Yesterday was kind of stressful (they all are, recently). But it was also pretty good. The weather was fantastic. The nice thing about Portland is that the weather is steady-eddie. I understand Omaha has had some really nice weather this spring. The difference is that it will return to sub-30s weather in a heartbeat.
On my way into work, I stumbled across a nickel. I immediately wondered if nickels provide 5 times as much luck as a penny because we'd need a little luck that day. We were to have a hearing with the judge and opposing counsel to hammer out some details of the ruling. It turned out that it didn't really matter because 4 blocks later, I struck pay-dirt. As I bent down to pick up a penny, I saw 8 others. 14 cents on my way into work isn't a bad way to start the day! When I told Ben about it, he informed me that he had also found a penny. If a nickel wasn't going to give us much luck, surely 10 pennies would.
And maybe it did? The ex's lawyer was a no-show for the hearing. She had originally said that she might be there in person (it was a telephonic hearing), but she wasn't. She also wasn't available by phone when my lawyer, and later the judge's office tried calling. She has to know that it doesn't reflect well on their side when she misses hearings. And this isn't the only one she's missed (or been late to). She was late to her own appointment when we did interrogatories. Sheesh!
My lawyer called to discuss. I asked a million questions about what they *could* do and what we can do to mitigate that. I asked about the cost of all of this. It has been a struggle, that's for sure. For going on 8 months, now, we've maintained 2 households, we've paid for at least 16 round trip tickets to and from Omaha, and paid a full year of Ben's take home pay to a lawyer. Luckily, Bubba's daycare is also higher and we've had almost $2,000 in car repairs. Oh, wait. Seriously, though, putting it all out there is pretty impressive. We've done this on our savings. What despairs me is the thought that there are women (and men) out there who would like to better their lives, but do not have the means to fight lengthy court battles. I still think that one party (not mine) is just trying to outlast the other. One party (not mine) makes more than the other and has not had the burden of mortgage, rent, plane tickets, etc that the other has. But you know what? Right is right. Might is not always right. So we will not be outlasted. We will not fold under the pressure. Sure, our savings is nearly depleted, but we're going to be OK.
The end is in sight. We'll pay a few thousand dollars for the order to be drafted and our time to be wasted by opposing party. We'll pay a few more thousand for the appeal (he's "definitely" going to appeal). And we'll pay about $9,000 out of pocket when we sell our house. But then it's done. Then, we can start saving, again. I hope. If we're not forced to declare bankruptcy before then. Bright side: we don't have to move back to Omaha and be jobless anytime soon. We wouldn't be homeless, as my friend Rob has offered his transient-people living space to us if we have to move back. We'd have been squatters, padlocked into his basement, but at least we'd have been warm (or cool...depending on the season). No. We're staying put. We are standing our ground. You can't scare us anymore.
And we're going to continue to pick up pennies.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Cortisol: it's what's for dinner
It is not possible for life to be easy. We all should know that by now, right? But, alas, I am an optimist. I guess I should start up again where we left off on the last post. We made it home from Disneyland after finding out we won our court case.
I called the ex to see if I could just keep Scooter out here and start her in school. I was told 'no.' (there were other words, too, but this is a family blog). So Scooter and I flew back to Omaha early on Saturday morning. On the way back, I asked Scooter what her favorite part of the trip was
S: Right now, sitting quietly with you. Oh, wait. No. The trip out with Ben.
Me: Seriously? We went to Disneyland and the beach!
S: I know. But with Ben, the trip was just beginning.
Ugh. Let's get ice cream.
The in-laws picked us up in Omaha, and we spent the rest of the day playing games and smiling. After dinner, we took Scooter back to her dad's. His car was parked in front of the house. The door to the house was locked, so we had to ring the doorbell. I gave Scooter a quick hug and kiss before the door opened, and Vicky pulled Scooter inside and grabbed the backpack out of my hand.
Awkward. The ex was no where to be seen. Apparently, not man enough to face the wicked witch of the west (that's me, in case you're wondering).
This interesting dance contest we're in keeps getting faster and more complicated. Or at least more heated and expensive. I was informed today that he's "definitely" going to appeal. I kind of already figured that. I kind of am not looking forward to the expense of defending an appeal. Or the time and worry. Or any of it. I never wanted to go to court. I don't know how it is possible that 2 grown adults are unable to interact. I guess it requires 2 grown adults to actually want to engage in an open, HONEST dialog. It gets harder when one of those adults is completely unable to be honest.
The bright side is that I have a lawyer who has a firm grasp of reality and caselaw...
I called the ex to see if I could just keep Scooter out here and start her in school. I was told 'no.' (there were other words, too, but this is a family blog). So Scooter and I flew back to Omaha early on Saturday morning. On the way back, I asked Scooter what her favorite part of the trip was
S: Right now, sitting quietly with you. Oh, wait. No. The trip out with Ben.
Me: Seriously? We went to Disneyland and the beach!
S: I know. But with Ben, the trip was just beginning.
Ugh. Let's get ice cream.
The in-laws picked us up in Omaha, and we spent the rest of the day playing games and smiling. After dinner, we took Scooter back to her dad's. His car was parked in front of the house. The door to the house was locked, so we had to ring the doorbell. I gave Scooter a quick hug and kiss before the door opened, and Vicky pulled Scooter inside and grabbed the backpack out of my hand.
 |
| Vicky |
This interesting dance contest we're in keeps getting faster and more complicated. Or at least more heated and expensive. I was informed today that he's "definitely" going to appeal. I kind of already figured that. I kind of am not looking forward to the expense of defending an appeal. Or the time and worry. Or any of it. I never wanted to go to court. I don't know how it is possible that 2 grown adults are unable to interact. I guess it requires 2 grown adults to actually want to engage in an open, HONEST dialog. It gets harder when one of those adults is completely unable to be honest.
The bright side is that I have a lawyer who has a firm grasp of reality and caselaw...
Monday, March 28, 2011
The drive back...
We checked out of our hotel on Wednesday and headed up to Seal Beach. We didn't see any seals, so we drove down PCH to Huntington Beach, CA. It was a nice drive down to the beach. We parked and walked along the beach for a while. The kids stuck their feet in the freezing Pacific, and we watched a little bit of a surfing competition while finding seashells along the shore. After that, we drove through Huntington Beach to look at where my sister used to live and their nice beach-town main street area. And then we were off to Chico to pick up our car.
We got in around 8, and went promptly to bed. Tired kids + tired parents = sleepy time! Plus...there's not a whole lot to do in Chico at 8pm with 2 tired children. We got up on Thursday, drove the rental car to the transmission place, where we found out they came in about $300 under the estimate! yay!! We drove back to the hotel for free breakfast, and then over to the rental car place to drop off the car and move everything that was left in the rental over to our car, which was purring like a kitten.
Back at the hotel, we were cleaning up the car a little (we had just kind of thrown everything in from the rental) when my phone rang. It was buried in my backpack, and when I went to grab it out, I hit something, and the phone stopped ringing. I had no idea who had called. I looked up my missed calls and incoming calls, and they were both the ex, so I called him back. No answer. Whatever. We went back to consolidating the explosion in my car into neat(er) piles. Ben's phone rang. Nobody recognized the number, but Ben answered anyway. It was our lawyer. My ears perked up.
Ben: Yes?
Ben: And?
He gave me a thumbs up and a big smile. I didn't want to assume anything, but my stomach immediately turned over. He said, 'Wow. that's just great news.' And I lost it. I grabbed the kids and started sobbing. Scooter asked me what's wrong, and Bubba kept saying, "sah-wee, mama!" like he did something really bad. I told them that I wasn't sad, but that Iwas just so happy. Scooter asked why, and I told her that I *thought* we won, and she might be able to move with us. We were standing in the rain in the parking lot of the Holiday Inn in Chico, California, and I was crying and hugging the kids. I decided to move that mess inside. We went to the room, and in order to stop acting crazy and scaring the kids, I started packing up our stuff. Scooter and Bubba were laughing and hugging and running around the room. Scooter said, 'See, mom! I told you the judge would let me move with you!'
Ben came in, after realizing that he was also standing in the rain and we were no where to be found. He handed me the phone. There was much celebrating going on in Omaha on his end of the line. He had everyone in his office on a conference line with us. I was already crying when he told me the news himself. He said he'd send me an email with the documents from the judge to read over. It was just the opinion; we still had to draft the order for him to sign and get it filed with the state. If it were just us and the judge, my lawyer said he could get it done by early this week, however, we have to continue to work with the ex's lawyer for her review/sign off on the order, so it would take probably 3-4 weeks to complete. I asked if I could just keep Scooter out here until that was done, and he said I would need the ex's permission, but if he were smart, that wouldn't be a problem.
In the meantime, I had pulled up my email, opened the findings, and let Ben read through it. I turned on some cartoons for the kids, and Scooter was sitting nicely with her stuffed animals. Bubba was running and shreiking and laughing and trashing the hotel room like a rock star. At one point, he had climbed up on top of the desk. Standing on the desk, he started throwing it's contents around the room. He knocked a chair over. He stripped the beds of their bedding and pillows and scattered them around. It was time to get back on the road.
We hit rain and snow the whole way, and had to chain up again in Northern California. Again, as with the drive down, as soon as we were in Oregon, the sun was out and roads were dry. But the damage was done. We had lost 2 hours putting chains on and waiting in 2 checkpoint lines in California, and we didn't get home until after 9. But we were home. And we won. For the moment, anyway...
We got in around 8, and went promptly to bed. Tired kids + tired parents = sleepy time! Plus...there's not a whole lot to do in Chico at 8pm with 2 tired children. We got up on Thursday, drove the rental car to the transmission place, where we found out they came in about $300 under the estimate! yay!! We drove back to the hotel for free breakfast, and then over to the rental car place to drop off the car and move everything that was left in the rental over to our car, which was purring like a kitten.
Back at the hotel, we were cleaning up the car a little (we had just kind of thrown everything in from the rental) when my phone rang. It was buried in my backpack, and when I went to grab it out, I hit something, and the phone stopped ringing. I had no idea who had called. I looked up my missed calls and incoming calls, and they were both the ex, so I called him back. No answer. Whatever. We went back to consolidating the explosion in my car into neat(er) piles. Ben's phone rang. Nobody recognized the number, but Ben answered anyway. It was our lawyer. My ears perked up.
Ben: Yes?
Ben: And?
He gave me a thumbs up and a big smile. I didn't want to assume anything, but my stomach immediately turned over. He said, 'Wow. that's just great news.' And I lost it. I grabbed the kids and started sobbing. Scooter asked me what's wrong, and Bubba kept saying, "sah-wee, mama!" like he did something really bad. I told them that I wasn't sad, but that Iwas just so happy. Scooter asked why, and I told her that I *thought* we won, and she might be able to move with us. We were standing in the rain in the parking lot of the Holiday Inn in Chico, California, and I was crying and hugging the kids. I decided to move that mess inside. We went to the room, and in order to stop acting crazy and scaring the kids, I started packing up our stuff. Scooter and Bubba were laughing and hugging and running around the room. Scooter said, 'See, mom! I told you the judge would let me move with you!'
Ben came in, after realizing that he was also standing in the rain and we were no where to be found. He handed me the phone. There was much celebrating going on in Omaha on his end of the line. He had everyone in his office on a conference line with us. I was already crying when he told me the news himself. He said he'd send me an email with the documents from the judge to read over. It was just the opinion; we still had to draft the order for him to sign and get it filed with the state. If it were just us and the judge, my lawyer said he could get it done by early this week, however, we have to continue to work with the ex's lawyer for her review/sign off on the order, so it would take probably 3-4 weeks to complete. I asked if I could just keep Scooter out here until that was done, and he said I would need the ex's permission, but if he were smart, that wouldn't be a problem.
In the meantime, I had pulled up my email, opened the findings, and let Ben read through it. I turned on some cartoons for the kids, and Scooter was sitting nicely with her stuffed animals. Bubba was running and shreiking and laughing and trashing the hotel room like a rock star. At one point, he had climbed up on top of the desk. Standing on the desk, he started throwing it's contents around the room. He knocked a chair over. He stripped the beds of their bedding and pillows and scattered them around. It was time to get back on the road.
We hit rain and snow the whole way, and had to chain up again in Northern California. Again, as with the drive down, as soon as we were in Oregon, the sun was out and roads were dry. But the damage was done. We had lost 2 hours putting chains on and waiting in 2 checkpoint lines in California, and we didn't get home until after 9. But we were home. And we won. For the moment, anyway...
Friday, March 25, 2011
The Happiest Place on Earth
Monday and Tuesday were spent at Disneyland. We got up early on Monday, ate breakfast and got ready for the day, and walked from our hotel to Disneyland in under 10 minutes - with kids and with me forgetting the tickets and Ben having to run back for them (oops). We breezed into the park with 15 minutes to wait until they let us roam free. We were coralled on main street and encouraged to shop, but we refrained in lieu of keeping our "place" in "line." At 9am sharp, the buzzer sounded, and the running of the bulls began...er...Disneyland officially opened to the public and everyone was very orderly in walking to their first attraction. I was only run over by one stroller. I managed to not run over anyone with our stroller.
Our first ride was the Finding Nemo submarines. When we were kids, this was the Captain Nemo 20,000 leagues under the sea ride. It's much, much cooler now, although there is a nod to the old ride in some of the crew commentary. We did a little research prior to our trip and concluded that if we wanted to ride the Nemo ride, it had to be done first thing. Those tipsters were correct. Shortly after our ride, the line was over an hour long. After that, we headed to Buzz Lightyear's Astro Blasters. This is perhaps the most fun ride to go on. Not only can you control your car's turning (left and right), but you also get to shoot targets. This is another ride that usually has long lines. We were extremely lucky to basically walk right in and sit down in our cars. We split 2 and 2 so that each person would be able to have a gun. Yeah, we're totally violent like that.
After that, we walked through Fantasyland on our way to Toon Town. In Fantasyland, the peter pan ride already had a 45 minute line, so we walked right into the Snow White ride and the Pinocchio ride. We then walked right into the It's a Small World ride. In all, we got in 5 rides in different areas in the park in the first hour we were there. Back in Toon Town, we explored Chip n' Dale's treehouse, and got a fastpass ticket for Roger Rabbit's Car Toon Spin. We rode the Gadge Go-Coaster, which is a baby roller coaster (you have to be 35 inches to ride, Bubba is 36). We toured Mickey's house, and only waited for about 10 minutes to meet Mickey himself (photo to follow). Scooter was amazed that Mickey was wearing a suit, since every other time she sees him, he's only wearing yellow shoes and red shorts - no shirt. I told her that when Mickey has guests, he likes to dress up...?? Who knows.
When we were done meeting Mickey, Minnie was taking visitors in the street beside her house. The cast member who was working crowd control had already cut off the line to meet her, so we headed back to Roger Rabbit's ride. It started drizzling on our walk over. With our fastpass, we were able to walk right onto the ride. By the time we were done, it was full-fledged raining. Ben ran to get $26 worth of ponchos while the kids and I waited under a bridge. After that, we decided it was time for lunch and naps. We left the park and walked back to the hotel. After naps, it was sunny and beautiful out.
We headed back to the park, where we walked right into Pirates of the Caribbean and Scooter and I walked right into the Haunted Mansion. It started out scary (thanks, adult passengers), but turned out to be so fun that Scooter wanted to take her little brother on the ride again. We declined, and headed to Winnie the Pooh's ride.
We did some souvenier shopping, and ate some dinner, and enjoyed fire works and Casey Jr's train ride. We also hit Dumbo's flying ride and Mr. Toad's wild ride before heading home for the night.
The second morning was much like the first. On our walk over to the park, Ben removed his long-sleeved shirt from my backpack and I joked that I felt 10 pounds heavier. Scooter's response? "No. You look the same as you did yesterday, except your hair is frizzier." One thing about kids is that they'll always keep you grounded...
Tuesday at the park is an early-entrance day for certain ticket holders. That means that the park was already crowded when it "opened," and we had many more lines to stand in. We sucked it up and waited 30 minutes for the Peter Pan ride. We saw Peter flirting with park guests and running around while we were in line. After the ride, we spotted him again, and took off after him, but we couldn't catch him. It'd be cool to be Peter Pan. You never have to stop and talk to guests, and you're allowed to run in the park.
We hit up Autopia after our chase, and finished up what was left of Toon Town. We also hit the Jungle Cruise and the Enchanted Tiki room as well as got our fastpass tickets for Space Mountain before we left for lunch and naps. When we got our fastpass at 11am, they were already giving out return times of between 6 and 7pm. The wait in the regular line was 75 minutes.
After nap and some pool time, the park was still just as crowded as ever. We rode Space Mountain (Scooter, who "HATES" roller coasters LOVED it). Bubba wasn't allowed to ride, but we were able to use a baby-handoff ticket, which allowed Scooter to ride twice while Ben and I handed off our baby so we each could ride. They never confiscated our baby-handoff ticket, so in theory, we could have gone up the exit over and over again. We were honest, though, and did not.
Bubba could ride the Matterhorn with us, and he LOVED it. Scooter, surprisingly, was also impressed with the Matterhorn. Lovely! We filled our time with another ride on Pooh and then watched more fireworks and most of Fanstasmic, which I would highly recommend as a must-see. We snuck into Pirates again before the Fantasmic crowd rushed in, and then did some souvenier shopping and toured Sleeping Beauty's castle to round out the night. The one bummer was that about 1/2 way through Fantasmic, we realized that we were down wind from a couple of smokers who were lighting up in an un-authorized area. When Ben asked them about it, they were quite rude, and we ended up moving. Ugh. But overall, the Disneyland experience was all that we had hoped for. Wonderful!
Our first ride was the Finding Nemo submarines. When we were kids, this was the Captain Nemo 20,000 leagues under the sea ride. It's much, much cooler now, although there is a nod to the old ride in some of the crew commentary. We did a little research prior to our trip and concluded that if we wanted to ride the Nemo ride, it had to be done first thing. Those tipsters were correct. Shortly after our ride, the line was over an hour long. After that, we headed to Buzz Lightyear's Astro Blasters. This is perhaps the most fun ride to go on. Not only can you control your car's turning (left and right), but you also get to shoot targets. This is another ride that usually has long lines. We were extremely lucky to basically walk right in and sit down in our cars. We split 2 and 2 so that each person would be able to have a gun. Yeah, we're totally violent like that.
After that, we walked through Fantasyland on our way to Toon Town. In Fantasyland, the peter pan ride already had a 45 minute line, so we walked right into the Snow White ride and the Pinocchio ride. We then walked right into the It's a Small World ride. In all, we got in 5 rides in different areas in the park in the first hour we were there. Back in Toon Town, we explored Chip n' Dale's treehouse, and got a fastpass ticket for Roger Rabbit's Car Toon Spin. We rode the Gadge Go-Coaster, which is a baby roller coaster (you have to be 35 inches to ride, Bubba is 36). We toured Mickey's house, and only waited for about 10 minutes to meet Mickey himself (photo to follow). Scooter was amazed that Mickey was wearing a suit, since every other time she sees him, he's only wearing yellow shoes and red shorts - no shirt. I told her that when Mickey has guests, he likes to dress up...?? Who knows.
When we were done meeting Mickey, Minnie was taking visitors in the street beside her house. The cast member who was working crowd control had already cut off the line to meet her, so we headed back to Roger Rabbit's ride. It started drizzling on our walk over. With our fastpass, we were able to walk right onto the ride. By the time we were done, it was full-fledged raining. Ben ran to get $26 worth of ponchos while the kids and I waited under a bridge. After that, we decided it was time for lunch and naps. We left the park and walked back to the hotel. After naps, it was sunny and beautiful out.
We headed back to the park, where we walked right into Pirates of the Caribbean and Scooter and I walked right into the Haunted Mansion. It started out scary (thanks, adult passengers), but turned out to be so fun that Scooter wanted to take her little brother on the ride again. We declined, and headed to Winnie the Pooh's ride.
We did some souvenier shopping, and ate some dinner, and enjoyed fire works and Casey Jr's train ride. We also hit Dumbo's flying ride and Mr. Toad's wild ride before heading home for the night.
The second morning was much like the first. On our walk over to the park, Ben removed his long-sleeved shirt from my backpack and I joked that I felt 10 pounds heavier. Scooter's response? "No. You look the same as you did yesterday, except your hair is frizzier." One thing about kids is that they'll always keep you grounded...
Tuesday at the park is an early-entrance day for certain ticket holders. That means that the park was already crowded when it "opened," and we had many more lines to stand in. We sucked it up and waited 30 minutes for the Peter Pan ride. We saw Peter flirting with park guests and running around while we were in line. After the ride, we spotted him again, and took off after him, but we couldn't catch him. It'd be cool to be Peter Pan. You never have to stop and talk to guests, and you're allowed to run in the park.
We hit up Autopia after our chase, and finished up what was left of Toon Town. We also hit the Jungle Cruise and the Enchanted Tiki room as well as got our fastpass tickets for Space Mountain before we left for lunch and naps. When we got our fastpass at 11am, they were already giving out return times of between 6 and 7pm. The wait in the regular line was 75 minutes.
After nap and some pool time, the park was still just as crowded as ever. We rode Space Mountain (Scooter, who "HATES" roller coasters LOVED it). Bubba wasn't allowed to ride, but we were able to use a baby-handoff ticket, which allowed Scooter to ride twice while Ben and I handed off our baby so we each could ride. They never confiscated our baby-handoff ticket, so in theory, we could have gone up the exit over and over again. We were honest, though, and did not.
Bubba could ride the Matterhorn with us, and he LOVED it. Scooter, surprisingly, was also impressed with the Matterhorn. Lovely! We filled our time with another ride on Pooh and then watched more fireworks and most of Fanstasmic, which I would highly recommend as a must-see. We snuck into Pirates again before the Fantasmic crowd rushed in, and then did some souvenier shopping and toured Sleeping Beauty's castle to round out the night. The one bummer was that about 1/2 way through Fantasmic, we realized that we were down wind from a couple of smokers who were lighting up in an un-authorized area. When Ben asked them about it, they were quite rude, and we ended up moving. Ugh. But overall, the Disneyland experience was all that we had hoped for. Wonderful!
Driving rain
I haven't blogged in a week. Sorry about that. I was off galavanting along the west coast. Ben picked up Scooter for spring break on Friday after school, and they flew back here together. Saturday, we took off for Disneyland. We waited until after the breakfast stop to tell Scooter the news. I'll have to post video of her reaction later.
We hit snow in the Cascades in northern California. We had to put tire chains on my car. I've never done that before, and it wasn't fun or comfortable. I had wet pants for the rest of the day. That's not the worst of it. Our transmission crapped out somewhere just south of the mountains. Actually, we were right next to a rest stop near Orland, CA. Ben never could remember the name of that town. We called Les Schwab, mostly because they were open and they have a reputation of being extremely service-oriented. Also, we thought at the time that our new brakes were the problem, since the engine idled fine, went into all the gears with no issue, and really only sounded like it had a problem when we were braking. Les directed us to a towing company, and Ben, Scooter, Bubba and I had our first ride in a giant big-rig tow truck. He took us to Les Schwab, and we sat in their waiting area for about 2 hours. Maybe closer to 3 hours. Either way, the poor employees of that tire and brake company had to listen and watch as 2 stir crazy children wreaked havoc on their waiting area. All the other garages in town were closed. There was only 1 car rental company open on Sunday, and that was in Chico, CA (about 25 miles away). We got everything out of our car, hopped into a taxi and took off for Chico. Les Schwab doesn't do tranmission service, but they diagnosed the problem, and coordinated the storage and transport of our car to the transmission mechanic in our absence on Sunday so we could still go to Disneyland with the kids - for free. Kudos to them!
Sunday, we got up, and Ben walked almost 2 miles to the car rental place. It didn't open until 9am, so we got kind of a late start. We drove through crazy rain all the way to our hotel in Anaheim. Reports of people not being able to drive in rain in Southern California are not exaggerated. We saw a truck who had driven off the interstate and 1/2 way down a 400 foot drop off for no reason. We also heard a radio report of a driver who had mistakenly driven his car off an overpass onto another interstate below, causing traffic delays on 2 separate highways. We still somehow made it to our hotel, and soon after, were graced with the presence (and presents) of two dear friends. An exciting drive down, for sure! You might think that Disneyland would pale in comparison...
We hit snow in the Cascades in northern California. We had to put tire chains on my car. I've never done that before, and it wasn't fun or comfortable. I had wet pants for the rest of the day. That's not the worst of it. Our transmission crapped out somewhere just south of the mountains. Actually, we were right next to a rest stop near Orland, CA. Ben never could remember the name of that town. We called Les Schwab, mostly because they were open and they have a reputation of being extremely service-oriented. Also, we thought at the time that our new brakes were the problem, since the engine idled fine, went into all the gears with no issue, and really only sounded like it had a problem when we were braking. Les directed us to a towing company, and Ben, Scooter, Bubba and I had our first ride in a giant big-rig tow truck. He took us to Les Schwab, and we sat in their waiting area for about 2 hours. Maybe closer to 3 hours. Either way, the poor employees of that tire and brake company had to listen and watch as 2 stir crazy children wreaked havoc on their waiting area. All the other garages in town were closed. There was only 1 car rental company open on Sunday, and that was in Chico, CA (about 25 miles away). We got everything out of our car, hopped into a taxi and took off for Chico. Les Schwab doesn't do tranmission service, but they diagnosed the problem, and coordinated the storage and transport of our car to the transmission mechanic in our absence on Sunday so we could still go to Disneyland with the kids - for free. Kudos to them!
Sunday, we got up, and Ben walked almost 2 miles to the car rental place. It didn't open until 9am, so we got kind of a late start. We drove through crazy rain all the way to our hotel in Anaheim. Reports of people not being able to drive in rain in Southern California are not exaggerated. We saw a truck who had driven off the interstate and 1/2 way down a 400 foot drop off for no reason. We also heard a radio report of a driver who had mistakenly driven his car off an overpass onto another interstate below, causing traffic delays on 2 separate highways. We still somehow made it to our hotel, and soon after, were graced with the presence (and presents) of two dear friends. An exciting drive down, for sure! You might think that Disneyland would pale in comparison...
Friday, March 18, 2011
Disaster
So I realize that I'm totally self-absorbed. I would venture a guess that any blogger that writes about their own life is at least a little self-absorbed. That's the concept, and although I do try to self-censor (by not posting my children's actual names, by not writing as detailed as I would - or do - in my regular journal, etc) I am still writing about what's going on in my life. So...it's going to be all about me. And me right now is completely obsessed with the earthquake/tsunami/nuclear disaster in Japan.
I'm not really sure why. I mean, I do have Japanese ancestry, but I don't personally have family that I know in Japan. I'm not a scholar on Japan. I don't pretend to be any expert on their culture or history (although I can make a mean miso and roll a fairly good spicy tuna roll). But I am feeling very deeply for the people of Japan. I feel more emotionally involved than I did during the Haitian crisis last year, and even more involved than I did about the Katrina hurricane, which struck the US.
I've been trying to figure out why I'm so moved by these series of events. Part of me thinks it's because I've visited Japan. Except...I only visited Tokyo (and Camp Zama about 30 miles southwest of Tokyo). I thought perhaps it had something to do with my ancestry. But let's be honest...do 1/2 Germans, with 4 generations between them and immigration really feel that strong a tie to Germany? I doubt it.
I think I actually feel this strongly because of stories like this. It's how I've been feeling for the past 6 months. I just want my family back, and it feels hopeless sometimes, but I'm still going.
And since I do feel so strongly, I would be remiss if I didn't post a way for everyone else to help the people of Japan. The pace of donations to aid organizations is much slower for Japan than it was for Haiti last year. It's disheartening. I've given what we can (which isn't much considering the house payment, rent, storage space, child support, daycare and flights back and forth to Omaha...). You should, too.
I'm not really sure why. I mean, I do have Japanese ancestry, but I don't personally have family that I know in Japan. I'm not a scholar on Japan. I don't pretend to be any expert on their culture or history (although I can make a mean miso and roll a fairly good spicy tuna roll). But I am feeling very deeply for the people of Japan. I feel more emotionally involved than I did during the Haitian crisis last year, and even more involved than I did about the Katrina hurricane, which struck the US.
I've been trying to figure out why I'm so moved by these series of events. Part of me thinks it's because I've visited Japan. Except...I only visited Tokyo (and Camp Zama about 30 miles southwest of Tokyo). I thought perhaps it had something to do with my ancestry. But let's be honest...do 1/2 Germans, with 4 generations between them and immigration really feel that strong a tie to Germany? I doubt it.
I think I actually feel this strongly because of stories like this. It's how I've been feeling for the past 6 months. I just want my family back, and it feels hopeless sometimes, but I'm still going.
And since I do feel so strongly, I would be remiss if I didn't post a way for everyone else to help the people of Japan. The pace of donations to aid organizations is much slower for Japan than it was for Haiti last year. It's disheartening. I've given what we can (which isn't much considering the house payment, rent, storage space, child support, daycare and flights back and forth to Omaha...). You should, too.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Coming Clean
I watch a lot of TV. I'll admit it. Ben and I put the boy to bed, and for the next couple of hours (or sometimes, just one), I'll sit in front of the tube and veg out. Monday, nothing is on, and it's a struggle to find something worth watching. Tuesday is the Biggest Loser. Wednesday is The Middle and Modern Family night. Thursday is Community, The Office, and 30 Rock. There's some dumb show in between during which I usually clean the kitchen or shower. Friday? Either Suppernanny or we just go to bed. By Friday, we're usually pretty tired.
Well, anyway, a few weeks ago, there was an episode of The Middle in which it comes to light that the main character told her (now) husband that she had liked a certain movie (Resevoir Dogs) that they saw on their first date. It was the reason why he asked her out for a second one. She, in "real" life, hated the movie, and almost didn't go on that second date b/c what kind of guy would like that movie. She admitted, after years of marriage, that she hated that movie, and hilarity ensued. It got me to thinking...
When Ben and I first started dating, he recommended that I read a book - one of his favorites. It was The Orchid Thief by Susan Orlean. It was an extremely well written book, yes. But I didn't like it. At the time, I told him it was good, but I found it to be boring. I mostly found it so because it was hard for me to read. Don't get me wrong, I'm an intelligent (so I like to think) person, but for some reason, the book seemed too lofty a read for me. I slogged through the whole book because I'm the kind of person, who once I commit to something, likes to see things through to the end. I came clean last night.
Ben was flabbergasted. I didn't like it?! Luckily, he didn't base our relationship on my liking that book (unlike 'The Bachelor,' on which he totally could have not selected me for a rose based on that fact...).
I've found a new way to walk to work. I've been walking that route to work for a few weeks, now, and I think it's faster. I just started walking that way home from work yesterday. Every street either has a stop sign or light with a cross walk, which, if timed correctly, I can walk through without a stop. Portland really is walker-friendly.
Today on my lunch walk, I went past a vintage clothing store that I found on Monday. After 3 days of it being closed (for lunch?) during my walk, it was open today. I didn't stop in, though, as I decided to do a quick walk rather than a long lunch and I didn't want to take the time. I will go in someday, though. It looks like a cool little store. They had a sign posted on their door today advertising a concert/private party (byob). I thought it was hilarious that they'd post a by-invitation-only party in a public place. Hey! Here's a party that you're not invited to. Just thought you should know...
Well, anyway, a few weeks ago, there was an episode of The Middle in which it comes to light that the main character told her (now) husband that she had liked a certain movie (Resevoir Dogs) that they saw on their first date. It was the reason why he asked her out for a second one. She, in "real" life, hated the movie, and almost didn't go on that second date b/c what kind of guy would like that movie. She admitted, after years of marriage, that she hated that movie, and hilarity ensued. It got me to thinking...
When Ben and I first started dating, he recommended that I read a book - one of his favorites. It was The Orchid Thief by Susan Orlean. It was an extremely well written book, yes. But I didn't like it. At the time, I told him it was good, but I found it to be boring. I mostly found it so because it was hard for me to read. Don't get me wrong, I'm an intelligent (so I like to think) person, but for some reason, the book seemed too lofty a read for me. I slogged through the whole book because I'm the kind of person, who once I commit to something, likes to see things through to the end. I came clean last night.
Ben was flabbergasted. I didn't like it?! Luckily, he didn't base our relationship on my liking that book (unlike 'The Bachelor,' on which he totally could have not selected me for a rose based on that fact...).
I've found a new way to walk to work. I've been walking that route to work for a few weeks, now, and I think it's faster. I just started walking that way home from work yesterday. Every street either has a stop sign or light with a cross walk, which, if timed correctly, I can walk through without a stop. Portland really is walker-friendly.
Today on my lunch walk, I went past a vintage clothing store that I found on Monday. After 3 days of it being closed (for lunch?) during my walk, it was open today. I didn't stop in, though, as I decided to do a quick walk rather than a long lunch and I didn't want to take the time. I will go in someday, though. It looks like a cool little store. They had a sign posted on their door today advertising a concert/private party (byob). I thought it was hilarious that they'd post a by-invitation-only party in a public place. Hey! Here's a party that you're not invited to. Just thought you should know...
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Walkin' in the Rain
I walk on my lunch break. I don't really take long, maybe 20 minutes, but it's enough to get me out of the building and into fresh air. Even though Portland is rainy this time of year, there are a surprising number of "sun breaks" in the middle of the day - just in time for me to head outside for a spell. All winter long, it's been in the high 30s to low 40s (now it's even warmer), which is perfect for a midwesterner like me to hang out on the sidewalks. I don't freak out and power walk or anything. I don't even change out of my work shoes into my rain boots. I just head outside and stroll around a few blocks. It's nice. Except when I'm 6 blocks away from work, and it starts raining, like it did today. Meh. At least I got outside for a minute.
Yesterday, I saw a woman who works in this building. She had changed into work-out clothes before leaving. The people around here have really nice gym gear. Maybe it's the "outdoor" lifestyle of the northwest, or maybe everyone I see working out is richer than me. Either way, she had really nice duds on, and a good pair of running shoes. The only problem (besides wearing that at work...why not change at the gym?) was that she was waiting for the world's slowest elevator to take her down 1 flight of stairs. I had my galoshes on and work pants (which is also probably not appropriate for the office), but I beat her out the door. It really bothers me when people who seemingly work out take short cuts like that. What's the point of going to the gym (or going for a run outside) if you're not going to make the choice in your everyday life to take the stairs? It'd be like me deciding to start driving to work because I now do cardio in the mornings and I don't want to walk 2 miles for my commute, anymore. I guess it's her right to wait for a slow elevator. I shouldn't judge her for it. I just don't get it.
I was planning on finishing this post up yesterday, but I never got around to it. I did get around to stalking my friend's kodak gallery for "scared yet hopeful" pics. I updated that blog with one. I also found this gem. I can't wait to have short hair again...please excuse the horrible sweater/facial expression. It was a few (5.5) years ago, and I was laughing uncontrollably.
Yesterday, I saw a woman who works in this building. She had changed into work-out clothes before leaving. The people around here have really nice gym gear. Maybe it's the "outdoor" lifestyle of the northwest, or maybe everyone I see working out is richer than me. Either way, she had really nice duds on, and a good pair of running shoes. The only problem (besides wearing that at work...why not change at the gym?) was that she was waiting for the world's slowest elevator to take her down 1 flight of stairs. I had my galoshes on and work pants (which is also probably not appropriate for the office), but I beat her out the door. It really bothers me when people who seemingly work out take short cuts like that. What's the point of going to the gym (or going for a run outside) if you're not going to make the choice in your everyday life to take the stairs? It'd be like me deciding to start driving to work because I now do cardio in the mornings and I don't want to walk 2 miles for my commute, anymore. I guess it's her right to wait for a slow elevator. I shouldn't judge her for it. I just don't get it.
I was planning on finishing this post up yesterday, but I never got around to it. I did get around to stalking my friend's kodak gallery for "scared yet hopeful" pics. I updated that blog with one. I also found this gem. I can't wait to have short hair again...please excuse the horrible sweater/facial expression. It was a few (5.5) years ago, and I was laughing uncontrollably.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Let's get Motivated!
Portland had some motivational thing at the Rose Garden Arena yesterday. It was an all-day type of thing with Giuliani. It didn't mean much for me, other than slower trains in the morning, but it did make for an additional 45-60 minutes drive for my coworkers who don't take mass transit. Aparently, it was geared toward the unemployed of Portland (there's a lot of them), but then event organizers basically were trying to sell the people with tickets stuff that they probably don't need or can't afford. Sad, really.
I swam a long, long way this weekend. Like...4500 meters. So...around 2.5 miles? Maybe a little more? It was grand. 100 laps on Saturday and 80 on Sunday. I wish I could swim everyday. But I guess if I swam everyday, I wouldn't get any better at anything else. So I'm back to biking and running in the mornings, and boy are my arms tired. My legs are, too (I've already posted about that), but biking and running really makes my arms tired. Like...I get to work, and I have a hard time holding the door open for people behind me. Maybe I'm just inconsiderate.
So last night, I'm ashamed to admit that Ben and I watched a portion of the Bachelor. I've never seen a full episode of that show, but there really is nothing else as entertaining to watch on Monday evenings. It was the proposal/after show reunion episode, and boy was it dumb. The whole premise of that show is unreal. 1 guy dates 30 girls at the same time, weeding them out one by one and then marries one of them? The one nice thing about that show is that it really opens up a dialogue between my husband and myself. We comment on what we're seeing, and then it just leads to conversations about all sorts of things. His perspective is interesting, and he respects my opinions. Gee. It's almost like we're in a solid, adult relationship. And the best part is that after we decided to marry each other, I didn't have to go back and watch him dating 29 other girls on national television.
Hopefully this says more about how awesome my husband is than it does about our horrible taste in television. I really enjoy his company. Even after he's seen me at my worst, I still like to talk to him. Not just have those meaningful conversations, but also the light banter that generally occurs when you're on a first date and you're trying to be your wittiest. And it's interesting, to me, how life plays out. There are so many scenarios in which I wouldn't have made it past the first "rose ceremony," but here I am, for better or worse (tv programming), partnered for life.
I swam a long, long way this weekend. Like...4500 meters. So...around 2.5 miles? Maybe a little more? It was grand. 100 laps on Saturday and 80 on Sunday. I wish I could swim everyday. But I guess if I swam everyday, I wouldn't get any better at anything else. So I'm back to biking and running in the mornings, and boy are my arms tired. My legs are, too (I've already posted about that), but biking and running really makes my arms tired. Like...I get to work, and I have a hard time holding the door open for people behind me. Maybe I'm just inconsiderate.
So last night, I'm ashamed to admit that Ben and I watched a portion of the Bachelor. I've never seen a full episode of that show, but there really is nothing else as entertaining to watch on Monday evenings. It was the proposal/after show reunion episode, and boy was it dumb. The whole premise of that show is unreal. 1 guy dates 30 girls at the same time, weeding them out one by one and then marries one of them? The one nice thing about that show is that it really opens up a dialogue between my husband and myself. We comment on what we're seeing, and then it just leads to conversations about all sorts of things. His perspective is interesting, and he respects my opinions. Gee. It's almost like we're in a solid, adult relationship. And the best part is that after we decided to marry each other, I didn't have to go back and watch him dating 29 other girls on national television.
Hopefully this says more about how awesome my husband is than it does about our horrible taste in television. I really enjoy his company. Even after he's seen me at my worst, I still like to talk to him. Not just have those meaningful conversations, but also the light banter that generally occurs when you're on a first date and you're trying to be your wittiest. And it's interesting, to me, how life plays out. There are so many scenarios in which I wouldn't have made it past the first "rose ceremony," but here I am, for better or worse (tv programming), partnered for life.
Monday, March 14, 2011
One of *those* Days
I made it to spin class this morning. It went down from there. You know it's a bad Monday when the highlight is a 5:30am spin class in which you feel like barfing for a good 15 minutes. Thank goodness Ben was around to get Bubba ready this morning. I was late getting ready (not sure why, since I got home at the normal time), so we were about 6 minutes late out the door. I paid daycare this morning (never a fun thing), and by the time I got to my parking spot, I was 10 minutes late.
The thing about commuting via rail is that you can't control the train. When you're driving, you can decide to speed. You can decide to run red lights or wait for pedestrians or whatever. When you commute by way of someone else, you don't control those things. You can run all the way from your car to the train station, but you still might have to wait for the next train. Even if you run up to the train before it leaves and push and push on the "open door" button, it might just take off without you on it. Or maybe you JUST make the train (like I did this morning, breathless and sweaty), but then you have to sit next to a guy who's hacking up a lung and smells strongly of puke. And maybe the train that you just caught will stop 4 times on the tracks for no reason or wait for 4 minutes at a stop when nobody is trying to get on or off. You can't control that. It just happens. You can run the mile from the stop to work, but you're still going to be late.
Mondays after time events (new years, daylight savings, leap year) are exciting in IT. Something always goes wrong. Always. And instead of alerting anyone over the weekend when it happened, users wait until Monday morning to tell someone. And then it's a mad scramble to get it fixed.
Don't these people know that I have a ton of things I need to get done this week, since I'll be off on Spring Break 2011 next week? We've got our largest (2) hospital(s) going live on the first of April (just joking, it's the 3rd), and I've got to get all of my stuff done before then. That means Friday. I'm scared, yet hopeful. I'm sure I've got a few photos of myself looking "scared, yet hopeful" from my days "meeting Milwaukee" with the Jessica's. I'll have to find one and post it. 'Cause that's me right now...
The thing about commuting via rail is that you can't control the train. When you're driving, you can decide to speed. You can decide to run red lights or wait for pedestrians or whatever. When you commute by way of someone else, you don't control those things. You can run all the way from your car to the train station, but you still might have to wait for the next train. Even if you run up to the train before it leaves and push and push on the "open door" button, it might just take off without you on it. Or maybe you JUST make the train (like I did this morning, breathless and sweaty), but then you have to sit next to a guy who's hacking up a lung and smells strongly of puke. And maybe the train that you just caught will stop 4 times on the tracks for no reason or wait for 4 minutes at a stop when nobody is trying to get on or off. You can't control that. It just happens. You can run the mile from the stop to work, but you're still going to be late.
Mondays after time events (new years, daylight savings, leap year) are exciting in IT. Something always goes wrong. Always. And instead of alerting anyone over the weekend when it happened, users wait until Monday morning to tell someone. And then it's a mad scramble to get it fixed.
Don't these people know that I have a ton of things I need to get done this week, since I'll be off on Spring Break 2011 next week? We've got our largest (2) hospital(s) going live on the first of April (just joking, it's the 3rd), and I've got to get all of my stuff done before then. That means Friday. I'm scared, yet hopeful. I'm sure I've got a few photos of myself looking "scared, yet hopeful" from my days "meeting Milwaukee" with the Jessica's. I'll have to find one and post it. 'Cause that's me right now...
Friday, March 11, 2011
Can this train turn around?
There's nothing quite like the feeling of having an infant in the house - especially if it's YOUR infant. After months of what you thought were sleepless nights due to your massive belly (or your massive wife) impeding on a comfortable night's sleep, you bring this bowling ball home, and realize what it truly means to have sleepless nights.
About 2 months into this experience is when it starts to hit you. It kind of seeps in before you realize it, but one day, you are standing in your kitchen (or living room, or bathroom or whatever) and you realize that you are standing perfectly still, but it feels like you're moving. Or maybe that your skin is still moving. Neurons are firing into space. You are officially sleep deprived. If you sit in one spot for more than 22 seconds, you fall asleep. Little micro-sleeps until you're up and moving again. It's a dangerous way to live. Cortisol and adrenaline and all things bad for you on a systemic basis are what make up the majority of your blood volume. Your child is killing you.
It gets better (really, it does). For instance, there's a point in time when your infant sleeps through the night (and by "sleep through the night" I mean, a solid 4 hours of uninterrupted sleep for you), at which time you totally freak out, thinking that maybe your baby died in the middle of the night. He didn't, but your stress hormones just spiked again. Nice work. After a few nights in a row of this, it becomes the new normal.
A little while later, you kind of forget what it was like those first few months. That's where we are, now. The boy's 2. The girl's 7 (and who am I kidding, she was always a good sleeper). The one who's potty trained is self-sufficient, the one who's not has a diaper on, anyway. There's no reason to not get a good night's sleep. And for the most part, we have been getting fairly good sleep for the past 6 months or so.
And that's why stuff like this past week is so terrible. The boy's sick with a cough. The kind of cough that wakes you out of a deep sleep and makes you talk in hushed tones to your spouse about what to do. The kind of cough that leads to sleepless nights for all involved. I'm a firm believer that after you have kids, your sleep is never quite the same. Even when they regularly sleep through the night, it takes years to (or maybe you never do) get back to where you used to be, sleep-wise. And once you do, you're old. Like...4 years older than you were when the kid was born, and it feels like you're 10 years older. You've aged.
It might be why non-parents have a hard time relating to parents and vice-versa. We are on completely different wavelengths. Our body chemistry is completely different, now. I've got adrenaline, coritsol and caffiene coursing through my veins. You've got DHEA and HDL and hemoglobin. It's like I'm a monster zombie. Please don't shoot. I want to be like you again. Help me...
About 2 months into this experience is when it starts to hit you. It kind of seeps in before you realize it, but one day, you are standing in your kitchen (or living room, or bathroom or whatever) and you realize that you are standing perfectly still, but it feels like you're moving. Or maybe that your skin is still moving. Neurons are firing into space. You are officially sleep deprived. If you sit in one spot for more than 22 seconds, you fall asleep. Little micro-sleeps until you're up and moving again. It's a dangerous way to live. Cortisol and adrenaline and all things bad for you on a systemic basis are what make up the majority of your blood volume. Your child is killing you.
It gets better (really, it does). For instance, there's a point in time when your infant sleeps through the night (and by "sleep through the night" I mean, a solid 4 hours of uninterrupted sleep for you), at which time you totally freak out, thinking that maybe your baby died in the middle of the night. He didn't, but your stress hormones just spiked again. Nice work. After a few nights in a row of this, it becomes the new normal.
A little while later, you kind of forget what it was like those first few months. That's where we are, now. The boy's 2. The girl's 7 (and who am I kidding, she was always a good sleeper). The one who's potty trained is self-sufficient, the one who's not has a diaper on, anyway. There's no reason to not get a good night's sleep. And for the most part, we have been getting fairly good sleep for the past 6 months or so.
And that's why stuff like this past week is so terrible. The boy's sick with a cough. The kind of cough that wakes you out of a deep sleep and makes you talk in hushed tones to your spouse about what to do. The kind of cough that leads to sleepless nights for all involved. I'm a firm believer that after you have kids, your sleep is never quite the same. Even when they regularly sleep through the night, it takes years to (or maybe you never do) get back to where you used to be, sleep-wise. And once you do, you're old. Like...4 years older than you were when the kid was born, and it feels like you're 10 years older. You've aged.
It might be why non-parents have a hard time relating to parents and vice-versa. We are on completely different wavelengths. Our body chemistry is completely different, now. I've got adrenaline, coritsol and caffiene coursing through my veins. You've got DHEA and HDL and hemoglobin. It's like I'm a monster zombie. Please don't shoot. I want to be like you again. Help me...
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Fail. But in a good way...
I didn't make it to the gym today for my 7th day in a row of cardio. I'm sorry if I let you down. I really do have a good reason, though. Bubba's sick. I think. We're not sure. He's had a cough for a few weeks, now. It's been an occasional cough which is definitely worse at night, but once he falls asleep, he's ok. Not last night. We gave him a breathing treatment after he'd been in bed for a couple of hours. Then, we left the hall light on so he could fall back asleep normally. I fell asleep with it on. At some point, Ben got up and gave Bubba a drink and turned the light off. A while (several hours??) later, Bubba was up coughing again. He coughed so hard, he puked in his bed. Yeah. March is awesome so far. Poo one night, puke a week later...I can't wait to see what next week brings us.
So, I cleaned up his crib and him and put him into bed with us. He tossed, turned, kicked, head-butted until the alarm went off. And that's when I made the decision to skip the cardio this morning. My legs were already sore from earlier in the week, and I was just going to do some active recovery today, anyway. Ben, on the other hand, in a display of strength, endurance, and bravado (he is laughing in the face of biology), is at jiujitsu. I was under the impression that the body needed rest in order to function properly. Apparently not. You can just get by with sheer will - for a while, anyway.
Even if I did miss this morning, I have still already walked over 2 miles (thank you, commute), and I'll be back at it tomorrow morning for Friday's spin class. Right now, though, I need to get Bubba up for some lunch before his doctor's appointment. It is nice to be able to take him to appointments and then work from home. And I'm still looking forward to this weekend, when I can swim! 1 more week until Scooter comes out here for spring break. Yay!
So, I cleaned up his crib and him and put him into bed with us. He tossed, turned, kicked, head-butted until the alarm went off. And that's when I made the decision to skip the cardio this morning. My legs were already sore from earlier in the week, and I was just going to do some active recovery today, anyway. Ben, on the other hand, in a display of strength, endurance, and bravado (he is laughing in the face of biology), is at jiujitsu. I was under the impression that the body needed rest in order to function properly. Apparently not. You can just get by with sheer will - for a while, anyway.
Even if I did miss this morning, I have still already walked over 2 miles (thank you, commute), and I'll be back at it tomorrow morning for Friday's spin class. Right now, though, I need to get Bubba up for some lunch before his doctor's appointment. It is nice to be able to take him to appointments and then work from home. And I'm still looking forward to this weekend, when I can swim! 1 more week until Scooter comes out here for spring break. Yay!
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
*yawn*
Today was day 6 of "7 days per week cardio." My legs are sore. You thought I was going to say lungs, huh? You'd be wrong. When it was just a bike every other day type of thing, my whimpy legs would get a chance to recover a bit before the next go-round. But now, I'm "running" on my "off" days. And please don't forget about the 2 miles + of walking (sometimes jogging) for my daily commute. I'm really looking forward to my swim days this weekend. Actually, I'm REALLY looking forward to getting my hair chopped off.
Just like a few years ago, when I was convinced that getting a new mattress would solve all of my problems, I am now convinced that having short hair will solve all of my problems. For one, I could, in theory, swim during the week. The 40 minutes it takes to dry/style my hair will be cut down to 5, tops. That would allow my legs some time to recover. I could do M-W-F bike, T-Sat run and Th-Sun swim.
Also, Bubba would stop pulling my hair. I'd stop tickling Ben's face with my mop while we're sleeping. I'd stop getting my hair caught in my backpack straps on my commute. I'd stop head-sweating (as much) during spin class. I wouldn't have to worry about frizz when my hair's in a pony tail because there'd be no more pony tails.
But most of all, my legs wouldn't hurt as much. I'm sure of it.
Just like a few years ago, when I was convinced that getting a new mattress would solve all of my problems, I am now convinced that having short hair will solve all of my problems. For one, I could, in theory, swim during the week. The 40 minutes it takes to dry/style my hair will be cut down to 5, tops. That would allow my legs some time to recover. I could do M-W-F bike, T-Sat run and Th-Sun swim.
Also, Bubba would stop pulling my hair. I'd stop tickling Ben's face with my mop while we're sleeping. I'd stop getting my hair caught in my backpack straps on my commute. I'd stop head-sweating (as much) during spin class. I wouldn't have to worry about frizz when my hair's in a pony tail because there'd be no more pony tails.
But most of all, my legs wouldn't hurt as much. I'm sure of it.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Oh. Nevermind
So...that really wasn't my 100th blog post. I have 3 fakey-jake blogs that I haven't actually posted. So, we're about 2 more blogs away from celebrating 100. I guess that means we can party it up again later this week. Except that I didn't actually party yesterday. And I won't later this week, either.
Today's 4 weeks since the trial. Still no word. The judge (lawyer? it's hard to remember at this point) said it'd be at least 8 weeks, but I'm still waiting. Like it might happen at any moment. My phone will ring, my email will refresh, and I'll know. But it hasn't, and I don't. In fact, my judge has been kind of busy lately. I guess with stuff like that to consider, it's hard to care about a family and the welfare of a seven year old who isn't being abused in her current situation. Argh. At least we're less than 2 weeks away from Scooter coming out here. 10 days, in fact, until she's out here. And then we're in for some fun! She thinks we're going to sit around and do nothing, but I'm sure it'll be fun.
In other news, my CIO "connected" (?) with me on linked in today. Weird and scary, huh? I'm sure he just looked up anyone with Legacy Health in their profile and "linked" (?) with them, but still. It was different when I was with OFFWIRE and was managed directly by a vice president. This guy is a level (or two?) above VP. There's probably 4 levels between him and me. So that was interesting. It makes me want to say, "hey Glen" when I walk by. But, of course, I'll just smile nicely. Oh, who am I kidding. I never pass him in the hall. But if I do, I'll just smile nicely. It's how I do. Kind of.
In happy news, the work that I've been doing for the past week has upgraded our "readiness" rating from a red (bad) to a yellow (still not great). It's better than nothing, though, and myself and one of my coworkers will continue to plug away until we're a green. We have until April. I hope we can make it happen. It would help if certain people wouldn't cancel two weeks' worth of meetings. We kind of need those to know what we're doing.
Argh. Slow news day. Sorry 'bout that, guys. Hopefully, I'll be smart and witty tomorrow.
Today's 4 weeks since the trial. Still no word. The judge (lawyer? it's hard to remember at this point) said it'd be at least 8 weeks, but I'm still waiting. Like it might happen at any moment. My phone will ring, my email will refresh, and I'll know. But it hasn't, and I don't. In fact, my judge has been kind of busy lately. I guess with stuff like that to consider, it's hard to care about a family and the welfare of a seven year old who isn't being abused in her current situation. Argh. At least we're less than 2 weeks away from Scooter coming out here. 10 days, in fact, until she's out here. And then we're in for some fun! She thinks we're going to sit around and do nothing, but I'm sure it'll be fun.
In other news, my CIO "connected" (?) with me on linked in today. Weird and scary, huh? I'm sure he just looked up anyone with Legacy Health in their profile and "linked" (?) with them, but still. It was different when I was with OFFWIRE and was managed directly by a vice president. This guy is a level (or two?) above VP. There's probably 4 levels between him and me. So that was interesting. It makes me want to say, "hey Glen" when I walk by. But, of course, I'll just smile nicely. Oh, who am I kidding. I never pass him in the hall. But if I do, I'll just smile nicely. It's how I do. Kind of.
In happy news, the work that I've been doing for the past week has upgraded our "readiness" rating from a red (bad) to a yellow (still not great). It's better than nothing, though, and myself and one of my coworkers will continue to plug away until we're a green. We have until April. I hope we can make it happen. It would help if certain people wouldn't cancel two weeks' worth of meetings. We kind of need those to know what we're doing.
Argh. Slow news day. Sorry 'bout that, guys. Hopefully, I'll be smart and witty tomorrow.
Monday, March 7, 2011
100th post!
If you're still reading, congratulations. This is 100. I hope you all had fun and productive weekends. I did. I was "on call" for work. Actually, I still am until Friday. It was uneventful (thank goodness!). I'm not sure what kind of reporting emergencies usually happen after hours and on weekends, but the responsibility of being on call is scary. The last time I was on call, we upgraded some systems, so I had to do some testing at 1am Portland time (I was in Omaha, though, so it was 3am there). It took all of 10 minutes, and I went back to bed. Exciting, I know. This time (so far) nothing. Whew.
This weekend, Bubba got his first big boy haircut. We took him to Pigtails and Crewcuts, which specializes in kids' hair. They did a fantastic job. Especially once you factor in the spazzy head movements of a 2 year old. Nobody got stabbed with scissors or whacked on the head with combs. I consider that a success! They even saved us a bit of hair in a card. It was cute. I thought he looked more like his cousins after the hair cut.
This weekend, I also got to the pool twice (yay to Ben for watching Bubba after he got all that syrup up in him!). I realized mid-way through my first pool visit that I had counted my laps incorrectly the last time I was at the pool, and I'm not in as poor of shape as I thought. I'm doing alright. Both days this weekend, I got my mile done in under 45 minutes. That means I'd easily hit 100 laps in under an hour, if I had been so inclined. I wasn't. It was so nice to get back in there, though, and tear it up. I'm already looking forward to next weekend.
Ben has me on a training regimen. It started out with spin class 3 times per week. Biking is a sport at which I'm pretty horrible, and so far, I don't think I've actually made it 3 times per week. I've had good excuses, though, and if I had been in town on Friday 2 weeks ago and Monday last week, I would have had 2 weeks of going 3 times. This week will be my first, I think. I have made it twice per week, though, for a few weeks, now, and I must admit that my biking feels like it's getting better. Whether or not that's true has yet to be tested.
Next stop: running. Another sport that I'm pretty terrible at, and another component of a triathlon. I'm beginning to wonder why is it that the only thing I like doing in triathlons is the swim, and that's always the shortest leg. They need to have more amateur swimming races for adults. Or perhaps I need to learn to like biking and running. I usually only like things that I'm fairly good at, so I guess that means I need to get better at running. Away we go.
Ben has volunteered to get Bubba ready in the mornings during my cardio craze, which means happy bonus for me. I get to get the gym business out of the way in the mornings, and I get out of wrestling with a tired 2 year old. To quote Charlie Sheen, "Winning!" The goal here is to get some sort of cardio in 7 days per week. If I can continue to swim on the weekends, that means I only have to run twice per week and cycle 3 times. Ta-dah! Soon, I will be in a shape. I'll let you know what kind of shape it is when I find out.
I'd like to be in a sprint triathlon shape by the end of summer. Hopefully, with enough bike improvement to do better than the one I did in 2007. But we'll see. I'm lugging around a few extra pounds, and a lot more baggage. It's nice to have a goal again, though.
This weekend, Bubba got his first big boy haircut. We took him to Pigtails and Crewcuts, which specializes in kids' hair. They did a fantastic job. Especially once you factor in the spazzy head movements of a 2 year old. Nobody got stabbed with scissors or whacked on the head with combs. I consider that a success! They even saved us a bit of hair in a card. It was cute. I thought he looked more like his cousins after the hair cut.
This weekend, I also got to the pool twice (yay to Ben for watching Bubba after he got all that syrup up in him!). I realized mid-way through my first pool visit that I had counted my laps incorrectly the last time I was at the pool, and I'm not in as poor of shape as I thought. I'm doing alright. Both days this weekend, I got my mile done in under 45 minutes. That means I'd easily hit 100 laps in under an hour, if I had been so inclined. I wasn't. It was so nice to get back in there, though, and tear it up. I'm already looking forward to next weekend.
Ben has me on a training regimen. It started out with spin class 3 times per week. Biking is a sport at which I'm pretty horrible, and so far, I don't think I've actually made it 3 times per week. I've had good excuses, though, and if I had been in town on Friday 2 weeks ago and Monday last week, I would have had 2 weeks of going 3 times. This week will be my first, I think. I have made it twice per week, though, for a few weeks, now, and I must admit that my biking feels like it's getting better. Whether or not that's true has yet to be tested.
Next stop: running. Another sport that I'm pretty terrible at, and another component of a triathlon. I'm beginning to wonder why is it that the only thing I like doing in triathlons is the swim, and that's always the shortest leg. They need to have more amateur swimming races for adults. Or perhaps I need to learn to like biking and running. I usually only like things that I'm fairly good at, so I guess that means I need to get better at running. Away we go.
Ben has volunteered to get Bubba ready in the mornings during my cardio craze, which means happy bonus for me. I get to get the gym business out of the way in the mornings, and I get out of wrestling with a tired 2 year old. To quote Charlie Sheen, "Winning!" The goal here is to get some sort of cardio in 7 days per week. If I can continue to swim on the weekends, that means I only have to run twice per week and cycle 3 times. Ta-dah! Soon, I will be in a shape. I'll let you know what kind of shape it is when I find out.
I'd like to be in a sprint triathlon shape by the end of summer. Hopefully, with enough bike improvement to do better than the one I did in 2007. But we'll see. I'm lugging around a few extra pounds, and a lot more baggage. It's nice to have a goal again, though.
Friday, March 4, 2011
Needed: Personal Finance Educators
For: The City of Portland. Not me. I might be broke right now, but I wouldn't say it's because of poor money management, other than the giagantic tax refund we're getting this year. That could be chalked up to poor money management. Or it might be genius. Maybe last January, I foresaw all of last year's developments, and knew that I'd need a little kicker in March. I didn't.
The people of Portland need a lot of help in the area of money mangement. That's the only explanation I can come up with for the fact that I'm finding so much money here. The day I got here, and I found my first penny, I thought to myself, 'wouldn't it be neat if I found a penny everyday I'm apart from Scooter?' And guess what? Once you add in the dollar I found in Dec or Jan and the loony (canadian dollar) I found a few weeks ago, I'm up over $3.65 - even more, considering the Canadian dollar is doing well against the US dollar right now. Next Sunday, I'll have been here six months.
That's kind of ridiculous. I'm not particularly lucky (although maybe I should face the world while walking, and quit staring at the ground), and I'm not wandering all over the city, picking up loose change that has been lying there for weeks. I'm walking the same mile between the train stop and my work place and the same 3 blocks from the other train stop to my home (where most of my heart is). Almost daily, people are walking those same blocks and dropping money. With Oregon's unemployment the way it is, you'd think people would be holding onto that stuff.
Earlier this week, on the same day that both Ben and I found a penny each, one of my coworkers found a cashier's check on the sidewalk for nearly three thousand dollars. Yeah, she could live here for 2 thousand some odd years and never find another penny and still come out ahead of me. Everytime I pick up a coin worth more than 1 cent, I wonder about what kind of person would drop that. A cashier's check for $3,000 really makes me wonder. Obviously, the kind of person who would drop that is the kind of person in need of some education. My coworker promptly called the bank and returned the check (she is, after all, an employee of Good Samaritan), so hopefully that person will have learned a lesson by the time they get their money back. If not, I need to get their name and address, so I can start following them around.
The people of Portland need a lot of help in the area of money mangement. That's the only explanation I can come up with for the fact that I'm finding so much money here. The day I got here, and I found my first penny, I thought to myself, 'wouldn't it be neat if I found a penny everyday I'm apart from Scooter?' And guess what? Once you add in the dollar I found in Dec or Jan and the loony (canadian dollar) I found a few weeks ago, I'm up over $3.65 - even more, considering the Canadian dollar is doing well against the US dollar right now. Next Sunday, I'll have been here six months.
That's kind of ridiculous. I'm not particularly lucky (although maybe I should face the world while walking, and quit staring at the ground), and I'm not wandering all over the city, picking up loose change that has been lying there for weeks. I'm walking the same mile between the train stop and my work place and the same 3 blocks from the other train stop to my home (where most of my heart is). Almost daily, people are walking those same blocks and dropping money. With Oregon's unemployment the way it is, you'd think people would be holding onto that stuff.
Earlier this week, on the same day that both Ben and I found a penny each, one of my coworkers found a cashier's check on the sidewalk for nearly three thousand dollars. Yeah, she could live here for 2 thousand some odd years and never find another penny and still come out ahead of me. Everytime I pick up a coin worth more than 1 cent, I wonder about what kind of person would drop that. A cashier's check for $3,000 really makes me wonder. Obviously, the kind of person who would drop that is the kind of person in need of some education. My coworker promptly called the bank and returned the check (she is, after all, an employee of Good Samaritan), so hopefully that person will have learned a lesson by the time they get their money back. If not, I need to get their name and address, so I can start following them around.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Oh man.
I had one of the best conversations with Scooter last night. Typically, we talk for 10 minutes or so, and then she gets bored or wants to read or wants to watch TV or wants to play or whatever. Last night, I called her at my usual time, and she called me back a little before 8 (her time). We talked non-stop until it was time for her to go to bed at 8:30.
We talked about Bubba's diaper adventures. She was SOO grossed out, I told her about her own adventures at that age. At one point, as a joke, I told her that her penguin pillow pet was in Bubba's crib when he started experimenting. Her reaction was, "you. No..." And then silence. Dead silence. I told her I was joking, and that we don't let Bubba play with her stuff when she's not here. Relief. Huge relief. I was surprised. We tease Scooter all the time by telling her that Ben's been riding her bike or that he disassembled it and put it in a box in the closet, etc. She never falls for it completely. She did this time, and it almost gave her a heart attack.
She also had some sad news. Her dad and "Vicky" lost their baby. Or zygote, I guess, would be a better term for it. She was only a month and a half pregnant. This was the very reason why I was a little unhappy that they told Scooter about it so early. I mean, I wasn't out of my first trimester, but I was well over 2 months along when we told Scooter about Bubba. And my family has a rep for being good little incubators.
And of course, "Vicky" and Scooter's dad aren't exactly the greatest communicators in the world. In Scooter's words, "Oh. They never talk to me about anything." I believe it, too, since she generally doesn't know about dentist or doctor appointments until after she gets back from one. So who was stuck explaining babies and why zygotes sometimes don't make it? Me. Over the phone. Scooter's summary of the situation...
Scooter: Well...we had to make ANOTHER stop after school. (a little background: she HATES stopping or running errands on her way home from school. she prefers to just drive straight home).
Me: Yeah?
Scooter: Yeah. [Vicky] was at the Dr. because the baby's dead.
Me: Oh dear! I'm really sorry to hear that. That's too bad.
Scooter: Yeah. [Vicky] had an appointment to look at pictures of it, but there wasn't a heart-beat.
Me: That is sad.
Scooter: It grew to be the size of a raspberry. That's small. Maybe [Vicky] didn't feed it enough.
Me: Oh, honey. Sometimes the babies don't grow correctly, or the mom's body isn't quite ready to have a baby or sometimes it's just random. But it's nobody's fault. Sometimes the baby just can't grow.
Scooter: Oh. It was a raspberry. There are pictures, but there was no heartbeat.
Me: I'm really sorry to hear that.
Scooter: Was [Bubba] ever that small?
Me: Yep. But he was able to grow.
All in all, I do think it's sad. It's sad how quickly her dad tells her stuff that maybe he should hold onto (like...back in the day, new girlfriends would be introduced mere moments before a break up). It's sad that Scooter has to deal with living apart from her family, that she has to deal with her dad potentially moving, that she has to deal with a pregnancy, and now the death of a raspberry. And it's up to me to take the time to talk to her about it.
I'll also admit that I'm a little selfishly sad about all of this. I was kind of hoping that when this baby came along, Vicky wouldn't be so intent on playing house with my daughter since she would have a child of her own. At this point, I'm just hoping that I don't have to keep having dead zygote conversations with Scooter every few months until one of the pregnancies takes, like I did with the ex-girlfriends a few years ago.
We talked about Bubba's diaper adventures. She was SOO grossed out, I told her about her own adventures at that age. At one point, as a joke, I told her that her penguin pillow pet was in Bubba's crib when he started experimenting. Her reaction was, "you. No..." And then silence. Dead silence. I told her I was joking, and that we don't let Bubba play with her stuff when she's not here. Relief. Huge relief. I was surprised. We tease Scooter all the time by telling her that Ben's been riding her bike or that he disassembled it and put it in a box in the closet, etc. She never falls for it completely. She did this time, and it almost gave her a heart attack.
She also had some sad news. Her dad and "Vicky" lost their baby. Or zygote, I guess, would be a better term for it. She was only a month and a half pregnant. This was the very reason why I was a little unhappy that they told Scooter about it so early. I mean, I wasn't out of my first trimester, but I was well over 2 months along when we told Scooter about Bubba. And my family has a rep for being good little incubators.
And of course, "Vicky" and Scooter's dad aren't exactly the greatest communicators in the world. In Scooter's words, "Oh. They never talk to me about anything." I believe it, too, since she generally doesn't know about dentist or doctor appointments until after she gets back from one. So who was stuck explaining babies and why zygotes sometimes don't make it? Me. Over the phone. Scooter's summary of the situation...
Scooter: Well...we had to make ANOTHER stop after school. (a little background: she HATES stopping or running errands on her way home from school. she prefers to just drive straight home).
Me: Yeah?
Scooter: Yeah. [Vicky] was at the Dr. because the baby's dead.
Me: Oh dear! I'm really sorry to hear that. That's too bad.
Scooter: Yeah. [Vicky] had an appointment to look at pictures of it, but there wasn't a heart-beat.
Me: That is sad.
Scooter: It grew to be the size of a raspberry. That's small. Maybe [Vicky] didn't feed it enough.
Me: Oh, honey. Sometimes the babies don't grow correctly, or the mom's body isn't quite ready to have a baby or sometimes it's just random. But it's nobody's fault. Sometimes the baby just can't grow.
Scooter: Oh. It was a raspberry. There are pictures, but there was no heartbeat.
Me: I'm really sorry to hear that.
Scooter: Was [Bubba] ever that small?
Me: Yep. But he was able to grow.
All in all, I do think it's sad. It's sad how quickly her dad tells her stuff that maybe he should hold onto (like...back in the day, new girlfriends would be introduced mere moments before a break up). It's sad that Scooter has to deal with living apart from her family, that she has to deal with her dad potentially moving, that she has to deal with a pregnancy, and now the death of a raspberry. And it's up to me to take the time to talk to her about it.
I'll also admit that I'm a little selfishly sad about all of this. I was kind of hoping that when this baby came along, Vicky wouldn't be so intent on playing house with my daughter since she would have a child of her own. At this point, I'm just hoping that I don't have to keep having dead zygote conversations with Scooter every few months until one of the pregnancies takes, like I did with the ex-girlfriends a few years ago.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Dad? Daddy? Daaaa-ad. Hm.
Have you ever experienced one of those times, when something kind of horrible happens, but you know if you were in someone else's shoes, you'd probably be laughing. And it's kind of terrible at the time, but as you are going through it, you know in the back of your mind that you'll be laughing about it later? That happened last night. I had a similar, but much more disgusting (for me, anyway) experience about 5 years ago when my daughter started potty training. 5 years ago, I went in to check on my daughter, who had just graduated to a big girl bed. Her room was dark. I crept over to her bed, leaned down, and she touched my cheek with a sticky hand. Something wasn't right. I walked out her door, turned on the hall light, and turned back into her room. There was poop on the wall. There was poop on her sheets. There was poop on her, and, it turns out, now there was poop on my cheek. She had taken off her diaper either pre or post defecation. Gross. I still have flashbacks to the moment when I realized that I had poop on my face. Horrific. But also kind of funny as a metaphor for parenthood.
Jump forward 5 years and Bubba has recently been spending some time on his frog potty. Like a light switch on his second birthday, he's gone from a cute, mischevious boy to a cute, awnry boy. Yesterday, for whatever reason, I caught him pulling down his pants and ripping off his diaper 3 different times in the span of 45 minutes. Don't do that! We only take our diapers off in the bathroom. An exhausting swim lesson (for me) later, and we were back home, dawdling over dinner. After that, we were both exhausted, and it was time for bed. I put him in a fresh diaper and pajamas, brushed his teeth and tucked him in.
Ben came home shortly after that and also said good night. Bubba did not sleep. He sang, and flipped and flopped. I asked Ben to check on him. Bubba popped right up when he heard/saw his dad. Oops. Sorry. After that, we purposely ignored him. He needed to fall asleep on his own. At one point, he started asking for his dad. He sang "dad, daddy dad." We ignored him. I was getting some stuff ready for the morning when I saw a diaper on the floor of Bubba's room. I looked at his crib. He was standing up with no pants on. A familiar smell enveloped me. Oh dear God. No.
We completely strippd his crib. He had, at least, kept his hands out of it. From the looks of the INSIDE of the diaper, he took it off before depositing treasure all over his bed. From the looks of the OUTSIDE of his diaper, he knows how to wipe. The whole time I was re-diapering him, he kept saying, "Diaper....OFF!" and throwing his hands up, like he ripped that thing off chippendales-style. And for the second 2 year old in a row, I'm zipping him into his footy pajamas backward in order to stimey the stripping and ripping. I never would have thought that I'd spend my evenings cleaning out monkey cages. But here I am...
Jump forward 5 years and Bubba has recently been spending some time on his frog potty. Like a light switch on his second birthday, he's gone from a cute, mischevious boy to a cute, awnry boy. Yesterday, for whatever reason, I caught him pulling down his pants and ripping off his diaper 3 different times in the span of 45 minutes. Don't do that! We only take our diapers off in the bathroom. An exhausting swim lesson (for me) later, and we were back home, dawdling over dinner. After that, we were both exhausted, and it was time for bed. I put him in a fresh diaper and pajamas, brushed his teeth and tucked him in.
Ben came home shortly after that and also said good night. Bubba did not sleep. He sang, and flipped and flopped. I asked Ben to check on him. Bubba popped right up when he heard/saw his dad. Oops. Sorry. After that, we purposely ignored him. He needed to fall asleep on his own. At one point, he started asking for his dad. He sang "dad, daddy dad." We ignored him. I was getting some stuff ready for the morning when I saw a diaper on the floor of Bubba's room. I looked at his crib. He was standing up with no pants on. A familiar smell enveloped me. Oh dear God. No.
We completely strippd his crib. He had, at least, kept his hands out of it. From the looks of the INSIDE of the diaper, he took it off before depositing treasure all over his bed. From the looks of the OUTSIDE of his diaper, he knows how to wipe. The whole time I was re-diapering him, he kept saying, "Diaper....OFF!" and throwing his hands up, like he ripped that thing off chippendales-style. And for the second 2 year old in a row, I'm zipping him into his footy pajamas backward in order to stimey the stripping and ripping. I never would have thought that I'd spend my evenings cleaning out monkey cages. But here I am...
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