Suburban Lesbian Mom

Budding Sociopath?

2008-11-13T17:51:00.004-05:00

(Why doesn't anyone update this damn blog for me? God, do I have to do everything around here?)

I fired someone today. For the first time, ever. I figured it would happen eventually, and that I would feel badly about it. But I didn't feel badly about it. Not at all. It was oddly... satisfying. I was so tired of her continued incompetence and her refusal to rise to the standards that have been set by people way smarter and more important than me. She beat me down. I had no less than 4 formal "your performance sucks, here's the data that tells me that, so go fucking FIX IT!" conferences with this chick, and each time she cried, and told my boss that it was all my fault (boss lady didn't buy it either) and blamed the fact that her husband is in jail (um... which he was when they met... through one of those creepy websites...), and her kid is 15 and having sex (um... surprise? She was conceived during a conjugal visit, her mother is a 400 pound whacko and her father is a... person who has to spend the rest of his life in prison), and her mother is demented, and "oh, boo hoo, life is so stressful", for the fact that she takes 90 minute lunches and comes in late and leaves early and does shitty work and screws up the same things over and over and over again and it's just... intolerable to me. I warned her. Repeatedly. She didn't listen. And today I finally amassed the missing nail to seal her coffin when I caught her in an outright lie. So, I walked down to Boss Lady's office, where I announced that it was time to say goodbye to the slacker. And then we dropped the hammer. There was crying, and pleas for us to reconsider. Then there was the packing of the belongings and the walk of shame. And when it was all done, I was nothing but relieved. Boss lady kids me that she's turning me into a sociopath just like her.

Honestly people, believe me when I tell you that insurance case management is not rocket science. Is the old person old and/or impaired enough that they would be harmed if the care they are receiving were not available to them? Check this box: Yes or No. Document your findings. Substantiate your decision. The End.

So. Not to change the subject, but this is my blog and if nobody else is going to update it for me, I can write whatever I damn well want.

I'm about to finish up the first class toward my MBA. What am I? Insane!? A glutton for punishment!? I dunno. It just seems like the thing to do. Considering the person I just fired is a Ph.D. candidate (Yes! Seriously!), I know that education has very little to do with skill, but if I'm going to be managing people, I think I should maybe know something about management and business and... stuff, so... It's costing me an arm and a leg, but I'm doing it online, and it will take about a year and a half, so why the heck not? I don't NEED to see my family, or SPEND TIME with them... LT and I communiate mostly via text messages these days anyway, and family dinners are a thing of the past, so what the heck? As long as I'm home early enough for my nightly Yoga with kidlet (she's so cute! "I'm bein' a tree, Mama!"), it's all O.K.

Also, LT has a cool new job that she's been working toward for the last few years. She's giving up her per diem job in the gero-psych unit at the hospital to become the Director of Nursing at a little Alzheimer's center located not quite 2 miles from our house. Plus, they're going to pay her MORE than the per diem job, and she won't have to work weekends or wear ugly shoes, and she'll even have some vacation time. Won't that be nice? Just in time for us to not to be able to take a vacation this year because of this crazy school thing.

Whatever, I'm making her buy me a BMW when I graduate.

I'm Speechless

2008-11-05T15:32:00.001-05:00

For the first time in my life I am proud of my country.

Thank you, America, for making the right choice.

Rrrrrooooooooowwwwwwrrrrr!

2008-10-30T23:14:00.006-04:00

Kidlet decided a few months ago that she didn't have to be afraid of our spazzy cat because he's just a cat, and she's a lion. So, she practiced her roar, and when spazzy cat got too close and/or too... spazzy for her liking, she roared at him, and he ran away.

This is kidlet, roaring:

And this is kidlet, being a lion:

The Mix Tape in the Carseat

2008-10-22T14:45:00.002-04:00

A sampling of the songs that Kidlet knows enough of the words to sing along to:

KT Tunstall: Suddenly I See
John Mayer: Say
Pink: So What
Indigo Girls: Pendulum Swinger
Indigo Girls: Shame on You
John Denver: Rocky Mountain High
Lori McKenna: Drinkin' Problem
Lori McKenna: Unglamorous
Lori McKenna: Fireflies
Lori McKenna: Witness to Your Life
Five for Fighting: The Riddle
Jason Mraz: Life is Wonderful
Jason Mraz: Wordplay
Dierks Bentley: How're You Doin'?

It's a very interesting mix, mostly due to the fact that LT and I have very divergent musical taste. It is, however, both hysterical and distressing to hear one's 3 year old belt out "I think I've got a drinkin' problem" from the back seat.

As I Sit Shivering...

2008-10-20T11:53:00.004-04:00

It is a beautiful, crisp fall day (my favorite kind!).
It's cool enough that I wore my new cashmere coat (and I may never take it off again).
I am currently wearing pants a size smaller than I wore when I was 14.
I have found a facial cleanser and toner (I love you, Bliss!) that makes my face all soft and dewy and even-textured (were it not for my naturally pasty skintone, I would forego the foundation altogether).
Kidlet woke up without a fight, got washed up and dressed without a fight, let me do her hair (pigtails!) without a fight, put her coat and shoes on without a fight, and kissed me bye when I dropped her off at school without a fight.
I do not have to go to Omaha next month.
Barack Obama will be the President-elect in 17 days.
I found a Wii console and Wii Fit in stock and it will be on my back doorstep by Thursday (that last 25 pounds I have to lose will be HISTORY by Christmas!).

I should be happy.
I am not.
I am, in fact, one eyeblink away from becoming Very Unprofessional.

The Menopause Twins have hijacked the thermostat, and I am freezing (literally shivering, with my cashmere coat on, looking utterly foolish, typing with frozen fingers).
My boy-crush is in the office today, visiting from his home base in Bermuda. He said hello (remembered my name!) and in response, I turned crimson and spilled my coffee (am so cool...).
I want to kill my staff. All 2 of them (the third is in China... she hasn't managed to piss me off from halfway around the world yet). Their collective inability to write a coherent sentence, follow simple instructions and/or form an independent thought is completely baffling. I am also amazed by their complete and total lack of problem-solving skills. How did these women get to be nurses!? How did they not KILL every last patient they were responsible for!?
LT is being, excuse my French, a complete and utter asshole. As evidenced by the following: I asked her, approximately 50 times, if she likes my new hair color. Her response, all 50 times, "It's okay". When asked the same question by someone else, in front of our entire collective family, her response: "I hate it. I wish she had left it alone." When asked, the same night, by a different person, what she thinks of my tremendous weight loss and how different I look, her response: "I guess she's happy about it." I can boil her entire attitude down thusly: LT is unhappy that I weigh less than her, that my clothing size is smaller than hers, and that she is the only compulsive over-eater in the house. She is jealous of what I have accomplished in the last 10 months (weight loss aside- great job, going back to school, etc...), and feels inadequate by comparison. She can go fuck herself.
Boss Lady took a personal day today. The resultant slacking off (by myself as well) will only mean much yelling to occur tomorrow when she comes back.
I'm tired this morning. I stayed up too late watching Dexter and True Blood. Have officially replaced food addiction with TV addiction.

I'm going to get some more coffee. Will try not to spill it this time.

I'm Not Whining, But...

2008-10-17T13:37:00.002-04:00

At 2:15pm on this date 16 years ago, at the age of 18 and a freshman in college, I had an abortion. Although I am stridently pro-choice, it was not MY choice to end my pregnancy. I was threatened and forced into it.

At 3:15am today, my junkie cousin's 16 year-old junkie daughter gave birth to the baby she and some unknown fellow junkie conceived while they were in rehab. My aunt is a great-grandmother at the age of 58.

Isn't that nice?

Life: It's What Happens in Between Blog Posts

2008-10-07T11:40:00.002-04:00

Hi! Is anyone out there still reading? Show of hands...

Oh. Um, okay. Whatever. I'll just continue to blither for my own gratification then...

It's been kind of a mixed bag around Suburban Lesbian world. LT is back to working every other weekend again, which would completely suck, except that she's still technically on per diem status, which means she's being paid a ridiculous amount of money to take care of crazy old people. So... I will suffer without her every other weekend if necessary.

My new friend Michael Kors will keep me company...

(I love my new bag!!)

We managed to secure a weekend off 2 weeks ago, and had planned to g visit my BFF in New Hampshire, but Betsy was sick and had to cancel at the last minute (like, the car was packed and I was in the process of buckling Kidlet into her carseat last minute...). So, we changed plans and drove to the White Mountains instead. It was rainy and foggy and most of the foliage was obscured, but what we could see was nearly at peak and really quite spectacular. I grew up near the White Mountains, and although I hated every minute of my childhood there and couldn't wait to escape, I can acknowledge that it is a visually beautiful place to be. We spent Sunday at Storyland, and Kidlet was out. of. her. mind! with the Awesomeness of it all. She rode every single ride and screamed with delight (as opposed to abject terror, which is what we all expected...). Unfortunately, I'm posting from work, so no photographic evidence at the moment... sorry.

This Sunday we engaged in the annual Family Apple Picking Outing. My parents started taking me to Gould Hill orchard to pick apples when I was a little kid, and now it's become and annual tradition that includes LT's folks. The weather was much sunnier and about 10 degrees warmer in southern NH than it was in suburban Boston, so it was a good plan. Unfortunately, I have been suffering from some GI unpleasantness for the past week or so, and was given strict orders for a clear liquid diet through yesterday, so no apples for me. Everyone says they are very tasty. I'll just have to wait until next weekend to find out for myself. Lots of photos were taken on top of the hill, and I am a lovely shade of green in each one.

I finally just bit the bullet and made the decision to just go back to school. I start online classes 10/14 for a business degree. It will take me about a year and a half to finish, and then I can apply to law school. Law school has been my plan all along, but I got a little sidetracked in my 20s and decided to go to nursing school so I could actually earn a living while going to school part time. Then, along came LT, then mortgage and wedding and kid and... well, life. So, with the blessing and financial backin of my employer, I'm back to school.

If I'm going to be a real student, I'll need a new backpack... Does Michael Kors make bookbags?

A Few Random Things So You Don't Think I've Given Up Altogether

2008-09-13T09:37:00.002-04:00

Hi Kids! Miss me?
Sorry... I've been busy getting promoted to AVP (that's Associate Vice President for those of you not acronym-savvy) of Risk Management at my more-awesome-every-day job. My title can best be described as "VP in charge of whatever my boss tells me to do." Which is to say, it's still a bit undefined. But hey! It came with a pay raise, a bonus, and a space inside the parking garage, so it must be important.

Kidlet turned 3 last month. It seems pretty impossible, but I am assured (mostly by her) that it's true. She is now officially potty-trained, so we get the daycare discount and I can let my membership at BJ's lapse now that it won't be necessary to spend the equivalent of the GDP of a small nation on diapers or Pull Ups anymore. Three seems to carry some awesome type of attitude that I was not prepared for. I don't recall being so disgusted with my parents until I was at least 14 years old. How it is that my child could have perfected the eye roll and dramatic sigh so early in her life is perplexing to me. Yeesh!

I've lost 74 pounds since my surgery. Not one single item of clothing that I owned in January is left in my closet. Even my "skinny clothes" are gone. My fall wardrobe is a size 12, which is something like a miracle. I will need some follow-up plastic surgery on my arms and belly, and I estimate that will eliminate another 20 pounds or so. I am still losing pounds, but at a very slow rate, and the general rule is that it takes a year for the weight loss to completely stabilize, so I anticipate I'll lose another 10 or so by next January. After that, the task will be to keep it stable for a few more months, and then I can start to think about follow-up surgery.

I hate to say that's it for now, but it is. Kidlet is at my parents house, LT is at work, and that means I have a Saturday ALL TO MYSELF, and I'm not going to waste it sitting in front of my computer. See ya on the flipside!

Some Travel Required

2008-06-08T13:02:00.002-04:00

I'm just about all packed for my first, ever, last-minute-notice bidniss trip. Boss Lady called me Friday night as I was driving home from work to ask me if I could please fly to LA with her on Tuesday morning at the butt-crack of dawn to do a Due Diligence audit on a company we're acquiring. Um... sure? Boss Lady's boss was supposed to go, but she has to go to Omaha instead and suggested that Boss Lady see if I could take her place. Sure. I can totally take the place of a senior VP with 20 years of industry experience. No problem.

*PANIC*

Bad Blogger! Bad!

2008-06-02T14:28:00.000-04:00

I know I've been not so much with the posting lately, and for that I am sorry. As it turns out, going to a job every day that I actually like keeps me pretty busy doing... uh, work. Therefore, a lot less time to blog. Also, those other people that live in my house are so demanding of my time! They want to, like, talk to me and go places with me and stuff.

I've now surpassed the halfway mark of my weight loss goal. I'm down 55 pounds as of this morning, and I've gone from wearing size 20 pants to size 14. Every day is shocking and amazing when I look at what has been accomplished in such a short amount of time. The outside of me is certainly dramatically different (I haven't weighed less than 200 pounds since high school), but I also just feel so much better.

I can not count the many different kinds of awesome this new job of mine is. I love my boss, and I love her boss, and they both love me, and I feel really good about the work I'm doing and how well I've been able to do it. I was able to understand and pick up and just do this job way faster than I ever would have anticipated, and I don't even mind having to wear pantyhose and high heels and makeup every day (I actually kinda like it). It's done wonders for my self-esteem, and it makes me happy. I help people who need help without having to be immersed in the negative, hectic, stressful, unhealthy environment that most nursing is done in. I walk a fine line between what is good for the Insured and what is good for the company, but I take comfort in knowing that my judgment will always be backed up by my boss, and that insurance policy contracts are binding legal documents.

It's been a pretty busy couple of months around the Suburban Lesbian household. Kidlet is growing like a weed and becoming more and more of an actual person every day, which alternately delights me and freaks me out. LT and I are busy trying to get our house ready to put it on the market. My grandparents' estate has finally been settled, and we are in the process of buying a house lot from the town (the town bought the land from the Estate, and now we need to buy it back... it's so complicated and stupid because of my mother's psycho, mean siblings, but ultimately we will all get what we deserve, so... MOVING ON!). The garden is crazy blooming and gorgeous, so LT is freaking out about actually selling the house, but I keep reminding her that it will be worthwhile in the end if she will JUST CHILL and she can TAKE the goddamn rose bushes with us if they are so important OH MY GOD!

Ahem.

My dear brother sent his Top Chef audition video in 2 weeks ago, and we are now all waiting with bated breath for a decision, which should be coming sometime in the next 2 weeks. He was a finalist for last season and was invited by the production team to submit a new video for the upcoming season, so we are all very hopeful. Fingers crossed, internet!

I'm off now for a board meeting. My colleagues and I are meeting the investors for the first time, and we're all atwitter. And also highly anxious. I'll tell you all about it if I ever manage to post again. Just kidding... it may take me another month to formulate some coherent sentences, but I love my reader(s) too much to abandon you outright.

*Kisses!*

What's Been Going On Around Here

2008-04-19T16:18:00.002-04:00

It's been a relatively busy few weeks in the Suburban Lesbian household.

LT has been working wonky hours splitting her time between a few local hospitals. She worked 2 day shifts and 2 night shifts last week, then her Friday day shift got canceled. She gets well-compensated for this kind of craziness, but I don't envy her schedule one bit.

Another awesome thing about my job: we (the case managers) were all allowed to leave work at noon yesterday because (quoth the CEO): "It's a gorgeous day. You've all been working really hard. Go have fun." Mmmokay!

Kidlet is finally finishing up her latest respiratory badness. She did the febrile barking seal thing for a few days, but she's on the mend now. In retrospect, her sickness might at least partly explain her evilness the week prior. Maybe LT and I really are Mean Mommies...

Tomorrow is my cousin Julie's wedding shower. She's been engaged for so long that I was starting to think that she had gotten married already and I just wasn't invited to the wedding. Since kidlet is feeling better, I'm bringing her with me, but LT has a prior commitment, so she won't be joining us. She's devastated, as you can imagine. We dykes love ourselves a nice wedding shower...

We're seriously considering putting the house back on the market. The house next door is back on, and we think it's under agreement, which we see as a very good sign. Unfortunately, LT has already started her Spring ritual of completely rearranging the entire yard, so we can't do anything just yet. We'll take a couple of months to get things all prettified and then call the realtor. Cross yer fingers!

In case you weren't already aware, Spring has finally, officially arrived here in Metro South, MA. There are green buds everywhere, the hyacinth and daffodils are up, and the hosta are getting ready to make an appearance. Also, I'm seriously thinking about getting off my ass and dragging LT out for a bike ride with me. Right after she finishes transplanting the back yard to the the side yard and moving the hydrangeas to where the rhododendron used to be...

The Psychotic Two's (or, LT and I are Mean! Mommies!)

2008-04-08T13:46:00.001-04:00

Kidlet has been acting like an absolute lunatic lately. By lunatic I mean she's acting like a 2-year-old, and I really wish she'd cut it out because I don't like her very much right now.

She's basically just plain crazy. She makes demands, expects them to be met immediately, and then freaks out when they aren't (LT and I do not respond to any statement that begins with "Give me" or "I want". We're really Mean Mommies like that...). The freakouts always involve ear-splitting crying, as well as throwing oneself on the floor, throwing objects, and just generally acting like a big turd. Lately, most of this behavior has been inspired by us suggesting that she might want to sit on the potty, or come to the table for dinner, or get ready for bed. Forget about even suggesting that she actually go to bed. We are so unreasonable and demanding, LT and I.

By the time I made it home from work last night, Kidlet was starting to show signs of getting over her damn self, and LT told me she had willingly gone upstairs to sit on the potty, so I'm taking that as a hopeful sign.

I woke up this morning from a particularly restful night's sleep to find kidlet sound asleep beside me, looking all adorable and snuggly. LT was in the shower, and when she emerged she told me kidlet had been in and out of our room approximately 56 times until she finally relented and let her get in bed with us at 3:00. She didn't seem sick or freaked out and didn't offer any explanation. Each time LT woke up, she just whispered "Hi Mommy" and then allowed LT to lead her back to her room and tuck her in. By the time I had finished showering and had gotten dressed she was starting to wake up and was almost (dare I say?) cheerful. She didn't even freak out when she realized we had left her breakfast at home on the counter. I'm a little scared I might be paying for this momentary lapse back into "sweet kid" mode, but for now I'm just grateful that we didn't start the day with tears.

For the First Time in My Career, I Don't Wish I Had Just Gone to Law School Like My Dad Said

2008-03-28T22:09:00.003-04:00

I LOVE my new job. Love, love, lovelovelovelovelove LOVE it! Way. Big. Lots.

These are just some of the reasons why:
1. They pay me a lot of money.
2. There are no admissions, transfers or discharges to be facilitated, confused old folks to chase down, meds to give, dressings to change, IVs to hang, crazy families to call Security about, imminent cardiac arrest (mine or anyone else's...), report to give, CNAs to manage, and there is no blood, sputum, poop, or emesis to be found.
3. Company retreat in Bermuda.
4. Working technology (hardware and software), plentiful office supplies, new, matching (not fourth-hand, broken and/or fugly) furniture, and a fully stocked fridge in the break room.
5. No one has called me a bitch.
6. The CEO, the CFO, and my boss all make it a point to stop by my space, say hello, and inquire about how my day is going and whether or not they can help me with anything.
7. Cool, eclectic, fun, completely fucking brilliant minds everywhere.
8. One hour paid lunch breaks. The ability to actually stop working so that I can take care of my own personal physical needs (I know! It's so crazy that it might just work!).
9. See 1 and 2, above.

There's a wicked learning curve, but I'm picking things up really quickly, and I understand the concepts and the process in a totally intuitive way. I love that I'm on the ground floor of a startup company that has unlimited growth potential. I love knowing that I was hand-picked out of 150 applicants for my job. I love that the expectations are high, that the work is challenging, and that performance is rewarded generously. I love that I have the support of a management team that is composed of the most brilliant minds in the industry, and that each of them has a stake in my own personal success or failure.

Law school is expensive. Nursing school was cheap. Sallie Mae owns my ass now, but my new job will pay the ransom pretty quick.

Vacation, All I Ever Wanted

2008-03-18T10:11:00.007-04:00

It's been a very productive week here in suburbia. I've had a lot of spare time on my hands, and have mostly put it to good use.

For example...
My new workspace, let me show you it:
For quite some time now (uh... 2 and a half years...) my desk, etc. has lived in the room that used to be my office but is now Kidlet's bedroom. Now my desk lives in what was the cluttered/wasted space on one end of the living room. The result is that kidlet has her bedroom all to herself, and I can work without being isolated from her and LT. Also, having my workspace so centrally located motivates me to keep it neat and organized. As an added bonus, the window looks out to the front yard, and I can watch the birds at the feeder. Even better than all that is that kidlet can nap without me bothering her (flashbulb notwithstanding, of course...)

(Aaaaw... in't she cute?...)

I've accomplished a few other things, too. Namely:
-Sorted through my clothes and donated everything that is too big for me (read: just about every piece of clothing in my closet).
-Purchased four new outfits for work, complete with shoes, for less than $300 (I *heart* Old Navy and H&M!).
-Planted all the seeds for this year's herb garden.
-Made several pieces to show to a local jewelry consigner

(For Example...)

And...

-Made a pot of most excellent beef stew.
-Scrubbed every surface in the kitchen until my arms ached.
-In a grand testament to my gracelessness, managed to fall down all 13 of my stairs (without hitting my head once on the way down-- that takes talent!).
-Purchased, wrapped, and shipped a shamefully belated wedding gift (hi Gretchen!).
-Sorted through kidlet's toys and disposed of the ones she's outgrown without her even knowing about it.
-Finished 2 Subversive Cross Stitch projects I had started before Christmas.

Still left on the To Do list:
-Practice walking in new high heel shoes (see above: gracelessness, my).
-Call my new boss to find out what time I need to be at my new job on Monday.
-Iron all my new clothes.
-Upload and edit a whole mess of video footage of kidlet being cute.

I'll catch y'all next week...

Im in Yr Insurances, Detrminin Yur Benifitz

2008-03-12T15:41:00.004-04:00

I got the insurance job, bitches!
That's right, I sold my nursing license to the Man and am now going to make a living as a nurse who has nothing whatsoever to do with patients! SCORE!

I know, I know: insurance companies are evil, and they run the world and only care about making money, and nurses are supposed to care about patients and have compassion, etc...

I know, and yet I do not care. If you are a bedside nurse and you find your career rewarding or fun or otherwise wonderful, good for you. I do not find bedside nursing to be rewarding, fun, or otherwise wonderful. In fact, I will be very happy to never have to touch another sick person again.

And Now, The Exciting Conclusion of Amy's Career in Human Services...

2008-03-07T22:39:00.002-05:00

Shortly after I published yesterday's post, I packed up my office, left my keys on my desk and left the building. I had made several attempts to talk to the Boss Man, but he was steadfast in his determination to avoid me, and I took the hint. As I suspected, he had completely pussed out on his promise to fire The Bitch and didn't have the decency to tell me. Basically, she threatened him, and he (once again!) backed down. He told one of my coworkers after I left that he didn't really think I would just walk out the door, and that he thought I would calm down and change my mind. Now, it seemed to me that I was being perfectly clear about my intentions and the fact that I was quite serious when I threw my keys at him and had a super-nuclear meltdown in his office yesterday morning, but he is kind of stupid, and clearly didn't catch on to my oh-so subtle cues. As of this evening, I've heard that he's doing an "investigation" of The Bitch's behavior toward and treatment of her clients and coworkers, and every single staff member who has come into contact with her from day one has been interviewed, and has said the same things: she's a psycho who repeatedly threatened Amy. The Bitch can not be trusted and lies habitually. Etc... My (and my former-coworker-spy person's) guess is that at the conclusion of Boss Man's little investigation, he'll have the paper trail necessary to fire her crazy ass without repercussions. Her soon-to-be-former coworkers are lining up to punch her in the face, and absolutely no one is interested in actually working with her, so even if Boss Man can't manage to grow a set of balls between now and Monday, The Bitch will likely be subjected to a taste of her own medicine. Either way, none of it is my problem anymore.

I went on my second interview for the insurance case management job today, and it went just as well as the first one did. I wish they would just hurry up and make a damn decision, but I should have an offer by Wednesday. Cross your fingers, Internet!

Ba-Boom!

2008-03-06T12:55:00.005-05:00

All of my work frustration and unhappiness and anger came to a head this morning when I overheard the employee who has been the bane of my existence since December telling an outright lie to a client. I'd finally had it, and I decided to call her on it. I told her that the least she could do was be honest with him. After all the uproar and turmoil she has caused (all of which is directly related to the client she was in the process of lying to), it seemed that the right thing to do would be to tell the truth. She reacted (as she has to every other word that has come out of my mouth since December) by running to my colleague and whining/throwing a hissy fit. Three minutes later I heard the Boss Man paging me to his office, and I lost it. I went into his office (where he was sitting with my colleague/co-manager) and handed him my keys. When he wouldn't take them from me, I threw them on his desk. I told him I was completely fed up, and I wasn't going to tolerate another moment of abuse from him or anyone else at this agency. I then managed to articulate (loudly, but without crying) all of the reasons he could go fuck himself. The end result was three-fold.
1. He agreed to fire the employee in question, and called payroll to have them cut her a check.
2. He apologized for being a complete tool.
3. He told me that I am of value to the agency, that my work here is important and appreciated, and that he can not run the agency or the program without me.

Now, three hours after I agreed to take my keys back on the condition that the employee will not be returning, my relief nurse has called to tell me that the Boss Man booked her "on standby" for next week.

To Be Continued...

Good Food, Good Friends, Good Lord, What Next!?

2008-03-05T15:52:00.000-05:00

LT and I finally got around to celebrating our birthdays with our parents this weekend. Ten of us gathered at my brother's restaurant for some fantastic seasonal Northern Italian food. The winter menu includes a take on chicken Parmesan with homemade gnocci that was just awarded "Dinner Worth Driving To" by the Phantom Gourmet. It was quite lovely- we had homemade sausage, pumpkin arroncini, fregola salad and pickled fennel to start, then pasta with rock shrimp in a spicy tomato sauce, and goat cheese ravioli with pistachios and brown butter for the pasta course, then entrees of grilled flank steak, cripsed cod with cheesy polenta, and seared salmon atop Wellfleet clam chowder. Just as we were finishing our entrees, our friend Norman started to look a little gray. I asked him what was wrong, he muttered something about not being able to see properly, and then he was unconscious. There was a little commotion, then EMS arrived. He was arguing with them about whether or not he was going to the hospital when it happened again. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he was gone. When he came back to, he picked up the argument right where it had left off. Out the door and off to the hospital he went. There were some nice long pauses that they were able to capture on the monitor during the ride, so Norman is now the proud owner of a shiny new pacemaker.

I have emerged from survey-hell and am surprisingly alive to tell the tale. Eight months of unbelievable stress and pressure culminated with three days of "chatting" (what he called it) with an elderly gentleman from Kansas who was no more intimidating than my great Uncle Eddie (which is to say, not intimidating. At all.). At the exit conference this morning, he described me as "delightful and professional in the face of enormous challenges and pressure". I almost squeed out loud. Boss Man managed to avoid eye contact from across the table successfully, but he did drop a thank you note and a Dunkin Donuts gift card into my mailbox while I wasn't looking. But I'm not bitter. 8 months of verbal abuse and a complete lack of support or assistance from him can easily be made up for with a caramel swirl iced latte, so it's all good.

I am SO QUITTING THIS JOB on Monday. And I'm calling in sick on Friday.

Stalled!

2008-02-28T08:49:00.003-05:00

The weight loss ticker is stuck at 220 because the scale is, too. I fear I may have had major surgery in order to lose 30 pounds.

I was warned about this. The doctor calls it a "plateau". What he didn't warn me about is the toll this 2-week scale stall would have on my psyche.

LT and I spent last weekend in Provincetown celebrating our 5-year anniversary. There's not much to do in P-town in February except eat out and shop. Eating out is considerably less pleasurable when you can't really eat anything. It's even less pleasurable to be finished eating, feeling like I might explode, and having the waiter send the chef-owner to the table to find out if the food was okay and if he could make me something else, because my plate had been full when it came back to the kitchen. I tried my best not to tear up as I explained that the 1 and a half grilled scallops I had eaten were wonderful- beautifully seared on the outside and just warmed through on the inside- but that I really was full, and thank you so much for being concerned and coming to investigate. I really wanted to eat more. I really wanted to eat all 3 of the scallops and the gorgeously-dressed greens they came with and the delicious-smelling warm sourdough bread, and maybe the calamari and mussels that the guys at the next table had, and one of those yummy-sounding $12 martinis on the drink menu, and could I see the dessert menu, please... All of this, plus the "plateau" I'm in has combined to make me feel sad and regretful.

P'town was otherwise nice (we stayed here, in this room). We drove out in what can only be described as a "wintry mix", so the normally 2-hour trip took about 3 and a half hours. By the next morning, everything was frozen over and completely trecherous. Still, I managed to step into a puddle and soak my jeans from the knees down. When we got back to our room, LT kindly hung them up in front of the fireplace to dry, and then we took a nap. We awoke to the smell of something burning and managed to toss the smoking pants into the bathtub and turn on the shower before the flames got too big. That, and my purchase of These Cowboy Boots, was the highlight of the weekend.

I think they'll look nice with my new fire-distressed jeans, don't you?

An Update! At Last!

2008-02-12T09:32:00.000-05:00

As you can see by the ticker on the left sidebar, the weight loss is progressing rapidly. It's a little bit freaky to see and feel myself shrinking at such a fast pace. I'm still unable to tolerate most solid foods, so I have to work very diligently to meet my daily protein requirements with liquid supplements. I try to have a couple of bites of whatever LT and kidlet are having for dinner, but often it doesn't agree with me and I end up feeling uncomfortable or nauseated. I feel much better when I stick to things like soup and yogurt, although I did have a poached egg on Sunday that didn't cause any major problems. This whole experience is a study in patience, and I'm learning something new about myself and my relationship with food every day.

Kidlet had a very difficult time with the disruption to her routine and my lack of availability while I was in the hospital and immediately after I got home. She does best (as do all young children and most adults, actually) if she has a routine, knows what is coming next, and knows what is expected of her. Kidlet's routines and habits got completely turned upside down when I was out of commission, and she still hasn't recovered. The tantrum-y, whiny, obstinate, occasionally just mean and nasty, demanding, screaming little person that has moved into our house is not someone I'm particularly enamoured with, and I'd really like my kidlet back now please. We had no real idea of what actual toddlers are like because we live with a short adult person. Now that kidlet has embraced her inner toddler, LT and I are keenly aware of just how good we had it for all that time. I swear, though, if the current inhabitant of my house says "No! I want the other Mommy!" to me one more time, I'm going to sell her to the circus.

LT and I both had birthdays this past weekend. We were born 6 years and 2 days apart, so I turned 34 on Friday, and LT turned the big 4-0 on Sunday. We were both horribly sick with a sinus alien, so no big celebrations were had. My brother is planning a dinner thing at his restaurant at the end of the month. Hopefully, I'll be able to eat something by then. LT and I decided that we both wanted bikes for our birthdays, and we bought them last weekend. We spent 5 hours in a bike shop with a very patient man named Sam, and left with 2 Trek mountain bikes and all the accessories, including a helmet and seat for kidlet. LT and I are going to P-Town next weekend for a little kid-free R&R, and we're hoping the bitter cold will have passed by then so we'll be able to do some riding. Cross your fingers!

I have a job interview next Friday. If I get this job, I'll be determining benefit eligibility for a variety of long term care insurance providers. All patient contact is by phone, and there is no clinical contact. I'll be a nurse on paper only. I really, seriously, welcome the change. As toxic as my current work environment is, I have to say that I am really feeling quite DONE with the unique challenges that go along with the mentally retarded. More on that subject later, but for now, just wish me luck that the evil insurance company decides to hire me and provide me with a truly generous salary and benefits package that will make the morning drive up 128 worthwhile.

For now, my work life is consumed with tying up all the loose ends of my current job so that I can appear as professional as possible in my departure. This company has a history of escorting people out the door as soon as they submit their resignation, so there will be no customary 2 weeks to get things to a state from which someone else can easily pick it up. I think this approach is akin to cutting one's nose off to spite one's face, but who am I to argue with a 2-week paid vacation? Since the agency is going to be surveyed shortly after I leave, I feel obligated to make things as neat and pretty as possible so that no one can say I didn't do my job to the best of my ability. It's a sick relationship I have with this place, and it just increases my motivation to get the hell out now.

I think that might be everything I have to say right about now. I'll catch up with you all soon.

Who's Your Daddy?

2008-01-29T16:14:00.000-05:00

Out of nowhere, kidlet came running up to me with her little toy cell phone the other day. "Here!", she said, thrusting the phone at me, "he wants to talk to you". "Who wants to talk to me?", I said. "My daddy", kidlet replied, practically rolling her eyes at my foolishness. "Your daddy? You mean Papa?". "No, my daddy". "Oh". I picked up her phone and said a tentative hello, and then had a few seconds of one-sided conversation before handing the phone back to kidlet. In the most casual tone possible, I said "Hey kidlet, do you have a daddy?" She thought about it for a second and then declared that yes, she did indeed have a daddy. "Do you know what his name is?" Kidlet thought for another moment and replied, "Um. Daddy". Mmkay... "What does he look like?". Another pause, then, "Old". Huh. "Are you sure you don't mean Papa, he's Mama's Daddy, you know". "No, not Papa. My daddy." All I could think to say was, "Oh, okay". Kidlet had already put her phone away and was busy with her crayons, so I let it drop.

I guess I always thought the subject would be brought up by kidlet asking who has daddy is, rather than her demanding that I talk to an imaginary person on a toy cell phone.

I Did Not Die

2008-01-21T11:22:00.001-05:00

I don't know why it came as such a shock, but it HURTS to have abdominal surgery. Especially when the point of that surgery is to remodel the digestive tract. It's deceptive because all I have to show on the outside is six little puncture wounds scattered across my abdomen. All the pain is internal, and it is um... painful.

I woke up in the PACU at about 9pm Tuesday night thoroughly confused about where I was, what had happened, and why I was in so much pain. I had an NG tube, a Foley, 2 JP drains, venodynes, an IV running at 200/hr., O2, and the usual array of monitors attached to me, and as it slowly dawned on me what had happened, all I could think was that something had gone terribly wrong. The nurses kept yelling at me to take deep breaths, and after the third time they yelled, I wanted to yell back. LT was there. She had been on the phone all evening making arrangements for the care of the kid and the dog because she hadn't planned on being at the hospital for so long. She left at about 2am when it was time to take me up to my room. The minute I rolled through the door I wanted (needed!) to get out of bed, and the nice 12 year old nurse helped me up to a chair. Bless that child. My poor spasming back couldn't possibly have managed to lay down for one more minute.

The next couple of days are blurry, but I've been home since Thursday, and with each day the regret I felt upon waking up in the PACU has diminished. I've lost 10 pounds so far. In one week. I have not felt hungry in the least bit, but oh, how I have wanted to eat! I've been dreaming about food, planning ahead to when I can eat anything besides protein shakes (another 2 weeks!), and obsessing about what LT and Kidlet are eating. Yeah. Just 'cuz the junkie is on the wagon doesn't mean she's not still a junkie. Quite the voyage of self-discovery I'm having over here!

LT and kidlet have just left to take the dog to the vet, so I have the house to myself. I'm going to take advantage of the empty house and take a long shower, then maybe a little nap before I have to choke down another protein smoothie.

Off to the Hospital

2008-01-15T08:50:00.000-05:00

This is it, folks. The Big Day has arrived. I'm waiting for my Dad to pick me up and bring me to the hospital. I feel like I've been waiting so long for this that it can't really be happening so soon!
I'll update when I get back home and the Dilaudid haze has cleared.

Brushes with Death

2008-01-08T11:17:00.000-05:00

Something at work is literally trying to kill me. I walked into the file room this morning and a 3 foot fluorescent tube bulb came falling from its fixture and quite literally exploded at my feet. I was showered with glass but luckily not hurt.

Just a few minutes ago the cabinet over my desk FELL OFF THE WALL and landed on my desk three seconds after I had stood up from it. If I had still been sitting there, it would have landed on my head.

Coincidence? Or a clear signal that it's time to quit? You be the judge.

Where I've Been

2008-01-03T14:03:00.000-05:00

Hi! Look! An update! How exciting!

I've been busy. Really busy, people. I'm overwhelmed, actually, with the amount of stuff that is crowding my emotional/mental in-box. I've spent the last several weeks trying to get a grip and sort through all the stuff, and I think I've gotten enough of a handle on it that I can at least talk about some of it, so here goes.

I've made (not-so) veiled reference to the fact that my job sucks. It has now progressed from plain suckitude to completely out of control badness. I have tried to take a "this too shall pass" attitude and try to ride it out, but things have completely broken down now, and I'm in a position where I feel professionally unsafe. I've made the decision to spend the next 4 weeks tying up the loose ends that have been dangling out there while I've been consumed with doing everyone else's job, and then I'm outta here. I actually had a moment the week before Christmas when I would have handed in my keys and just left were I not in the midst of planning and preparing for major surgery. I PROMISE I will divulge all the details soon, but I don't know if anyone from work reads this, and I don't want to say too much when I'm still in a position where I might be punished for it.

So, about that surgery thing... did you all know I'm fat? Like, somewhere between "chubby" and "morbidly obese" fat? I was trying to remember if I've ever mentioned it here, and I don't think so. Over the past year I've been doing a lot of research and exploring my options for losing about 80 pounds of excess weight. I've had some success in changing my head by acknowledging that I'm a food addict and working an OA program, but I really feel like I need more than that. I have a cardiac arrythmia that makes it difficult for me to exercise to my full potential, and therefore I have a mostly sedentary lifestyle. It's all a viscious cycle, and I need something to break the cycle. So, on January 15 I'm having gastric bypass surgery. I haven't really talked about it with anyone except my family and closest friends, so it's weird to see it out there on my computer screen. It's been an emotional struggle for me to come to terms with the fact that I am not in control of my body, and I can't emphasize enough how painful it is to live this way. There are many things that I find it difficult to do because of my weight, but nothing that is impossible. It's not about how I look. I'm not even concerned with passing my bad habits and sick relationship with food on to kidlet. It's that I want my life back. The older I get, the heavier I get, and the more I retreat into my guilt and shame. I fear for the future if this cycle continues, and I'm not so far gone yet that I can't see how much it sucks. I have very mixed emotions about the fact that it will require such drastic measures to get a grip on myself, but the predominant feeling I have is relief that the option is available to me, and hope that it will be a success.

Kidlet is in a very funny stage these days. By that I mean that she is in a stage where she is very funny person. She comes out with these proclamations that make me feel like I'm seeing the future, and the future is sarcastic and attidudinal. My 2 year old actually said "Mama, don't you worry about me. I'm just fine." I swear to god! Can you imagine!? What the hell is that all about? LT and I just stood there, speechless.

I have Christmas pictures to post, but I haven't managed to transfer them from camera to computer yet, so you'll have to wait. This year was actually fun. Kidlet opened one gift at a time, played with it for hours, then said "I open another present now?". The result of this leisurely approach is that we still have gifts to open- one at home and 2 at the grandfolks'. I guess it's good to spread the season out a bit, huh? At this rate, it'll be her birthday before she finishes opening her Christmas gifts. Such a funny little alien I live with.

Now I Don't Feel So Bad

2007-12-21T13:27:00.000-05:00

After cruising by Dr. Brokeback's site and seeing that she hasn't managed a new post since October, I feel a little better about my extreme slacker-ness.

Hi. How's it going? Are you ready for Christmas? I am, believe it or not (and I can scarcely believe it myself). Thanks to the miracle of the Innarnet, I managed to do all my shopping without ever entering a mall. Yay, me!

LT and I are going to the Solstice service tonight at church. I'm looking forward to chilling out with a nice candlelight service and maybe having a quiet, calm Christmas. Monday night is my Mom's annual food orgy, then Tuesday afternoon we all go to LT's folks' house for snacks before LT has to go to work at 3:00. Kidlet had absolutely no interest whatsoever in opening gifts or anything else Christmas-related last year, but this year it's a different story. We got her three gifts we know she'll love, so Christmas morning should actually be fun. Last year, she was like, "Um, I think I'll take a nap now. Can you guys handle this for me?" and we were like "But, we, uh, well, hmm, okay" and opened all her presents for her. When she got up from her nap, she was like "Oh, hey Elmo, what's shaking?". And that was it. This year it might actually be a good idea to charge the video camera battery.

Mele Kalikimaka!
See you next year!

And How Was YOUR Holiday?

2007-11-26T13:56:00.000-05:00

The highlights (err... lowlights?):

Betsy! Yay! (more on that later).

Turkey at Mom's! And carrot cake! Very Yummy and Yay!

Mother in Law knitted me a gorgeous warm and soft and fluffy shawl. Just because. Yay! So sweet!

LT and I put our newly-minted CPR cards to work on a junkie prostitute who wandered into the street and was hit by the car ahead of us. While we were driving home from church, no less! Fortunately, she had a pulse and was moving around and muttering a bit by the time the ambulance arrived and she was breathing at a much more acceptable rate after getting a little Narcan from the friendly paramedics. The off-duty state trooper who stopped to help was kind enough to direct traffic around us as we worked in the middle of the road. That was sweet. After the police got our statements and identification information, we went and got pizza. You know. Just a normal Sunday afternoon...

Real estate transactions are in the works! Fucking super awesome fantastic amazing Yay!

LT's face + a flailing kidlet (specifically her very hard melon of a head) = momentary loss of consciousness and a highly impressive shiner.

Shrek the Third arrived in the mail Friday afternoon. LT, Betsy and I sat on the couch and giggled like idiots for 2 hours.

So, that's all the news for now. More later when I get my shit together.
TTFN!

A Few Tidbits of Randomness

2007-11-20T15:24:00.000-05:00

I'm sorry to have been so absent lately, but lately I've needed to do actual work while I'm here at my desk, and that has significantly cut down on my blogging time. I hope you understand. I still love you.

Work. Yeah. It's an effort to get through a day without crying. Enough said.

I talked to my BFF Betsy on the phone after playing phone tag with her for a few weeks. She lives in NH, near where I went to college. We met about 15 years ago in a women's studies class and practically fell in love with each other. She's 54 years old, and she's a real, live, actual hippie. Since her mother died a few months ago, and she had no one else to take care of, she's been living with our friend Mel and her family on Mel's goat farm (hippies! I told you!) and working part time making Badger Balm. She doesn't do "alone" well, and so we had originally planned for her to come spend some time living with us, but then Mel called and said she could really actually use some help on the farm, so she decided to go there instead. It's just as well. Hippies need to live in the country. They don't do so well in the Suburbs. But anyway... the point is that Betsy is coming on Friday to spend the weekend, and I'm sooooooo excited because I haven't seen her in WAY too long.

Kidlet had her holiday card pictures taken in her Christmas dress. I have no idea how she got to be so photogenic, but she is. There has never been a bad picture taken of this child.

She's holding Baily bear, her latest bestest friend. Her crib now contains her, Baily, Frog, Elmo, Baxter bear, Floppy bear, Fluffy bunny, Myrtle turtle, and Ramunto (he's a dog-- don't ask...). When I go to get her up in the morning, I practically have to dig her out from the pile of stuffed animals and 47 blankets. She's like one of those OCD hoarder people. If she starts refusing to throw stuff away, I'm going to have to stage an intervention.

My Mom is heavy into her Thanksgiving plans. She LIVES for the holidays. The more people in her house at once, the better. I'm bringing my "famous" carrot cake, as requested. I don't think it's all that famous, but it sure is tasty. I have been told by several family members that if I show up without carrot cake, I'm not going to be allowed into the house.

Kidlet has recently entered a nekkid phase. What's up with this? To my knowledge, LT has never been naked in her life. I'm pretty sure she wears socks in the shower. So how is it that her protege is running around all over the place with no clothes on? Is this a normal kid thing, or should I be concerned?

Anyway... Happy, Happy Thanksgiving to all. May your turkey coma be restful.

My Beautiful New Mudroom, Let Me Show You It

2007-11-10T10:14:00.000-05:00

One of several points of contention in the Suburban Lesbian household has been the subject of the entrance into the house. It's a small space about 4x6 feet, and it's the first thing you encounter when you come up the stairs to go in the house. For five years now, it has looked something like this:

(Do not be frightened by the dark pit of Ugly and Mess, dear welcomed guest...)

After the approximately five thousandth time I tripped over some piece o' crap and literally fell into my own kitchen, I'd had enough. Last Saturday was going to be the day. Kidlet was at the grandfolks, LT was at work, I had the house to myself, and it was a rainy, windy day. Perfect conditions for a Project. I made a shopping list, and went to bed with plans to be at Ikea first thing in the morning. You can imagine how disappointed I was when I woke up the next day at... um 2:30 in the afternoon...

My resolve was still strong, so I dragged my ass out of bed, showered, and braved the crowds. Fortunately, there was something of a hurricane going on, and therefore not prime shopping weather. $200 later, I walked out of Ikea with everything I needed for my Project, plus a new living room rug, new curtains for the dining room, a mini table and 2 chairs for kidlet's room, and some other assorted stuff I just couldn't possibly leave behind.

I got home and was finished with the assembly process just as LT was getting home. Lucky her. So I made her help.
Two hours later, we had this:

(We had wine! All this time, I had no idea we had wine!)

After I was all finished and admiring my work, LT asked me why I hadn't done this years ago. And then I killed her and stuffed her body into one of the new recycling bins.

The End.

My Name is Amy, and I'm a Dayquil Addict

2007-11-02T10:21:00.000-04:00

Hi friends! I'm happy to say that I've kicked the Dayquil monkey off my back, and I'm now living Claritin clear. Which is not to say that I've been taking Claritin. It just means that I can breathe through my nose without the aid of pharmaceuticals, and my head is no longer in danger of exploding. I'm just trying to say that I'm (feeling) SUPER, THANKS FOR ASKING...!

(If you know what that is in reference to, you are officially one of the cool kids).

So, life... is crazy! Work is still absolutely ridiculous (as evidenced by the fact that I'm sitting at my desk blogging- hah!), but I'm muddling through the days and have not yet killed anyone. As predicted, Boss has accomplished nothing in the 2 weeks she's been back at work, and is due to be gone for another three months starting on next Wednesday. Whatever. I'm so over it that I don't even want to talk about it anymore. The good news is that Boss's boss and I are interviewing a consultant this afternoon who will take over for Boss and actually help me, oh, I dunno, RUN THE PROGRAM! in Boss's absence. So, yay!

Kidlet has entered an interesting phase in which she does everything at full speed while looking at everything except whatever she is about to crash into/trip over. She has stopped walking and now chooses to run, skip, hop, or dance everywhere instead. She came home from school on Wednesday with a lovely scrape down her otherwise adorable nose. She apparently landed on her face while "walking" (hopping/dancing) back to school from the playground with her class. As of this morning, her nose was obscured by an impressive scab. I'm so glad today is picture day and we can professionally memorialize this moment in kidlet's childhood. We can look back on this photo and say "Remember that sweater Yaya knitted you? And the first time you landed on your face?" Good times, fun times.

See, she was adorable before the maiming!

If I Were a LOLCat...

2007-10-26T16:32:00.000-04:00

This would be me.

Happy Weekend!

The Good. The Bad. The Ugly.

2007-10-25T12:05:00.000-04:00

I'm back just long enough to say how much I've missed you, baby. I can't live without you, and I want to make it work. I'll do whatever it takes to win you back. Come on, baby, think of the good times. Think of all the things we've shared. The intimacy, baby! I've never had that with anyone else...
Okay. I'm giving myself the creeps.

I blame it on the cold medicine. Kidlet gave the gift that keeps on giving, and I've been a sneezy, congested, coughing pile of viral nastiness for the past week. The good: Dayquil makes me able to breathe through my nose. The bad: it tastes like orange-colored ass. The ugly: see paragraph one.

Work. Oh, people. You have no idea. The good: I'm getting the hang of being Queen of the Human Services Universe; Doer of All, Knower of Everything (bow to me, bitches!). The bad: Big Boss resigned last week, leaving me and Boss's Boss to run the world. The ugly: Boss is returning next week for 7 days, which is just long enough to screw things up and totally disrupt the fragile little kingdom I have built. Since my overwhelming desire is to punch Boss in the face, it may indeed be very ugly around here.

Kidlet. The good: OMG, my squooshy is so friggin' cute that I can hardly stand it. The bad: she has discovered whining. The ugly: sustained whining plus coughing and snot production in overdrive equals our house is now a biohazard. The entire house and all its contents needs to be red-bagged and autoclaved.

The Red Sox. The good: Game 1 of the World Series!!! There would be all good, except that I have an appointment this evening near Kenmore Square, and I anticipate burning an entire tank of gas just sitting in the traffic.

I'll be back again soon, baby. I have pictures to show you and things to tell you that will blow your mind, baby! I'll make you all weak in the knees and begging for more. Just you wait...

Mom Music!

2007-10-12T12:26:00.000-04:00

LT's old friend Lori McKenna is making quite a name for herself these days. Some people describe her songs as Mom Music, but I think she just writes about what she knows. Her latest single, "I Know You" is a really great song about her sweet husband Gene. Lori is currently touring with Faith Hill and Tim McGraw, and wrote three of the songs on Faith's album Fireflies (most notably, the song "Stealing Kisses"). Lori has a great voice of her own and due in part to the exposure from Faith and Tim, is becoming more and more well known outside of the Boston area. The link below is to a clip that shows just a glimpse of why.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yzM4SokTGng

(For the full-length version, click here).

The View From My Desk (Part 2, Apparently...)

2007-10-05T12:44:00.000-04:00

Hello there. I live in my office now. Specifically, I live in my office chair. The work, people. Is overwhelming in its volume and irritating-ness. Three jobs for the salary of one makes Amy a very cranky lesbian. It also significantly cuts down on my blogging time. Yesterday, I was trying to decide whether I should quit or have a nervous breakdown. I had almost come to a decision when boss's boss came to see me and asked if I had time to meet with him and Big Boss. Stupidly, I agreed. The meeting was about how I need to step up to the plate and take over more of Former Boss's responsibilities, because things are falling by the wayside that shouldn't. And then my head exploded. The End.

Last night, Mother in Law called to tell me that one of the nurses who works in her office gave her notice. Do I want to be an office nurse? Not particularly. Do I want to be an office nurse for an orthopedic surgeon? Erm. Ever since I fainted in the O.R. that one time in nursing school while I was observing a total hip replacement I've been thoroughly squicked out by all things orthopedic surgery-related. Which is why I became a cardiology nurse. And then I sold my soul to the devil in the guise of the MA Dept. of Mental Retardation in order to secure myself a well-paying mostly office-dwelling job with no nights, weekends, holidays or on-call hours required. Looking back, I think it's safe to say that was the point at which I veered sharply off my career path. Now that I'm in the midst of The Great Work Crisis of 2007, nights and weekends are looking like a small price to pay for a decent paycheck, and I WANT MY SOUL BACK!

I know, I know. Can I possibly be any more vague? After I quit, I'll write a nice post with all the details of the Astonishingly Sucktastic-ness that is my job. And then you all will feel bad for me. Until then, just know that I am thinking of you, my dear Innernet, and counting the moments until we are reunited again.

Update

2007-09-22T13:34:00.000-04:00

The dead thing was a mouse that had crawled into the tall plastic trash can and obviously couldn't get back out...

My boss is not coming back to work. Ever. I now have six weeks to do all the work that she didn't do in the ten months she was up my ass sideways making sure I was doing my job (note: I was doing my job. Plus parts of her job, apparently). Do you think now would be a good time to tell HR that I need to take four weeks off starting in November to have surgery?

LT's folks just called to let us know that they've landed safely at Logan, and after they sleep off the 18 hour flight they'll be over to collect their dog and see kidlet. Oh. And they bought a house in Kauai. You know... on an impulse.

The View From My Desk

2007-09-19T13:39:00.000-04:00

Something (literally) died in ceiling of the the ladies' room near reception. The landlord has sent the cute maintenance boy to find and remove it. Some of us have placed bets on what it is. So far, we have 2 votes for mouse, 1 for rat, 1 for bat, 2 for squirrel, 1 for owl (??), and 3 for snake. Stay tuned for the unveiling of the dead (incredibly stinky!) thing.

Mentally retarded boys have an uncanny fondness for WWE wrestling. As I look out my office door, I see a total of approximately 15 mentally retarded boys, 8 of whom are wearing WWE t-shirts. It just occurred to me this morning that this not at all unusual. All you non-mentally retarded boys may want to keep this in mind.

Kidlet's picture is all warped and funny on my sidebar, and that annoys me. I think I'll change it (again!), so that by the time anyone reads this, you'll have no idea what I'm talking about. I'm crafty like that.

Someone stole my last fun-size (what, exactly, is "fun" about a small candy bar, by the way?) from my desk. When I find them, I will kill them.

MassHealth auditors are here checking out our financial records. Every half hour or so, my boss pokes his ashen face into my office and says "they need _____ !!!!!!", which I then produce for him. My nonchalance with this whole process is obviously freaking him out. More than usual, I mean.

The smell of the dead thing has now wafted down the hall and into my office. I have now officially lost my appetite for Snickers bars of all sizes, so will no longer have to kill whoever stole it. Lucky for them.

I'm taking tomorrow off from work. I may come to regret this decision on Friday when I come back to find that all hell has broken loose, but for now I'm enjoying knowing that I can stay up late enough to watch Top Chef tonight because I don't have to get up until 8:00 tomorrow morning. I'm going to be spending the entire day at the hospital, so it's not exactly a vacation day, but, again, Amy gets to sleep late=vacation.

LT and I are considering taking a drive to the Big E on Saturday. Anybody out there been this year? It would be kidlet's first fair, which might make it worth the drive (and also: fried dough!). I'm only hesitant because huge crowds make me squick, but I think we've established that taking time off from work is generally not a good plan, so Saturday is really our only option.

I found my Snicker's bar under a pile of paperwork. Anybody want it?

The Week In Review

2007-09-14T10:35:00.000-04:00

Oh, Internet. I'm so very tired. Hold me while I weep from exhaustion...

My job continues to suck the life force from my... um... wherever life force is stored. Liver? Dunno....
LT is similarly outta her mind because her entire staff has basically up and quit as a direct result of the director of nursing being the most giant bitch imaginable. People: you can not have a nursing home without nurses. It's not a Several Surly CNAs and a Disgruntled Housekeeper Home. So, when seven of your nurses resign within a 4-day time period, it's time to panic! Perhaps, even, to evaluate what responsibility you may have for this potentially catastrophic event. Telling your assistant DON she'll just have to "pick up the slack" while you continue to piss off and alienate nurses that have worked at the home for over 20 years is really not the best course of action. Also: it makes LT cry. And that makes me angry.

Meanwhile, there is a toddler at home with yet another upper respiratory bug. Kidlet enjoys expressing her extreme displeasure with being sick in the most frequent and annoying manner possible. Generally, there is whining involved. Also crying, and clinging and spreading misery throughout the land.

We spent last Saturday melting in my cousin's yard (94 degrees and 74% humidity!) for a family reunion. This is my mother's family, and there is currently a big ugliness with my Mom and her surviving siblings having to do with my grandparents' estate. There has been a lot of public mudslinging and crazy behavior by my mother's brother, including a blog where he has begun publishing Unabomber-like manifestos and threatening town officials and my mother by name. This has resulted in him being barred from town meetings and hearings. It has also resulted in him being removed as Executor of the estate. This has further pissed him off, so he and his douchebag son thought it would be okay to use the reunion to make nasty comments and loudly proclaim to the entire family that my mother is trying to "steal" from him, that I and LT are "degenerates" and that our child should be taken away from us. Fortunately, my mother's cousins physically removed the two of them from the property shortly after the crazy behavior started. Still, it was embarassing for me, LT and my mother. LT had never met many of the people at the reunion, and I hadn't seen some of my cousins for years, so it really sucked that I spent the day fighting back tears and that my family had to spend the day expressing their anger and disbelief at my uncle and cousin's behavior, rather than enjoying themselves.

The good news is that because of my uncle's very public, very bizarre behavior, my parents, my brother and I are one step closer to being able to take posession of our inheritance (16 acres of land and the proceeds from the sale of another 8 acres), which means that nearly eight years after my grandfather's death, his wishes may actually be carried out. Until very recently, I had given up on ever being able to build my home on land that has been in my mother's family for over 300 years as my grandparents had intended. Now that the town doesn't have to negotiate with the Crazy Man, they have made an offer to buy the 8 acres for a somewhat staggering amount of money. The land had been leased to the town for the last 50 years, and now that the lease is up, they want to buy it. It's all very complicated and I don't fully understand everything, but the bottom line is that the town will vote in April to approve the sale price, and the cash proceeds will be split between my brother, my parents and myself. The intention was that my brother and I use the cash to build on the land that we will inherit when the estate is totally settled, and my parents can take their money and do whatever they want with it. My 2 surviving aunts and the Douchebag have a similar deal, but my uncle is pissed because the parcel that my parents have been willed is more valuable and includes my grandparents' house. My uncle's contention is that my mother doesn't "deserve" the house that my grandfather built with his own hands, and that it should be sold. My mother was left the house and the 24 abutting acres because she and my father moved from their home in New Hampshire to live in my grandparents' home and help take care of my demented grandmother when none of her siblings were willing to. My grandfather amended his will to reflect the fact that my parents had made a major sacrifice in picking up and moving their lives to another state in order to help carry out my grandmother's wishes to not end up in a nursing home. My grandfather ended up dying unexpectedly four months after he made the change to the will, and my parents spent the next 5 years taking care of my grandmother in her home until her death in her own bed on Christmas day of 2001. The day after my grandmother's funeral, my uncle served eviction papers to my parents. And it all got ugly from there. The bottom line for me is that once all this is settled, I can completely cut ties with my uncle, and won't have to read or hear another word from him again.

LT's parents are finishing up their first week in Kauai, which means that LT and I are finishing our first week of dogsitting their 85 pound German shepard, Joy (Or "Auntie Joy", as kidlet calls her). She's very sweet and has a terrifying bark, but she's too big for our house. Fortunately, the weather has been really nice, and she and Daisy have spent most of their time outside wrestling and chasing bunnies in the back yard. The folks called from Poipu beach to give us the weather and surf report, and to maybe also gloat a little. They'll be back next Saturday, all tanned and refreshed, which will make it just that much harder for me to wait for next September when it will be their turn to dogsit for 10 days.

I'm too tired to type any more, so I'm going to lock my office door and take a little nap now. Nighty night...

Cheer up, Mum, it's Friday!

Where Were You Six Years Ago Today?

2007-09-11T12:51:00.000-04:00

I was sitting in an OB lecture on a gorgeous crisp fall day. I was in my last year of nursing school, and was driving a 4 hour round trip from home to school to work and back home five days a week. I was living in a rented house in Grafton, NH and working full-time at Dartmouth-Hitchcock Medical Center in Lebanon. School was in Concord, NH. At 9:00, we had just begun a ten minute break in the lecture when the instructor came hurrying back into the room, looking pale and a bit panic-stricken. "Can I have everyone's attention, please!", she called out in a tense voice. The room quieted, and she continued. "Something has happened, and I don't know what it means, but a plane has crashed into the world trade center in New York." The door opened, an another instructor wheeled in a TV. We weren't able to get a picture, but we could get sound, so we listened as the voice of a newscaster announced that a second plane had hit the other tower and both buildings were on fire. The voice described the sights and sounds that have by now been burned into the consciousness of every American. It all seemed a little unreal, and at the time, I had no idea what I was hearing.

Class was dismissed for the day, and I left school and drove home thinking that there had been a plane crash. I didn't know then that one of my classmate's mother was the lead flight attendant on United 175. It hadn't yet occurred to me that it was anything more than an accident. By the time I got home, after an hour of listening to NPR, it began to sink in that this was not an accident. It was the beginning of a war.

I wandered around my empty house, pacing restlessly and listening to NPR. I felt helpless and scared and sad. I didn't know what to do with myself. I didn't have to work that night, and I couldn't stay still long enough to study or do anything productive, so I took my dog out for a long walk. By the time I got back, New York was on lockdown, the Pentagon was still on fire, and there were reports of a fourth hijacked plane having crashed in a field in Pennsylvania. I turned off the radio, made some dinner, and sat down with a book. I went to bed and tossed and turned all night.

The hospital was eerily quiet and somber when I arrived for work on Wednesday afternoon. The staff had been notified Wednesday morning that one of our former residents had been aboard American flight 77. I saw the pictures on TV for the first time, and I had to sit down. The patient whose room I was in at the time shook his head sadly "This will be one of your generation's defining moments. You'll always remember how you feel right now, and where you were yesterday. These images will be burned into your consciousness. Your world will never be the same again."

Please To Be Sharing With Your Opinion...

2007-09-07T10:17:00.001-04:00

I Expect DSS Will Be Paying the Suburban Lesbian Household A Visit Any Day Now...

2007-09-06T12:26:00.000-04:00

Approximately 46 seconds after LT and I finished putting kidlet's new swing set together and approximately 12 seconds after the photo to the left was taken, kidlet sustained her first swingset-related injury. Baby's first black eye. There are no photos of the carnage to post because the last thing LT and I need is photographic evidence of our parental ineptitude. Neither of us saw the injury actually occur, because I was busy lighting my crack pipe, and LT was distracted by the random stranger she was having sex with. I heard kidlet crying and nonchalantly strolled over to the back of the little "clubhouse" part of the swingset to find kidlet sitting on the ground at the bottom of the steps with her hand over her right eye. "I go boom!", she wailed. I took her hand away from her eye to find a red bump just below her eye (and was relieved to find her eyeball still firmly in place in its customary location) and said "Do you want Mama to kiss it better?". Kidlet nodded, I gave her a big, goopy kiss, and all was right with the Universe. I demonstrated proper step-climbing technique, and kidlet spent another half hour happily playing on the slide.

I had completely forgotten kidlet's "bump" (and also most of my nursing education) by the time dinner was over. By the time we put kidlet to bed, she had a dime-sized light purple bruise on her cheek, just below her eye. No biggie, I thought.

The next morning, kidlet woke me up calling "Mama, my cheeky hurts". Imagine my surprise upon seeing kidlet standing up in her crib with a black eye. "Whaa-", I stammered, "Oh my God. Who punched you in your poor little face?" Inside, I was screaming "Holy fuck! Someone snuck into the house last night and punched my kid in the face!" Then I remembered the swingset incident from the night before. I gave her a bunch of goopy kisses and apologized for being a poor excuse for a mother and a negligent nurse, and kidlet giggled her infectious little giggle and said "Silly Mama". When we arrived at daycare and her teacher looked at her and gasped, "Kidlet has a boo-boo! What happened?", kidlet replied "Silly Mama punched me in the face!"

This Proves that I am a Girl

2007-09-04T13:06:00.000-04:00

What was the highlight of my holiday weekend?

VINTAGE PURPLE LEATHER FERRAGAMO BAG.

That is all. As you were.

The Post In Which I Make Random, Whiny Statements.

2007-08-31T10:48:00.000-04:00

Indulge me. I have some whining to do. Are you ready? No? Well, too bad. It's my party and I'll cry if I want to.
How many times can a person sneeze before they turn themselves inside out? Stay tuned. I may have an answer for you soon.
My boss came back from vacation and was at work for 4 hours before she had to be taken to the hospital because of excruciating abdominal pain. Ruptured diverticula. IV antibiotics. Surgery today. Hemi-colectomy? Definitely. Colostomy? Quite possibly. MassHealth surveyors coming next month to certify the program? Oh, yeah. Percent chance that Boss will be out of the hospital and back to work before then? Minus ten. Amy panicking just a bit? Mmmm. Hmmmm.
Bye, bye annual week-long vacation on Martha's Vineyard! Hope you and all my friends have a great time!
And I wonder why I haven't been able to sleep all week.
New Target being built on the halfway point between work and home is being framed today. Big trucks carrying enormous slabs of concrete caused traffic to back up so far that it took me 20 minutes to travel the 1.7 miles from home to work. On the plus side: NEW TARGET STORE BEING BUILT BASICALLY ACROSS THE STREET FROM MY HOUSE OMG!!! I know I will change my tune significantly when the place opens and I can't turn off my street because the traffic is so congested, so I will just be happy until the theoretic traffic becomes actual traffic.
This headache that won't go away? Sucks. Ass. I am done with you now. Please go bother someone else.
I have to drive toward the Cape on a Friday before a holiday weekend to pick up my kid at her grandfolks house. Am supremely stupid.
Speaking of kidlet: grandfolks bought and sent her a super-cool swingset/slide/clubhouse for her birthday. LT managed to assemble it only to find that it was missing the beam that the swings are supposed to hang from, and that basically holds the whole thing together. Lovely as it is, it's not exactly what I would choose as a lawn ornament. Plus, the whining from kidlet and the crying that ensues when we explain that she can't "swing" yet makes my ears bleed. Toddlers don't understand global supply and shipping logistics, and no amount of explanation is going to convince her that her parents are not just mean and/or lazy and won't finish putting her swingset together. LT is a good Mommy, so she called the company, told them the saga of the Missing Piece, and they promised to overnight it to us. Two weeks ago. The next time we call to inquire as to the location of said missing piece, I'm going to put kidlet on the phone so she can express her supreme disappointment to the nice lady herself. My translation lacks the much-needed sense of urgency that only kidlet can so expertly convey.
Daisy-dog is allergic to something in the yard/air at this time of year. Fortunately, this lasts only a couple of weeks every year, but she spends all night scratching. Next to the bed. Benadryl, oatmeal baths, etc. have little effect. Her sad little doggy face hurts my heart.
LT's folks leave next week for Kauai. I do not leave for Kauai until a year from next week. Waaaaa!
I have one positive thing to say: It is currently 12:30 on the Friday before a long holiday weekend, and I can lock my office door behind me in just 2 and a half short hours. I should probably get some work done.
Happy, healthy, safe Labor Day weekend for everyone!

Least Complicated

2007-08-24T23:39:00.002-04:00

I remember very clearly the first time I heard the song "Closer to Fine". I was 15 years old and was in Strawberry's buying a Johnny Clegg & Savuka CD when it came on the store's sound system. I stood there and listened and felt something I had never felt before. I couldn't explain it then, and I'm not even sure I can now, but it was as though someone was finally speaking my language for the first time. I asked the guy behind the counter who the song was by, and he told me it was some folk band from Georgia called Indigo Girls. He said the album was due to be released the following Tuesday, and offered to put aside a cassette (!!) for me. I gave him my name, thanked him, and walked back next door to the grocery store to find my Mom. The following Friday, I conned my Mother into taking me back to the record store (a 50 minute drive from our house in the middle of nowhere) so I could buy the tape. I brought it home and played it continuously.

The following week, I brought the tape with me to play for my music teacher, who had also become my friend. Ellen had bought the tape the same weekend as I and and she said she had the same visceral reaction to it as I had. For my birthday that year, Ellen gave me a book with the sheet music from the album, and I spent so much time with it and my guitar that Ellen started calling me the third Indigo Girl.

I saw the video on VH1 that summer when I was visiting family who actually had cable. Watching those 2 women on the TV for the first time provoked an entirely different visceral reaction that it took me another 4 years to figure out. I was absolutely fascinated by Amy Ray- her raw, raspy voice, the lyrics she wrote that I didn't quite totally understand but still rang so true to me, the way she looked ever so slightly androgynous in her 501 jeans and cowboy boots, and that tattoo on her forearm! There was something so mysterious but still familiar about her.

I think I was 17 the second time I saw the Indigo Girls at Dartmouth College, and someone near me in the audience said the word "lesbian". I don't know what the person was talking about, but that one word just rang out and echoed around my head all evening. On the drive home, I asked Ellen if she thought Amy and Emily were lesbians, and she just shrugged. At the time, Ellen didn't even know she was a lesbian yet, so I don't know why I expected her to have any more insight than I did.

I was nineteen when I saw the Indigo Girls for the 7th or 8th time. The show was at UMass Amherst, and I went with a bunch of friends. Emily introduced the song "Least Complicated" with the story of how she gave a ring to a boy named Danny when she was in junior high school and knew immediately that it "wasn't the cool thing to do". And then she launched into another song that I practically knew all the words to because I could have written it myself. Right then and there, the realization that I was completely in love with my boyfriend's sister hit me like a ton of bricks, and it all became totally clear to me. (Boyfriend took the news well, and his sister and I were together for 9 years before we went our separate ways)

Last night, I sat next to LT in a small ampitheater in my hometown and watched the Indigo Girls sing all the songs that I knew by heart. It's been about 6 years since I saw them for the twelfth time (at Great Woods in Mansfield), but it felt like it had only been a few days. I sang along and cried and danced for the first time since my wedding and I felt just like I was visiting with old friends that I hadn't seen since that day in the record store. I don't know how I managed to go all this time without that feeling, but I guess I didn't know that I had missed it until I had it back again.

WHY? Um... 'Cuz

2007-08-24T10:44:00.000-04:00

Have I mentioned lately that my baby is now a toddler? I think I might have. Have I mentioned that living with a toddler is sometimes enough to make me want to stick my head in the oven? (Have I mentioned that my oven is electric?) The latest addition to the kidlet's toddler repetoire is that which I have been dreading since she was a zygote. The "Why?" Game. Oh yes. It's here.

What's that? You don't know how to play The "Why?" Game? Here is a demonstration:
Mama: "Kidlet, time to get up."
Kidlet: "Why?"
Mama: "Because you have to get dressed for school."
Kidlet: "Why?"
Mama: "Because you can't go to school naked."
Kidlet: "Why?"
Mama: "Because in our society, people do not go out in public naked."
Kidlet: "Why?"
Mama: "Because Massachusetts was founded by English Puritans who believed that being naked is sinful."
Kidlet: "Why?"
Mama: "Because it makes people think about sex."
Kidlet: "Why?"
Mama: "Because people are usually naked when they have sex."
Kidlet: "Why?"
Mama: "Because it's easier that way."
Kidlet: "Why?"
Mama: [head explodes]

The "Why?" Game can not be played in reverse, however. This tidbit of information came as a complete surprise to me. As it turns out, the rules of The "Why?" Game are rigid, and the script is not to be deviated from. So, when I walk into the kitchen and say "Kidlet, why is every sippy cup and plastic bowl you own on the floor?" The response to my question is "Um... 'Cuz". When I say "Why is your bowl of yogurt on top of your head like a hat?" Response: "Um... 'Cuz." When I say "Kidlet, for the love of God, WHY do you feel the need to drink your soapy bath water!?" The response is (wait for it...) "Um... 'Cuz."

WHY are LT and I going to spend our kidlet-free Friday night getting drunk in a hotel room? UM... 'CUZ!

Happy Birthday to Kidlet!

2007-08-18T22:38:00.000-04:00

The highlights of Kidlet's birthday party:

Mmmmm... Cake!
Watermelon's not bad, either...

A Neeeeeeeew Car!

One of the 46 new toys that make noise!

Also: approximately 100 friends and family stopped by, including all of Kidlet's daycare teachers and several of the other kids in her class. People brought gifts even though we had asked them not to, and Kidlet is especially enamored of the baby and toy stroller her friend Alexys brought her. She has dragged the baby everywhere with her and is occupied for hours pushing the baby around in the stroller. I asked her yesterday what her baby's name is, and she looked at me like I'm crazy, rolled her eyes and replied "Um... Baby". Of course. Silly me.

Oh, Hello There! Didja Miss Me?

2007-08-14T13:14:00.000-04:00

We're back from vacation. It was way too short and not terribly restful, but vacation=Amy gets to sleep past 6:30am, which is really all I need to make life worth living. LT and I decided to forego the Big Vacation this year because we're getting ready to plan an addition to the house, and we need to fatten up the savings account a little before we go doubling the size of our house. So, we drove out to P-town for a few days. We stayed at the Provincetown Inn, which was the only place that still had rooms available and would allow us to bring the kidlet. We usually stay at the Brass Key or the Benchmark Inn, but neither allow children, so... Anyhoo, the P-Town Inn was an okay alternative if I don't think about the rock-hard beds, the sandpaper towels, the completely clogged tub drain, or the fact that the toilet was loose and actually tipped over a bit if I leaned too far (unsettling, to say the least). It was definitely NOT four star lodging. There was a nice mix of gay and straight families and couples, and the pool was really nice. They advertise a private beach, but it was low tide and all mud flats between the sand and the water. Fine for digging clams. Not so much for anything else. We were far enough from the craziness of Commercial street that it was quiet, but close enough to walk. A couple of drag queens made a fuss over kidlet's "fierce" sunglasses, and she was absolutely transfixed by them. She waved and smiled and chatted and made me want to choke myself for having left the camera in the car. It was very nice to be among "my people" and to feel completely normal and at ease being a family. I spend a lot of energy being on the lookout for a dirty look, or a rude stare, or for something to be said. I know that the day will come when kidlet will have to deal with the reality of her family and that there are stupid people all over the place, but I'm just not ready for it yet. I cringe every time someone asks which of us is the mother, and I always brace myself for the fallout when I answer (honestly: we're both her mothers). The fact that there really has been no fallout doesn't decrease my anxiety, but maybe someday I will learn to chill. Until that day, it's nice to be able to leave my worries behind and take a 2 hour drive to a place where drag queens roam wild and 2 women pushing a stroller can just be Mom.

Because The Word "Poop" Appears 8 Times in this Blog

2007-08-03T12:14:00.000-04:00

Mingle² - Austin Singles

A Typical Night With The Suburban Lesbian Family

2007-08-02T19:35:00.000-04:00

The setting: A suburban lesbian kitchen.
Two Moms are puttering around, making dinner, cleaning up, etc.
An alarmingly verbal, adorable and polite child is sitting on the floor, paging through Hop On Pop. She speaks.

Kidlet: Mama, juice, please?
Mama: You want your juice before dinner?
Kidlet: Yes, please.
Mama: Okay [pours juice into a sippy cup and hands it to kidlet]
Kidlet: [reaching for juice] Thank you.
Mama: You're wel--
[Mama voice is suddenly drowned out by a screaming Kidlet, who has dropped her sippy cup as of it were hot, and has thrown herself on the floor in a pose of abject misery]
Mommy: [turns away from the sink to see kidlet in meltdown mode] What the...?
Mama: Kidlet, what's the matter?
Kidlet: [begins rolling from side to side, screaming and sobbing] Juice is cold! Warm juice!
[Mama and Mommy exchange looks of complete confusion. They do not comprehend what is being asked of them.]
Mommy: Kidlet, what's wrong?
Kidlet: [wails] Warm kidlet's juice!
Mama: [turns back to the stove to continue cooking dinner] Whatever, kid. Drink your juice. Get a grip on yourself.
Mommy: [Puts sippy cup in the microwave for 10 seconds. Hands it back to kidlet, who has been calmly awaiting the microwave beep.]
Kidlet: [Takes juice and takes a sip. Throws cup down in disgust and begins sobbing, screaming, and rolling on the floor again.]
Mama: Now what?
Kidlet: Juice warm! Ice in kidlet's juice?
Mommy: [puts 2 ice cubes in kidlet's juice] Okay?
Kidlet: [takes juice, takes a sip, throws cup down, cycle begins anew]
Mommy: [to Mama] What do you suppose is wrong with that kid?
Mama: Um, Mommy, she's almost 2.
Mommy: [nodding} Oooohhh! Yes. Of course.

End scene.

One Sentence

2007-07-25T15:52:00.000-04:00

I'm proud to say that my One Sentence story was not only accepted and published, but is #4 on the "Most Popular" page. Click here to read my submission, and make sure you check out the archives while you're there. I find this site to be almost as addictive as I Can Has Cheezburger.

P.S. Be sure to click on the little "thumbs up" icon if you like it. If you don't like it, keep it to yourself!

An Open Letter

2007-07-23T12:05:00.000-04:00

To everyone else who starts their day with a fine Dunkin Donuts beverage and drives through the same DD as myself (you know who you are):

1. Pull your car up behind the one in front of you. Do not leave a car-length (or more) of space between you and the car in front. If you checked your rear-view mirror once in a while, you'd see the line of people behind you are blocking traffic and can't even get into the line because you're too worried about the paint job on your preshus Lexus.

2. While I'm on the subject... if you are unable to pull all the way into the line because of the douchbag in front of you, at least pull over to the side so that people can get around you to exit the parking lot.

3. When the line is such that you are forced to wait to pull into the drive-up lane, do not cut in front of me. It is obvious that I was here first. My gas-hogging SUV is way bigger than your midlife-crisis penis substitute, and I WILL CRUSH YOU!

4(A). A special aside to the non-English speaking person on the other end of the speaker: Please stop making me repeat my order 6 times. It makes me mad. Especially when it still ends up wrong.
4(B). However, despite the fact that you have angered me before I've had my coffee (duh), I still manage to smile at you and say good morning. Would it kill you to crack a smile and maybe return the greeting (in your native language, even, if necessary)? Being deaf and/or non-English speaking and possibly just slightly dim-witted doesn't make you a bad person. Being rude does.

Thank you for your attention.
Sincerely yours-
Amy

I'm Not Dead (Yet)

2007-07-19T10:13:00.000-04:00

I'm in a NyQuil and Sudafed haze. It has helped a little to dissolve the rubber cement that someone has filled my sinuses with, so if I were at home either in my cozy bed or on my couch watching TV, I'd say I'm feeling okay. But I'm not. I'm at my desk, struggling to stay awake and pretending to be productive.

Stupid cold. I took a (planned in advance, because I have to hire an agency nurse to cover when I'm not here) sick day on Tuesday. LT took kidlet to school for me, and I slept until 10:30am. It was heavenly. Then I felt guilty about wasting a perfectly good day, so I got up and cleaned the kitchen, baked banana bread and chocolate chip cookies, made a cauliflower gratin for dinner, picked some zucchini, lettuce and green beans from the garden, made some vetiver cologne for my brother, unmolded and sliced 2 batches of soap, repaired a necklace for a coworker and re-sized a bracelet for my aunt, and put away several loads of clean laundry. I also sneezed, coughed, and blew my nose a lot. I did not, however, shower. It was the most productive day I've had in quite some time.

I woke up Saturday a.m. with a sore throat and a bit of a runny nose. I thought it was maybe allergies or too much time in the A/C at work, but by the time we got to the preschool BBQ/pool party it was clear that I was sick. Still, I managed to snap one of the cutest photos of all time:

Stay off the sidewalks, people!

Friday Five

2007-07-13T09:54:00.000-04:00

1. Indigo Girls tickets arrived in the mail yesterday. Awesome seats in a small venue (the same one I saw Sha-Na-Na at when I was 9 years old, BTW). Haven't seen the Girls since my senior year in college, and haven't been to a concert since I saw k.d. lang at the Opera House in 2002. I'm way overdue.

2. But how did he get back down? Why didn't I think of this?

3. Weekend plans: going to kidlet's preschool BBQ/pool party tomorrow. Weather is supposed to be gorgeous. No plans for Sunday yet, but I'm sure LT will come up with a project for us.

4. The vegetable garden is amazing this year. Zucchini, eggplant, summer squash, lettuce and green beans already. Tomatoes, beets, broccoli, cucumbers and Brussels sprouts not far behind. It's been a very good growing season so far. LT also made me a perennial herb garden last weekend and planted rosemary, lavender, soapwort, and lemon balm. She's so good to me!

5. It's 10am. So far, I have successfully cleared a blocked SPT, averted a behavioral crisis in an autistic guy with Marfan's syndrome (read: tall, feels no pain, occasionally psychotic... I still have prominently visible scars from my last go-round with him when I wasn't able to prevent the crisis, only to intervene), taught a class on personal boundaries and appropriate touch, finished the first draft of the medication policy/procedure manual, explained why I do not want to be addressed as "Nurse Sugar Lips" to a high-functioning guy with Down's syndrome (who really knows better but is just trying to push my buttons), returned three phone calls, checked my email 46 times, and caught my boss up on what she missed yesterday. I've accomplished more in 2 hours than I usually get done in a week. I think I should get to go home now.

Have a happy, safe weekend, Internet!

Toilet Training: A Play in Several Acts (Act III)

2007-07-12T16:18:00.000-04:00

Kidlet: Poop on the potty?

Amy: Do you need to poop?

Kidlet: [nodding] Yeah!

Kidlet climbs stairs, Amy follows behind.
Interior: bathroom

Kidlet: Diapa off?

Amy: Yup. Diaper off [undresses kidlet from the waist down]

Kidlet: [sits on potty] Poop?

Amy: Go for it!

Kidlet: [makes scrunched-up poopy face] All done!

Amy: [looks in potty, finds it empty] I thought you had to poop.

Kidlet: [nods furiously] Poop on the potty!

Amy: There's no poop there.

Kidlet: [clapping] Yay kidlet! Poop on the potty! Big girl! [does potty dance]

Amy: [looks in potty again. Really. No poop in there]

Kidlet: [dances into her bedroom] New diapa?

Amy: [sighs] Whatever...

Things That Suck

2007-07-12T09:04:00.000-04:00

1. Falling asleep on the couch after unsuccessfully trying to stay up long enough to watch the end of Top Chef.

2. Waking up to an infomercial for that flashlight that sprays pepper spray (I thought I was dreaming...).

3. Stumbling upstairs to fall asleep in bed and realizing that it's time to get up. And also: LT's rude method of waking/keeping me awake (I won't divulge the details, but trust me when I say it is RUDE!).

4. The only clean bra I could find this morning is the black lacy push-up one with the pokey underwires.

5. The line at the Dunkin Donuts drive thru in the morning.

6. Boss calling in sick and leaving me to cover the meeting at which Boss was supposed to deliver the bad news to the assaultive, profoundly mentally retarded, "medically complex" (the understatement of the century, BTW), behavioral nightmare that was referred to our agency for day services. No. We can not handle you even on your good days when you only have 10-12 seizures and are only self-injurious and only try to elope a few times. So sorry.

7. It is not yet Friday? How can that be?

8. Kidlet has outgrown every pair of shorts she owns. It's only July! Damn her cute little snackable thunder thighs!

9. INR is 8.2 this week. After being therapeutic for 18 months on the same Coumadin dose? I don't think so. Can we say "lab error"?

10. Grocery day: Tuesday. LT informing me that we need to bring something to Saturday's BBQ: Wednesday. Will kill LT: tonight.

11. Stupid people doing stupid things at stupid times that interfere with my life/schedule/happiness/ability to drink my fucking coffee in PEACE!

12. Stupid weather. Stupid lying stupid weather man. Stupid humidity.

13. Leaving my lunch on the kitchen counter. Again.

14. Forgetting to give my eye Dr. my new address two years ago (note: LT and I bought our house almost 5 years ago). Getting a collection notice 3 weeks ago. Calling office to apologize profusely and promise to mail a check that very day. Mailing check. Having check returned to me by the post office 2 weeks later because the Dr. has a new address and the US postal service doesn't know what it is!

15. Someone keeps stealing my pens. And my Post-It notes.

16. This post.

New England Weather Report

2007-07-09T13:04:00.000-04:00

It's feeling like what I imagine the weather is in the rain forests- impossibly hot, no trace of a breeze, and so humid that to take a deep breath is to risk drowning. This is what I hate about living in New England. I can handle the snow, I love the crisp fall air, and most of the summer is bearable. I can't tolerate the humidity. On days like this, it almost becomes possible to convince LT to move to Kauai. Give me a week of this weather and she'll be helping me pack. Of course, it never really lasts a week. That old saying about New England weather ("If you don't like it, wait a minute.") is very true. I assume they have thunder storms on Kauai, but I have to say that the thunder storms we used to get when I lived in the Monadnock valley of New Hampshire made this humid weather worthwhile. I could sit on my back porch in Jaffrey for hours and watch the lightning. The storm would often get trapped in the valley, and it would take a long time until it either spent its energy or dropped enough moisture that the clouds could rise high enough to get over Mount Mondanock. The light shows were spectacular, and the thunder just echoed everywhere and shook the house. I love nothing more than to fall asleep to the sound of thunder and the sight of strobe-like lightning.

The only time I was ever scared in a thunder storm was the summer I spent living in a pop-up camper. I had graduated from nursing school and moved back home to Massachusetts. I had a job ready to start in June, but an apartment that wouldn't be ready until the end of August. So I bought a second-hand camper, hitched it to my pickup truck, packed all my furniture into a storage unit and hit the road with my cat and my Jack Russell terrier. The week of July 4 was a string of those miserably hot, humid days that make me want to die. There was no relief to be found, but as the dog and I tried to get comfortable enough to sleep one night, we heard the rumble of distant thunder, and I hoped that it meant the weather was going to break. It broke, all right. The thunder got louder as a breeze started to kick up, and it was like heaven blowing through the screens. I unzipped all the windows to make the most of it until the rain started. As soon as it started to rain, I had to zip back up to keep from getting soaked. The wind was blowing sheets of rain against the "windows" and the camper was shaking and creaking. The thunder was a constant pounding that vibrated everything. I could feel the static electricity from the lightning, and it was so frequent that it was like blue-tinted daylight. The dog was whimpering and burying her head under the sleeping bag, and the cat got into her litter box and wouldn't come out. When I heard the sound of trees falling nearby, I joined the dog under the sleeping bag and stayed there for what seemed like hours until the rain tapered off and the wind died down. I called my mother to tell her I was still alive, and she told me she had considered sending my dad to go get me, but that she figured I was safer inside my tin can than outside of it. The next morning, I woke up for work and went outside to find a pine tree had fallen across my picnic table and smashed it to bits. A few feet to the right, and it would have landed on me and the dog. That would have been bad. I said a prayer of thanks and headed off to work to tell everyone the story of my near-death experience. When I got back that evening, the tree (and the picnic table) had been cut into nice pieces of firewood and stacked neatly at the edge of my campsite. There was a brand-new picnic table right where the old one had been and a note held down with a rock was sitting on top of it. The note just said "WOW!" in big, bold letters. I built a little campfire for myself that evening to stave off the newly-chilly air and the dog and I ate toasted marshmallows until we were too tired to sit up anymore.

I fell asleep last night to the sound of thunder and the flashing of lightning, and the last thought through my sleepy mind was "WOW".

Why I Blog At Work

2007-07-06T09:27:00.000-04:00

Presently, there is a man in the ceiling of my office. He is making a lot of noise with his power tools. I cannot use my phone because I can't hear myself think. I cannot do any paperwork because the ladder that the man in the ceiling needs in order to get back out of the ceiling is blocking the doorway to the chart room. Oh, and also, the man in the ceiling just climbed down out of the ceiling to tell me that he needs to cut off the water to my office sink, and my bathroom. So, if I didn't Blog at work, I would have no choice but to go home. And that would be so sad.

Have a great weekend, Internet!

I Think I like My Drag Name Better...

2007-07-06T06:48:00.000-04:00

Your Hillbilly Name Is...

Big Bessie Duke

Hillbilly Name Generator

My Preshus

2007-07-05T22:24:00.000-04:00

Kidlet thoroughly enjoyed the parade yesterday. She clapped and waved and danced and exclaimed "Wow!" every time there was a loud noise (approximately every 5 seconds). She was fascinated by the trucks and the horses and the antique cars. She has recently become interested in the trucks ("big twuck!") that pass our house on a regular basis, and was very excited that there were so many trucks to be seen pulling the floats. I thought for sure she'd get overwhelmed or scared from being sensory overloaded, but she just had a great time.

She's such a cool little kid.

The Rocket's Red Glare and Shit...

2007-07-03T12:12:00.001-04:00

Happy Independence Day, Internet! I know I'm a day early, but I'm going to be busy all day tomorrow and won't have time to post this then.

July 4th is the annual Amy's Family BBQ Blowout. My parents look forward to this every year, and usually start well in advance making everything all nicey-nice. Last year they had the back yard sodded, and this year they had about 20 trees taken down and a kitchen built in the back yard. Said kitchen is housed in a shed that is 20 feet square and fully tricked-out, including a deck for Dad's massive grill. The insanity. It does not stop.

Before the BBQ festivities, we must first walk downtown to our customary spot in front of the Old Ship Church to watch the parade- a 2-hour minimum affair. Were it not for the fact that kidlet absolutely loved all the noise and excitement of the parade last year, I would skip this part altogether. Of course, this year, she'll probably scream her little lungs out in terror. As is her way. Nevertheless, she will be outfitted in her red, white and blue finery for the occasion. Many photos will be taken. With any luck, we'll be able to catch another gem like this one from last year.

(Note the lush, green, carpet of grass...)

Be happy, healthy and safe!

Call Me Un-American, Then!

2007-06-27T13:47:00.000-04:00

If you haven't seen/heard/read the latest kerfluffle kicked up by Rosie O'Donnell, click HERE. You can also read about it HERE. Go ahead, I'll wait.

I have some very mixed feelings about Rosie O'Donnell in general, but I feel the need to say something because this whole issue brings up several subjects that are close to my heart.

Firstly, it upsets me that people are so quick to call Rosie a bad mother. If she were heterosexual, I sincerely doubt that people would be so quick to judge her parenting skills. They might still take issue with the video/photo essay, but I don't think it would extend to questioning her fitness as a mother. Maybe I'm wrong about that, but I am obviously more attuned to this sort of thing than others might be. From what I have seen and read of Rosie's words and her actions, she loves her children fiercely. In my opinion, unconditional love is 99% of what is required to be a "good parent". The remaining 1% is an equal mix of patience, stubbornness, humor, flexibility and selflessness.

The video itself is breathtaking. It is a gorgeous photo essay about a little girl growing up in the world. Rosie has said that the video is about whatever the viewer decides it's about. This is what I've decided.

I think people are so disturbed by the image of a little girl dressed as a soldier because it's a little too "real". It's the undeniable truth distilled into one image. American children, 3000 and counting, have died in Iraq. Every time I see a photo of yet another dead soldier on the evening news the first thought through my head is "that young, beautiful, brave (wo)man was someone's baby once". The grief that child's mother is suffering would be unendurable to me. Vivienne's photo represents each one of those children, and it's an overwhelming reality to face. If, indeed, the video was intended as an anti-war statement, it hit the mark in a powerful, undeniable way.

Whether the photos were spontaneous or staged is beside the point. I don't know, and I don't really care. What I do know is that it provoked a visceral reaction in me, and it seems that many, many people have had the same experience. The meaning we have all attached to it is colored by our individual experiences and feelings.

The United States is at war at home just as much as it is at war in the Middle East. The media would have us believe that the 2 sides are black and white. You're either Toby Keith or a dirty Hippie. The truth, as it does with all subjects worth arguing about, lies somewhere in between.

Rosie O'Donnell herself is a controvercial figure because she doesn't always know when to shut up. She has engaged in several public battles that have left her looking defensive, easily angered, and just slightly crazy. I wonder, though: if she were not lesbian, not an adoptive mom, not fat, loud, or opinionated, or not a woman, would anyone bother to care what she has to say or what photos of her child she chose to share on her website? I try to consider these questions before I pass judgement.

For my part, I tap into the part of my DNA that connects me to the Revolutionaries who raised a ruckus with the Boston Tea Party. True Patriots are not always popular, and often think in opposition to conventional wisdom and popular political culture. I consider myself a Partiot because I am outraged by the abuse of power and outright lies that led to the US going to war in Iraq. I am disgusted by those who say that people who are against the war are against America. I am against a president who will go down in history as a war criminal, and I am against the creation of more grieving mothers weeping over the flag-draped caskets of their dead babies.

Any Minute Now, She's Going to Start Calling Pepsi "Tonic"

2007-06-26T14:56:00.000-04:00

Despite having grown up in this part of Massachusetts, LT and I pronounce our R's and generally speak with little or no discernable accent. Apparently, my child has learned to talk by watching Good Will Hunting and hanging out at the Baah with all her friends.

Her cute little toddler accent has been replaced by what I have affectionately come to refer to as a "Dahleen from Southie" accent.

"Woguwt" (yogurt) is now Yogit
"Barney" is now Bahney
We ride in the Caah and wata the Gaahden
Yesterday, she went to the Paahk, and when she came back Miss Kim (one of her teachers) changed everyone's diapiz.

Next thing we know, she'll be kicking back in the yaahd drinking a beeah, eating a sub and smoking a Maahlbro.

Serenity NOW!

2007-06-25T13:25:00.000-04:00

LT called me at 4:00 on Friday to tell me that she was stuck in DPH Survey Hell (a special kind of hell reserved for nursing home managers and staff) and could I please pick up the kidlet from daycare. I was planning on leaving work early anyway, so off I went.

I pulled into the daycare parking lot just as the wind started whipping up and the sky was dark. I ran inside to scoop up kidlet and get her in the car before the deluge began. When I got to her classroom, she was sitting with her classmates watching The Lion King but she saw me right away. She came over to me, raised her arms and wiggled her fingers (kidlet-speak for "pick me up right now before I crumple to a pathetic heap on the floor!". I picked her up, she melted into my shoulder, and began to whimper. Her teachers both looked aghast and hurried to tell me that she had been fine all day. I shrugged, muttered something about teething (does anyone need to get all four canine teeth coming in at the same time?) and hurried out to the car. I got kidlet detached from me (she's like Velcro) and strapped into her seat seconds before giant raindrops began splatting onto the windshield.

We got home, and the whimpering intensified to a whine that was only placated by Barney for 20 minutes. Not only that, but she spent all 20 minutes lying in the same spot, without moving, on the couch. I went in the living room to make sure she wasn't dead and sat next to her on the couch. She sat up, said, "I have Mama?" and crawled into my lap. I wrapped her in her favorite blanket and she promptly fell asleep. She slept in my arms for a whole hour, until LT came home.

Thus ended the sweetness.

Saturday was an endless bout of whining. She dragged her blanket around like Linus, and demanded to be attached to LT at all times. She wanted nothing to do with me until Sunday when LT went to work and I was the only Mama there to tend to her every need and whim. There were many needs. And whims. There was much whining, and much uncharacteristic demanding. And throwing of objects (full sippy cups being her projectile of choice). The little monster gave me just the briefest glimpse of what the parent of every other almost-2-year-old on the planet deals with. I didn't like it. By the time LT got home I was twitching. When my Mom called at 8:00 to tell me she was back from Bermuda, and could she please steal kidlet for a day this week I had to force myself to not scream "Now! Take her now and I'll pay you to keep her!"

By the time kidlet settled down and fell asleep at 10:00, I was completely exhausted, and I slept like the dead until this morning, when I awoke at 6:10 to a little voice whining "I have Mama!" Thank goodness for daycare, I thought. When I saw her last, kidlet was sitting at the table in her classroom, munching on toast as if it were the most delicious thing she had ever tasted. There was no sign of the whining, demanding, sippy cup throwing beast that I had dealt with all weekend.

I took a deep breath, and left for work.

Reality Check

2007-06-21T10:39:00.000-04:00

Kidlet will be 2 years old in August. Rereading that sentence gave me a little bit of a shock. She was just born yesterday, how can she be almost 2 already? But also, she's been here forever, so how could she only be 2 years old? Such is the dichotomy of parenthood...

My baby has become a child. She is a real person who is able to think and reason and solve problems of ever-expanding complexity. She is developing a personality that is so very much a mixture of mine and LT's that it is difficult for people to tell whose genes she came from. She is stubborn and independent and strikingly verbal. She speaks in full sentences, even though she sometimes mixes up the order of the words. She sings several songs from start to finish and can recite Good Night Moon completely from memory. She wants to do everything herself ("Mama, I do!") whether she is physically capable or not. She dances whenever she hears music, and she goes ballistic when she sees Barney.

Her hair has finally started to grow in and is starting to look a little like she has a combover sometimes. I can't bring myself to cut it because her little baby curls are so sweet. I love to rub her fuzzy little head and bury my face in her freshly shampooed hair. Kidlet was a late walker, but she has more than made up for lost time. She runs around as fast as her chubby little legs will take her, and laughs gleefully as she careens into my arms ("Mama, I running!"). She is shaped exactly like LT- broad shoulders, small waist, narrow hips, round bum and short legs. She is constantly in motion- a little power plant of kinetic energy, even when she's asleep.

This little person amazes me. She baffles, infuriates, and impresses me on a daily basis. When I think of the things I love most in life the top ten are centered around her- the way she reaches her hands up when she wants me to pick her up, the spontaneous hugs and kisses on both cheeks, the way she screams "Mama!" when I walk into a room, the feeling of her snuggled up against me when she is tired, the sight of her sleeping face, and the sound of her laugh. I don't remember my life before her, and I can't imagine life without her.

How did I get so lucky?

Click to enlarge the photo.
(Note the Fred Flintstone feet! Is there really any question that LT made this kidlet?)

Friday Five

2007-06-15T08:02:00.000-04:00

This week's headlines:

1. Toddler Learns to Poop on the Potty Every Night Before She Goes to Bed! Proud Mothers Feel Very Smug!

2. High Pollen Count Continues! Amy's Sinuses Begging For Mercy!

3. Lesbian Couple Celebrates Their Second Wedding Anniversary this Sunday!

4. Local Woman: "The Muppet Show, Season 1 on DVD is the Best Thing to Ever Happen to Me!" And Also: "I Can't Wait for Season 2!"

5. Gay Marriage Remains Legal in Massachusetts!

Have a GREAT weekend!

Also, the Cat Peed on the Dog's Bed

2007-06-12T12:36:00.000-04:00

(YAY!! Sidebar is back!)

Kidlet is teething. Or, possibly, possessed by Satan. Maybe both. I don't know.

What I do know, however, is that it is extremely difficult to sleep with a screeching toddler in the house. I'm thinking tonight we'll pitch her a tent in the back yard, close the windows and turn on the A/C. Kidlet is in the process of cutting no less than four teeth at the moment. One canine finally broke through yesterday, but the other three canines are poised just under the skin, teasing us and transforming my sweet, cuddly, funny, adorable baby into a screaming, drooling, snotting monster.

Also, the latest addition to her vocabulary: "Stop It!". Also, its cousins "Stop it Mama!", and "Mama, enough!". It was cute at first. Now, not so much. Particularly not so cute at 2:30am as I am trying to get my teething/possessed child to take some Motrin and Just. Please. Stop. With the screaming.

People, I am tired. Partly because of screaming Satan-baby, and partly because of what seems to be allergies (what's with this alien pollen? I've never had seasonal allergies before this year!). My nose is stuffed up and I can't breathe, so I snore louder than usual, which leads LT to nudge me every 3 minutes and because of the congestion, I can't use my CPAP, and wah, wah, wah! I want a blankie so I can hide under my desk and take a nap. But I'd settle for some Tylenol and Sudafed. And maybe a priest to come exorcise my baby.

Friday Five

2007-06-08T15:36:00.000-04:00

In an attempt to inspire myself to write something (anything!) at least once a week, I now introduce you to the Fiday Five. Five things I've done, seen, heard, read, thought about, or accomplished this week.

1. Jury duty + 128 North + 8am = my personal hell.
Being dismissed at 11am just added insult to injury.

2. Dropped a chair on my left big toe yesterday while running/flailing my way across the lunchroom at work trying to get to someone who was having a seizure before she fell out of her chair and hurt herself. Oh! The irony! It HURTS! (and is swollen and a lovely shade of purple).

3. Boston Pride parade tomorrow. LT, kidlet, and myself are marching with a group from our church. Be sure to wave!

4. Have recently discovered the joy of making beaded jewelry. Can not stop. May need to open a store. Art glass earrings, anyone?

5. Reading Bee Season by Myla Goldberg. Something about it rings very true to me, and I'm having a hard time putting it down.

Have a GREAT weekend, peeps!

Weekend Update: The Redemption Center, A Near-Death Experience, and Mr. Potato Head. Also! With Bonus Cake!

2007-06-04T13:00:00.000-04:00

It has been a low-key few weeks around here. Kidlet spent Friday night with her grandfolks, so LT and I had the house to ourselves Friday night and most of the day Saturday. We went out for dinner Fri. night, then came home and fell into bed completely exhausted. LT had a particularly grueling and long week, and I was in my usual state of "could fall asleep at any time". Saturday was hot and humid. LT and I both woke up cranky at 7:30 and proceeded to snark at each other for a few hours until we were able to call a truce and leave the house to go do the 47 errands we had planned for the day.

The first stop was the redemption center, where we exchanged an SUV-full of returnables for $76.15. There is still more in the trunk of the Jetta. When I asked LT why we had 12 trash bags full of returnables, she looked a little embarassed and admitted that she had been hoarding them since September when the redemption center in our neighborhood had closed. She had been nervous about going to the new center in the next town over because she was scared of going by herself. LT likes rules, and she will follow them obsessively if she knows what they are. She didn't know the rules at the new place (each center has a different way of doing things and a different list of items that they'll accept), so she was afraid to go by herself lest she do something wrong. That's my girl: brave in the face of large, psychotic people, able to calm down the most delerious/demented old person, rational and articulate at all times, scared poopless by the toothless lady at the redemption center.

After a delicious breakfast at the neighborhood greasy spoon, we headed to the nursery. We bought all the vegetable plants and a flat of annuals to plant by the mailbox and in the window boxes. Then off to Wal Mart, where we bought a Mr. Potato head for our friend's daughter's second birthday, more flowers, and assorted other stuff we didn't know we needed until we saw it in the store. On the way out, we were nearly mown down by an unstable-looking fat lady on one of those motorized scooters. We narrowly averted injury by swerving our heavy cart with the messed-up wheel (nearly tipping it over in the process), only to have the lady scream "Bitches!" over her shoulder as she drove away into the store, careening along the sidewalk like a drunk monkey. That was, by far, the highlight of the day.

Sunday was cold(ish) and rainy. We drove to South Attleboro (i.e. the ends of the Earth) to deliver Mr. Potato Head and eat birthday cake. Kidlet was initially freaked out by the crowd of people she didn't know, but quickly gained her composure and discovered that batting a balloon around the room can be great fun. Also, there was cake.

That pretty-much brings us to now. A post to come will detail all the work that LT did while I was napping and the resulting gorgeousness of the yard. Right now, however, I must go home and apply muscle rub to my wife's sore parts. Toodles!

Fun With StatCounter!

2007-05-29T08:58:00.000-04:00

This site gets a little traffic. That is to say, a couple dozen people stop by on a daily basis, read my nonsense, and then go on their merry way. Hi! Some folks come here on purpose, some are directed here after they read a comment I've left on someone else's site, and some find me via Google. It's these people who provide me with the most enjoyment, and to all of you, I'd like to say hello! Welcome! And also, WTF!? Some of it is perfectly understandable. You're looking for porn. I respect that. The word lesbian is, after all, in the title of the website. You can't run a search that includes the word lesbian and not come up with less that 10,000 porn sites, right? Heterosexual men are obsessed with hot girl-on-girl action. Personally, my idea of hot girl-on-girl action involves at least one 250 pound bulldyke, but you'll never find that on a "lesbian" porn site.

As for the rest of you, all I can say is "Huh? What exactly are you people looking for?" There are some very interesting, funny, and highly perplexing keyword searches that lead to this here little site. I'll refrain from posting the actual search paths, because I don't want to offend anyone directly, but I will say this: some of you people are SICK!

And I love you all!

Sleeping Beauty

2007-05-27T13:07:00.000-04:00

I'm writing this post as the kidlet is asleep in her crib behind me. She's sprawled out on her belly with her face turned toward me, her head resting on her arm, and her little mouth is partway open. She sleeps in the same position I do. She is surrounded by her books, several bears, and Elmo. Always Elmo. She has three blankets in there with her, but only because I took the other four out to wash them the other day and couldn't bear to put them back while it was so hot upstairs. She doesn't sleep under her blankets, she just bunches them up around herself and snuggles into them. No matter how cool her room is, she always wakes up hot and sticky, her hair soaked with sweat. She is a little power plant manufacturing heat energy. We could probably power the whole house if we could figure out how to harness it.

This nap is impromptu. I put her in her crib with a sippy cup and a stack of books so I could take a shower. LT is working an extra shift today, so it's just me and kidlet. I had planned to go out after I got cleaned up and dressed. We were going to buy the plants for the vegetable garden, and stop by the craft store to pick up a few odds and ends. Nothing that can't wait a few hours. Or forever. Because that's about how long I could sit here and stare at my Sleeping Beauty.

Like A Ham Sammich...

2007-05-19T17:32:00.000-04:00

She cracks herself up, too.

Apropos of Nothing

2007-05-17T09:08:00.000-04:00

I am sick. I've spent the past few days trying to convince myself that it's allergies. It's not. My voice has been reduced to a raspy squeak, I cough so hard I nearly vomit, and at least one nostril is blocked at all times. Oh, and my throat feels like I've been swallowing razor blades. NOT allergies. So, here I sit, with a NyQuil hangover, trying to figure out how to make it through the day. I'm hoping I can leave after my noon med. pass. One of the benefits of working three miles from home is that I can be here in less than 5 minutes if necessary. I can't take a day off without booking an agency nurse to cover, so full sick days are out of the question.

LT and I are in the midst of a big, stupid fight over nothing at all. Feelings were hurt, words were misunderstood, actions were misinterpreted, and we both think it's all the other's fault. I hate feeling like this.

I am wondering if I should find a new job. This week has left me feeling defensive, unsure of my skills, questioning my judgement, and wondering if maybe I'm not cut out for this. Although my job title includes the word "nurse" there is very little actual nursing involved. My background is in critical care, so I have a hard time taking the array of bumps, bruises, and abrasions that I deal with every day seriously. I've made 2 decisions in recent days that have come back to bite me in the ass. Ultimately, I wouldn't have done anything differently in either case, but it seems that in the future I will have to completely over-react in order to satisfy anyone but myself that my decisions are appropriate.

Fat Doctor took down her blog yesterday, and I feel a little like I've lost a friend.

I have some adorable photos of the kidlet to share, but I can't get them to show up the way I want them to.

I want some ice cream. I have a coworker who would do a Dairy Queen run for me later this afternoon, but he's out today because his father is dying. I feel very sad for my coworker. He's a sweet gay boy, and we've bonded a little over the time we've worked together. The fact that he brings me ice cream scores him major points, but even if he didn't I would still like him. He's a genuinely kind and likable person. I know he has been expecting his father to die for several months now, but I also know that he will be devastated when it actually happens.

I finished a course of Provera Sunday evening, and am anxiously awaiting my period. There is no sign of it.

I really need to do some laundry this evening.

Kidlet is spending tomorrow night with LT's parents. They're taking her to a baby shower on Saturday. One of their lesbian friends is pregnant, so they're calling kidlet the "coming attraction".

2 children were killed in a house fire in the next town over from mine today. This makes me terribly sad. I heard the sirens as I was dropping kidlet off at daycare, and I remember thinking "someone's having a bad morning".

Jerry Falwell is dead. Is it wrong to be happy about that? I think people that use the name of God and of Christianity to justify their hatred have a special place in Hell set aside for them.

I could really use some ice cream.

Bye Bye Binky!

2007-05-15T14:57:00.000-04:00

One of the biggest challenges LT and I have had with the kidlet is getting her to give up her binky. We worked on it until she was able to go without it all day, and only gave it to her when she went into her crib, and even then only once she asked for it (which she always did). The last time we tried to get rid of it altogether, she was 14 months old. It was a Saturday, and we had left her one remaining binky at my Mom's house, so we really had no choice. LT and I put kidlet to bed, and then pulled out the couch downstairs so that we could better ignore the screaming and maybe get some sleep. Six hours (SIX HOURS!) of continuous screaming later, I drove to the 24 hour Walgreens and bought a new binky. She has had that same one ever since.

When kidlet started daycare last October, she was still using the binky at naptime at home. We sent one to daycare with her with instructions to only use it in an "emergency", and a week later, the teacher told us she had just thrown it out. Kidlet never asked for it, and always went right to sleep without it. At home, however, she refused to either nap or sleep at night without it. The intensity and duration of the screaming was really quite remarkable.

Until Sunday night. LT brought kidlet up to bed, put her in the crib, and kidlet fell asleep almost immediately. She never asked for the binky, never woke up looking for it, and slept soundly through the night. Same thing last night, although she did whine halfheartedly for an hour or so before she lapsed into her usual coma. She woke up this morning, pointed to the spot on the shelf where the binky always went, and said "Binky all gone?". I said yes, she said "yogurt?" I said, "yup, let's go have breakfast", and off we went.

Bye bye binky!

Mother's Day Extravaganza of Yumminess and Excess Desserts

2007-05-14T12:33:00.000-04:00

Another Mother's Day, another Sunday spent with some of my favorite people on the planet: my folks, my in-laws, LT and the kidlet. LT and I introduced our parents to each other on Mother's Day 2004. Since then, the Extravaganza of Yumminess and Excess Desserts has become our annual tradition. My folks and LT's folks come to our house for dinner (which I usually start planning in March and begin cooking several days in advance), we eat, drink non-alcoholic, artificially-sweetened beverages, and then eat some more. In the past, the day has also included a "what's LT been up to in the garden" tour, but this year she's off to a slow start, yard-wise, so we just played outside with the kidlet. The menu this year was a lot less fancy and labor-intensive than usual, but still mightily delicious. The highlights: carmelized onion dip, sundried tomato dip/spread, seafood chowder, salad, bread, Suzy-Q cupcakes, and fruit. (leave me a comment if you'd like a recipe for anything) Since my Pops has been doing such a great job with his new diet and exercise routine, and one of LT's Mums doesn't eat anything with sugar in it, I only did one dessert this year.

This is among one of my favorite events of the year. I love to see my parents and my in-laws enjoying each others' company, and I am so very grateful that they all genuinely love each other. We truly have become a big family over the years that LT and I have been together, and that has made everything in our lives so much better.

Kidlet benefits most from this situation, of course. She gets to spend time with all her grandfolks at once, which is something that LT and I never had. Kidlet has known and been able to clearly say the names of all her grandparents since she was 11 months old. LT and I are still collectively "Mama", but all her grandparents have their own distinctive names. She's also been able to string together "Uncle" and my brother's name for several months now, despite only getting to see him once a month or so. When we mention Uncle T, kidlet automatically says "Astro?", because my brother and his dog are very much a unit. She's a smart one, that kidlet.

So, to all of you Moms and Grandmoms, a belated, but very happy Mother's Day. I hope you are all as blessed with a loving family as I am.

CRASHSPLAT! Toddler Rite of Passage #462: Check!

2007-05-09T10:43:00.000-04:00

Amy=Stoopid!
I left a comment on another blog yesterday regarding the reaction of LT and I to the kidlet's many slips, falls, injuries and insults. I should have known that god was watching and would find a way to let me know that was a bad idea.

LT, kidlet and I were home together for approximately 35 seconds yesterday when kidlet ran into the next room to get a ball so we could all go outside to play. Seconds after she rounded the corner out of our sight, we heard the most tremendous crash/splat. Then that awful moment of silence. Then the screaming. In my usual state of nonchalance, I barely glanced up from the mail I was sorting, and was about to say something like "Did kidlet go boom again?" when LT (who was closer to the kidlet) said "Oh shit, Mama, lots of blood".

We practically knocked each other over running the 5 feet to where kidlet was laying on her side on the floor with a sizeable puddle of blood collecting on the hardwood. She was screaming her loudest "ohmygodI'mdyingmommypleaseHELP!" scream, so we knew she was basically okay. I scooped her up, ruining a new t-shirt in the process, and sat her atop the kitchen counter so I could assess the carnage. Both nostrils bleeding, blood in her mouth. It must have been a magnificent face plant. I'm sorry I missed it.

Fast forward 10 minutes. Kidlet is holding an ice pack to her nose with one hand and managing a sippy cup with the other. The phone rang. It was our friend Ellie Mae. Kidlet demanded to speak to her right this instant, so LT gave her the phone. Kidlet put the phone to her ear and announced "Hi Ellie! I boom!", handed the phone back to LT, and got busy with the sippy cup.

I love this kid.

Kidlet's Favorite Song

2007-05-07T14:27:00.000-04:00

Kidlet usually wakes up when LT does (at 5:30) and hangs out in her crib until I go get her up (usually around 6:45). She amuses herself by chattering to herself, flipping through her books, or singing. As her vocabulary has grown, she's been singing more. I love waking up to her little voice. She knows several songs, and usually sings little snippets of "The Wheels on the Bus", "Itsy Bitsy Spider", "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star", or the ABC's. But her favorite song, which she sings more and more of every day, is the Bumble Bee Song (or, as she calls it: "BUMBLE!"). This one cracks me up, and has hand motions that go along with it. When Kidlet is feeling less camera-shy, I'll try to post a video of this. But for now... sing it with me!

Bzzzzzzzz [clap hands] Got one!
I'm bringing home a baby bumble bee
Won't my mommy be so proud of me
I'm bringing home a baby bumble bee...

Ouch! He got me!
I'm squishing up a baby bumble bee
Won't my mommy be so proud of me
I'm squishing up a baby bumble bee...

Eeeeew! He's all over me!
I'll never catch another bumble bee
Won't my mommy be so proud of me
I'll never catch another bumble bee...

Bzzzzzz [clap hands] Got one!

And it goes around and around.

You'll just have to trust me. It's soooo cute!
And catchy. Now it's stuck in my head.

Weekend Recap: The Horror!

2007-05-07T09:00:00.000-04:00

I usually consider it a successful weekend when I manage to go one of the 2 days without showering. Not having plans or somewhere to be leaves nice, long stretches of time for important activities like napping and eating ice cream and working on the craft project o' the moment (currently: a crocheted baby blanket and preshus little matching sweater).

Our friends Sue and Babs were coming for dinner Saturday evening, so LT and I spent Friday evening and most of Saturday morning frantically scrubbing our house from top to bottom. This is what happens when we have company. We don't clean the non-kitchen and non-bathroom parts of our house on a regular basis, so when it's time to have actual people in our living room, we freak. The cat-hair tubbleweeds get vacuumed up, the dining room table is located under the rubble, the dog hair is vacuumed off the couch, and weeks worth of junk mail is swept from the kitchen counters. Sometimes we dust.

Then the cooking begins. (Grocery shopping, cooking, and all things kitchen-related are my "area". LT does a mean load of laundry and always folds my T-shirts so they don't wrinkle. She also deals with all things yard-related. It's a good system). This particular weekend, I had decided that I wasn't going to spend all day in the kitchen, because I need to conserve my energy for next weekend's Mothers' Day Dinner Extravaganza of Yumminess and Excess Desserts. I decided, sensibly, on teriyaki-marinated flank steak, corn on the cob, roasted asparagus, mashed potatoes and yummy sourdough bread. Simple! Quick! Everyone likes! Well. Then the phone rang. It was Sue, calling to confirm a time for them to show up. We decided on 5:00. Plenty of time for wine, homemade onion dip, and conversation before I casually ran out to the grill to quickly cook the steak. No problem. Then Sue casually tells me that she's just been diagnosed with diabetes. So she's not eating bread, potatoes, or sugar. Mmmkay. Well, there's still the steak, asparagus and corn. I had completely forgotten about dessert anyway. Okay, well, no one ever leaves my house hungry, so no problem.

Fast forward to 5:00. Sue and Babs arrive.
LT: "Hi! Welcome! Nice to see you guys!"
Sue & Babs: "Hi!" (they are holding a cooler)
Me: "....."
LT: (spots cooler) "What's this?"
Sue: "Well, I'm not eating carbs, and Babs isn't eating red meat, butter, dairy or carbs, so we brought our dinner"
LT: "....."
Sue: "It's chicken. And green beans"
LT: (looks at me, horrified) "Mmmm... okay"
Me: "Wine! Who wants wine!?"
Sue: "Oh. We're also not drinking alcohol".
LT & Me, simultaneously: (freaking out!) "Okay. Um..."
Babs: (hands me a bottle of Pelligrino) "We'll have this"
Me: "Okay. Have a seat in the [newly vacuumed. Oh my god I can't believe this is happening] living room".
Sue & Babs: (go into the next room)
Me: (trying to be a gracious host. Pour drinks. Wine for me! Yummy!)
(Bring drinks into the living room).
Babs: "Do you have any lime? I like lime in my water".
Me: (not screaming) "I dunno. Let me check" (runs from room. Locates and slices elderly looking lime. All 10 fingers still attached, despite trembling and thick, tough lime skin. Yay!)
Babs: "Excellent. Thanks so much".
LT: (sets out onion dip and chips on the coffee table)
Sue & Babs: (recoil in horror) "Oh no! No. Thank you, but no. Don't even bring it near me".
Me: (need more wine)

Mercifully, the grandfolks arrived shortly thereafter to drop off the kidlet, and we were all distracted by her adorableness for a while. I went outside to put the steaks on the grill. Sue called out from the living room "The chicken is all set, just put it on the grill with the steak". I am (again) horrified, but set to work cooking 2 COMPLETELY DIFFERENT MEALS. As I am taking the green beans out of the microwave, I manage to DROP THEM ALL ON THE KITCHEN FLOOR! I begin to hyperventilate, then begin to giggle. LT comes into the kitchen to help, sees me frantically scooping green beans off the floor, and also begins to laugh hysterically. Green beans are rinsed, dinners are served. Much wine is consumed.

I spend Sunday in bed, sleeping off the wine and the horror.

THE END

Toilet Training: A Play in Several Acts (Act II)

2007-05-02T15:02:00.000-04:00

Kidlet: Mama! Poop!
Amy: [grumbles under her breath] Okay. Let's go!
Kidlet: [climbs stairs to the bathroom while Amy follows behind]
I do! [yelled angrily at Amy, who has the nerve to try to help kidlet get her pants unbuttoned]
Amy: Okay. Have a seat.
Kidlet: [sits on potty seat for approximately 0.125 seconds] Okay! All done!
Amy: No, no, no. You didn't do anything! Sit back down!
Kidlet: [sits back down for approximately 0.06125 seconds] Okay! All done! [runs out of the bathroom, pants around her ankles]
Amy: [shakes her head in defeat. Fights back tears] Okay. Come back and get your diaper.
[it is eerily quiet]
Amy: Kidlet? [walks into kidlet's bedroom]
Kidlet: [is in the process of taking a giant dump on her bedroom floor]

[fade to black...]

100 Answers

2007-04-30T09:55:00.000-04:00

...to questions that are often asked...

1. I was born in 1974.
2. LT and I got married (legally!) twice, on the same day in 2005 and 2006.
3. The first time was so I could be listed as "Parent #2" on our baby's birth certificate.
4. The second was because we had already set a date and put down thousands of dollars in deposits before we found out about the loophole in MA law that would allow #3.
5. We honeymooned in Kauai.
6. I love LT and the kidlet more than I ever thought I was capable of.
7. I graduated from nursing school in 2002. Before I was a nurse, I was a social worker.
8. LT is also a nurse.
9. We met through Planet Out on February 23, 2003.
10. Our daughter was conceived through artificial insemination in our bedroom on November 11, 2004.
11. We used frozen sperm from an anonymous donor and got pregnant the second time we tried.
12. I have one brother who is exactly 2 and a half years younger than me.
13. My parents are still together.
14. LT's parents are also lesbians. They are also both nurses.
15. My parents and LT's parents all love each other and are close friends. We all spend holidays together.
16. LT has one brother. He lives in California. He does not keep in contact with his family.
17. Both of LT's parents are recovering alcoholics. They have both been sober for 23 years. They still go to AA meetings at least once a week.
18. LT, kidlet and I go to church every other Sunday. Our minister married us the second time around. We are one of 6 lesbian families in our congregation.
19. My favorite colors are in the bottom of the rainbow- green, blue and purple.
20. I am a sugar addict.
21. LT is one of 2 women I've had sex with.
22. My first relationship with a woman lasted 9 years.
23. There are 2 cars in my driveway: a Nissan Xterra and a VW Jetta.
24. LT and I own our home.
25. I have Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome.
26. I was diagnosed with chronic Atrial Fibrilation in 1998.
27. I take 7 pills a day. One of them is Prozac. It saved my life.
28. I am very crafty. I make soap, I crochet, and I sew.
29. I taught myself to do all those things.
30. I love to cook.
31. My brother is the locally famous chef of a locally famous Italian restaurant.
32. I love and collect bags like other women love and collect shoes.
33. I am more "girly" than LT, but her hair is much longer than mine.
34. Kidlet looks exactly like LT, but she got her blue eyes from the sperm donor.
35. LT and I both have green eyes and dark brown hair, but LT's hair turns red in the summer.
36. I am half Italian, and half British.
37. My maternal grandfather's family arrived on the Mayflower.
38. He was a WWII veteran who suffered from untreated PTSD.
39. I had just started to get to know and understand him in the years before he died.
40. He was the first person to figure out I was gay. He told me he loved me, and that he hoped I would find a nice girl to take care of me.
41. He would have loved LT as much as he loved me.
42. My mother and I had no real relationship when I was growing up.
43. I spent most of my time with my aunt Jane, who was my best friend.
44. She had diabetes and renal failure, and I used to keep her company while she had dialysis at a hospital in Boston.
45. She died on December 1, 1994 on the 10th floor of that same hospital in Boston. The last words she said to me were "I love you".
46. I miss her every day.
47. I have 2 tattoos, both in places I have to be naked for anyone to see.
48. LT has 4 tattoos, all in plain sight.
49. My favorite movie of all time is The Princess Bride. I am compelled to watch it every time it's on TV.
50. I secretly prayed that the kidlet would be a girl.
51. So did LT (we didn't tell each other that until she was 6 months old).
52. We didn't find out ahead of time, and I was convinced she was a boy.
53. My favorite season is Fall.
54. I'd rather be too cold than too warm.
55. I hate to wear shoes, and I'm not a big fan of socks, either.
56. I use mousse and hairspray every day.
57. I love to shop online.
58. I wish that LT and I had sex more often.
59. Like, more than once a month would be good.
60. I'm an exceptionally lazy person.
61. My favorite hobby is photography.
62. I almost always remember my dreams.
63. I am painfully shy and socially anxious.
64. I would much rather write than talk to people.
65. I wish I had better self-esteem.
66. I work on it every day.
67. LT is 6 years older than me, but everyone thinks I'm the older one.
68. I was physically attracted to LT the moment I saw her.
69. We were together for a year before we moved in together.
70. I like cleanliness and neatness, but I hate to clean.
71. My favorite food is ice cream.
72. I've had 5 jobs in the last 5 years.
73. The job I have now is the first one I've ever had that I like.
74. Being a nurse is not at all like I thought it would be.
75. Most days, I'd rather work at Starbucks.
76. Right now, my favorite TV show is "Deadliest Catch".
77. Who's in my CD changer right now: Five for Fighting, Jason Mraz, Pink, The Dixie Chicks, John Mayer, Green Day.
78. I wish I knew more about computers.
79. I wish I had more friends.
80. I have a hard time letting people get close to me.
81. I was tortured every day of high school by my classmates and one teacher.
82. The teacher was my English teacher, and he mocked my writing in front of the whole class.
83. He was later fired for having sex with one of my classmates.
84. When I went away to college, I planned to become an English teacher.
85. I changed my major to Social Science and my minor to Women's Studies.
86. My plan was to go to law school.
87. Nursing school was much cheaper.
88. I wish I had gone to law school.
89. I'm glad I'm almost done with this list.
90. Every room in my house is painted a different color.
91. It took 2 months to choose them all.
92. We renovated the kitchen when LT was 9 months pregnant.
93. It's still not finished.
94. I make more money than my boss.
95. She knows this and it drives her crazy. But she doesn't know that I know.
96. I am a chronic procrastinator.
97. I drink my coffee with cream and sugar. Extra cream.
98. I am mildly dyslexic- I tend to transpose numbers.
99. I am waiting for my doctor to call with biopsy results.
100. Nobody knows I keep this blog.

Photographic Evidence the Kidlet is Mine (Biology be Damned!)

2007-04-27T10:13:00.000-04:00

She loves her some chocolate!

Top Ten Reasons I Want to Punch Someone (Anyone!) in the Face

2007-04-26T10:29:00.000-04:00

1. Carbon monoxide alarm. Alarming. LOUDLY! At 4am.
2. Kidlet was picked up by my Mum this a.m. to spend 2 days with her and my Pops. Safe from carbon monoxide poisoning, but also out of hug range. I miss my squooshy!
3. I am at work, waiting for the people who better be finding and fixing the source of the carbon monoxide to call me and tell me all the gruesome details (i.e. how much is this going to cost?).
[update: someone who sounded an awful lot like the Lucky Charms guy called to tell me there is an ant nest in the base of the chimney, and the soil they've dug up has caused the furnace vent to get blocked and exhaust back into the house. Oh, and we need to line the chimney.]
4. Did I mention I'm at work? I hate work this week. Obviously, I'm so totally overwhelmed with stuff to do...
5. Daycare tuition is going up by $50 a week next month. That's an extra $200 a month on top of the $1000 a month we're already paying. For $1200 a month, we could buy the kidlet her own house. WTF!?
6. LTs job is making her (and thus me) an insane person. She's working 12 hour days doing 2 separate jobs (charge nurse and assistant DON), plus pushing a med. cart more often than not because the unit is horribly understaffed, and taking work home with her while the DON continues to "delegate" her entire job into LTs lap. Said DON also can't manage to show up for work before 10am because she's too busy sleeping off the previous night's bender... (I'm going to stop now, because I can feel my blood pressure rising).
7. Scummy teenagers calling my peeps "retards" and making fun of one of them while she was having a seizure at the park Tuesday. I'm sure said teenagers felt really cool after they made the retarded people cry. Nice.
8. The construction guy working in the warehouse that shares a wall with my office smoking cigars all day. The smell is killing me!
9. The receptionist who keeps paging people for calls and announcing who is calling and what they want to the entire building ("Amy, you have a call on line 1. It's Dr. Chang calling with the results of your Pap Smear"). Well, not exactly, but basically.
10. Tired. So very tired. To my bones tired. Achy joints, headache, nauseated, can't stop yawning tired.

A Post About Unidentified Flowers, Bunnies, and a Psychotic Dog

2007-04-23T12:17:00.000-04:00

Fellow residents of the Northeast, rejoice! For the crocuses have croaked, and the hyacinths have... uh... bloomed? Sorta. Well, they're thinking very seriously about it.

Also, there is a small child running around the back yard in a dress, clutching a sippy cup.

It turns out we planted daffodil bulbs last fall. This comes as a surprise to both myself and LT, although LT remains unconvinced that the things growing up next to the things that are definitely tulips are not also tulips. She is stubborn, that one.

Also, the hosta have poked their little noses through the mulch to say "hi". It's amazing what just a few days of sunlight and warmth have done to the yard.

Also! The bunnies! A family of little brown bunnies have found a new hobby: chasing each other through the brush on the other side of the fence, seemingly with the intention to torment the dog. They are so cute! And Daisy is so overcome with want ("want to eat bunnies!") that she's a lunatic every time we let her out in the yard. She just runs back and forth the length of the fence barking her houndy-beagle "Roo!" bark. It's quite annoying, and often causes the kidlet to spontaneously shout "Daisy, quiet!". And that's just comic gold, I tell ya!

Animal House

2007-04-19T07:09:00.000-04:00

As required by Lesbian Code of Conduct Article 5, Chapter 7 [each applicant wishing to use the title "lesbian" must, at all times, be in posession of at least one cat], LT and I have 2 cats. LT actually had 3 when we met, but 2 have since gone to the catnip patch in the sky, and we are down to her remaining cat, Zachary, and my kitty Bubba. I inherited Bubba as a kitten in 1994 when my then-room mate decided to move back home to Ireland 2 weeks after adopting a small, black, furry tornado. Initially, I was displeased, but Bubba and I have come to an understanding over the years that has allowed us to cohabitate peacefully. If I take care of her every need (food, fresh water, immaculate litter box, many soft places to sleep...) she won't claw my eyes out in the middle of the night.

Because we are good lesbians, LT and I were very good to our respective kitties. And then we got a dog. There is also something in the Lesbian Code of Conduct requiring the adoption of a dog as soon as possible after 2 lesbians decide to cohabitate. Said dog must preferably be a lab./golden retreiver type of dog, and is designed to act as the "child replacement". In our case, we very consciously decided to get a dog so we could see if we would be good parents. We figured that if we could keep a dog alive, groomed, trained (somewhat) and fed, we probably could handle a kid. Poor Daisy. She's a goofy shelter mutt. We fell in love with her sweet disposition and calm nature the moment we saw her. When I picked her up, she nuzzled my neck, and I fell in love. She was the center of our attention for 2 years. Then came the kid, and Daisy has not forgiven us yet. As the kidlet gets older, she shows more interest in the dog, and they will eventually be friends, especially if the kidlet continues to share her meals and let Daisy clean her face afterwards.

However, I digress (badly). The point (and I do have one) of this post is Zachary. LT woke me up at the cruel hour of 6am to announce to me that Zachary had used the bathroom rug as a litter box sometime during the night, and that he also seemed to have used Daisy's bed for a similar purpose. This is the second time in 2 months that this has happened. After the last trip to the vet., his urine culture was negative, but we went home minus $300 and plus some antibiotics anyway. So now, here we are again. Currently, Zachary is confined to an enormous dog crate in the kitchen, crying like he might die of sadness. He has a little litter box and a blankie and should be happy as a king in his wire-cage castle, but he's not. Normally, we would send him to his little apartment in the basement with the litter boxes and the food bowl and the comfy chair to sleep in (or, when he's really lucky, the dryer to sleep on top of). He would stay there until the antibiotics were done and it would be like a little vacation for him. Except that at the moment, the basement is flooded. Yeah. So, Zachary is imprisoned in the kitchen, crying pitifully.

The kidlet has just learned to say "Zachary" (up until last week, all kitties were "Bubba"). Every morning, before we leave for daycare, kidlet walks around the house and says goodbye to all the animals "Bye bye Bubba", "Bye Bye Daisy", and this morning, "Bye bye cry baby".

Toilet Training: A Play in Several Acts (Act I)

2007-04-18T10:36:00.000-04:00

Kidlet: Poop! Potty?
Amy: You need to poop?
Kidlet: [nods enthusiastically, walks to bottom of stairs] Potty!
Amy: [scoops up kidlet and carries her up to the bathroom] Okay. Ready to sit on the potty?
Kidlet: [shrieks] Nooooo! [begins to cry]
Amy: [confused] Do you have to poop?
Kidlet: [crying real tears] No!
Amy: Did you already poop?
Kidlet: [shaking head] No! [crying]
Amy: Can I look?
Kidlet: [turns her back to Amy and leans forward slightly for a diaper check]
Amy: [checks diaper, finds it empty] Do you want to sit on the potty?
Kidlet: No! [runs toward stairs]
Amy: [still confused] Okay, then [carries kidlet downstairs and deposits her on the couch]
Kidlet: Poop! Potty?

[Director's Note: Scene is repeated approximately 15 times for dramatic effect]

Puzzle Pieces

2007-04-17T15:49:00.000-04:00

People sometimes ask me what I like most about being a Mom. They ask because they know (or guess) that it wasn't easy from a biological standpoint, and that it was obviously planned and discussed well in advance. All this is true, of course. I am infertile, so my only hope of becoming a Mom rested in the hands of someone else. When LT and I met and decided to be a couple, one of the first serious conversations we had was about the children issue. LT had been through a lot with her ex, who had said she wanted children, but then changed her mind after the second unsuccessful IVF cycle. She was heartbroken at the thought that she would never be a Mom, and had decided when the relationship ended that she wouldn't get involved with someone who couldn't say honestly that she wanted to have at least one child. Lucky me! I had also left my previous relationship knowing that the next person I was going to get involved with would have to meet certain criteria that would make her suitable co-parent and life partner (for real, honest-to-goodness life) material. Just when I had given up hope, there she was! Financially secure, emotionally mature, beautiful, healthy, kind, responsible, patient, laid-back, and also looking to make a family.

LT and I talked at length about why we wanted to have children. I just knew deep in my heart that I would not feel like I had lived a complete life if it didn't include a child. It's funny to me now that I spent my twenties as a dyke feminist telling everyone that I didn't need to be a mother for my life to have meaning, all the while knowing that I didn't really feel that way. I talked the talk while quaking in my steel-toed Doc Martens that someone would see right through me. By the time I graduated from college I had ditched the boots for Birkenstocks and a slightly less militant type of feminism that allowed me to admit freely that I wanted to be a Mom. Ten years later, here I am.

Is my life complete? In many ways, yes. Would it still be complete without a child? Maybe. I'm so glad I don't have to find out, though. The thing I like most about being a Mom is that I feel like all the puzzle pieces of my life have been assembled. Living with a toddler as bright and busy as the kidlet is absolutely exhausting. I yearn for a few minutes of quiet, of alone-ness with or without LT. But then kidlet comes home from daycare in the afternoon, and no one in the world has ever been so happy to see me. Peace and quiet suddenly seem so boring...

How It All Started

2007-04-16T10:04:00.000-04:00

The idea for this Blog came to me about a month ago. I was sitting in my reproductive endocrinologist's office with LT (my wife) when the doctor leaned over his desk and said "Mind if I ask you a completely personal question?" I nodded. He dropped his voice and said "What's it like to be gay in the suburbs?" He quickly added. "I live in the city, where it's totally no big deal, and almost all of my gay patients live in J.P. or Brookline and it's just part of the landscape. But... what's it like 'out there'?" My first instinct was to laugh. It seemed like such a silly question. But once I thought about it, I understood why he was asking. I've taken for granted that LT and I have supportive families, that we are both "out" in our jobs, and that our church flies a rainbow flag over the front steps. When LT and I decided to get pregnant, we made an appointment with an OB-GYN whose office was closest to our home. She never batted an eye when presented with us, and only later admitted that we were her first gay couple, and she felt like she had been invited to join a "cool club". We gave birth at a Catholic hospital where all the nurses were fantastic and attentive and professional, and never even missed a beat when I was introduced as "the Papa". Maybe it's our matter-of-fact, laid back way of just being who we are, but it's never occurred to me that being gay in the suburbs might be difficult, or weird or problematic in any way. Ultimately, LT and I were able to convey this to the somewhat stunned doctor, who just nodded and said "Huh". LT and I have always had a rather nonchalant attitude about our relationship and our family. We don't anticipate a negative reaction, so we aren't defensive and that allows other people no real opportunity to react negatively to us or to our kidlet. Maybe someday this approach will fail, and we'll be knocked on our asses with shock. Hopefully not, but I can acknowledge that it's possible. I anticipate that the "problems" will come when kidlet is ready for school, and there are Other Parents to deal with. Maybe we'll have to rethink our approach by then, but I hope not.

So, although LT and I have been very fortunate to live a peaceful existence among all the other suburban moms, we are unfortunate in the sense that other lesbian families are a little harder to find out here in the 'burbs than they are in the city. As a result of our relative isolation, I really have no idea if my experience is the norm or some freakish alternate universe-type of occurrence. So, here I am. Hopefully, others will find this site and help end the mystery. Enquiring minds want to know!