Wednesday, November 28, 2012

Freaking out. Just a little

I will say that I'm typically laid back.  My BFF will laugh and my husband will guffaw.  So they can get their own blog if they want to say anything.  Maybe I'm laid back relative to the other crazies in my family.  Regardless, I'm laid back.  About some things. 

I'm not laid back when it comes to my kid.  He's just too awesome to mess up.  That and I thought I'd never have him so I'm kind of, well, not laid back.  Not exactly psycho.  Not exactly not-psycho.  You know, I'm perfect.

I'm going out of town tomorrow night with almost every other caretaker of my child.  Except my husband.  I realize that next to me, he is the best caretaker there is.  However, he is a man.  And if I'm being honest, I worry about the diaper getting changed and him being fed.  My husband is a great father.  Let's just say he isn't the most pereceptive of people.  That smell emanating from your child - yes, it should be changed and it was there well before I got home.  That constant pacing of the dog - yes, it typically means they want to go outside.  That odd sound coming from your bedside table - yes, your alarm is going off.  Wait, that is both of us.  That odd, annoying sound you hear - yes, I'm talking to you, you can answer now.

So imagine my worry when for 4 days all they will have is each other.  I fully expect to come home to a slightly stressed husband and a dirty child.  (They are called baths, dude)

But it will still be a wonderful homecoming.

Monday, November 26, 2012

On Thankfulness, Pity, and Misery

I have a hard time at this time of year being thankful.  In some ways I feel like being thankful for stuff (and proclaiming it to Facebook or Twitter) makes me a little like that person that only asks for prayer when they need something.  To which I am guilty.  I am guilty of most things.  But mostly I'm guilty of not being thankful. 

It's not that I don't have a lot to be thankful for.  I do.  Everyone does if they think about it hard enough.  We all have struggles.  We all have a childhood to overcome.  And maybe that gets to the root of my issue.  I've often told people that I'm not a good HR person because I have no pity.  That is true to some degree, but it isn't the whole picture. 

I have no pity for people who allow their prior circumstances to hold them back in the present day.  I have empathy when possible.  And I have sympathy when allowed.  But I have no pity.  People don't need pity.  Sometimes they need a smile.  Or a Thank you.  An I love you.  A "Good Job".  Sometimes a swift kick in the butt.  But not pity.  Pity allows you to wallow.  Pity allows you to stay in that place.  That place that is holding you back.  Pity doesn't give the strength to soldier on - it gives you the validation to, well, be pitiful. 

So this season I'm thankful that in many areas I was able to soldier on.  I'm thankful that no one took pity on me because we know misery loves company.  Sometimes misery is necessary.  Sometimes misery is healing.  But misery and pity should not be destinations.  I'm thankful I didn't choose that.  And I'm thankful for every person in my life that helped me realize that truth.

Thursday, November 15, 2012

Doctor visit

I went to the doctor today.  Much like the rest of the US my insurance is changing next year and I've met my out of pocket this year so I'm going to take full advantage of that and rack up even more medical costs.  Yes, I'm in HR and I know how horrible that sounds. 

Truthfully, I just went in for a routine physical.  Three needle sticks, one pee test, and one EKG later I emerged. 

The appointment was really going ok.  I had to get on the scale, which of course lied.  The nurse took my blood pressure and temp and all that.  All good.  My EKG (which was a first), was ok.  Or so they tell me.  I got my TB test, a Tetanus shot, a referral for a mammogram (so.  excited.)  and a referral to a good dermatologist because apparently these huge freckles on my face may not be so good afterall. 

The doctor was great as usual.  I like her.  I saw her for the numbness in my hands and she was great then too.  And then she told me I need to lose 20 lbs.  Bitch.

Monday, November 12, 2012

Happy, Not Pensive

I DO EXIST!  I was going to write a really long and sad penisve post today, but I don't want to.  I want to be happy.  And what makes me happy?  Besides Beam and Coke and sleeeping until 7 AM?  My little boy! 

He will be 2 next month which is completely mind blowing.  But he really is the cutest thing ever.  One post awhile back I put the ways I know he is my kid.  I'm going to do that again.  Some may be repeats though. 

1.  He is a little clumsy.  He was walking down the hall yesterday and ran into the door frame.  You know, that part that sticks out about 1 inch into the hallway.  Only one of my children could pull off that feat.

2.  He loves to be outside.  If he hears the doors open he comes running.

3.  He is double jointed in his thumbs.  So odd.  And he moves them the same way I do and everything.

4.  He wakes up early.  Now, let me say that early is relative.  Pre-children early was 7:30 or 8.  Now I would give almsot anything to sleep until that time.

5.  The whole curly hair thing.

6.  Those crazy blue eyes.  And those eyelashes!  Ladies - guard your hearts (and your daughters). 

7.  He loves to read.  Or be read to. 

8.  He could care less what he is wearing.  Seriously, I can dress him in anything. 

9.  He likes to surprise people.  From around a corner, with hand sanitzer, whatever. 

10.  He loves to laugh.  A loud, boisterous, can't be mistaken for anything except happiness laugh.  I'm not sure that one is me, but I love it.

11.  Oh, and he is independent as crap.  Drives me insane sometimes. 

12.  He. Has. No. Patience. 

So he wakes up every morning in one of three ways:
1.  Uh oh.  UH OH.  UHHHH OHHHHH.  UHHHHHHHH  OHHHHHHHH.  Over and over and over again.  Louder and louder. 
2.  Wow.  WOW.  WOOOOOWWW.  WWWWWOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWW.  Over and over and over again.  Louder and louder.
3.  Mama.  MAMA.  MMMMMAAAAAMMMMMAAA.  That is so cute he can say it however he wants. 

And here he is.  In the dog crate.  I just want to add his grandmother allowed this to happen...