My Real Life

January 13, 2010

My Work Nemesis

Filed under: Uncategorized — Amy @ 5:37 pm
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For those of you who work outside of the home, or who have ever worked outside of my home, you know exactly what I mean when I say, “My Work Nemesis.”

We all have them.

It’s that one being who just completely rubs you the wrong way. 

Their very existence at your place of work makes your day a little less…sunny? joyful? positive?

They taunt you…maybe not out loud, but certainly behind your back, and you know it.

Their very presence can, sometimes, cause you to do things that are completely out of character for you, and that you know aren’t good for you on so many levels.

And yet…they are there to stay.

In some places, your work nemesis has been there far longer than you have.

In other cases, your work nemesis showed up after you were hired, and while others raved about the new placement, you knew, immediately, that it was T-R-O-U-B-L-E.

You don’t want to complain, because you know that everyone doesn’t feel the same as you.  The last thing you need is people who you do like turning against you.

So, you suffer in silence, and you wind up getting sucked in again and again to those bad behaviors as you try to thwart your nemesis.

(Let me just say, right now, that I only know of one person who I work with who reads this blog…I’m wondering if she has already scrolled to the bottom to see if I reveal the name of my work nemesis…it makes me giggle a little.)

Anyway, today I have struggled a lot with my nemesis. 

A lot.

Luckily, her room isn’t anywhere near my office, so I don’t have to see her or hear her on a regular basis, unless I have to pass her room on my route elsewhere.

But, I know she’s there. 

Who is my nemesis?

That’s right.

The freaking vending machine.

Around 1:00 pm, every day, I get hit with a sweet tooth.

Never mind that I actually can’t eat ANYTHING in the machine without some diabetic consequences, she still calls me…every day.

“Amy…” she calls.

“Push it.  Push D1…you know you want a Snickers…just $0.75, Amy…surely you can spare $0.75?”

Evil.

Wicked.

Vending machine.

January 12, 2010

Sibling Love

Filed under: Uncategorized — Amy @ 9:49 pm

There are some sounds that warm the heart of a mother, like nothing else.

Giggling, happy children.

Hearing, “I’d love to share with you!”

The sound of a brand new baby making those unbelievably cute brand new baby noises while they sleep.

Hearing, “We’d love to have him/her over any time…He/she is so polite!”

A quiet, whispered, “I love you, Mommy,” as you snuggle close.

There are also some sights that warm the heart of a mother, like nothing else.

Like this:

I had prepared their waffles for them, and everyone was sitting in their seats, on opposite sides of the table, when I went to get dressed.  Plenty of space for everyone to spread out.

I got dressed, came back to the kitchen, and this is what I found.

Like magnets, they are drawn to each other.

They just want to be together.

When they watch a movie together, not only are they all touching, but they are usually smushed onto one cushion on the couch, limbs entwined, or laying on my bed, Monkey Girl on her stomach, and the boys laying across her back.

These kids love each other.

Life, seriously, does not get any better than this.

January 11, 2010

Real Extreme

Filed under: Uncategorized — Amy @ 9:49 pm
Tags: ,

Professionally, I am a woman who carefully studies an issue, does her research and makes intelligent, informed decisions.

As a mother, I do the same.

As a woman…

Eh…Um…

Not always so much with the carefully considered decisions.

I tend to be a bit of an extremist when it comes to myself.

The reason I share this bit of information with you is because I came across a picture of myself last night that I thought I would share.

However, I felt it needed a bit of an explanation as for the extremity of the picture.

Monkey Girl was born in February of 2001.

She was delightful.

I had very, very long hair when she was born,  The prenatal vitamins kicked into overdrive during  my pregnancy, and by the time she came, Crystal Gayle, eat your heart out.  (For those youngsters in the crowd…she was a 70’s singer with ridiculously long hair…Can’t believe I’m old enough to have to explain pop culture references from the 70’s.)

I digress…

One of Monkey Girls favorite things to do was to bunch up my hair in her fists and pull.  She was a few months old, so I knew she wasn’t trying to hurt me, just exploring.

Still, it hurt.

A lot.

It was also a pain to do the ponytail thing every day, and I was feeling schlubby and decided to get a trim.

So, me, Extreme Girl, got in my car and drove to the salon…very spontaneously.

I sat in the chair and said, “Take it off.  Take it all off.”

The hairdresser looked at me and said, “All?”

I said, “Yes!  All!”

She said, “Have you thought about this?”

I said, “I think too much.  I want it off.”

When I get a haircut, I have to take off my glasses, and that means I can’t see what my hair looks like until it’s all done.

When I put my glasses on, I nodded and squeaked out a “Great! Thanks,” grabbed my purse, paid and raced to the car where I promptly burst into tears.

When I got home, Real Man said, “It looks great!  You’re beautiful!  You just need time to get used to it!”

I cried harder.

He ran me a bath and told me to go relax with a book and calm down.

I got in the tub and curled up and sobbed and sobbed.

I now see that picture and can say, “You know, it was kind of cute!”  I also remember how easy it was to take care of.  Overall, it was not a bad cut.

But back then…

It was a huge learning experience for me.  I never realized how much security I get from my hair, or how completely vulnerable I would feel without it all. 

I was suddenly Samson, having lost all of my strength by getting my hair all chopped off.

When I look back at it now, I’m really surprised at my reaction.  It’s just hair.  It will grow back.  It DID grow back.

Yet, my reaction was so strong, that it surprises me still, as I’ve never been a big one for caring how other people view me.  It was really about how I viewed myself.

Anyway, I’ve never gone that short again. 

I’ve never even gone remotely NEAR that short again. 

I am also totally in awe of people who can rock a short ‘do.

However, I’m starting to think about getting the chop again and donating the hair to Locks of Love or some other, similar organization.  My decision was just that.  A decision.  Whether I liked it or not, I chose to chop. 

What about those people who don’t get to decide?  Those for whom chemo or radiation takes the decision out of their hands?

And I made such a fuss over a haircut I didn’t like?

Shame on me.

Suddenly a bad hair day doesn’t seem all that bad, and the idea of using the lesson I learned to help someone else is seeming better and better.

January 10, 2010

Real Inspiration, for Real

Filed under: Uncategorized — Amy @ 7:56 pm
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If you don’t have 6 minutes right now, then please bookmark this link and go back and see this when you do have 6 minutes. 

I have rarely seen such an inspiring story. 

Hard to know who is the bigger inspiration.

As a human, I’m inspired by the boy. 

As a parent, I’m inspired by the dad.

I’m speechless.

5 Things I Love Sunday

Filed under: Uncategorized — Amy @ 10:48 am
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One of the blogs I frequently visit, A Beautiful Mess, has a regular feature called, “10 Things I Love Sunday.”  

I enjoy her list, and am frequently inspired by some of the things she posts.

So, I figured that I would try it this week, and see how it goes.

1.  Elsie, at  A Beautiful Mess, posted a link to this Etsy shop which sells vintage fifties dresses.  I love vintage 1950’s dresses.  Here are a few of my favorites.

If I had the money and a place to wear them, they would totally be mine!

2.  Creative wedding photos.

Yes, I agree that it appears that no one is enjoying this wedding, but these people will have an album unlike any other.  Thinking outside the box appeals to me.

3.  Grand pianos.

Someday…someday.

4.  Shoes.

I love them. 

I’m arch-challenged, so flats are not for me.  I love heels.  Love them!

When I was single, there wasn’t a pair of shoes that I didn’t buy.

To be honest, even when I got married, I continued to buy shoes. 

However, with each respective monkey that arrived, I bought less and less, until I got to today when I can’t even remember the last pair of shoes I bought.  Has to have been at least two years ago.

But I still browse and try on and look and drool.

5.  Puppies.

Need I say more?

(All photos, except for the first Etsy photo from flickr.com)

January 9, 2010

Real Inspiration

Filed under: Uncategorized — Amy @ 9:25 pm
Tags: , ,

For those of you who are reading this because of the title and are thinking this is a story of courage and triumph, let me stop you right here.

It’s not.

I need to exercise.  I really need to exercise.

I’m not overweight, I’m not out of shape, however, I need to exercise on a regular basis to keep my blood sugar in check and to keep my asthma at bay.  It really is a question of my health, not of vanity.

My 76 year-old father-in-law just joined a gym because he hates that he’s had to stop walking because of the cold.  This guy walks for miles and miles.  I’ve been driving my car, miles from home and the monkeys will yell, “HEY! There’s Grandpa!”

If he can do it, I can certainly do it. 

Just to clarify…he’s not my inspiration.  I mean, yes, he is, but not for the purposes of this post.

Sorry.

For awhile, I used my complete collection of Buffy the Vampire Slayer dvd’s to keep me going on the treadmill.  I’d pop one into the portable dvd player and BAM…45 – 50 minutes of treadmill walking in which I was completely entertained.  However, I finished the whole series.  So, then I went through the Angel series.  I’d walk and then during the fight scenes, I’d ramp it up and run through them.

For awhile, I was reading while on the treadmill, but that didn’t work out too well, as my eyesight is poor enough without adding me running while trying to read.

And so…over time, I just stopped running on the treadmill.

It was easy to let it slide.  I’ve been hit with more sinus infections than I can even count, and the jogging didn’t help the constant head pain.  It’s cold outside and the room where the treadmill is used to be a garage, and it gets chilly in there and my asthma is cold induced asthma.

See, I can rationalize my way out of anything.

Then, my birthday rolled around and my Daddy gave me this:

Yeah baby!  Glee…Season One, Volume I: The Road to Sectionals.

I’ve been re-inspired.

There are no fight scenes, but there is plenty of running to be done during the song/dance numbers.

We had baked ziti tonight.  A no-no for me on so very many levels, health-wise.

So, when dinner was over and the monkeys were happily playing, Glee and I hit the treadmill.  Burned 300 calories and ran/walked for 47 minutes.

Is it corny to say that I am positively gleeful about this new routine?

January 8, 2010

Random Thoughts

Filed under: Uncategorized — Amy @ 3:46 pm

I had a CT scan this morning for my sinuses.

This gave me some time to be perfectly still and alone with my thoughts.

Always dangerous.

My first thoughts were about not moving.

What if I need to swallow?  Can I move my eyes behind my eyelids?  Will that mess it all up?

Then, I was gripped with the overwhelming urge to move my tongue around in my mouth and roll my eyes behind my eyelids.  I restrained myself because I realized if I was on a camera they would probably think I was having a seizure.

My thoughts, though, kept rolling.

I started thinking about how far technology has come.  I mean, this machine was taking pictures of the inside of my head!!!

My doctor can look at these pictures and can figure out what the heck is going on with my sinuses by looking at these pictures.  Amazing.

They have machines that can take 3-D pictures of babies in utero.  IN UTERO!!!  Are you kidding  me?

I’m typing this, right now, on a laptop that isn’t plugged in to anything.  While this window is open, another window is hiding that has the internet, which somehow is wirelessly transmitting all sorts of stuff.

If I open Skype, I could talk to someone by looking at my computer.  What?

I digress.

From there, my thoughts started to go back in time.

Perhaps they didn’t need CT scans in the “olden days.”  I mean, did anyone in Walnut Grove get sinus infections?  Did anyone buy peanuts from Olson’s General Store and need an epi-pen from a nut allergy?

Why is it, that as we progress in so many ways, as a civilization, are we regressing with regards to certain aspects of our health?

Then I started thinking what my life would have been if I was born during Revolutionary times. 

Ben Franklin could have given me some glasses, but would they be strong enough to really help me?  Would I have been the sickly sister, relegated to staying in bed most of the time because of my asthma?  What would have happened with my diabetes?  Would we have said I had a “weak constitution?” 

Alternatively, I started going down another road with my thoughts and started wondering what George Washington would think if he was suddenly resurrected and took a walk through my town.  He stayed here for a winter.  He was pretty darn familiar with it.  So, what would he think?  Would he think it was an improvement or would he think we had ruined it?

What would Henry VIII think of the current monarchy?  What would his opinion of Prince Charles be?

Finally, the radiology tech came in and told me that I was all done.

Phewf…it’s not a good thing to leave me alone with my thoughts for too long.

FYI…the CT scan? 

Yeah, it was only 3 minutes long.

Told ya that being alone with my thoughts was a bad idea.

January 7, 2010

Don’t Wanna

Filed under: Uncategorized — Amy @ 10:14 pm
Tags: , ,

Monkey Girl is a Girl Scout.

A Brownie, to be exact.

She loves being a Brownie.  She loves everything about it.

In her old school, she had Brownies once a month.  In her new school, they haven’t actually met yet, as it is run a little differently, but tomorrow is their first meeting to kick off the cookie sale.

She is just beside herself with excitement.

She has her Brownie vest, but all of the badges aren’t quite on.

See, the badges are iron-on. 

Irons and I are not friends.

Irons and I don’t like each other very much.

I think you could go so far as to say that irons are my enemies.

I tried to iron-on some of her badges in the early years, but they never stuck, they fell off, and it was a huge pain in my patootie.

So, I started sewing them on.

I love to sew.

I do not love to sew Brownie badges, because they aren’t made to be sewn.  They are thick material with some sort of plastic-y backing stuff that needles do not pass easily through.

So, over the last two years, the badges have just kind of…piled up.

Tomorrow’s meeting is not after school.  It is in the evening at a local pizza place.

I figured we were home free with the whole vest-wearing thing.

Then the e-mail came.

“Let’s have the girls wear their vests and brown pants to school tomorrow!”

Well, we don’t have brown pants, and the vest isn’t quite up-to-date.

I’ve got a looooong night ahead of me.

It’ll be worth it when I see the smile on her face in the morning, but for now, I say again…

I’ve got a looooong night ahead of me.

January 6, 2010

The Talk

Filed under: Uncategorized — Amy @ 9:40 pm
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So, the boys were in bed, and Monkey Girl was reading her book. 

Real Man and I were chatting about our day and Monkey Girl puts down her book and says:

“Is Santa really the parents?”

Real Man and I freeze and look at each other with deer-in-the-headlights eyes.

Me: “Well, what do you think?”

Monkey Girl: “Well, I want to believe, but Jamie said that she doesn’t believe in Santa and Nick said that he came downstairs on Christmas Eve and found his parents wrapping gifts under the tree, and in the morning the gifts they were wrapping were the gifts from Santa.”

Me:  “Oh.”

Monkey Girl:  “So, is Santa really the parents?”

Me: “Well, what do you believe?”  (I’m quick, right?  Same response to the same question…not a giveaway at all.)

Monkey Girl:  “Well, I kinda believe in Santa.  I want to believe in Santa.  But, I kinda think it might be the parents.”

Me:  “Oh.”  (Again, so impressive with the responses.)

Monkey Girl:  “So…is Santa the parents?”

Real Man and I looked at each other and realized that she knows.  She doesn’t want to know, but she knows. 

At this point, it becomes an issue of lying to a child who already knows the truth.

Me: (with tears in my eyes) “Yes…Santa is the parents.”

The tears began and Real Man and I snuggled her up between us on our bed and held her and stroked her hair and talked to her for about thirty minutes.

We talked about the magic of Christmas and the spirit of Christmas. 

We talked about how important it is to not ruin the magic of Santa for her brothers or her cousins or her friends.  She swore that she wouldn’t, and we 100% believe her.  A kinder child with a bigger heart you have never met.

She asked where her American Girl doll came from that Santa dropped off at my parents house.  I looked at her and raised my eyebrows and she said, “Ah…Gramma and Grampa.”  Then she smiled.

My heart broke tonight. 

It will break two more times over the next five or six years.

I hold onto the fact that if there is ever a child who embodies the spirit of Christmas, it is Monkey Girl.  Santa or no, this is a child who will continue to believe in magic and will continue to live in a world of wonder.  She will continue to make Santa alive for her little brothers because that is just who she is.  And I think that is what makes me the saddest.  I want him to be real for her.  I want that guy to barge through my front door right now and say “What the heck?  What are you doing telling this girl that I’m not real?  Pinch me!  I’m here!”

But, that’s not going to happen, and she was going to find out eventually.  Better that she finds out in the loving arms of her parents than on the playground.

And, I have to say, the truth of that conviction was brought home by the end of the conversation. 

We talked and talked and talked and at the end of it all, she said to us,

“Thank you for not lying to me.”

She’s asleep now and fell asleep happy and secure in the love of her parents.

Me?

I may cry myself to sleep tonight.

January 5, 2010

Real Long Day

Filed under: Uncategorized — Amy @ 9:03 pm
Tags: , ,

All is quiet and calm at my house right now.

It feels good because it was one heck of a long day.

I started out with an hour and a half drive, with a colleague, to Trenton.

We had day one of a two day session for math teachers and supervisors on the new New Jersey Algebra I end of course exam.

Sounds thrilling to you non-math geeks, I know.

Me…loved it.

Well, loved part of it. 

The other part was…well, it was what most workshops and seminars are.

A teeny, tiny bit boring.

However, we were given some great information that I can bring back and share with my math teachers.  So, it was a good use of the day.

And…I didn’t have to talk, because I was being talked “to,” which was helpful considering the fact that I have laryngitis and feel like horse pucky.  That’s right…I said horse pucky.

So, from 9-3, I was getting my Algebra on.  (I know, I know…I attempted the street slang again…perhaps I should just learn that things like Algebra and street slang don’t go hand in hand…I’ll try to stop, although it may not be the last you’ll hear a little street slang on this blog.)

We drove home, and faced much less traffic, so we were back by 4.  I picked up Baby Monkey and headed home to where Monkey Girl and Monkey in the Middle were busy doing their homework with my Dad.

The rest of the day is an example of why I don’t run around in the morning like a chicken with my head cut off, and is just a little bit of how we organize ourselves in a home with three kids and two parents that work full-time.  Although, really, it would work beautifully in any home!

While the kids finished up their homework at the kitchen table, I emptied their lunchboxes and made and packed their lunches for tomorrow.  They are currently in the fridge, and in the morning, I just pull them out and pop them in backpacks.  I also made my lunch and Real Man’s lunch, which will also just be pulled out and ready to go in the morning.

I checked all of the homework, had the kids put it back in their folders, and put their folders back in their backpacks.  I then went through all of the gajillion papers that had come home in their folders, and oohed and aahed over artwork and tests and classwork.

The kids went to play and I started dinner.  While dinner was cooking, I went to the basement and switched the monkey boys laundry from the washer (where I put it this morning) into the dryer.  Then, I headed back to the kitchen to keep an eye on dinner and to go through the mail.

I never make dinner alone.

Every single night I have a little companion who perches on one of the counter chairs, plays with things that are not toys, like empty Pez dispensers, and regales me with tales of his day.

Although I am not a fan of cooking, it is one of my favorite parts of the day.

When Real Man gets home, we eat, and after dinner Monkey Girl clears the table and sweeps under the table while Real Man helps the boys start getting ready for bed.  I use this time to get dinner for the next day moving along.   Tonight, I set out the crockpot with two cans of cream of mushroom soup on the counter, and put the porkchops in the fridge to defrost.  In the morning, all I have to do is pop the pork chops in the crock, open the cans of soup and toss them in, turn it on and viola!  Dinner will be ready when we get home.  (Okay, I’ll still have to make the rice and beans, but seriously…that’s nothing.)  I start the dishwasher and Monkey Girl goes up and gets ready for bed.  We all pick out clothes for the monkeys for the morning and set it out where they can find it.

Once everyone is in jammies, there is some more playing, and one by one monkeys are read to, sung to, and put to bed.

It’s 7:53 pm as I type this and the monkey boys are sleeping soundly…well, Monkey in the Middle is sleeping soundly.  Baby Monkey is quietly singing to himself.  Monkey Girl is next to me on the bed finishing up her 20 minutes of reading for the night.  Although, I know how it will go.  20 minutes will be up and she’ll beg for 10 more minutes…not to stay up, but because she love, love, loves to read.

Then, she’ll go to bed and Real Man and I will sit and chat about our days, watch some tv and just be together.  I can rest soundly because I know that everything is set for tomorrow and that it won’t be a mad dash out the door.

Every night doesn’t go this smoothly. 

There are certainly nights with bumps in the road or unforseen happenings.

But, for the most part, this is the routine, and it helps us all live a less stressful life, despite our busy schedules, and definitely lets us make the most of our time together as a family.

What are your routines?  How do you stay organized?  Any tips or tricks you could share?

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