I Could-Not, Would-Not Concentrate

I am a nice girl. I am fun. I'm even pretty bright.

But occasionally my synapses completely fail me and I walk around with my head up my ass not knowing what I'm doing from one moment to the next.

I went down to Ft. Belvoir's hospital tonight, to a Pre-Registration for school physicals/sports physicals. Took Dillon's forms, his ID, his records, waited my turn (I was number 10), got what I needed to filled out & stamped, and made an appointment on September 7th for the real physical (because the military doesn't do anything in the most direct manner), and then, an hour later, went home. On the way, I noticed that the high school form that they filled out for me was nowhere to be found. Not in my purse, not on the seat, not on the floor, not in the door...

(Not here, not there, not ANYwhere...)

I looked all over for it. All I can figure is that I stuck it into Dillon's records and it's safely tucked in the the records room at the hospital OR that I set it down while making the appointment and never picked it back up. It's the ENTIRE reason I slogged down there tonight (at rush hour)... The paperwork that is REQUIRED for his appointment. Without it, we'll just be staring a the doctor and he'll be staring back at us thinking, "Wow, this kid's mom is an idiot."

I'll call the head nurse tomorrow, and perhaps the records room, but if they don't find it, I'll be headed back down there NEXT Tuesday night to Re-Pre-Register and get ANOTHER Sports Physical form filled out.

I'd complain, but I really do it all to myself. I should just stay focused All The Time instead of just when it suits me.

History Comes Around

Got an email last night.

It was from Dale.

Called him. Talked for about 45 minutes.

All is Good.

Weird...but Good.

The Wrinkled Old Hag From the Seventh Circle of Hell

Oh, Lord! The insanity of it all!

It's been 3 weeks since I stared my new job and after a week (ONE WEEK) I needed a 2-week vacation. So I took one.

Actually, it was an already-planned trip home to Indiana, which was well worth the 23 hours we spent in the car getting there and back. Love my family, but Ick.

I've been back to work for 3 days and I've been having fantasies about running off to the Caribbean with my friend Annie and commencing our Move-To-A-Tropical-Island-And-Make-Frosty-Beverages-And- Woven-Ankle-Bracelets-For-Tourists Plan. But Annie, as luck would have it, has just had a baby and is still in that rosy I-Bred-The-Most-Beautiful-Baby-In-The-World-And-After-I-Whip- Up-Some-Gourmet-Dinner-I'll-Take-Him-For-A-Walk-And-Let-The-Neighbors-Oogle-Him-In-His-Matching-Onesie-Hat-And-Blanket* Stage and probably not at all inclined to skip town. I'll give her 2 or 3 years and then check back. She should be just in the middle of temper tantrums and potty training....

(*Editors Note: He really is an exceptionally beautiful baby. And I am not one of those who thinks all babies are beautiful. Really. Some babies are scrunchy red blobs of unfortunate "eww". But not this one. I'll find a photo and prove it.)

Anyway, so here I will have to remain, hoping against all hope that once the kids are in school I'll realize the benefit of working from 9-1...

Oh! Did I say "working"? What I meant to say is "fielding shitty phone calls from homeowners who think they sit at the right hand of God since they are 'Original Owners'".

As if paying $30,000 for your house in 1968 gives you more right to bitch than say, someone who paid half-a-MILLION dollars 8 months ago.

Today was not a good day. I had to* hang up on an old hag. I will field complaints, as my Title, Unfortunate Though It May Be, IS Customer Service Representative, but I draw the line at being abused.

*("Had To" - a VERY subjective term in Customer Service Land)

You may recall, before I left, that the neighborhood was being repaved. The parking spaces were to be relined last Friday, but as it was raining, painting was inadvisable. So. BEFORE I got into work this Monday morning, Mr. H leaves a voice message wanting to know if they would be painting today. So I called Paving-Contractor-Guy who told me Thursday they would paint. I could have just sent out a flyer to let the affected homeowners know, but as a COURTESY, I called back Mr. & Mrs. Hubbard.

"Is Mr. or Mrs. Hubbard there? This is Paige from the homeowners association."

"This is Mrs. Hubbard."

"Hello, I was just calling you to let you know that the painting has been rescheduled for Thursday after 9."

"Oh, well are you going to send out a flyer or should we walk up and down the streets telling our neighbors?"

(Here, I am rendered speechless. Not in my head though: "Why you wrinkled up old hag of a cunt. I did not have to call you, and that was completely and totally unnecessary rudeness.")

Paige, sputtering: "Yes, we are going to send out flyers."

Hag: "Well, we are the ones who have been most inconvenienced by this repaving and we are sick and tired of it. We even had to initiate the phone call this morning to find out what is going on...blah, blah, blah..."

(Well, she got me there. I could have thought to call the contractor while still in my jammies before I even went into work, but damn it all to hell! I guess I'm just not that devoted to the job! I actually waited until 9am, when my office opened, to check in with Paving-Contractor-Guy. I'll know better next time, though.)

Paige, who can't say all the evil, nasty things that are swimming around in her head: "I'm sorry, Ma'am."

Hag: "Bitch, Bitch Bitch, blah, blah, blah...."

Paige, getting ready to lose it: "Mrs. Hubbard, I was just calling you as a courtesy. You will see a flyer soon."

And I hung up.

But DON'T think I'll be forgetting her name very soon and don't think I'll be going out of my way for her before I see her crawling on her knees across my parking lot with Sparkly Trinkets and Pink Roses in offering for my forgiveness.

Because she was Not Nice to me today. And I didn't do anything to her.

Job, Day One

So. The new job...

Sat there today from 9-1:30 poking through files and folders, drawers and desks. The temp that was there was working on something that needed to be done by today and didn't really have time to dedicate to teaching me the most basic of tasks.

I answered the phone 3 times, wondering each time why I even bothered. The people on the other end were expecting someone who knew answers and I don't know anything. Anything.

But I have to learn quickly as I'm headed home to Indiana on Sunday for 10 days and when I get back here the temp who is in the job now will be long gone and I'll be on my own. Yikes.

Whose idea was this, anyway?

Fourth Place Is Nothing to Sneeze At

Noodle took 4th in Dive Divisionals today!!!

Woo-hooo!!!!!!!!!!!!

Not bad for a girl that just started diving 8 weeks ago...

Now we're looking into the Winter Dive Program at George Mason University...

The Job

I got the job.

I start Monday at 9am.

I'm pretty excited.

News to Make you Sick

So.

A woman got mad at her 4-year-old son yesterday and kicked him out of the car ON THE BELTWAY (!). As she was pulling away, he tried to get back in. She then hit him and drove off.

What the FUCK?!?!?!

What twisted part of her brain decided that dumping him on the freeway was the appropriate resopnse? WHAT could a 4-year-old (who was SURELY restrained in a carseat) have done that was so repugnant to warrant her behavior?

I sincerely believe that sterilization should be a part of her punishment. Unless we could go straight to firing squad and nip any further problems in the bud...

The Accidental Job

I think I accidentally got a job today.

Here's how it happened:

A few weeks ago, Tater heard that the Customer Service Rep. position for our neighborhood* was in need of a body. Naturally, he thought of me. (Insert scowling emoticon.) Even though I didn't want to start working until September. So he talked to the Girl In Charge and told her I would call her.

*We live in a hybrid condo-townhouse, which means that we own it, but they can boss us around about paint colors, plantings, outside decoration (Allowed: NONE), but it also means that if my bricks start falling off my house or the roof caves in, they are responsible.

So call her I did (two days later).

She asked me what my Skills were.

A vacant expression came over me... I make a great Lasagna. I can dance and make a fruity Margarita. I crack my friends up and make decent jewelry. I write a marginally interesting journal, and I'm a damn good Mom (if I do say so myself). I have a degree in Psychology and one in Criminology, I can decorate a house and plant a beautiful garden...

But NONE of this does me any good in an Office. With a Computer and a Fax Machine, a Copier and a telephone with all the fancy buttons.

Before I could formulate an acceptable answer, she asked me if I could use Excel and Word ("sure! what the hell!") and asked me to meet her this morning. I talked to her for about 15 minutes before she asked me if I could start on Monday. ("sure! what the hell!")

Office Work was never on my radar of job possibilities. It sounds boring. And tedious. And Not Fun. And I have strict guidelines about only doing things that are Fun. Life Is Too Short.

But the logistics of this job are perfect. It's Monday - Friday, 9-1 or 2, it's only about 3 blocks from home and 1 block from the Noodle's school. It's a one person office, basically an assistant for the Girl In Charge I talked to today. It pays $12/hour, they are flexible concerning snow days and doctor appointments, school functions and short vacations. And I can wear jeans.

So I have to meet the President of Board on Friday so he can give me the once-over and we'll see what happens.

(But seeing as how I'm their only applicant and even using half my brain power I could handle the responsibilities, I'm not too worried.)

Blue Ribbons and Guitars

Just home from the Dive meet.

Mac got First Place!!

She rocked the house and now has a very beautiful perma-smile on her face.

AND, FYI, she got first place in freestyle last night and almost-first place (otherwise known as second) in breast last night. She missed it by 22 hundreths of a second....

And Mom just told me Dillon had his first guitar lesson today and enjoyed it very much. THAT'S my little Hippie. :)

Hoo-Ha Talk

Feeling better, though I think I overdid it yesterday. I spent all day puttering around the house - I just couldn't sit around for another day. I vacuumed, cleaned the kitchen, rearranged the pantry (hello, OCD!), did some laundry, made pancakes for breakfast (and cookies for lunch!), worked in the yard a bit, then took Noodle to Blockbuster. Princess Diaries 2. Cute. (If you're a girl.)

And now I'm bleeding like a stuck pig.

Though anyone who would stick a pig in her hoo-ha is a sick, sick puppy.

Enough hoo-ha-talk. Noodle only has one more week of swim and dive team. She has mixed feelings about that. She's had enough of getting up every morning to swim at 7:30, but truly loves to go to dive practice every afternoon. Key word: AFTERNOON. I think she would be enjoying swimming more if it weren't so early. I'll be interested to see what she does next summer.

Reese's Penis

So.

Noodle and I were standing in the checkout line of Target the other day. I'm checking out the candy selection to see if there's anything interesting to rot the teeth out of our heads and make us fat, when I spot something. "Hey, Noodle. Look! Reese's Penis!"

Really Loud.

Then we started laughing Really Loud. The lady in front of us, and the lady behind us, and the checkout lady - none were laughing. But we were DYING! We couldn't catch our breath. We had tears squirting out our eyes. And the more they DIDN'T laugh, the more we did.

We made it though the checkout lane, all the way to the car I kept an eye on my back for Child Protective Services, and when we got to the car, Noodle looks at me and says, "Reese's Penis?"

(Hysterical laughter again......) (And again and again, periodically through the night.)

What I had actually meant to say was, "Look Noodle, REESE'S PIECES WITH PEANUTS."

Be warned.

Hating the Updates

I always hate it when I let so many days go by without updating. Then the prospect of picking things up from here seems overwhelming. Where do I start? Do I recap? (I hate recaps.) Do I just start from today? (Today was boring.) How 'bout a compromise: I'll hit the highlights. I can think of a couple people who are wondering if I fell off the face of the earth again...

First of all, D made it home from Florida ok. It took him forever to get off the plane and I was having a panic attack that he had gotten on the wrong plane again and was waiting for me in Albuquerque.

Then the next day my parents arrived for a visit. We saw Arlington, Mt Vernon, Lincoln, FDR, Jefferson, WWII, Navy, Women in Service Memorials...We went to the Museum of Natural History, the Air & Space Museum and tried to see the Declaration of Independence (line too long)... went to 3 swim & dive meets, the Nursery to buy plants for my birthday, and ordered out Chinese. After the week we were all exhausted and lost about 5 lbs each in water-weight from our reinactment of the Bataan Death March the day we saw all the memorials.

Our G5 tanked and it took a week, my laptop, several phone calls to Apple, and a trip to the Apple Store to fix it.

D went back to Indiana with my parents for a month to work. Doing hard labor, hopefully.

(Boys, TMI just around the bend...)

I had my D&C, Hysteroscopy, Polypectomy, and Biopsy (check me out, I'm like WebMD) done on Monday. Today is Wednesday, and I surprisingly still feel like crap. I have to pee constantly, until this morning I was constipated (making me think of Dooce at the most inappropriate times), immediately after which solving THAT problem I started bleeding again, I'm still cramping, laughing hurts and I feel like someone inflated a balloon in my belly, and on top of it all, I have a clearish-yellowish discharge. I am, in a word, Gross.

Ho-Hum

So Noodle just spent the first 4 days of her summer vacation with a sore throat and a fever wavering between 100 and 104.9 degrees. She was seriously bummed. She missed 2 swim meets and a dive meet. She seems to be better tonight so she's going to practice in the morning at 8am. She is already whining about that. She is part vampire and is not at all about the mornings. Especially during summer vacation.

I heard from Dillon after being in Florida for about 24 hours. He had lost a contact and forgotten to take extras. What a goof. Thanks to Wal-mart, it is no big deal and he can get more down there! OOH! But he has to do it before the 30th. That's the day his prescription expires. Hmmm. I better call him in the morning.

I have a pre-op appointment in the morning for my D&C next month. Ugh. Not sure what to expect and I have mixed feelings about the surgery anyway. If it corrects my girly-troubles then I guess I'm OK with it, but being put under, and the scraping, and the recovering is raining on my parade.

Drama Before Dawn

I saw the most beautiful sunrise this morning.

From Ronald Reagan National Airport.

I set my alarm for 4am, but woke up at 3:34. (At that point it's just stupid to go back to sleep. Twenty-six minutes is just enough time to fall into a deep sleep, just to have the rudeness of your alarm* jar you into the present and thus ruin your whole day. Better to get it over with when you wake up naturally.) (*But I do suggest trying out my alarm clock if yours scares the crap out of you in the morning. It's the iPod Compatible Travel Soother 20 Radio/Alarm Clock from Sharper Image. I got it for Valentine's Day and it has a deal where you can change the super-scary alarm to sound like church bells instead. It rocks. Very soothing, yet still gets the job done.)

ANYway, the reason I was even at National at such an ungodly hour is that I had to drop Dillon off at Gate 35 for a 5:55 boarding call for his flight to Florida.

Yup, the kid got out of school yesterday and bailed down the beach for A Fortnight of Fun with his BFF, Milton. He checked 2 boogie-boards and a duffel bag full of shorts and T's and carried on a Big-Ass Grin.

And then got on the wrong airplane. Don't even ask me how it happened, but he took the shuttle out to the commuter, boarded, and said he was sitting in his seat, 9A, when a guy came up and said, "That's my seat."
D says, "No, look right here. 9A, that's me."
"You're going to Orlando."
With a big grin, "That's right!"
"This plane's going to Philadelphia."

So he got up, told them he was on the wrong plane (thank God seat 9A was booked!), and they got him hooked up with the correct flight. I heard from him around 11:30. They were on the way to the beach.

I, on the other hand, have been nursing Noodle all day long. She woke up with a sore throat and fever and at this point has spiraled down to whispering and topping the thermometer at 104.6.

She's asleep now. I don't expect to get any for the next 24 hours at least.

The Tween

Time is doing that slow, time-warpy thing again. The days fly by, but when I stop to realize what all I have done over the past week, it seems very much like Nothing. Scratch that. It IS very much like nothing. Laundry. Gardening. Picking up kids. Dropping off kids. Watching dive practice. Cooking dinner. Dusting (it's very dusty here). Run to Post Office. Grocery. CVS. Do you feel all drained and heavy-like yet? Then you get the gist.

(Time out for phone call.)

That was Noodle. Today is the last day of school. She ran out of money in her lunch account yesterday. Crap! Now I have to go make a lunch for her and take it to the school by 11:30. THIS is what I'm talking about. Really. The hard part about babies isn't the added expense, or the diapers or all-night crying jags. It's when they require constant maintenance/rides/trips to the mall to keep them "involved" and "cool" as teens and "tweens".

Noodle is a "tween". Not a kid, not a teen. But don't tell her that. She thinks she's an adult. Seriously. She's always been an "old soul", but D was like that too, and I just always attributed it to Tater and I being so young when D was born - there weren't any other kids around - and then when Noodle came along, she just got absorbed into our grown-up life. I started thinking about it a few weeks ago when a friend and I were talking about having a Girls Night Out. Noodle heard us and said, "I want to come".

"You can't. This is just for adults."

She looked right into my eyes and said, "I am not a kid."

And it occurred to me just then that she's really not. But, she's not 21 either. Bummer for her.