phase one essentially complete

so did i tell you in the midst of all the chaos with putting the house on the market and el Jefe' moving a portion of our family North (specifically the portion being him), i had a work trip planned to San Diego that the whole family was going to enjoy. we enjoyed it, but it wasn't exactly "per plan". lately my motto is, "at least we have a plan." things rarely go as planned, but at least we have one, right?

so we drove to San Diego thursday. i had one more category of nominations to read for my company's awards program. el Jefe' ended up driving the entire way there because i finished reading and ranking nominations within the San Diego city limits. we checked into our hotel with no spare time for a shower, but i did iron a shirt. el Jefe' ended up going shopping with Punkin as all he had were holey jeans, t-shirts, and a couple of flannel shirts. never dull.

friday i was in meetings all day. el Jefe' and Punkin had lunch with Punkin's godfather, el Jefe's cousin, and her 4-year-old daughter who is buds with the Punkin. we had dinner together at my company function, where Punkin was the youngest participant by two decades, but he behaved like a champ! up at 5 am saturday morning to drive back, pick up the dogs from the vet/kennel, and get the U-Haul.

the 5 am saturday morning part worked per plan.

the U-Haul wasn't where it was supposed to be. el Jefe' eventually picked it up about two hours later than the plan. he loaded it early sunday morning.

the part about the dogs was fine until i have spent hours the past two mornings cleaning up doggie diarrhea out of the new cleaned carpets. Abby is not going to make it. she's not eating or drinking, i think she has a cut on her foot, and yet she spews stains out of her butt.

but nothing is as sad as this sight.

the price of progress

it’s been awhile.

i think i only have six remaining windows to clean and four rooms of baseboards. we had the carpet professionally cleaned on Monday and we still have incontinent dog stains. we have 325 square feet of new sod (and associated top soil) in our backyard. we have a relatively clean pool, four new cartridge filters, and an appointment for service (still no pressure) next Tuesday. we have furniture to move North, and a U-Haul reserved to move it North, and furniture to donate moved to the garage. the house goes on the market tomorrow.

we’re making progress.

Peanut is quite active. today’s check-up had me topping out at 163 lbs (more than when the Punkin was born … bummer) and 123/61. i have a three week hiatus from doctors appointments, and then i start back at two week intervals. it’s kind of a mini vacation, don’t ya think? in three weeks, my doctor wants me to register at the hospital. here we are, scrambling to get el Jefe’ organized and moved up North, and his response was “cool. then i can move back home.” but where is home?

it has not been smooth sailing by any means. i completely lost it on Saturday and was hysterically yelling and crying in the parking lot of Applebee’s (which seems to have a corporate policy against balloons which continues to break the Punkin’s heart, so much so that i believe Red Robin is now his favorite restaurant …). El Jefe’ offered to quit and cancel the move. this is the second time he has made such an offer. i’m not even tempted to take him up on it; it’s not what i want. i’m just worried, and stressed out, and exhausted, and there are so many things out of my control.

and we’re spending money like water.

fortunately, my doctor told me today the Peanut doesn’t know if i’m happy or sad, stressed or depressed.

thankfully this is one thing i am just doing to myself.

the best Valentine's Day ever

el Jefe’ and i were married to other spouses before, and have been through a divorce from those other spouses. i wouldn’t even wish my relatively easy divorce on an enemy.

he moved in with me after he got laid off but during the tail end of his divorce. we were madly in love, and best of friends, and committed to each other without any ceremony. once his divorce was final, he would occasionally ask me to marry him roughly quarterly. although i wanted to be recognized officially as a couple by more than our closest friends, i was afraid of repeating the pain i had felt at the end of my previous marriage. so, i made excuses and let the subject pass until the next quarter. and came up with another excuse when he popped the question the next quarter.

we bought a house together, two sets of paperwork and all. we combined our two storage units, three dogs, and all of our divorcewear to make a home together. and the Christmas after we moved into our home, he slipped a diamond engagement ring into the pocket of my brown corduroy overalls that were my Christmas gift. el Jefe’ literally got down on his knees and asked me to marry him and i said “yes”. (stipulation: "someday").

Valentine’s Day, following that Christmas, fell on a Saturday nine years ago. i spent the day at home cleaning or working on the house while el Jefe’ was slaving away at work on a top secret project with horrendous deadlines. we had plans (but not reservations) to go to Joe’s Crab Shack for dinner. mind you, Valentine’s Day was the anniversary of his previous marriage. i think this reminder weighed on both our minds every Valentine’s Day. i stewed and fretted most of the day. how could i ever compete with the memory of his failed marriage?

i called the County and got a recording that they are (were) open 24 hours, even on weekends (there went that excuse). i listened to the minimal list of rules and requirements and decided if he would have me, i would marry him that day (or evening). he put in a full day at the office and arrived home after the sun had set. in the minimal light of dusk, i handed him a Post-It note with the phone number of the County and the marriage license bureau recording. he dialed the number, listened, asked if i was sure, and asked if it was ok that we got something to eat first.

we had dinner at Joe’s Crab Shack as planned, with plenty of beers and a dozen oysters to boot. we bought two Foster’s oil cans and wedding cake (Hostess cupcakes … maybe another post) on our way to the courthouse. we got our license and looked in the phone book for an appropriate chapel (traditional? drive-thru? Elvis?) as enticing as Elvis was, the thought of my father’s reaction to his baby daughter being walked down the aisle by Elvis convinced us to select a drive-thru. we downed one of the oil cans and pulled up to a drive-thru chapel. they provided us a menu of services, most of which we opted against, save the “silk” bouquet consisting of a singular red rose. we smiled and laughed and had a wonderful time as we got married in a pick-up truck in our favorite clothes, with little speakers propped on the aluminum shelf of the drive-thru. the minister had to stop briefly during the ceremony as a bus drove by. the only time el Jefe’ shut off the truck was for our Polaroid photo.

i wouldn’t trade my wedding day for any other. it was absolutely perfect.

Happy 9th Anniversary, el Jefe’. i love you more (mower) and more each day.

it just doesn't get any better

it’s not getting any better.

i started washing windows and baseboards this week in preparation for carpet cleaning and putting the house on the market. the two just go together in my mind (maybe because i use a bucket of Spic n’ Span for both). so in my obsessive pre-dawn insomnia hours, i read nominations for my company’s internal awards program until el Jefe’ leaves the house, and then clean. i’m accomplishing something, but i’m letting it stress me out.

i knocked a bottle of Red Hot out of the cupboard during Punkin’s breakfast. it broke and spewed across the floor and newly cleaned pantry cabinet (one of Saturday’s chores). i really can’t remember if i held my tongue, but Punkin said plenty of “dammit”s in my behalf.

i got more specs this morning from the client, the same client that switched directions 180 degrees on us last Thursday. i worked with our admin assistant all last Friday and over the weekend to incorporate maybe 50% of the changes due to the new direction … and then he sends us another example on Monday and additional sections today. we have a submittal February 22nd and a check set due tomorrow. too much, too late.

i maintain a database for scheduling as a QA/QC coordinator. i implemented this tool in early November, and probably spend two hours a week maintaining it and keeping it up to date. it crashed today. i asked my hero who magically fixed it if he could do the same for the rest of my life. no such luck.

the engineer on my project that is proof of government waste continues to go overboard on temporary erosion control measures that we cannot afford to design, and the project budget cannot afford to fund in construction. and his earthwork estimates have more than doubled from the preliminary phases (and we are bound by the budgets established in those preliminary phases).

my department manager had a strategy meeting at our office up North last Friday. she apologized directly to me, but admitted she has basically thrown up her hands in terms of managing them. this is the office i will transfer to. this is the equivalent of being thrown under the bus.

oh, and the Middle is initiating plans for the big 50th Anniversary adventure. i agreed to about anything, just begging the Eldest that some plans are made in order to take one issue of uncertainty out of my life.

ditto closing line of yesterday’s post.

the voices outside my head

i lost it yesterday.

when are we moving up North? where are we moving to up North? when are we putting the house on the market? what does the doctor(s) say about the Peanut? when do you have to stop swimming? what are you going to do for our 50th anniversary in September? when can you commit to a trip or party or plans? why did you move Punkin into a big boy bed?

who? what? where? when? why? how?
i don't know.

my response was i'm tired and i've fucking had it.

my two (or 32) cents' worth

yesterday was kind of a tough day.

it started at 3 am, for both el Jefe' and me. he was going into work (supposedly his last Saturday, hurray!) and i just couldn't sleep. i cleaned the pantry and did plant maintenance for hours (what fun!). Punkin woke up on the wrong side of the crib. he wanted his "moneys" and could not be placated. i found him two pennies. he could not be consoled. he finally calmed down after 32 cents (talk about inflation!) but i actually caught him digging through my purse a couple times yesterday. hmmm. not sure i like that.

i took Punkin with me to work and printed out some specs to take home (not like i don't have enough to do around the house, but i was feeling guilty for being out of the office Monday to make arrangements up North). he colored a little and rode the elevator, so it wasn't a total bust for him. then we went to Home Depot to find appliance patch. our stove has a chip in the front, probably from the time i was flinging fried eggs (and the frying pan) and beer bottles in a drunken rage of depression. i scored a front row parking space, but no cart. toddler + Home Depot = challenge. we looked in the appliances area; we looked in the paint area. i asked a total of three sales associates for help, and i eventually got something that should patch our stove. then we went to Target where i bought some cleaning supplies (my latest obsession before putting the house on the market), and some new sheets for Punkin's big boy bed, a waterproof mattress pad (you can even get them in queen size!), and bed rails (which by the way adjust to fit a queen size bed as well). am i the only one that thinks that's a little odd?

Punkin barely ate his lunch, poured milk all over his money (the 32 cents), and proceeded to make sock mittens, soak them in milk, and wash his face with them. nap time could not come soon enough, yet he was wound up tight and i was exhausted. eventually, he got some sleep. i tried as well, unsuccessfully.

we met with a realtor, told Punkin's godmother Lola that we are moving, and went to a friend's 40th birthday party that was nicer than a lot of weddings i've attended and dropped our bombshells (promotion, Peanut, and move) on more friends.

i kind of wish my life was more about 32 cents right now.

feels like a century

i believe this is post number 100. i'm surprised, and maybe a little discouraged, a maybe a little disenchanted, and maybe a little proud. i guess this blog is a good metaphor for my life: i do the best i can, even though most things don't turn out the way i had planned. happy anniversary to me.

i got a "Management Bonus" this week at work. i never really wanted to be in the "Management" category. i struggled and strived for 18 years to be recognized as a technical expert, even if it meant giving up more lucrative ($), less stressful, and less demanding opportunities. my coworkers knew, and eventually my immediate supervisor knew, and then i was able to approach the higher realms of management with my goals, wishes, and desires. the company i work for prides itself on offering two career paths (manager and technical expert) yet i had bosses who would blatantly ignore what i wanted, even when i expressed it. (i've had a lot of shitty bosses over my career. i can count two who respected me and my skills and my desires.) i finally put pride aside when i was pregnant with Punkin and let a lot of important people know that was my goal. and the day before i returned to work from maternity (really FMLA) leave, i was made a professional associate. talk about bittersweet; i was vacillating between career and motherhood and work full or part time and stay at home and and and ... and finally i reached my goal. the funny part: it was just a title. i got a certificate and new business cards and nothing else.

this year my company gave the new class of professional associates 3% raises. you got it, the new class. all senior professional associates were awarded some stock/insurance option package that they give to officers of the firm. but the previously appointed plain old professional associates got squat. i bitched to my supervisor and my department manager, not expecting them to change the system, but voicing my displeasure. i got an impressive year end salary adjustment, which i believe compensated for being dissed as an old professional associate.

so then out of the blue came this "Management Bonus". i attend "Managers" meetings because i am involved in marketing, specifically proposal writing (as i am one of the few people in my department of 85 that can write worth a damn), and i manage projects and i'm involved in business and management functions in association with my duties as the QA/QC coordinator. but i don't really feel like "Management", and i don't think i look like "Management", and i'm not part of the "Management" club. but they gave me some money, (not much, especially when half gets sucked up by taxes) and i can't refuse it. i'll politely say thank you and transfer it into savings.

i'm kind of at a career crossroads again, a little over two years from the time i became a mother and a little under two years from the time i became a professional associate. it has to do with the move North, my transfer, and my role (or lack thereof). i haven't had time to campaign for a position because in my heart and my pregnancy-fogged mind, it's a little nebulous, too. so for now, i'll accept the "Management Bonus" and bask in the glory of post number 100.

too many (or too few) balls in the air

i've been remiss on posting frequency lately. i've been juggling alot, and frankly, i suck at juggling. project deadlines are looming. quality coordinator responsibilities are increasing. it's high time we "get around to it" with a number of projects around the house since we're going to put it on the market. we need to solidify plans for el Jefe's move North. and i have appointments with one doctor or another atleast three times a month. and we have a wonderful toddler who is hinting at signs of readiness for potty training, and needs to graduate to a big boy bed.

i'm perfectly willing to let Punkin set the schedule for potty training. i'm encouraged that he shows signs of readiness, but as much as i only want one kid in diapers at a time, i believe i can deal with two if need be. so what if one screams for a couple minutes while the other is getting changed? i'll be sleep deprived and insane anyway. at least i'll be able to have a beer every now and then.

the big boy bed ... well, that's mostly me, and it's all about convenience and being cheap/frugal. we only have one crib, and it was a hand-me-down from the Middle (with twins) (i think they survived with only one crib?!?). we currently have a double bed in the garage; we bought it used and it was in el Jefe's daughter's (my stepdaughter's, bonus child's, whatever) room that became Punkin's bedroom. we have another queen-size bed, which resides in Grandma's room, or the designated guest room. we also have a futon in the loft/office which has been slept on plenty of times.

el Jefe' needs to furnish an apartment for himself, with Punkin and i as an occasional visitor (eventually, i'm not going to be able to travel, and at this rate we'll be lucky to get one trip up North in March). Grandma's bed is going up North as el Jefe's bed. the futon is going up North as Punkin's big boy bed away from home. the crib and changing table are going into Grandma's room. and Punkin is going to graduate to a double bed on or before February 26th. we shuffle furniture, let the movers take care of some clutter removal, and don't spend any additional money (except for bed rails and a pee-proof double mattress pad ... i hope they make such a thing).

it appears i can juggle tangible objects, but i am struggling with juggling events? trust me, i have a planner and an Outlook calendar ... it's just the stress that's getting to me.

and so it begins

it didn't start so well.

i returned a library book. it was two days overdue and i owed 50 cents. honestly, i can't remember, but that may have been my first overdue library book. ever. and then i couldn't check it out again because i had all ready renewed it once. it was a wee-bit humiliating experience.

i picked up Punkin from school on Friday, and we had less than an hour to prepare for our flight up North. el Jefe' had taken care of the dogs, so really all we had to do was pack. and the true packing was done for all three of us in about half an hour. then Punkin needed a diaper change. then i had to pack some snacks and extra food for Punkin. and then i had a meltdown because i couldn't see in the backpack. my dad was going to take us to the airport so we wouldn't have to pay for parking, but we were running too late so we went straight there. then el Jefe' wanted to park in remote (thankfully i squashed that idea). we ate Sbarro for dinner on the floor in the gate waiting area. our hotel was a dump. the kitchenette consisted of a microwave. the heater took several tries to maintain warm air. our neighbors were up all night.

still, we all got a good night's sleep, even if it was short. we skipped the free breakfast consisting of packaged oatmeal and dry cereal, and opted for a Dennys where we truly had a great start of our day. we looked at 3 apartment complexes and 2 rental houses (shacks); our main search criteria was more than one dog over 35 lbs, so our choices had a nearly $400 price range differential per month. we ate lunch on the sidewalk in a parking lot and passers by looked at us like we were homeless. not really, but i was feeling a bit displaced.

Sunday was spent looking at houses from model homes to open houses, to just driving around and gawking. it was exhausting. there is plenty of inventory on the market, so we have some options once we sell our existing home (which is not on the market, yet).

Monday we tried to tour daycares. we got through one despite a toilet-floooding incident. the location wasn't the best, and they thought i was insane for making my own baby food, and the infant room is tiny for kids 6 weeks to a year, but it was an option. the second is close to my office once i transfer, but we couldn't do a tour due to staffing issues. after two attempts and all our questions were answered satisfactorily, i put down a deposit for both kids (the waiting list for Punkin is until summer; the waiting list for Peanut currently is September. do the math. it's worse than getting tickets to the Bozo show). el Jefe' signed up for an apartment. we looked at a few more neighborhoods, flew home, and started some laundry.

we're making progress and it's not all a catastrophe. but the next 20 weeks are not going to be easy. i'll be able to do less as the pregnancy progresses, i'll be able to travel less, and i'll be able to be with el Jefe' less. i'll be a part time single working full time mother. once the Peanut arrives, we'll be moving into a 2 bedroom apartment with an infant, a two-year-old, and a dog or two. i've gotten over the library book; i've got a few other things on my mind.

Abby's post

did i happen to mention we have a dog in diapers? actually, we have two dogs; only one is in diapers. and a toddler in diapers. what fun!

doggie diapers are kind of cute. cute, in the same way i saved one of Punkin's unused newborn diapers. cute, because they are a lot like human baby diapers with velcro-like tabs, except there's a hole for the dog's tail. cute, in that the novelty wears off very quickly. and they are much more expensive than human baby diapers (i think more than a buck a pop). i need to search on-line or get a catalogue to save some money. yet Punkin loves going to Petsmart to see the kitty cats and the birdies and to get Abby's diapers.

Abby's fifteen, which if you do the math is 105 in people years. she's a doberman mix; she kind of looks like an uncropped doberman, and she has the doberman bark, but she's really just old and sweet and deaf (and afraid of ballons). in her first or second year of life she was treated for mange (not the contagious kind) but still it was one of those treatments that has the potential to kill before it cures. (wouldn't you like to hear that disclaimer in a pharmaceutical add on tv?) anyway, she survived that, and then got sick from eating wild mushrooms in the backyard. she survived that, too. she got farmed out (literally, they had six acres) to some of my good friends when i was going through my divorce and only had an apartment for a couple months. she's lived with me in three states, and traveled with me across the US. about eight years ago she was involved in a "grooming incident" at a kennel (she's a short hair so what the hell kind of grooming does that require?) and somehow they spiral-sliced her tail on two sides. fortunately the kennel sent her to the vet we use now, who is the best, and they tried to stitch, wrap, and save her tail. she wore a cone for weeks and weeks, and eventually her tail was amputated, but she still has a couple inches. it works perfectly with the preformed hole in the doggie diaper.

she's camera shy, so the photo pretty much sucks. she looks like Santa's Little Helper on the Simpson's. she's a great old girl, and i'm not complaining about cleaning her kennel this morning or the cost of diapers. you can wear diapers when you're 105, and i'll write a post about you, too.