Christmas Tally

I posted a Christmas wish list earlier. And I got nothing that I asked for, which is fine - most of those are small complaints and completely unfixable via Christmas. Nonetheless, it was a wonderful holiday. Of course, as a family, we also got a few extra unwanted and unanticipated happenings, which turned out to be quite funny, assuming you're as horrible a person as I am. Individually they're not funny, but when you look at them as a combined blob of events, well - you either have to laugh or cry. I prefer to laugh.

1. One kid with pinkeye (my nephew), because Christmas isn't Christmas without an urgent care visit.

2. Another kid with an elbow and wrist sprain (my other nephew) - and another urgent care visit.

3. Late night visits to the pharmacy (had go to out and get meds for my newphews while my sister and brother in law cared for them).

4. A kid with no pants (mine).

5. Same kid with no underwear and a penchant for going commando (again, mine).

6. At least two adults in tears (not me).

7. One adult throwing tantrums (again, not me...who knew?).

8. Four adults with infections (me, my sister, my husband and my mom) - thanks to my newphew and children.

9.Three sugar-crazed children (one with a new cavity...mine).

10. And a partridge in a pear tree. Okay, we didn't really get that one. But I'm glad because partridges poop and pear tree berries make for disgusting bird poop.

So there - I hope everyone and anyone who celebrates had a merry, merry Christmas, a happy Hanukkah, a lovely Kwanzaa or even just a nice day. Whoever you are, you deserve it.

How I know my husband gets me...

Our conversation:

Me: "Oh, God - I can't get Don't Cry for Me, Argentina out of my head! Make it stop!"

Him: "At least it's not Frozen: Let it go! Let it go! Don't hold it back anymore!"

Me: "I hate you."

Him: "And I love you." Then he starts humming Don't Cry for Me, Argentina again.

Dammit. It's moments like these that I remember why I love my husband. He's sadistic but shows it in small ways. It's the little things, after all.

Jinx!

I've noticed that often when I put something to paper (or blog, or e-mail or IM), my plans take a turn for the not happening or the exact opposite of what I'd hoped for. Today's race is a non-starter. We woke to one kid initially too tired (and too congested) to get out of bed. The other sounds suspiciously  like a barking seal. I'm only hoping she doesn't have whooping cough again or if she does, it'll be mild like last time since she's vaccinated.

Side note: we have a few anti-vaxxers in our daughter's preschool who are convinced that vaccinations are the work of the deebil. I agree we should all be informed as parents as to what is being injected into our kids' bodies, but for fuck's sake - if she has pertussis, this will be the second time. I know sometimes kids just get whatever disease they're vaccinated against, but those diseases can be eliminated if everyone is vaccinated - don't rely on others to avoid getting your own kid sick.

Anyway, Rags is now insisting he's good to race and is demanding to have a friend over later. I guess he's not that sick, but I don't want to risk illness before Christmas. Ahhh, parenthood. Completely inconvenient, exhausting and frustrating, but wonderful, rewarding and beautiful. It'll be the death of me, but totally worth it.

Run, run, run as fast as you can...

I'm running a 5K tomorrow for the first time in 4 years. It's going to be tough. I need to stop reminding myself that I've run marathons. I haven't run marathons in 10 years. I haven't run 3 miles at once in nearly that long, too.

That would tell most people that maybe they shouldn't do it. But. My son is coming with me. He's doing the kids' fun run and I want him to see me finish, even if I have to drag my sorry ass across the finish line on my knees.

This time tomorrow, I'm sure I'll be walking funny. And it'll be time to sign up for the next race; if my son likes the kids' run, I'll find one with a longer race than just 1/4 mile. He'll finish that in 3 minutes, I'm sure.

All I Want for Christmas

I cannot believe it's almost Christmas. Life is moving on and it's almost 2015. The kids have written their Christmas lists (of course they did it AFTER shopping had occurred) and the adults are avoiding giving gifts to other adults because it just stopped making sense years ago. If I were to write a Christmas list, though, here is what it would look like.

1. To have the right to remain silent. No, I'm not going to jail, but for Pete's sake, I'm tired of talking. I talk all day at work. I talk all evening when I come home. Then I tell my kids a story (which requires speaking) then talk to my husband after the kids go to bed. Sometimes I'll be half asleep and he crawls in bed and starts talking to me. Or my daughter will wobble into the room in the middle of the night or just before my alarm goes off to "chat." I'm. Done. Talking. But just for a little while.

2.  Not to be the complaint repository. A lot of management and parenting and being a spouse or even just a human being requires listening. A lot of it. It's not that I don't like to listen, because I do. But it would be awesome - just awesome, really - if a good 2/3s of what I listened to didn't involve talking someone off a ledge, soothing someone or reassuring them that yes, I would talk to the other party about it (see item 1) or coaching them on how to talk to the other party about an issue.

3. To watch episode 1 of the last season of Sherlock. Guess what I was doing when that was on? I was listening to someone complain. I need closure, dammit. Or opening. Something along those lines.

4. To not have to put anyone's clothing on for them for a solid week. Evelyn, I'm looking at you. I will never get your pants on just right. See item 2.

5. To go to the Grand Canyon. This is really the only thing I want that doesn't hinge entirely on someone else's restraint. But it does cost a buttload of money. I bring in a decent salary, but don't happen to have a buttload of anything but laundry hanging about. At least it's clean. Anyway, I'll get there someday. It probably won't be this year, but who knows? Stranger things have happened.

So, that's it. I could put world peace, improved race relations and elimination of socio-economc barriers to services and job opportunities. And I want those things dearly. Though I'm focusing on my more immediate surroundings for my Christmas list. And trying to avoid sounding like a Miss America contestant.

Reading hierarchy - yes, there is one and it is important

My husband makes fun of me...constantly. What I'm being made fun of will vary, though. Last night, he was getting his rocks off by mocking my reading hierarchy. My reading hierarchy is very important to me. Much like his habit of setting up a "nine day shirt cycle" (yes, I'm married to Sheldon from The Big Bang Theory...what?), I have a reading hierarchy, organized in order of importance. You'll notice that the more important said item is, the less enjoyable it is. It goes like this:

1. Stuff I have to read not to get fired: work reading. Includes legislation, subregulatory guidance, memos, notes, data review, criteria development, requirements documentation, etc. There's LOTS of it, so I have to manage this first.

2. Crap I have to read not to get arrested or default on anything: mail. I hate mail, but hey - sometimes I'm supposed to read it, like if it's from the IRS.

3. Stuff I have to read not to be reported to CPS, or that I should read because "that's what good parents do": report cards, homework, kids' tests, stuff from cub scouts, stuff from ballet class.

4. Things I should read because they're old and therefore somehow very important: classic literature.

5. Stuff I read because I like to pretend like I'm smart: news, news sites, rah-rah business books (7 Habits variety) and such.

6. Stuff I read because I enjoy feeling bad about myself, but sometimes they help me do something that makes me feel better: women's magazines, health magazines, books on clean eating.

7. Things I read because I'm trying to pretend like not everything I read is a bodice ripper, yet I actually want to enjoy what I'm reading: creepy fiction, fantasy (e.g., A Song of Ice and Fire), some non-fiction history, kids' books (I read these with my children, for Pete's sake - I wouldn't read Splat the Cat on my own! Really!).

8. Things I read because it's a total escape (if you haven't noticed, I tend to read a bit): trashy romance, erotica.

The problem with #8 is it's amazing how truly painful it is to read a bad trashy romance. And while I'm dearly grateful to e-publishing for helping me get my own start as a smut-peddler, it's amazing how badly written a lot of the downloads from major electronic book sellers truly are.

If it's not poorly written sex scenes (the word sloshing and sex should never be in the same sentence, even if one of the characters is carrying around a bucket of water), it's reading about people you'd probably slap silly in real life. In other words, it's what made me start writing smut in the first place, only way more of it.

So there you have it. My reading hierarchy. Believe it or not, I DO work. I just needed a mental break. After putting in 60 hours this week, my brain is shot and I need to engage the reading hierarchy as soon as possible.

Because punching people is not an option

I've been working from home this week, partly because the Ferguson protests were close to my building, but mostly because I was supporting an audit. I don't understand how people work from home regularly. I used to do it and became a total hermit. Right now I can feel myself becoming an anti-social harridan. Mostly because listening to some of the people I work with and/or some of the people we work FOR makes me want to punch someone.

So, maybe that's why people work from home. Anyway, since I've already put in more than 40 hours this week and it's Thursday, I thought I'd come up with a list of healthy alternatives to not punching someone (since I can't right now anyway):

1. Find something hilarious - such as when I heard the Large, Important Government Agency I was talking to get kicked out of the room by someone apparently more important than them. Hey, a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. And if you work in government health care, there's precious little that's funny.

2. Dork out. I out-guidanced our auditor. And I was elated. I put myself on mute, screamed, "That's what I'm talkin' about, baby!" and danced around the room. Of course, this was after being on hold for 30 minutes while they tried to find legislation to disprove me.

3. Pace. One of the few things I like about working from home is that I can pace. I pace a lot. Since I"m on the phone for usually 6 hours a day at least, I've practically worn tracks into the carpets.

4. Add fun commentary to your official documentation. (But delete it before it goes to anyone)

5. Sit in a corner and rock. Ok, not super healthy, but still viable.

6. Drink an assload of coffee - until you shake. Then see how you react to e-mail. Hmmm. Maybe wouldn't have the intended effect of talking someone out of punching someone, though.

I can't think of many other alternatives. I could theoretically go for a walk. But it's cold outside. And I'm whiny. I think I'll go have coffee.

Show Stoppers

I was kissing my daughter good night last night when I ran into one of my children's famous conversation stoppers.

Me: "Wow, you look like Dora with that haircut!"

Her: "I hate Dora."

Me: "Well, it looks good. Do you like it?"

Her: "Yes. You smell like cheese." (Keep in mind I had just showered, so unless my soap is cheddar scented, I should've smelled like flowers.)

What the heck? I'm not even sure what to say to things like that. Kind of like when Rags said his dinner looked like gingivitis. Honestly, how do you respond to that? It brings any conversation to a screaming, screeching halt.

It surprised me so much it made me choke a little, then I had to leave for a minute because I was laughing so hard I was almost crying. And there you go: my boring Monday night. An opener to an equally boring Tuesday peppered by mild hysteria related to an audit I'm supporting from 7 a.m. to 7 p.m. every day this week.