Well, we're back in Omaha. It's only for a few days, but it's not my favorite place to be. For one thing, it's COLD out here. I'm not a fan of this weather, nor of the dirty car that comes with driving in this weather. I'm also not a fan of why we're back. Trial day is tomorrow. My stomach has been flipping around for weeks, now, but it's nothing compared to what's been happening since we landed on Saturday afternoon. Flips, turns, kicks, acid, you name it, my body's been doing it. I am having a hard time keeping my nerves and emotions in check.
I'm so nervous, in part, because I know what to expect this time around. I'm also nervous because my portion of this dance is done. So the case rests on the shoulders of my lawyer, now. Will he ask the "right" questions? What are the "right" questions? Argh! I'm also nervous because, supposedly, this is it. Tomorrow is the day it all goes down, and then we wait for the verdict. And that terrifies me. It terrifies me because all along, we've done the right thing with the wrong result. What if this is just more of the same? What if we just threw away $30,000 for no reason? What if I have to move back to this horribly cold, snowy place without a job, without anymore savings, without without without.
I can only hope that a stranger that doesn't know me or my family can make the right decision for us.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Friday, February 4, 2011
Things that make me go "hmm"
Ok, I know that title stinks. I'm sorry, but I really am sitting here wondering what just happened.
If you're at all embarrassed by female bodily functions, you might want to stop reading right now. In fact...that sentence kind of makes me want to stop typing right now. But this is really weird, so I have to keep going. Before going into the restroom, I slipped a tampon and panty liner into my pocket. The tampon is the super cute clicky kind that my sister had on our trip to STL this summer. The novelty of them (and the fact that they're somewhat discrete) convinced me to buy a pack to keep in my purse for days like this.
Anyway, I got into the stall, took the tampon out of my pocket and kind of just dropped into my pants somewhere - you know, for easy access when I needed it. Long story short, I decided I didn't really need it. So I pulled my pants up, assuming it was still in my pocket, and went about my way. As I was washing my hands, I wondered where that sucker had gone. It was no longer in my pocket, and it was not on the floor of the bathroom. I thoroughly checked myself out in the full length mirror and also gave myself a TSA-style pat-down. Nothing. Now I'm back at my desk, wondering where that thing could have gone and whether or not it's going to turn up and embarrass me in my cube. Like...fall out of my pant leg as my boss walks by or something.
I guess I'm the latest victim of whatever it is stalking the women's bathrooms around here. Every week, we get emails similar to this: "Ladies! If anyone lost a silver hoop earring in the lower level bathroom, come to my desk to claim." Every week. It's a joke around here. "Ladies! Someone left their glock in the bathroom. If you're missing it, come to my desk to claim!" or "Ladies! Someone left their small child in the upper level bathroom. Email me with a description to have it returned." Tomorrow, we'll get the inevitable "Ladies! One of you left an unopened tampon in the 2nd floor hallway. Come to my desk to claim." Only, I'll be too embarrassed to actually claim it.
If you're at all embarrassed by female bodily functions, you might want to stop reading right now. In fact...that sentence kind of makes me want to stop typing right now. But this is really weird, so I have to keep going. Before going into the restroom, I slipped a tampon and panty liner into my pocket. The tampon is the super cute clicky kind that my sister had on our trip to STL this summer. The novelty of them (and the fact that they're somewhat discrete) convinced me to buy a pack to keep in my purse for days like this.
Anyway, I got into the stall, took the tampon out of my pocket and kind of just dropped into my pants somewhere - you know, for easy access when I needed it. Long story short, I decided I didn't really need it. So I pulled my pants up, assuming it was still in my pocket, and went about my way. As I was washing my hands, I wondered where that sucker had gone. It was no longer in my pocket, and it was not on the floor of the bathroom. I thoroughly checked myself out in the full length mirror and also gave myself a TSA-style pat-down. Nothing. Now I'm back at my desk, wondering where that thing could have gone and whether or not it's going to turn up and embarrass me in my cube. Like...fall out of my pant leg as my boss walks by or something.
I guess I'm the latest victim of whatever it is stalking the women's bathrooms around here. Every week, we get emails similar to this: "Ladies! If anyone lost a silver hoop earring in the lower level bathroom, come to my desk to claim." Every week. It's a joke around here. "Ladies! Someone left their glock in the bathroom. If you're missing it, come to my desk to claim!" or "Ladies! Someone left their small child in the upper level bathroom. Email me with a description to have it returned." Tomorrow, we'll get the inevitable "Ladies! One of you left an unopened tampon in the 2nd floor hallway. Come to my desk to claim." Only, I'll be too embarrassed to actually claim it.
I'm having a Nanny 9-1-1 moment, but not because my child is behaving poorly.
I paid daycare this morning. I know it's Friday and not Monday, but we're not going to be here on Mon-Wed next week, so I thought I'd get a head start on it and pay today. The rate had gone up, but only by $8 per week. Not too shabby, eh? Except that translates to $416 a year, times who knows how many kids are there. Oh, and that brings our weekly bill to $265. That's right, folks. My husband and I spend more on daycare than we do on our mortgage.
Let me break it down for you. $265 per week is $13,780 per year. We spend almost forteen THOUSAND dollars per year on child care. I take that back. We get 16 days per year that we don't have to pay ($848), so really, it's only thirteen THOUSAND dollars per year. For child care.
On my walk into work this morning, I longed for the time, not long ago, when I was paying $125 per week for my daughter's care. I thought it was expensive. I knew that it was slightly below national average at the time for pre-school aged care (national average was $7,000 per year, and I was paying roughly $6,500), but still. As a single mom making not quite $40k, spending 16% of it on daycare seemed like a lot. That was only 5 years ago. What has happened since then that it's suddenly OK to pay twice that for the same service? I mean, other than a recession in which millions of people are out of work.
You hear people piss and moan all the time about the tuition rates at our colleges and universities. Well, how about the rates at our first learning centers? Just look at the university I went to. Total expenses for a year is roughly twice what I paid when I went there..wait for it...17 years ago. That's outrageous. But how about if it doubled every five? Don't get me wrong. I understand the importance of good child care. I'm (obviously) willing to pay for good child care. I'm just not sure how I went from struggling to pay 16% of my income on it to paying 20% of my income on the same thing. In a time when people all over are tightening their belts, it's really difficult to justify paying more for necessary services. My family can always cut cable or buy generic groceries, etc. But quality care is a necessity for us to continue to work, and the pace of our cost of living pay increases is not in keeping with the increase in costs of living. I really shouldn't complain. We're only $56,000 away from kindergarten and an end to this madness.
Let me break it down for you. $265 per week is $13,780 per year. We spend almost forteen THOUSAND dollars per year on child care. I take that back. We get 16 days per year that we don't have to pay ($848), so really, it's only thirteen THOUSAND dollars per year. For child care.
On my walk into work this morning, I longed for the time, not long ago, when I was paying $125 per week for my daughter's care. I thought it was expensive. I knew that it was slightly below national average at the time for pre-school aged care (national average was $7,000 per year, and I was paying roughly $6,500), but still. As a single mom making not quite $40k, spending 16% of it on daycare seemed like a lot. That was only 5 years ago. What has happened since then that it's suddenly OK to pay twice that for the same service? I mean, other than a recession in which millions of people are out of work.
You hear people piss and moan all the time about the tuition rates at our colleges and universities. Well, how about the rates at our first learning centers? Just look at the university I went to. Total expenses for a year is roughly twice what I paid when I went there..wait for it...17 years ago. That's outrageous. But how about if it doubled every five? Don't get me wrong. I understand the importance of good child care. I'm (obviously) willing to pay for good child care. I'm just not sure how I went from struggling to pay 16% of my income on it to paying 20% of my income on the same thing. In a time when people all over are tightening their belts, it's really difficult to justify paying more for necessary services. My family can always cut cable or buy generic groceries, etc. But quality care is a necessity for us to continue to work, and the pace of our cost of living pay increases is not in keeping with the increase in costs of living. I really shouldn't complain. We're only $56,000 away from kindergarten and an end to this madness.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Streetcar named quagmire
I had to go to Pioneer Square today. Really, I should have gone sometime after the 22nd of January to pick up my February transit pass. I buy it online through my work, which affords me a generous discount - like 50% off each monthly pass. Basically, the pass is paid for by the time I make 9 round trips. I can generally accomplish that by the 12th of each month, give or take a few days. The train is on your honor, and I can ride the streetcar for free with my work badge, so really, I technically could save $45 per month and not get a pass (as long as I never rode a bus). But I'm an honest citizen, and I'll happily pay $45 per month toward my commute. It's much better than the $120+ I used to pay for gas.
So today, I decided I couldn't put it off any longer, and I went downtown to get my pass. I've done it on my lunch break before, and it generally takes about an hour. It's a 1.5 mile streetcar ride followed by a short 4 or 5 block walk. The streetcar back to work is 1 block closer to the trimet office, so the way back is usually quicker. Except today.
I was about 2 blocks from the stop when I saw the streetcar roll by. It wasn't a huge deal, as the streetcars run fairly often. When I got to the stop, the sign said there'd be an 8 minute wait. I've run into this before, so I decided to walk to the next stop and see what the wait was, then. 8 minutes. Ok...next one: 8 minutes. Surely, I'm not walking at the same pace as the streetcar? Next stop: 7 minutes. 7 minutes, 6 minutes, 6 minutes, 6 minutes, 6 minutes, 4 minutes, 3 minutes, 4 minutes...by this time, it was a little game. I'd look over my shoulder to see if the streetcar was bearing down on me. It wasn't. I found myself at the 18th and Northrup stop. The next stop was 22nd and Northrup, and my office is at 20th and Northrup. It was still 1 minute until the trolley would arrive. Rather than wait to ride, and then walk 2 blocks BACK to my office, I decided to walk 2 blocks forward to my office.
I saw the streetcar out of the corner of my eye as I was unlocking the stairwell door. It never did catch up with me. It was a beautiful walk, too, through the Pearl District, and another uplift section of downtown. Next time, I'll take the shorter way back to work, rather than follow the streetcar rails. It might even save me a minute or two.
So today, I decided I couldn't put it off any longer, and I went downtown to get my pass. I've done it on my lunch break before, and it generally takes about an hour. It's a 1.5 mile streetcar ride followed by a short 4 or 5 block walk. The streetcar back to work is 1 block closer to the trimet office, so the way back is usually quicker. Except today.
I was about 2 blocks from the stop when I saw the streetcar roll by. It wasn't a huge deal, as the streetcars run fairly often. When I got to the stop, the sign said there'd be an 8 minute wait. I've run into this before, so I decided to walk to the next stop and see what the wait was, then. 8 minutes. Ok...next one: 8 minutes. Surely, I'm not walking at the same pace as the streetcar? Next stop: 7 minutes. 7 minutes, 6 minutes, 6 minutes, 6 minutes, 6 minutes, 4 minutes, 3 minutes, 4 minutes...by this time, it was a little game. I'd look over my shoulder to see if the streetcar was bearing down on me. It wasn't. I found myself at the 18th and Northrup stop. The next stop was 22nd and Northrup, and my office is at 20th and Northrup. It was still 1 minute until the trolley would arrive. Rather than wait to ride, and then walk 2 blocks BACK to my office, I decided to walk 2 blocks forward to my office.
I saw the streetcar out of the corner of my eye as I was unlocking the stairwell door. It never did catch up with me. It was a beautiful walk, too, through the Pearl District, and another uplift section of downtown. Next time, I'll take the shorter way back to work, rather than follow the streetcar rails. It might even save me a minute or two.
Whoop, there it is.
I accidently maced myself this morning. I didn't spray it directly into my eyes or anything, but the apartment, my sock, and especially my backpack smelled of mace when I left this morning. Oops.
Ben bought me some mace back in September when I was out here by myself. It offered me some peace of mind during my train commute and mile + walk into work, but mostly it was for the times when I took the late train to or from the airport after visiting Omaha. And it worked. I had peace of mind.
The only time I remotely thought about it was just this week, when a man barked at me as I got on the train on my way home from work. I looked questioningly to my fellow riders, but none of them acted like anything had happened. I thought about the mace in the outside pocket of my backpack. He barked twice more, and then got off the train just before it pulled out of the PGE Park stop. The other passengers in the "standing room only" section all looked relieved.
Well, that was the only time I thought about my mace until today, that is. I was putting my umbrella back into its pocket on the commute pack when it struck something and wouldn't go any further. I pushed harder, and heard a hissing sound. I stopped pushing, investigated the noise, and realized that the thumb-safety had been flipped, and the umbrella was depressing the button on my tiny mace can. A moment later, the smell hit my nose. Shortly after that, I realized that the top of my foot (in my sock) was soaked. And there was a dark circle of wet mace on the pocket netting. Ben came around the corner, and noticed the smell.
I really had to leave to take Bubba to daycare and catch my train, so I put my shoes on, hoping they would cover the splotch on my socks, and left. What a great start to the day. I did find another penny on my way in, though. That *kind of* cancels out the accidental macing of my family, right?
Ben bought me some mace back in September when I was out here by myself. It offered me some peace of mind during my train commute and mile + walk into work, but mostly it was for the times when I took the late train to or from the airport after visiting Omaha. And it worked. I had peace of mind.
The only time I remotely thought about it was just this week, when a man barked at me as I got on the train on my way home from work. I looked questioningly to my fellow riders, but none of them acted like anything had happened. I thought about the mace in the outside pocket of my backpack. He barked twice more, and then got off the train just before it pulled out of the PGE Park stop. The other passengers in the "standing room only" section all looked relieved.
Well, that was the only time I thought about my mace until today, that is. I was putting my umbrella back into its pocket on the commute pack when it struck something and wouldn't go any further. I pushed harder, and heard a hissing sound. I stopped pushing, investigated the noise, and realized that the thumb-safety had been flipped, and the umbrella was depressing the button on my tiny mace can. A moment later, the smell hit my nose. Shortly after that, I realized that the top of my foot (in my sock) was soaked. And there was a dark circle of wet mace on the pocket netting. Ben came around the corner, and noticed the smell.
I really had to leave to take Bubba to daycare and catch my train, so I put my shoes on, hoping they would cover the splotch on my socks, and left. What a great start to the day. I did find another penny on my way in, though. That *kind of* cancels out the accidental macing of my family, right?
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
small victories
I talked to Scooter last night. I talk to her every night. She had a boring day at home. No school (due to snow), no friend (her neighbor friend was at another person's house), no nothing. So she read a book that's completely inappropriate for her age and waited for her friend to come home. She had mentioned on Monday that she hadn't gone to school (even though school was in session all day and the roads were not reported to be treacherous) because it was "too bad" out to go to school. So this was her second day of boredom without her neighbor friend to entertain her.
Naturally, since I worked from home for half the day, I thought I'd give her a call on my way home and break up some of the monotony for her. Little did I realize that this would set off her father, who wasn't even there at the time. Apparently, it is not OK for me to ask my daughter about her day. It's not OK to show an interest in what she's reading or what she does or who she hangs out with. It's not OK for me to know who is watching her during the day. I guess I didn't get that memo. I figured, as her mother, it was my right to know these things. And as her mother, it was not only my right, but my duty to show an interest in her life.
But whatever. After the hissy fit, he did finally tell me (after I asked four or five times) what orthodontist he took her to a month ago. Again. My right as a mother to know that.
Naturally, since I worked from home for half the day, I thought I'd give her a call on my way home and break up some of the monotony for her. Little did I realize that this would set off her father, who wasn't even there at the time. Apparently, it is not OK for me to ask my daughter about her day. It's not OK to show an interest in what she's reading or what she does or who she hangs out with. It's not OK for me to know who is watching her during the day. I guess I didn't get that memo. I figured, as her mother, it was my right to know these things. And as her mother, it was not only my right, but my duty to show an interest in her life.
But whatever. After the hissy fit, he did finally tell me (after I asked four or five times) what orthodontist he took her to a month ago. Again. My right as a mother to know that.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
roargh
I don't really care if that's not a real word. It's how I felt for most of the day. Stress is getting to me, and there was a certain email at work from the CIO that made me stress a bit. But then I went to swim lessons (for Bubba, not me. I already know how to swim) and all was better, even if it's not perfect. He likes being in the pool, even if he does prefer to not have his face anywhere near water.We still like to go and sing songs and bounce around in the pool.
I also discovered another cool SQL trick today. I'm not prepared to share it. Mostly b/c I'd have to write a bunch of extra stuff to make it generic, but I'll give you a gist: ROW NUMBER () OVER ([<partition_by_clause>] <order_by_clause>). It basically means that you can get SQL to return a line number given a primary key and the order in which you want it returned. Today, I needed a row number for every transaction by account. And it worked for me. Even though it's a struggle right now, I know eventually, I'll get to a point where these insane SQL statements that take me hours to figure out will only take 30 minutes. At least, that's what the goal is.
I also discovered another cool SQL trick today. I'm not prepared to share it. Mostly b/c I'd have to write a bunch of extra stuff to make it generic, but I'll give you a gist: ROW NUMBER () OVER ([<partition_by_clause>] <order_by_clause>). It basically means that you can get SQL to return a line number given a primary key and the order in which you want it returned. Today, I needed a row number for every transaction by account. And it worked for me. Even though it's a struggle right now, I know eventually, I'll get to a point where these insane SQL statements that take me hours to figure out will only take 30 minutes. At least, that's what the goal is.
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