Old Dog, New Tricks

I've always been of the subconcious mind set that the way we are, our habits, or general personalities, are what they are. If a man beats his girlfriend, he's not going to change his ways... that kind of thing. However, I keep finding myself recognizing changes to my own personal approach to everyday things.

I have a prime example this week. My M.O. has always been one of politeness and obligation. If someone knocks on your door and you're home, you answer the door. (I also have a hard time not answering the phone, even when the number looks like a telemarketer, much to my husband's annoyance.) Now that I'm working from my home office, I can see all the door knocker sales people, soul savers etc.. coming down the street before they even hit the porch. It's awkard. Especially if you can see them and they can see you as they walk past your window.

Yeah - I don't know when I turned into either a.) and arsehole or b.)totally uncaring of social protocol. But I have. These suckers have knocked on the door - and they can clearly see my daughter (home with a fever) lounging watching a movie and I didn't answer the door. I just didn't feel like it. I was busy doing work stuff and my hours to do such things are limited. So I didn't. Hah! I feel like I'm smoking during high school lunch at the Circle K (which I never ever did or wanted to - by the way Mom in case you're reading.) Or like I'm eating grapes in the grocery store produce section, before paying for them (well, I would NEVER do that - it's just wrong) but you get the gist.

And you know what? It's totally within my right not to answer my door! I don't know these people. I don't have time for their song and dance. We've got new windows and a roof and a guy who helps with the yard. I'm pretty sure I've already got my ticket booked on a handbasket to a hot place - so don't need that one either. I don't need anything from door knockers and I didn't answer the door!

But it feels GOOD and I don't care! Next I'm going to start vaccuming nude or something!

I Do NOT Speak MonosyllabicGruntus

If Italian is the language of lovers, small child MonosyllabicGruntus is the language of seriously frustrated, most likely harpy Mothers. Seriously. Is it just our family? Please tell me that I'm not alone in this.

While I am quite clear on the fact that my 5 y.o. and I do not have the same communication style, nothing puts me from everything is hunky dory to fire level red faster than the grunts.

Me (Happy Upbeat Voice): "Okay! Everyone find their shoes, it's time to go to school!" "Kate where are your socks?"

Kate: "hmphff" (then disappears - sobbing to be heard from the living room - then reappears still without socks.)

Me (trying to be positive): Hi - okay, socks? Please go get them.

Kate: "mmgh" Again with the running and sobbing.

WHAT IS THE MATTER!! Seriously - there is nothing that has happened between teeth brushing and putting on socks and shoes that I can tell would have been an affront to her person. Clearly she is upset. I don't know why and I'm sure as heck not going to ask.... if she's just going to grunt. Even if I did ask, it would just get a grunt. I can't take it!

I think next up is to find a Psych class for dealing with small children, because clearly whatever I learned in Psych 101 - 15 ahem.. or so years ago did not stick.

I'm all ears - let's hear it. Suggestions anyone??

The Pitfalls of the Home Office

So I'm officially working from the 'home' office. Not even a little. More like ALOT! So much that I didn't even unload the dishwasher this morning - and realized tonight when I went upstairs that I hadn't been up there all day. Cool!

However - as I discovered today during my first 'high pressure' crank it out day, there ARE some downfalls.

a.) The IT guy is my husband. Via IM. From his office. (He's smart, but he's not really an IT guy btw.) And while at an official real office job, you're super duper nice to the IT guy because you KNOW that you'll need his help somewhere down the line - not so much for IT husband.

As I wrote in all capitals FORK THIS PRINTER! Or something close to that - angrily in my IM message box, I did feel a little bad about it. But I was frustrated and stressed, and I know that it would take alot of $$ and time to divorce me... Oh and I think he might love me a little, however there was no love in our terse phone conversation which began with him saying "I am trying to HELP you"..

b.)Having a cat as an assistant. Yeah - no good. He does not know discretion. I.e. If I am in the middle of a phone call or feverishly inputting important things - good assistants would make themselves useful or scarce. They do NOT jump into the middle of your business and stick their butt in your face and get their fur stuck to your lip gloss. Repeatedly. Plus it's very hard to 10 key or make coffee with cat paws.

c.) Snacking.I knew this would be trouble before making the leap.. but jeesh! I was starving today and wisely have rid the house of pretty much anything good that I might like. Oh, but how could I have forgotten chocolate granola bars for the kids!! I might need to get a nanny cam or something to keep me honest!

d.) Finding toys, drawings, pens without lids etc.. all over the place. I constantly shriek when the kids are home "This is Mommy's Office! Not a place for toys and playing!" But the lure of the zen sand garden is just too much I guess. No worries, zen sand garden will be raked clean in short order I'm sure. Thank goodness the carpet is sand colored.

Now I have to go find the cleaning crew... oh wait.....

Happy New Year and All That Reflective Stuff

I've been falling down on the job of posting - but today is the first day of 2010 and after reading everyone's reflective posts on Facebook - I was inspired to jump on.

There's the age old resolutions thing. I try not to do those, as I'm really only gung ho for about 2 weeks and then you're just a disappointment to yourself. I'm all about trying to keep things positive.

Instead I'm taking my BFF's approach today - to try and fend off the mindless chips and salsa grazing that will take place while I watch football: wearing my too tight jeans as punishment and reminder. Nothing curbs the urge to eat chips like catching the reflection of my muffin top in a window. Or having to pull my jeans up OVER the belly overhang to comfortably sit on the couch. As I write this I'm watching my 70 year old neighbor make her 4th lap around the neighborhood. In the rain. And wind. Oh man...

You know how everyone has 2 or 3 'big ideas' that they'd do if they had the time, money or expertise? I'm thinking a Biggest Loser/Betty Ford Camp would be a big winner. I'd sign up right now.

But seriously - here's to a new year, full of unexpected delights and I'm sure a few heartaches thrown in (because really, how can you fully enjoy the good stuff without knowing how the bad stuff feels.) Do something unexpected this year friends!

Cheers! Kimberly

Random Bits

It's time again for random bits.

Hope everyone is actually able to ENJOY some of this Holiday season and not just feel all crazy go nuts!

December: I am like a kid and love to get Holiday and Christmas cards! It's like Christmas every day! Which then reminds me that I need to leave something for the Postal Worker - and then I wonder what? Do they want home made cookies? I think I would NOT like to find homemade cookies in the mailbox. Did the maker wash their hands? Is their house clean? I only know what her front door looks like..... Suggestions anyone? Does anyone else do this?

Segueing into other things that are nice - in December or just anytime. A friend who GIVES you the other half of the appetizer they were taking to a party - so that you could show up at your party with a handmade yummy dish, because you totally forgot about it until oh shoot, we're leaving in 30 minutes. Perfect gift from a friend! Anyone else have a unexpected warm and fuzzy?

OR that your fun and super great neighbor down the way was in a bind and felt comfortable enough to ask if you could hang on to her child for a bit one evening so she could go to a Holiday Party. It's flattering that a new friend you don't know all that well yet, trusts you with the life of their child! So I guess I'll have to pretend that I don't yell all the time tonight and forced housework will have to wait until tomorrow night...

Fuzzy's Cousin - Wuzzy

My kid is weird. I guess all kids are a little weird....and I'm not saying weird is bad, it can just be a little hard sometimes. And as I write this, I'm having a little flash back to a something I used to say as an adolescent - "I'm not weird, just different". Guess apple doesn't fall as far from the tree as I thought.

Here's the story. My daughter Kate and her best little kindergarten friend S - both ended up with coats this winter that have that little fake fur fringe on the hood. When I went to pick her up the other day, the fur thing was off, as was S's and they were playing with them. Apparently they had also named them. Fuzzy is Kate's and S's I'm not sure of, but it's either a cousin to Fuzzy, or Fuzzy's mother.

I don't know why this drives me nuts. More likely because it's just one more thing I have to keep track of i.e did it make it home from school? Is it in the car? Didn't I just make my fingers bleed trying to button and snap that damn thing back on to her coat 6 times last week?

And then there's that creepy way she pets it while riding in the car. It's the fringe to your jacket girl! It's not a pet!

So when I was at the fabric store last week (I pretend that I sew.. mostly I just make messes, break needles and curse alot at my machine)- I saw this great fuzzy fleece stuff. The kind that leaves lots of little fuzzy fleece hair peices when you cut it - that part of it is not great. But I got all ramped up with the idea to make a 'real' Fuzzy. Or as I am calling him 'Wuzzy' - you know, Fuzzy's other cousin. I got these animal eyes and a little nose... and it will be legit! And since you're not allowed to take toys to school - I will not have to suffer the embarrassment of my strange child petting a fake fur friend during recess or whatever. (I'm kidding - I'm not really embarrassed.. that much.)

AND side note - fuzzy fleece stuff - HIDES all crappy sewing stitches! Yes! This is my kind of fabric.

So here is Wuzzy curled under the tree - awaiting the morning when he'll meet his little girl.

Wait, did I say my child was weird?

Keen Eye for the Creepy Guy

So my BFF was a corrections officer before she took on the full time job of chief domestic engineer (side note, have new found respect for her crazy life..). So I'm not sure if it's her observations and work stories that have made me see all strange men who eye my children as child molesters...or if it's some sort of innate Mothering instinct. But it's there.

On Sunday I envisioned a beautiful memory filled afternoon of having lunch and going to a play at the Seattle Children's Theatre (was fabulous!!) with my girls. They wanted to wear their fancy poofy holiday dresses and I let them. We got out of the house and headed downtown to begin our adventure. Right off the bat, said beautiful afternoon took a turn as I should have expected it to. The restaurant I chose close to the theatre that has great food, is not high priced and has nice staff - well it's a pub. And it was Sunday. And how in the heck could I have forgotten that there is football on Sunday (hello, have you met my husband?). When a Mom and her two young daughters wearing ridiculous poofy fancy dresses step into a pub on a Sunday... you get some looks. And these weren't 'awww, so cute!' looks... more like 'what the?' looks... Did I mention I even paid to park in the lot across the street?

We stood for a few uncomfortable moments waiting for a table. And then we headed back to the car so we could get to the food court of the Seattle Center for some hot dogs. Oh our beautiful memory filled hot dog lunch. And this is where my creepy alert was on high. The Seattle Center for most parts of the year is geared for children. And homeless folks who want to get out of the cold. And I'm pretty sure it's a mecca for child molesters.

As we sat eating (or not eating in the case of MY children) our Frankenfurter lunch extraordinaire - I see a man dressed as a train conductor (there is a huge train inside this time of year..) pointedly staring at my girls. At first, I thought ahhh it's because of the matchy matchy dresses... and I look up again and he has not dropped his gaze. Does he want us to acknowledge his train conductor status? I'm good thanks.. and I look up again - STILL staring. Red alert, red alert - out comes the stare DOWN. The mama bear stare down. WTF dude? What are you looking at? Because you step one foot closer to me with your creepy staring and I'll shove this hot dog so far.....

So then we have some time before the play starts, so we sit down to watch the dance exhibition from a local school of dance. Girls are 6-16. For me - there is really no need for any man who is alone, without children or seemingly related to any children in the vicinity to a.) interact with strangers children or b.) sit front row of a young girls dance recital. Totally biased I'm sure, but my BFF would tell you not.

As I look around there are lots of scummy (and I mean this in the level of cleanliness) old guys watching this show. In the seats, from the stairs, loitering around. Ah man.. I'm stereotyping and I know it - but there's something for gut instinct which I have relied on and been successful with many a time before. Gut alarm is on high and I'm thinking it's time this poofy dress party train moves on.