll just say that I'm waiting anxiously for the Wednesday after Thanksgiving.  But I'm MORE anxious for the Thursday OF Thanksgiving, when I can see my husband and daughter and mom and sisters again.


* Vicky is not her real name.  But she does look like someone named Vicky...

I moved.

We emerged from the basement shortly after 9am this morning.  We had an "all team" meeting with the new CIO today, and after it was over, the movers were in our basement room, tearing down our computers to move them upstairs.  We have known about this move since November 10th or so.  The cubes we moved into, on the 2nd floor, were generally empty or belonged to consultants.  The new CIO asked (as did we, but apparently people only listen if you have a big "C" after your name), "why are our consultants, who generally work remotely for weeks at a time, in cubes, when we have actual employees in a giant table in the basement?"  Good question.  And we got our answer in short order.  After all, the CIO just started on November 1st, and we had a hospital go live on a new system during that time.

So we moved today.  I packed my box on Friday before I left, so all we had to do was follow our computers upstairs.  When I got to my new cube, I noticed that the girl into who's cube I was moving a)  wasn't there, and b) hadn't packed anything.  At all.  I felt awkward.  I didn't want to move in, and i didn't want to rifle through all of her stuff to pack it up for her.  So I set my stuff in a corner, and got to work (my computer was there, afterall).  She showed up at about 1pm, and said, 'Um...excuse me?'  I asked if she was XX.  She said yes.  I said I had been moved to that cube, and asked if she knew this was coming.  She had no idea. Hard to believe, since all the other consultants had already moved out, but maybe nobody told her?  Maybe I moved into the wrong cube?  I hope not.

After that awkwardness, in which I ended up walking her down to the dungeon from which I came, I decided to check out the new digs as far as bathrooms go.  All the doors upstairs have key codes on them.  Including the bathrooms.  Unfortunately, not all of the codes are the same.  I had to ask someone what the code was.  Embarrassing.

The bathroom upstairs is surprisingly not as nice as the one in the basement.  Or more likely, I'm just not used to it, yet.  But the interior seems older (except the soap and paper towel dispensers, which are hands free).  And there's only 2 stalls, which is a shocker, since there were 3 in the basement.  I still haven't figured out which one is the best throne.  But since I've decided to keep my lunch in the relatively empty break room in the basement, I might have to make trips down there to the "safety" of a familiar bathroom, too.

My wheels got stuck, but I think I can keep going...

Scooter's dad didn't let Scooter come home this weekend.  At all.  I lobbied hard.  The weekends, when she comes home, are the only times I get to "see" her.  We skype a couple of times a day, and I get to see her happy face, and she gets to see mine.  It's a sacred time for me.  If it's a mealtime, we'll bring the laptop into the kitchen, and she sits with us at the table while Bubba and I chow down.  If we're out, we'll make a u-turn to come home so we can turn the computer on.  But not this weekend.  This weekend, we are going about our business with some sadness in our hearts.

She couldn't come over today because they had scheduled a hair appointment for her (it's about time!!) after her soccer game, and they have a party to go to at 11am on Sunday.  Basically, that also means that my mom can't take her to church on Sunday, either.  I asked if Scooter could come over after the party (not even to spend the night), just so I could see her for a while.  The answer was a resounding, "No."  And I cried.  I know, I know.  A monkey didn't rip off my hands and face (yet), but it was still such a huge disappointment.  Scooter looks forward to it, and I really look forward to it every weekend.  We usually skype at least 2 times per day on Sat and Sun.  This week will be a big fat zero.

The only bright side is that now, (after 2 months of saying he'll do it), maybe her dad will have the time to actually get her vaccinated for the flu.  Somehow, I have my doubts, though.

Bubba and I finally got rid of the smaller storage unit.  It's official:  we've moved out.  The larger storage unit also received some re-organization today.  Now all the bikes are in there, and so is my trunk mounted bike rack.  It has become too cold for Leo to ride in the "chariot," so there's no reason for me to have the bike here at the apartment.  It also opened up some space in the kitchen.  Bikes and kitchens don't belong together.  I brought back all the photo albums from storage, so maybe instead of laughing and talking to Scooter face to face, I'll just gaze at photos from years past and smile.  She's become such an amazing kid.  And even though her dad might be trying his damnedest to ruin that, he can't.  She'll always be my amazing little monkey -- just not the kind that rips off hands or faces.

I'm thmart!

I did something smart today:  instead of wearing my work shoes on my commute, I wore my light hikers.  I also figured out the mechanics of a cardboard box, but that might not be something to be super proud of.
1.  My feet didn't get wet (gortex uppers are awesome!)
2.  I didn't slip on any of the mushy leaves that were in my path.

It wasn't all gumdrops and unicorns, though.  I noticed some heel/foot/ankle pain last night.  I was hoping that wearing a better pair of shoes for walking would help.  It really didn't.  And, since I was over-confident in my hikers, I took the footpath from the train station back to my parking lot to get the car so I could pick up Bubba 8 minutes faster.  It worked.  I was faster.  But the footpath was really a mud path.  And the grass next to the path (where I walked) was so soggy that the mud kind of sprung up when I walked on the grass.  My feet were dry, but I kicked up some mud onto my work pants.  Luckily, they are not my dry-clean only pants.

Bubba is finally adjusting nicely to daycare.  It was rough for a couple of weeks, there, as he got used to life without a nanny and daddy around all the time.  We printed out 10 pictures of Ben, Scooter, Bubba and me and brought them in on Monday.  Linda, his main afternoon caregiver, put contact paper over them to protect them, and they let him carry a couple of them around during the day.  She said that Tuesday at about 10am, something just clicked, and he started playing really nicely and quit crying and asking about daddy and his sister.  Everyday this week has been better than the day before, and today when I picked him up, he didn't have one tear.  He said, "MAMA!" and smiled before running toward me.  As he got closer, it almost turned to crying, but it didn't.  He just gave me a big hug.  Yay!  I hope spending Thanksgiving surrounded by his family doesn't cause a relapse.

Pass the humanity, please

Would you like to know what makes me mad?  I'll admit it:  pretty much everything.  I have what some refer to as "a short fuse."  Inside my own mind, I don't really get too worked up about stuff; I'm kind of an easy going person.  But on the outside, sometimes I project a person who becomes indignant about every little perceived injustice.  I think the outward display of temper helps me maintain a general mood of happiness on the inside.  But every once in a while, my inside gets worn down, and there I am, just mad.  Today was one of those days. 

It was raining and windy and cold.  A few separate coworkers referred to it as "a hurricane!" outside.  Actually, it was a little less windy and a little warmer than a rainy fall day in Omaha.  It sure was dark, though.  Maybe the surrounding hills and valleys make it seem darker than it really is outside.  Or maybe the tree cover makes it darker.  Either way, when I left work shortly after 4pm, it was dark outside.  Dark and rainy.  Dark and rainy and windy and cold. 

Although I have honed my skills in avoiding puddles, by the time I had walked my mile back to the train stop, my pants were soaked up to my knees.  It was on that walk that I got mad.  I have a problem with drivers.  When I first moved here, I was pleasantly surprised at just how courteous drivers were toward pedestrians and bikers.  They would come to a stop in the street, even at intersections without cross walks, so pedestrians could cross.  They would start slowing down a block away, so the walker would know that they had been spotted and it was safe to start crossing.  Today, however, in the cold and the wind and the rain, car after car after car rushed by, even on streets WITH cross walks, as other walkers and myself stood silently near the curb. 

I mostly get annoyed at this behavior in parking lots, as where I come from (or at least where I lived for the past 7 years), there is no expectation for cars to stop or even slow down for a pedestrian in the street.  But I've become spoiled in my short time out here.  As a pedestrian, I suddenly feel entitled to cross the street when ever and where ever I want.  Today, at street after street (I have to cross 12 streets on my way to and from the train and work), I was stopped and forced to wait as cars or trucks rushed by and threatened to spray me with gutter water.  Each time, I got a little more angry.  I think it was just the fact that each time eroded a little of my faith in humanity.  Already, my faith in humanity is on shakey ground, lately.  It seems as if nobody is willing to help me or my family unless I pay them, and even then, I have questions as to whether or not they really want to help.  So the little jabs by the 40 or so cars that passed me by today kind of cut.

By the time I made it to the train, I pretty much hated the world.  When I got on the train, I scanned for a seat, found none, and leaned against a prime standing location near the door.  I don't know what my expression was:  probably a frown.  And that's when an older gentleman stood up, turned to me and offered his seat.  I felt honored by him.  I said "No thank you.  Please, go ahead."  After all, at every stop, they announce that we should give up our seats to the elderly and those with physical difficulties.  I am morally opposed to taking a seat from someone who is older than me. 

That small gesture made my day. Sometimes, one small thing can make a huge difference in someone's life.

busy work

Last night, after I picked Bubba up from daycare, we had our first low-key evening in a long time. At least, it seemed like it had been a long time.  We didn't have to run to make any copies or fax anything or mail anything.  All we had to do was play, read, and eat dinner.  We did two of those things really well.  One of them was pretty ok, too, though.

When Ben came out here with the moving truck, we basically went from nearly 2000 square feet of living and storage space in our house to about 850 square feet in an apartment.  No garage, no storage shed, no unfinished basement, no shelving in a storage area, just apartment.  We decided to rent a storage unit.  We probably should have known at the time that 750 (15x5 by 10 feet high) cubic feet was not going to make up the difference.  We were optomistic.  A day later, we rented 1000 more cubic feet (10x10 square, by 10 ft high).  The problem is that the 2 units were on opposite ends of the storage complex. Consolidation would take time, strength, and probably a truck.  It was raining, Ben was sick, and Bubba was sad, so we did not consolidate that day.  We merely loaded the larger unit. 

After calling several donation centers around town (VA, Salvation Army, Humane Society), and finding that nobody wanted my old garage storage units, we made the tough decision to dis-assemble in order to move one from the smaller unit.  It was way too heavy for me to lift and too big for my car.  I spent my whole lunch break un-screwing all the screws by hand yesterday and loading the pieces into my car - to eventually end up in a dumpster.  After work (I worked from home), I ran over there to finish the job.  I had to remove the carseat from the backseat to get the larger pieces into the car.  But it's done.  I re-arranged some boxes in the larger unit, and I was able to fit everything in there.  Of course, eventually my bike, another one of Ben's bikes (he already has 2 in there), and Scooter's bike will have to be added in.  We'll have to rent yet another storage unit for bikes and bike accessories...

Story of my life.

Every year, people ask me what I want for Christmas.  Generally, either I can't think of a single thing, or the one thing I want is thousands of dollars - not really appropriate to ask a new boyfriend for a new car or new mattress set.  This year, however, the one year that Christmas is going to be small to non-existent for the adults in the family, I have a huge long list.  The weird thing is that most of my list centers around my feet...

1.  New work socks.  This does not mean that they have to be boring.  I regularly wear the bright orange socks with green toes and heels that I got last year.  It's just that, since I'm now wearing business casual everyday, I go through socks a lot faster than I used to.  I've already thrown 3 pairs away since moving 2 months ago.

2.  A pair of galoshes.  I walk 2 miles for my commute everyday.  And suddenly, I've been doing that in the rain and ruining the bottoms of my pants.  I'd like to protect myself a little bit on the walk to and from the train.

3.  A pair of dark brown shoes.  Just like my franco sartos (black penny-loafer looking things), but brown.  So I can wear them with my awesome brown pants.

4.  A rain coat.  This is not mandatory.  Just a whim.  Of course, nothing on this list is really mandatory.

5.  Any sort of "work" clothing.  Mostly shirts or tops, though.  Preferably the kind that doesn't require ironing (light sweaters, etc). 

I know you're all dying to go out and get me some cute sweater sets.  I prefer boring colors:  beige, off white, black, or brown.  but I also love a splash of color now and then:  maroon, pink, periwinkle, light blue....

Nothing's really fun without you, either.

Scooter came home for the weekend.  This whole ordeal is taking its toll on her.  She couldn't sleep one night, and when Ben talked to her about it, she said nothing was any fun without her brother.  I kind of feel the same way about her.  But we do try to have a little fun.

A couple of nights after Ben left, I gave Bubba a faux hawk after his bath.  Please excuse the moving mess in the kitchen...

He was not amused.

I also wanted to post some of his terrific artwork from school.  I noticed a new one today, but these photos are from a week or so ago.  In preparation for Thanksgiving, they made horns of plenty, turkeys, and...squirrels?

  I took wide shots, so you can compare the kids' work.  Bubba's is the turkey on the left.  One feather out of place.  I like the one on the right...that turkey fell down.

 I'm not sure which of these two squirrels is Bubbas (his name wasn't on the front), but I do know it's one of these two.

Bubba's horn of plenty is the one on the farthest right.

Now that I've printed some photos of Ben and Scooter, Bubba is doing better in school.  The daycare put contact paper on the photos to kind of protect them a little, and Bubba carts those things around all day.  The only time he puts them down is when he has to in order to go outside.

Slacker

It's been a while since I've posted anything.  I've kind of been having a  life-induced writer's block.  I've been super busy with stuff even more mundane than what I normally write about.  I had to work in Vancouver for two days last week:  Thursday and Friday.  We recently had a hospital go live on Epic.  It was our first.  They started on November 1st, which meant that the IS department ran 24 hour operations for two weeks.  I was supposed to do at least one 12 hour shift, but since there is no such thing as a daycare that runs for 14 hours, I finagled a deal with a coworker in which we split 2 shifts.  I took the 7am-1:30pm part, and he did 1:30-7:30pm.  It worked out pretty well, but I did learn that I never want to work in Portland and live in Vancouver or vice versa.  There are a lot of people who do that, but I will never be one of them.  The commute is too awful. 

Thursday, after my shift, I came home, printed off a document, got it notarized and faxed it off.  Friday, I came home, printed off a different document, signed it and faxed it off as well as mailed the doc from Thursday.  I also spent way too much time printing other stuff and redacting much of it.  Today, Bubba and I mailed about 1/2 a ream of paper to my husband.  Hopefully, it was enough. 

Today is November 13th, which means that one month from this moment, I'll be flying back here to Portland, either crying tears of joy or anguish.  I'm obviously hoping for joy, but my husband and I started thinking about what to do if it's anguish tonight.  So much planning to do.  I hope we won't have to execute any of those plans.  I'm ready for life to get back on track.  I'm ready to start saving some money again, rather than just spending it.  And I'm ready for my family to be a family again.

crying time?

I worked from home today.  I spent a few hours in the morning doing some research for a few reports that I'm writing.  After that, I spent some time studying for my next certification exam.  For the last exam, I played music during study hours, and since I PASSED, I decided to continue with that strategy.  Instead of listening to my "Ben" playlist, which is what I did for the last test, I scrolled through and actually picked music.  What I found was that I ended up choosing a bunch of "Ben" songs anyway, but  instead of just letting them play in the background, I'd actually pay attention to a song or two.

One of the songs that I listened to early on stuck in my head all day.  "The Weeping Song" by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds (Listen to the song here).  It's one of those melancholy songs that Ben has a penchant for.  And, as the title alludes, it's about weeping.  The kind of crying a person does from pain and true sadness.  It stuck with me not just because it's about being sad and crying, but because the song gets quiet in the middle, and then grows in strength until the end, where the lyric is, "But I won't be weeping long."

Today, it was as if good ol' Nick (just like jolly ol' saint nick, but totally different) was singing directly to me.  I am strong.  I can do this.  And I don't need to spend the rest of my life weeping.

Forward movement

Bubba stayed in bed all night last night.  He didn't necessarily sleep all night, but I'll take what I can get.  The past week, since his dad went back to Omaha, he's gotten up while I've been in the shower.  That wouldn't be a problem, except it's very unsettling to step out of the shower, open the bathroom door and see a little kid standing there.  He doesn't cry.  He just stands there, looking up at the door and then me.  Poor baby.  I usually scoop him up and lay down with him until he falls back asleep.  Occasionally, I chase him around the apartment while he looks under the chairs, couch, desk, etc for his dad or Scooter.  Once I do pick him up, he points around at various places that he may have missed where his dad or sister could be hiding.  They're never there. 

We'll eventually settle back in and sleep.  Sometimes.  Last night, I got out of the shower, opened the door, and heard him snoring in my room.  Success!  I got in bed and fell asleep pretty quickly, but I was the one who woke up several times.  I mostly needed to check on Bubba to make sure he was still sleeping.  He was.  He got up once to toss around and kick, but other than that, he slept like a baby.  And every once in a while, in his sleep, he'll say, "daddy?  yee-yee?" and then snore some more. 

5 more weeks. 

Itchy and Scratchy

I got tested for allergies this morning.  Again.  The last time this happened was about...oh...25 years ago.  The vague memory I have is of laying on my stomach with my shirt off as a team of scary people poked me in the back 80+ times with a safety-pin type thing and then dropped acid on me.  I'm sure that memory is not 100% accurate, but it was a pretty awful experience with the result of it being confirmed that I was, indeed, allergic to everything on earth.  That was followed by 10 or 12 years of allergy shots.  The goal was to eventually declare victory over allergens. 

I kind of thought it worked.  I mean, sure, I still have seasonal difficulties (in 3 seasons), but doesn't everyone?  Also, for the two years I lived in Korea, I was fine.  And the two years in South Carolina?  No problems.  Even the first couple of years back in the midwest were fairly uneventful.  But the past couple of years in Nebraska pretty much sucked.  Actually, it didn't because my head was so congested, I couldn't breathe in or out. 

Today, out of curiousity (and a few other reasons), I got tested again.  It turns out that although I no longer have an allergy to dogs or cockroaches (ew!), I'm still allergic to everything else.  On a good note, I have perfect lung function - at 104% of "normal" for my age, weight and gender.  My super lungs have compensated for the fact that I can't get oxygen in through my nose.  Hopefully, I've passed on that gene as well as my allergy genes to my kids.  I'd hate to have only passed on the allergies and left them with sub-par lungs.

After listening to some interesting information regarding certain drugs vs others, and the fact that the world of allergy research has made some major progress in the last 5 years, I left.  I assured them that I was fine - that I had not experienced any reactions to the tests other than the itching/burning on my fore-arms.  But really, my throat is now a little scratchy, and my head is super itchy - which for me is a tell-tale allergy sign.  Anytime I have itchy head, you can be sure that my allergies are bothering me.

I was given a prescription and a 7 day trial for singulair.  It's actually an asthma preventative (non-steroidal), but they've found that in patients with an aspirin sensitivity (me!), that singulair or any other leukotriene blocker actually works better to control allergies than a standard anti-histamine like zyrtec or claritin.  Awesome news, considering both of those drugs alternatively stop working for me every few months - and zyrtec never works for Scooter.  I'm thinking of taking one right now.  But they told me to take one before bedtime, as it can cause drowsiness.  It also can cause vivid dreams.  And severe reactions (but only sometimes).  Maybe I should take one right before calling 9-1-1 tonight.

Opposite day

Wednesday night, Bubba was awake from 11pm-4am.  Last night, he only slept from 11-4.  I guess it's a step up, but it was still pretty painful.  I'm hoping for a cuddle/sleep in session tomorrow morning plus a LONG nap in the afternoon.

I got some good news ***insert good news here*** today.  Hooray! 

I also got assigned 6 new reports to work on at work.  When I first got here, I got 2 right away.  They were easy - as they were pre-made, and I just had to convert them to our database and report template.  After that, I got two more.  One, I had to do from scratch, and the other was started for me by another employee, and I just had to finish it.  Today, I got the mother load.  5 pre-mades to convert (one will take way more work than it's supposed to, though), and one "from scratch" report, which could be semi-easy or super hard.  I'm not sure which, yet.  I'll have to do some more research.

Almost Friday

I'm glad today is over.  After not sleeping last night, I dropped Bubba off at daycare (pretty good transition with very little crying), then proceeded to go to work.  I've been riding the train to work for less than two months. Today, for the second time, my train was delayed due to a medical emergency.  The first time, an elderly lady on my train became ill, and they stopped the train at the Washington Park stop so paramedics could pick her up, and the operator could clean up a little.  Today, it was the train in front of us.  I'm not sure of what went down, but it happened at the Washington Park station again.  And it almost made me late for work again. 

Sometime during the wait, I realized I had left my water bottle at home.  Shoot.  I didn't hear from the man about the news I was supposed to get today.  Shoot again.  I sat for my first certification exam.  Luckily, I had remembered my laptop, so that was nice.  And I think I did really well.  I could only miss 9 points in order to still pass.  So here's to hoping for 8.  My exam was put into FedEx's hands this afternoon.  After it's received in Wisconsin, they have 3 business days to grade it.  I hope I hear yeah or nay (go yeah!) by next Friday.

So my day picked up around 2pm.  On my walk back to the train this afternoon, I talked to Ben on the phone and found 2 pennies!!  Hopefully, that means double luck for today.  1 for the test, and 1 for a full night's sleep tonight.

Nobody likes a braggart

Least of all my son.  He taught me a hard lesson last night, when he was up from 11pm-4am.  My theory is that the skype session with Ben made Bubba realize that maybe his dad really wasn't on an airplane.  Maybe his daddy was somewhere in the apartment.  Like..in a closet, or under the desk, or anywhere that we were not.  It started like this:  he got up at 11 and screwed around for a little bit.  Then, he started crying.  Loud.  Worried about waking neighbors, I put him in bed with me, which usually calms him down, and we sleep all night.  Except last night, it just made him mad.  He wiggled and kicked and rolled and squirmed until he decided he'd had enough and just got out of bed completely.  I hauled him back in, and he wiggled back out, and this went on for some time.  He kept saying, "daddy" and pointing to the door.  When I told him to lie down with me, he'd say, "no."  Finally, I had had enough, and I put him back in his crib.

That's when the crying really started.  I didn't want to go in there and encourage such behaviour, so I waited until he was quiet.  Imagine my surprise/horror to see my little baby hanging off the outside of his crib by his armpits.  He couldn't get back in, but he was too scared to drop down.  Great.  Now that we've crossed that hurdle, there will be no keeping him in that crib anymore.  I scooped him up and put him back in bed with me.  We talked and kicked (mostly him), and finally fell asleep an hour and a half before my alarm went off.

I can't wait to rock the certification exam later today...

Hair today, gone tomorrow

Not really.  I'll still have hair tomorrow.  It just won't be as awesome as my hair was today.  I straightened it, as usual, but instead of just letting it hang there like I normally do, today I put it up.  It was a weird, 1/2 french twist that I've done since my days in the military (not in uniform, of course), when I was sick of buns or braids.  You start like a french twist (hold it like you're going to make a pony tail, then twist up), then secure it 1/2 way up with a big barrette, so the rest of your hair flops over, hiding the barrette, and hangs loose.  It kind of looks like a high pony tail, but your hair looks shorter than it really is.  Since I had straightened my hair, it kind of looked like a hair explosion back there - all spiky and straight.  I looked like I had real-life Asian hair.  Finally!  It was handy, especially since today was so warm.  I might do it tomorrow, so my hair doesn't get in my way while taking my first certification exam.  I have a feeling that it won't be the same, though.  I hope I'm ready!  And I hope I know whether or not I passed before next Friday.

Guess who slept in his own crib last night?!  For the whole night!!  Yep, that's right.  It was the first time since Bubba came back here with me on the 24th of October.  What a big boy.  His transition time at daycare is getting better, too.  This morning, he cried as soon as we pulled up to the building, but when we got inside, he gave me a hug, hopped down, and started playing with the train set.  He did start crying again when I hugged him good-bye, though.  And when I picked him up, he was sitting nicely with the other kids, and only started crying after I talked to him.  When I picked him up and told him to say "bye-bye" to his friends, though, he immediately stopped crying and started waving.  We're getting there.  Baby steps.

I've been doing some work on the big issue in my life.  I'd like to knock all of this stuff out and coast for a week or two, but I have a feeling that the real work is only beginning.  I really hope that this will all soon be a distant, weird memory.

0 boxes were emptied tonight.  Too much other stuff to work on.  That, and Bubba, Ben and I skyped for about 45 minutes.  Bubba kept showing Ben his big belly (he ate a good dinner tonight!).  He cried after the "call" was over, and kept pointing at the computer and saying, "daddy?"  Maybe tomorrow, buddy.

Where Bubba Goes

I might go to a basement, but Bubba goes to a much more fun place during the day.  In the morning, all the kids are in the main room where you walk in.  There’s a train set that Bubba shows interest in, and there’s a tiny school bus that is also really fun.  We walk all the way back to the toddler room to hang up his jacket.  They have several areas for the kids:  infants, wobblers, toddler1, toddler2, preschool, and pre-kindergarten.  They also do before and after school care for older children.  Bubba is in toddler1.  He’s in that age range, and he’s still working on potty training – and by “still working,” I mean, he’s never really tried, but they’re introducing him to the idea of it.  I’m sure it looks appealing to him in theory.  He’ll gratuate to toddler2 this spring and stay there until he is totally potty trained.  I hope he’s not there until he’s 12.

They do not allow binkies or bottles, but with the crazy transition that he’s been going through, we’ve kind of been a little lax in the binky area.  He’s a smart kid, though.  As soon as we pull up to “school” in the morning, he hands over the binky before he starts fussing.  He’s not really happy about the abandonment everyday.  He’s got a little bit of separation anxiety.  He does like looking at the other kids when we get there, and when I crouch beside him while he plays, he’s fine.  But as soon as it’s time for me to go, he gets sad.  Luckily, they do let him wear his hat “at” all day.  And even though he starts crying as soon as he sees me in the evening, they say he’s doing fine. 

He gets to talk to Scooter anytime he’s awake when she calls.  He smooshes his little face against the phone and listens hard, as if the harder he listens the closer she is.  It’s really sweet.  He’ll say, “hi” and “sissy,” but mostly he just listens.  Night time is also a struggle, but it is getting better.  He’s falling asleep in his crib by himself and sleeping there for a while.  When he first goes to bed, he'll lay in his crib and say, his word for his name over and over until he falls asleep.  It's precious.  Sometime between 11:30pm and 3am, he’ll wake up and cry until someone comes to get him.  He and I will be doing a lot of co-sleeping while Ben is still in Omaha.  That’ll be fine.  We still don’t have the heat on in the apartment, and he’s warm.

Happy Halloween (a little late...)

Halloween came and went in Portland and Omaha.  Bubba was a super superman.  Scooter was a better than fair fairy.  I'll post some pictures later tonight, so be sure to check back in.  

In Portland, it rained all day Saturday, but Sunday (Halloween) was beautiful.  We drove down to Sweet Home and looked at cows, horses, and dogs (oooo, neeee, oof-ooof) at Ben's aunt and uncle's house.  On the way home, we saw some sheep in a field (baaah).  I think we all had fun. 

The apartment is starting to come together.  After an initial push last week, where we were emptying boxes like it was going out of style, we’re down to about 2 per night.  Last night was the last of the “bathroom” boxes.  It’s amazing how much soap, bath toys, hair gear and creams a single family can acquire over the years.  The goal now is to use all of this stuff up before we buy anymore of anything.  And when we do buy more, we’ll think twice about buying in bulk.  I know.  It’s depressing.  I LOVE saving 3 cents per bar of soap when I buy 20 of them.  That’s a 60 cent savings! 

I think tonight, I’ll try to tackle some of the kids’ toys and books.  Scooter has a lot of books.  A lot.  She has read each of them at least once, and Bubba is ready to start listening to many of them, but still.  Do a 7 and almost 2 year old really need 8 boxes of books?  Why, yes!  Especially when they have a mother who does not like her kids watching TV.  I’m excited about getting the last bit of everything put away.  It’ll be harder now that Ben is gone though.  He left today to head back to Omaha.  Hopefully, he’ll sell that house soon. 

We had potentially good news yesterday *** insert potentially good news here ***.  We’ll know more later in the week.  Thursday, to be exact, which is also the day I take my first certification exam.  Hopefully, it’s good news all around.  I won’t find out about the certification until sometime next week, though.  Most likely by Wednesday or Thursday.  I’ll be keeping my fingers crossed for the next 10 days.  I hope it doesn’t disrupt my ability to do anything else, like pick up coins in the street.  I was dismayed for a while, as I've been stuck on 60 cents found for a week or so.  Today, I found a quarter (my first quarter!), which brings my total up to 85 cents.  I'm 15 cents away from a whole dollar.

how much cottage cheese can you stuff into a ziplock?

Our apartment is pretty full.  That might be the biggest understatement of our life times.  We have too much stuff stuffed into a 970 sq ft apartment.  It's not that our old house was so huge.  But it did have 4 separate bedroom areas, an unfinished basement and an oversized 2 car garage with a shed in the backyard.  You can't tell me that we can reasonably fit all of that stuff into this apartment.  But we've certainly tried.  My major point of pride is that we have fit all of our shelves and storage cabinets into the apartment, but have stored most of the knick-knack items so that the shelves, etc, can now be repurposed to be more useful.

And if I had a list of "must haves" in my next house after living in my last house, that list is much, much more reasonable.  Instead of "huge mudroom with utility sink", I think I'll be happy with "area to wipe feet when walking in the door."  Or "giant kitchen with walk-in pantry," I could settle for....no  that one might be non-negotiable.  But what I'm saying is that this austerity plan that we're about to embark on is cramped.  And a little weird.  But I think it's doable, and if we can save a little $$ ($UPGRADE$) in the process, great!  And when we finally do move into a bigger house, we'll appreciate it much more. 

Now if we can just sell the old house, so we can start our austerity plan and get off our gulf-style money gusher plan, that'd be great.

Where I go

As you know, I work in a basement.  The building I'm in has a badge-reader to get into the side doors, but once you're in the stairwell, you need a key to get into any of the floors.  Even the basement.  Once in the basement, you have to go down a long, dark, dust-bunny hallway with exposed pipes near the ceiling.  It really is a Freddy Kruger movie set cliche'.  Toward the end of the hall, there's a door to the right with a big red sign saying something to the effect of "DO NOT BLOCK..." blah blah blah.  There's an industrial-sized linen cart blocking that door.  Further down the hall, also on the right, are some lockers.  Much to my imagination's delight, there is a hanger with a navy blue towel on it hanging off one of the lockers.  Straight ahead is the door to civilization.  No need for a key here.  Going through that door leads you to a little area where the world's slowest elevator opens to the basement.  If the next door is closed, you'll need a key to get into the actual, livable basement area.  Usually, it's propped open, though.  Directly through the door to the left is where I work.  It's a key-code door, which is also usually propped open during business hours.  Inside, 3 of the walls have tables set up against them with 9 computers on them and 9 chairs pulled up in front.  You'd think that means 3 chairs per wall, but really it means 4-2-3.  I'm on the 2 wall, which is amazing because I was the last one hired.

Outside our room is a modern-art style room, which has recently been decorated to look like it was done in the early 70s.  Which is to say there's one orange wall, with modernish furniture (you know...the kind with no arm rests, and a backrest on only 1/2 of the love seat, which also has a small circular table coming up out of it).  There are also Jackson Pollock prints up here and there.  Past that room and to the left are the restrooms, and 2 individual shower rooms.  I laughed at those when I first started.  They are off a dark corner of the basement and kind of creeped me out.  But it certainly explains the navy blue towel.

Today, when I went to get my second cup of coffee, the break area smelled like my grandpa from Canada.  Not exactly old spice, but similar, and definitely clean-smelling.  It helped to get my day started off on a good footing.

I've created a monster

I started a new report at work today.  I spent a couple of hours researching the necessary fields and tables yesterday, and today I started putting it together.  I never thought I'd say that writing the SQL query would be easier than trying to get the job done in Crystal, but today, I found one of Crystal's many weak spots - select statements in the WHERE clause.  No biggie, but it made me pause for a minute before pulling in another instance of a table, which I didn't want to do.  Hopefully, I'll finish this thing up tomorrow, as it's due before "go live" on the 1st.

We're about, hm...35% done moving into the apartment?  Everything is either in here or in a storage unit.  The next step is opening all the boxes and putting things where they belong.  We started on that today.  There are a lot of boxes.  I'm sure we'll be doing this for a while.  The TV, DVD player, and (obviously) computers are set up as well as a lot of kitchen stuff.  You know, the important things.  Who needs clothes in dressers, anyway?

Bubba is taking his time adjusting to all the change.  So far, he's not a fan of daycare.  Nor is he a fan of sleeping - at least not in his own room.  So even though I'm as against the idea as I can be, I brought up the option of letting Bubba sleep with us.  At least until things settle down a bit.  It's really the only way he'll sleep, and if he doesn't sleep, nobody else does, either.  He's a bit of a tyrant like that.  I know I shouldn't baby him, but he is my baby.  That, and I am terrified of being evicted due to the noise pollution between 11:30pm - 4am.  Maybe we can get tough once we're back in a house...

who's that lady?

...sexy lady.  Rob--you'll know what I'm talking about.  Not really.

I have been here long enough, and I have a pretty standard schedule to the point that I recognize certain faces on my way into or home from work.  The mile + that I walk to and from the train stop afford me plenty of opportunity to smile and say, "good morning" or "good afternoon" to random strangers that I feel a bond with since I see them at least 3 times a week.  Not to mention the characters that ride the train with me. 

On my way into work, there's a girl (probably late 20s?) who runs everyday.  She usually is just leaving her apartment as I walk by, so she darts out in front of me and takes off.  Only, she's not that fast, so I kind of stalk-follow her for a couple of blocks before she turns right and I go straight.  She reminds me of a girl that started at Offwire a few weeks before I left, so I always want to say, "hey, carrie" when she runs by.  I don't, though.  It'd probably WAAYY freak her out. 

The next person I see is a person who I'm 78% sure is a female to male transgendered person.  He's super feminine looking, but he's got a lot of facial hair (full beard).  Also, he's just stuffed into his clothes, like he recently gained about 25-30 pounds, but never bought new shirts to compensate.  He's very shy.  I've been trying to make eye contact and say hello since about day 2, so of course, by now he's completely scared of me.  I've seen him cross the street so he doesn't actually have to walk past me.  My heart soared a few weeks ago, when I smiled and he smiled, but since then, it's gone down hill.  I still vow that by the February, I'll have gotten him to say something, so I can hear his voice and be sure of my suspicions.

Today, I forgot my work badge.  I also forgot my drivers license.  The weird thing is that I remembered my purse and my wallet.  It just so happened that I didn't have my name badge in my purse, and I had taken my license out of my wallet for traveling yesterday.  Oops.  So even though a bunch of people see me everyday at work, and even though I work in the basement, totally tucked away from anyone, I was still advised to get a visitor's badge so I wouldn't be harassed by random employees in the hallways.  Because it does happen.  Weird.

Back to work blues

Even though we didn't take the super late flight home yesterday, it was still a late night for me.  Not to mention it was an all-nighter Friday night, packing for a long time on Saturday, and then sleeping on the floor with 3 other people that night.  As far as weekends go, it was kind of like college all over again, only I'm way too old for that nonsense.  This morning, I drank my mugs of coffee like they were shots.  Head back, throat open, coffee down.  Repeat.  Even with the extra caffeine booster, I nodded off a couple of times at my desk.  Hopefully tomorrow goes a bit better.

Today was Bubba's first (again) day at daycare.  He hasn't been since before he turned 1.  So it's been a good 9 months or so since he's be able to play with other kids and follow a strict routine throughout the day.  I dropped him off around 6:30, and got him a little acclimated before taking off.  Ben and I picked him up together after Ben got into town and we got the storage unit rented.  The poor thing was quietly reading a book with a teacher, and when he saw us, he burst into tears.  "Mama!"  (cry-cry-cry)  "Daddy!"  (more tears).  It was pretty sad and pathetic.  But he actually had a really good first day.  He had a good nap (we were worried, since he kind of likes to be in the action), and he ate all of his meals.  Nice work!  Hopefully, this turns out to be a good fit.  Sometimes, kids that age just save up all the emotion for when they are comfortable enough to express them, ie, when they are with their parents.  It's nice to know we're still needed.  I guess.

watch me flex

So I got the notice late last week that in order to save some money at the office, we're going to have to flex.  Of course, I immediately get mental images of the guys I work with standing in front of mirrors.  But that's not what HR meant (obviously)...the mental scenario alone was enough for me to want to talk to someone about a hostile work environment.  They meant that we have to take vacation.  And a lot of it.  40 hours between September 10th and March 31st.  Unfortunately, I won't have 40 hours of vacation accrued by then.  Fortunately, they will allow us to use budgeted people who might not actually work in our departments, yet.  So there's a whole person who we will count from September-March.  I think it'll cover all of our flexing, and none of us will actually have to take our shirts off.

Home again, home again jiggity jog

I took a day or so off the blogging to head back to Omaha and help pack the truck before giving my saintly husband a quick kiss as he took off with the moving truck to parts unknown.  Actually, he's heading to these parts.  But he doesn't have a map or any written directions or access to google while driving, so it may as well be unknown for him. 

I took the brutal flight back to Omaha, again, leaving my apartment at 8:20pm, and arriving in Omaha at 7:30am.  I slept more on this go-round than I did the last time, though, which helped me stay awake through a 13 hour day packing boxes and trucks.  Sadly enough, we were about 10 "casemate" boxes short.  If only I had worked at Offwire for one more day...  I guess that's what you get when you have way too much stuff. 

Today, Ben left early (6ish?  maybe earlier?), and the kids and I slept in until 8.  When Scooter got back from church, we picked up a little and then headed to the zoo.  None of us realized that it was halloween day at the zoo.  The place was teaming with children.  We saw a lot of witches, Harry Potters, Iron Men, scream charatcters, etc.  Whenever we couldn't figure out what a costume was, my mom would announce that it was Lady Gaga.  After the 2nd or 3rd time of this, I laughed, and my mom stated quite seriously, "Well...lady gaga has several different 'looks'."  That she does, mom.  Good call.  I'm just not sure that a grown woman with glittery hair and a "wifey for lifey" actually qualifies as dressing up as anything, much less the lady of gaga.

After the zoo and a trip to a park so the kids could get the stink off, we headed to the airport.  I brought Bubba back with me on this trip.  He was a dream on the flights (kind of).  He was a dream for the other passengers, but kind of annoying for his mother.  It was all peek-a-boo and smiles with the lady sitting behind us, which meant a lot of him standing on me or leaning WAAAYY over.  But at least he didn't scream the whole time.  He was a little (a lot) leery when we first arrived to the apartment.  He refused to get out of his stroller.  I finally got the boy in bed, but it was all up-down, roll, giggle for a while.  He's having a hard time of this.  Hopefully, Ben will find these unknown parts tomorrow, so we can get a real spot for Bubba to sleep in.

Genius in the making

I took one of my study guides' practice tests today.  85% is passing, and I got an 87%.  I took 2 points off my total when I checked my answers.  It was a timed practice test.  I had 30 minutes to complete it, and I took 22.  The first one I got wrong, I knew was wrong when I answered it (it was a true/false question), but then I talked myself into leaving it because I wondered if it was a trick.  Oops.  The second one I actually got right.  I had to list and link the tables to create a fake report.  I had all the tables I was supposed to, and I linked 4 of them correctly, but I missed the last one by making it a left outer join instead of a right outer join (which reminds me of a joke, but I'll spare you the groans).  It was a 2 point question, so I took a point off (we're allowed partial credit).  Maybe I should have taken .5 of a point off, but I was being tough.  So I passed.  Kind of. 

The other super smart thing I did today was learned something else new about my iPod.  I've had this thing for about 3 years, now.  It has 3996 songs on it.  On the drive out here 5 weeks ago, I learned how to shuffle the songs.  Although it's about a 24 hour drive, I barely made a dent in the number of songs I heard.  Mostly because I didn't realize that if you shut the iPod off all the way, it resets the shuffle.  Oops.  I learned last week, that if you just PAUSE the song, and the iPod shuts itself off, it'll remember where it was when you turn it back on.  Today, I learned that I can make a playlist on my ipod, without having to go through itunes on my computer.  And not only that, but I can also make it shuffle the playlist.  I know, I know.  Things I probably should have figured out by now, but I'm proud of myself for learning my new-fangled gadgets.  Maybe tomorrow, I'll tackle the pager they issued me at work a month ago...

Is it breezy in here?

Since coming to Portland, my butt has been cold, and not in the "your butt is so stupid" kind of way.  I mean, my rear end has been chilly.  First of all, I don't have any furniture in my house to sit on.  My sister in law was so kind to let me borrow one of her camping chairs, which I've been sitting on everyday.  I have also refused to turn the heat on in here.  I will turn on the baseboard heater in the bedroom when I sleep at night, but other than that, it's pretty cool in the apartment.  One thing I've learned in this experience is that these chairs are breathable.  And my butt gets cold at night. 

During the day, I work.  The office is a large room with 8 other people (give or take, as we work from home 6 days per month).  The room starts out warm in the morning, but by 10 or so, it's pretty cool in there as well.  The boys in the office run 2 fans pretty much all day.  The chairs in the office are those awesome, ergonomic kind that are mesh.  I had one at my old job that had a mesh back, but the seat part was cushioned.  These ones are all mesh.  They're breathable, too.  Extremely breathable.  And my butt is cold during the day.

I'm already paranoid about cool bottoms.  I mean, I did split the bottoms out of 4pairs of pants in a 3 year time span.  I am pretty much an expert on what a cold butt means.  Portland isn't an exceptionally cool place to live, but my backside wouldn't know it.  I might have to start wearing fleece underpants just to regulate my body heat - and protect against anymore accidental moonings.

Good men are hard to find; pennies are not.

My husband has been living in Omaha, with either one or two kids for five weeks, now.  He's working, getting the house packed and ready for sale, and single-handedly raising his son and sometimes step daughter.  I am beyond proud to call him my husband.  We talk everyday.  Multiple times.  He usually calls in the morning to make sure I got up.  Today, I was running late and had JUST gotten up when he called.  I usually call at lunch time and right when I get off work.  And then we talk one or two times in the evening.  I'm pretty sure we'll both have brain tumors when this whole thing is said and done, but it's worth it.  What's that saying?  Absence makes the heart go wander?  Just kidding. 

Today during his lunch, he picked up the moving truck.  This evening, my mom came over as did one of Ben's friends, and they packed all the heavy stuff.  The rest of it will probably get done this weekend, while I'm home.  He has done such an amazing job while under such a tremendous amount of stress.  I can't wait until we can all be together under one roof.

Scooter is coming home tomorrow to say good bye to the nanny.  She doesn't have school, and it's supposed to be a pretty nice day for some bike riding.  She's hoping that more leaves fall off the trees, so she can crunch them with her bike.  I'm excited because that means I might be able to skype with them on Thursday AND Friday, and then I'll be home on Saturday.  This was such a long stretch without seeing my family.


I found a penny on my way home today.  I have found probably $0.45 in mulch beds, and today was more of the same.  I am beginning to wonder if there is some sort of superstition around here regarding putting coins in flower beds.  Like...they are little monuments to someone's dead grandmother or something.  Either that, or the copper in the pennies helps break down dog poo faster.  Eeewwww...

No train

Today was a really nice day out.  After looking at my car this morning and wondering if I should drive, I took the train into work, as usual, and I spent my lunch break outside.  Yesterday, the marketing people sent around emails saying that we should plan our routes home from work carefully, as Obama is in town today to speak at the convention center.  I pretty much ignored the emails, since the convention center is east of my work, and I live to the west.  As it turns out, after the President landed, they stopped train service and bus service around the convention center.  No biggie, right?  Except the train that I take that runs west has to go right by there.  I ended up riding the bus home.  It was a beautiful ride, through the hills. 

The people weren't quite as beautiful, though.  I saw a woman hand her 2 year old son cheetos as a snack, while she poured pepsi into his sippy cup.  I wanted to cry.

I started trying to call Scooter at about 8:20 tonight, since she hadn't called me yet.  A mere 5 calls to various people (including messages left with her dad and her dad's girlfriend) later, Scooter called me around 8:45.  Since it was so late, our call got cut off after about 5 minutes by her dad's girlfriend.  That happened yesterday, too.  Ugh.

Ode to Rob

I went for a run yesterday.  I've been doing this without gusto for a few weeks, now.  Run/walk on M-W-F (except for last week, when I just sat around Wisconsin eating rich food).  Well, yesterday, I walked for a warm-up, and then just ran (well...more like jogged) for 2.5 miles before slowing down to walk a little cool down.  It felt nice, as far as running goes.  I kind of hate running.  A lot.  With gusto.  As I was watching the lights on the treadmill round the track, keeping count of how far I'd gone, I thought about my friend, Rob. 

He used to run marathons.  Fast.  Until he was waylaid by a torn labrum in his hip.  I met him just before his arthroscopic surgery and we became fast friends (or, at least I hoped so).  He's basically the person I've always wanted to be.  Nice, fit, and smart.  Luckily, he's also gay, so there's none of that fear that I'll accidentally become attracted to him.  In the words of Anne of Green Gables, Rob is a kindred spirit.  I keep trying to talk him into running the Portland marathon next year for his triumphant return to the world of marathon running.

So as I was "running," I couldn't help but think that if we were side by side on treadmills, and he was doing his walk a mile, run 1/4 mile routine, he'd still be beating me.  Oh well.  At least I was trying.

Today was kind of a bad day.  The weather was beautiful, but I got some bad news this afternoon.  **Insert recent developments in my life here.**  Kind of a bummer, but again, I thought about Rob and had to smile.  Instead of all the actual poetic "good thoughts" I've already posted and could have thought to myself, all I could really think was, "well...at least a monkey didn't rip off my hands and face."  It's a little gem that Rob used to tell me if I was having a bad day, and it would always cheer me up.  Because seriously...at least a monkey didn't rip off my hands and face.