A few little rants of my own

1 - So this Zacharia Moussaoui character claims he was supposed to be involved in 9/11 - and people BELIEVE him? Why? He's a nut job. If there's one thing he really, really wants in this world, it's to die a martyr. He couldn't get it done himself, but he finally figured out if he told the right lie we would do it for him. I mean, he seems like a nut job even by Al Queda standards.

And by that I mean - that's a low standard. If you have an organization filled with - okay - nut jobs - there's got to also be a high level of incompetence too. He so falls in that category, even if they didn't really want him. (How bad off do you have to be to not be wanted by an organization which will just have you kill yourself? That's pretty bad.)

So I'm not buying it. Reality, well it's hard to tell where that really is, isn't it, especially when you're dealing with - well, nut jobs - especially fanatical, murderous, self-righteous suicidal nut jobs. I mean, what kind of reality is that, anyway? I'm just saying - I'm not buying his latest martrydom ploy. Hopefully he will screw this one up too.

2. I just saw parts of an episode of House Hunters and all I have to say is - some people have B A D taste.

Here was some mutli-million dollar house, and over the fireplaces there were these large, same-color-as-the-wall, curly, kind of twirly, tre-80s - attachments. That stuck out. The realtor called them "wall art." (ha!) The potential buyer called them "bas relief." In this particular instance, what they really were was ugly. Oh. HIDeous.

And the odd part - the buyer liked them. Thought they were beautiful. Really, really beautiful. Oohing and ahhing. (Was she just being nice for tv? No - good tv would have been her saying, What? Are they KIDDING?)

Luckily, (surprisingly, considering, apparently, her taste) she bought another house. I just was shocked anyone would find those things anything other than - hideous.

3. So the UN is giving Iran 30 days. Perfect. I know they don't work for us, or anything, but...if you're talking UN time - similar to football time or basketball time, only on a longer scale - doesn't that mean the invasion will be this summer? Right before the fall elections here? Perfect. Just perfect.

Not that I think these kinds of things are planned or anything.

technorati tags: Moussaoui, House Hunters, Iran, politics

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Thursday Thirteen SATC Love

Thirteen Things about Krisco Thursday Thirteen 1. I am loving Sex and the City 2. So much so, that I am watching two seasons 3. Carrie with Aiden (2001) 4. and Carrie with The Russian (2004) 5. For the record, Misha Baryshnikov is no longer a famous dancer to me 6. For ever after, he is and always will be Alex Petrovsky 7. It’s just so….him 8. This sounds like this takes a lot of time 9. With Tivo, it takes like 12 minutes an episode 10. Because, of course, there is no sex…I’m watching non-HBO versions 11. Damn! 12. As Ms Sizz said, in an earlier comment too long ago for me to find now – and I paraphrase – I am really just watching Heavy Petting and the City 13. Ha! That is so true. And, sometimes not even that. That comment still cracks me up Links to other Thursday Thirteens! (Add yours below, baby!)

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The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

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Angsting galore

I am totally torn about this job-gig. That's why I haven't been posting; I'm obsessing.

And instead of thinking about what my life might look like in that instance, I am feverishly checking out playschools and day care options and etc etc, worrying about what my little ones' days would look like in that instance.

Which, I guess, makes sense. Because right now they're my main gig - I mean, responsibility - and loves of my whole freaking life - of the small and adorable variety - and so how their days go would pretty much dictate how mine would go.

The coffee meeting - the women I met with were too busy for lunch, hence the need to bring on more people - was only moderately helpful. My (uber-agent) friend brought along a newbie who is closer to the start-up costs and what it takes to get going as a real estate agent.

Of course, her main answer was: time. You know, morning, noon and night and weekends at the office.

In the meantime, in helping a friend moving to Denver, I referred her to my old real estate agent there, who is also a friend of mine. And his (unsolicited) opinion? You can't do it part-time. It is always a full-time gig, or an exercise in frustration.

Well, I guess as both Mary and my cousin who is in fact cool too stated, (both in the comments to the job-related post below said) I could give it a try and see. Which is all my friend is suggesting anyway. Just need to see my way clear to that and not have all this (pre-emptive) guilt about leaving my baby with someone a couple days a week. Oh! She is so cute!

(LBG already has about that much time away from me (and is LOVING it) so I don't have guilt for her. It's the Baby, who still believes we are rightfully joined at the hip, that I worry about...)

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What's for dinner Wednesday?

What's for dinner Wednesday? I have no damn idea.

If I worked in an office, and didn't have guilt about little people eating right, I would be having those nasty fake cheese or year-old peanut butter crackers from the vending machine, that is for damn sure.

As it is, I am obliged. Wait! I just remembered! We thawed some thick pork chops today! THAT is what we are having on Wednesday. Phew. I guess I better add some potatoes, because they're easy (if you remember in time to put them in the oven) and something...else....vegetable-like. There!

Rules:
Put you're having
Anything counts, even what you had on Tuesday

Thanks for playing!!

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They didn't learn this at my house

So. We went to Albuquerque today to go to the New Mexico Natural History museum and show Little Big Girl dinosaur bones.

As we were walking in, Spousal pointed out the two dinosaur statues out front (what would you call large metal replicas of dinosaurs? They're not art.... they're not toys.... I have mommy-brain. We'll go with "statues.") And Little Big Girl correctly identified them - that's a terranasaurus rex! And that's a tryseratops! (sp? I don't know, and I'm not looking it up.)

I know this is not thrilling to anyone with a boy preschooler.

But we have NEVER talked about dinosaurs. This is the extent of our dinosaur conversation, so far:

Me: LBG, let's pick up these toys.
LBG (in dream world): Okay! (in real life): One more minute! I'm playing!
Me (tossing toys in bin): Okay, help me now.
LBG: Okay! First I have to play with my kitchen.
Me (tossing toys in bin): Okay, Now. Seriously. I mean it.
Her: Okay. (starts tossing toys in bin.)
Her (holding up small plastic dinosaur for me to see, the one we found in the yard after we moved in. Seriously. It is our only dinosaur): What is this?
Me: A dinosaur.
Her: Okay. (tosses in bin)

That is IT. The whole sum of our entire conversation about dinosaurs, ever.

I guess kids that age are exposed to a lot of dinosaurs. Clearly she picked up the names and types somewhere *else*.

After we got inside, LBG and her scientific Daddy took off and looked at all the dorky, I mean cool, exhibits together. The huge dinosaur bones, the ones you can feel, the immense dinosaur exhibit. And then on to the gemstones, the planets, the sea life, and the replica of the asteroid destroying the dinosaurs. (A fitting end.)

Baby and I followed along behind and I pointed things out to her.

She liked the beautiful gemstones. She REALLY liked the prism-like light fixture inside the case. (Oooooo!)

She liked the replica of the huge fish in the sea hall. She REALLY liked the way I blew bubbles with my bubble gum. (Oh, the giggles! And the trying to catch the bubble! And the obvious BRILLIANCE that is mom. I amaze her with what she didn't even know I can do!)

And she liked the exhibit of the relative planet sizes. (Ball! she said. And, Ball! And... Ball!) But she REALLY liked taking her shoes off and going up and down the stairs on her own.

So, you know. We all got our own thing out of the visit to the Natural History Museum.

And, on the way home, (may I remind you - it is a two hour drive to Albuquerque! It is a one hour drive to anything from here, and two if the thing is not in Santa Fe! And I use the !! only as irony! Because I can't believe ! that I live in such a remote place!)(But thank God there are foreigners!)(And genuises!)(And if only we could get dialed into the foreigners - having - their - friends - over - for - dinner thing, this place would be sweet!)(And if there were geniuses at the dinner, that would be okay too!)(But I've digressed!) we stopped for dinner at India Palace. Delish! And Spousal's favorite.

Because . . . I forgot to mention. Alright, really, I was saving it up for the punchline. It was Spousal's birthday. Happy birthday, Sweetie. I hope you had fun. We all had fun too.

Technorati tags: Children, Museums, Dinosaurs, Activities

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Cracking the shell

I always feel like the blog only represents some incredibly tiny, not really representative part of me. Ever feel that way?

Take that get-together with the real estate folks. The hardest and actually, probably most interesting part, wasn't the meeting, or the discussion. It was trying to line up childcare for that brief little thing.

Which brings up, on a very sad note and one that deserves a whole post but the topic has been raised now anyway...we went to visit our wonderful friend slash babysitter slash playmate, and we had a great time. Okay, I am avoiding things. She is ill, very ill, and although she seemed just like her same old positive healthy self, the truth is she is going in for more discussions but will likely have surgery and then chemo or radiation....damn. You know what that means. We are so sad about it.

I guess the good news is the little episode at my house - in which I felt guily calling an ambulence at first, knowing part of those aren't paid for by insurance, and then eventually felt okay about it since they ended up admitting her for five days - anyway, the good news is by looking into what was wrong, they found this. So they found things very early. And oddly enough, it's unrelated to her falling ill at my house that day. So, that part is good.

Okay, now I can't go on with the rest of my random thoughts. Let's just all send good, positive, really good thoughts her way. To a healthy whole Jan-Jan soon.

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Working mom v. stay at home - me?

In true Crib Ceiling fashion, I have a true Crib Ceiling debate.*

(I alluded to it earlier in the week; thanks for asking about it Froggiemom!! : )

So here’s the deal.

My real estate broker friend / potential boss called again. (Ah, the lure…)(Insert Arial’s song here). She thinks it just might work part-time after all. Why don’t we try it for the summer? Just give it a try. It’ll be great! It’ll work!**

And tomorrow we have a meeting to flesh out the details.

At some point, I do both need and want to go back to work. I feel fortunate to be home with my little girls right now. Of course, ( and now the other siren…oh wait, that’s more of a wail…) is the fact my little baby is still so young. I was thinking she would be a bit older before I went back, even part-time. But I was willing to go part-time now because I do think this is a great opportunity which, in a small town, may not come along all that often.

So we’ll go to the lunch and I’ll debate and debate at home some more, and continue looking into child care options, none of which seem great here (back to that What Kind Of Choices Do We Really Have Here Folks section), and probably moan a bit more *here. * So that’s the deal. (And thanks again for asking, Renee! : )

*(The Ceiling used to be about the obvious fact that it's not the glass ceiling, it's the whole rest of life which keeps women from ruling the board rooms and what not. And then it morphed into - how much choice do women really have, anyway? Many have to work; those that might want to are often forced out by job requirements, if they want to see their kids at all. Mommy wars, my ass. And then, basically, it became just all about me, and my little life, and what the heck I think about everything. Which….pretty much brings it back to me.)

**Uh, no. I have never done real estate before. Why do you ask? Just've done other things: law; software. I only love real estate and should have been doing it all along (or so I say sight unseen). So it would be a bit of a flyer for me...

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Thursday Thirteen Random Things To Love

Thirteen Things about Krisco


Thirteen Random Things I love

1. My vintage phone on my desk, which my dad gave me from my (maternal) grandparents house. (Because he keeps all such wonderful things. And, knows I love them too..) No, it doesn’t work. But it is so cool. And it sits on my desk just like someone – from the past maybe? – might call me on it. (And here's an exact pic of it!) (And now I know what it's worth...$9!:)

2. My vintage lamp and lamp shade. My mom bought me the Tiffany-like shade and gave me her father’s heavy brass lamp base when I opened my own law office some years ago. That was about the best thing about that office. : ) (Not my real lamp.)

3. My new black faux sheared-lambswool coat. Classic styling, hip material. Perfect weight and warmth. Love, love, love. (It's sort of like this, except...black. And more fitted. And faux lambswool. And...I don't *think* I look pregnant in it...)

4. Purses. I could specify, but, why? All. (Couldn't find pics of my *actual * purses. I would take any of these.)

5. Makeup bags. Again, I could specify or name a type but, all. Need something to give me for Christmas? A makeup bag. Or maybe a purse. (Not my real makeup bags . . . mine are too random to be online.)

6. My engagement ring and wedding band. (Okay, none of these pics are of the actual ones. Here, just the style.)

7. My leather calendar cover. It was a splurge when I bought it some seven or eight years ago, but well worth it now. Everytime I reach in my purse for it’s soft loveliness – I love it!

8. My old green Saab 900. It still sits in the driveway and I never get to drive it. But it was so *me* for … so long. (Like this, except not convertible. And green! And not two-tone. I stink at finding pictures on the internet!)

9. Brown eyeliner. Helps my eyebrows not appear so wimpy. And now that I’m too lazy for mascara, well…. it’s a beauty necessity.

10. My vintage chrome bread box. LOVE IT. (Note the theme?) I bought it at some antique store years ago because it was cool looking – and matched all my other chrome vintage kitchen whatnots (I didn't actually cook - what did I care? I just wanted something cool looking in there) – and for kicks I put bread in it. Turned out it works GREAT. Bread keeps longer, stays more bread-like than in the fridge…it generally rules. Has two shelves. Blah blah, I could go on and on about that thing. (The door opens to reveal a cutting board! Really!.... Etc.)(And this pic is REALLY CLOSE. Only mine is all smooth in front.)

11. The phone book. It’s handy. It doesn’t charge me .50 a number. And it doesn’t return: Number unknown. But for $50 we’ll hunt that person down for you! Click here…

12. Lipstick. Love love love love it. Like my lips feeling *moist *.

13. This sweet little auto-link deal. Loving it! Wasn't I just wondering how to do this just a few short weeks ago? Yes, yes I think I was. Thank you Mr. Linky for solving this problem! Now, YOU all, add your link below! : )



Links to other Thursday Thirteens!




Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!


The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

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What's For Dinner Wednesday!!

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What's For Dinner Wednesday?

I know, I know. The image, please goodness where's the image??!

I don't know. Call Blogger. I uploaded it correctly. TWICE. And still, where is our cute little steaming pot?

I don't know.

What I also don't know is - What's For Dinner Wednesday?

And please, PLEASE someone tell me they are having curly cheese fries or maybe a snickerdoodle (box) or a bag of greasy vending machine nuts.

Okay. If you are having an actual meal, I want to hear that too.

That's right, folks, even without our super-cute graphic, it's What's For Dinner Wednesday!!!!

And I really want to know.

So spit it out. So to speak.

Thanks.
...............
(And feel free to play along on your site, just let us know if you do! Maybe the graphic will work for you...tricky little thing...)

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We close our eyes....and the world has turned around again

Do you ever feel like you have too much to do and not enough time to do it? Not in the little sense – the laundry, the dishes, whatever. We all know that’s a problem. I mean in the big sense. Like my little girl will be four soon, and so just over a year from now, not this fall but the next, she’ll be starting kindergarten. WHAT?!! And she’s not getting prepared yet to go to kindergarten and the preschool she’s in doesn’t do that, and if I need to change her for next fall, registration at all the local schools was last week.

WHAT.

Oh, and somewhere – somewhere – at some time – there may or may not have been a class by the elementary schools about kindergarten preparedness. And if I ever even saw the sign – or am I just thinking maybe I did now? – I didn’t even think about it because my girl is THREE.

I get so focused on the trees I so do not see the forest.

Oh, and - she wants to do gymnastics, she tells me that all the time, but we have her in ballet. And I don’t want to take her out because she’s preparing for a recital. You know - we bought the costume; she has a spot in the show....okay, it's just me. I really want to see her in this thing. And I dread the thought of a hot gym this summer; so how did I not know when I signed her up for ballet in January – I thought I was so on top of it – even though two of the four other girls started in the fall – gack - that what she really wanted to do was gymnastics?

And how is everything getting to be so late already?

I just feel like -- bleheeheheheheheheheh. And eeeeeeeeeek. And ooooooohh shiiiiiiiiiit.

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Storytime Tuesday - The Short Version

So I pull up the other day to a mini-mall – don’t get excited, there’s only two in this whole town, oh, and – that *is* the whole town – and I go to get my kids out of the car.

Per usual, I let Little Big Girl out first, helping her out of the car, and usher her toward the curb, then go around the car to get out the Baby.

I open Baby’s door, undo her car seat straps, and help her down to the street so that she too can join her sister at the sidewalk. And she toddles off.

As I walked around the car to get her, I notice – I *really * have to pee. Like, so bad, if I move the wrong way, we will have a little accident. Make that, a flood – but whatever.*** (My OB warned me about this; you know – that you busy mothers, don’t forget to notice your own needs too….and sometimes, you really do just forget. And then all of a sudden, it’s like, man, has it been a WEEK since I peed? Cuz that’s what it feels like…)

I also notice there is an older couple in the window of the coffee shop/video store that we’re parked in front of looking admiringly at my two adorable children.

As I’m shutting her door, Baby is a l m o s t to the sidewalk. And – she takes a bit of a header. Well, she falls straightforward anyway, hands splayed out, right onto the dirty, really dirty, parking lot surface. Eww.

And I realize – I cannot bend over to help her up. She’s still so little I would have to bend to reach her….and that would be a BIG problem. I’m not even sure I can walk at this point.

So instead I just kind of look at her, pretend to be adjusting the purse, diaper bag and snack bag I’m lugging, and call out encouragements. You can do it, honey! Get on up! That’s a girl! There you go!

And the couple in the window look at me in horror.

Eventually, she rights herself and only then do I join her to take her hand. And hussle both of them into that store Fast to find the potty.

I’m a bad, bad mom.


***Writing about bodily fluids? On the blog? When I started? No freaking way. And now? Whatever. This is a true story about my life. How else could I tell it? At least I’m not as bad as dooce, who, by the way, has an entire Category of posts on Poop. Here's just one.

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This cracked me up

I seriously don't even know what this thing is - who are these people? why did they do this? why does it crack me up so much? - but I couldn't stop watching. So, internet being what it is - here it is for you to wonder about too:

Some crazy possibly northern European guys with too much time on their hands and a good sense of humor


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Added to say: And giving credit where credit is due, I stole it from here: Mothering On the Edge.

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Things I've Seen My Daughter Do That I Know She Got From Me

1 - Stand at the television cabinet and turn the tv on and off with her toe.

2 - Flip through any magazine, anywhere – including the doctor’s office – and pull out all the little paper inserts. In my case I try to toss them into a little pile to throw out later. She just wings them wildly around the room.

3 - Lick her finger and rub it on the envelope.

Her reasoning: she sees me do it. She thinks its normal!

My reasoning: it varies. In item 1 - where's the dang clicker? Also, aren't I often holding a nineteen-ish pound baby? So if you can't find the clicker, do YOU really want to do a deep knew bend holding twenty pounds? Item 2 - those cards drive me nuts. I want to be able to flip through a magazine without random stops caused by random cards. And item 3? I hate the taste of envelope glue. Ditto stamp glue. And I'm now convinced, after using these, that it's bad for me too. But I'm too dang lazy to go get some wet sponge or something from the kitchen.

For me? Perfectly rational.

For her? Only the beginning of the weirdo things she does that she will be able to blame on Mom.

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New Juice Syrup Spot Spottings

Ahead of the sink towards the right, hard right into hall, sharp left into room, on the floor.

How? How is this possible there is cranberry juice syrup from the Cranberry Juice Syrup Explosion of '06 down the hall and to the right and into the room on the left? Surely it seems impossible.

It's like the magic loogy. It travels on its own trajectory outside of the normal space-time-physics continuum that controls the rest of us.

(And now it's gone.)

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Because I Can

The week in highlights – stolen directly from Nelly at Diary of the Nello.

1. I had a cranberry juice bomb blow up all over the house.

I learned this little trick from my high school boyfriend. He was kind of an uptight guy, his mom even more so. At their house, when they were going to make juice from a frozen container, they got it out the day before and put it in the refrigerator.

This as opposed to making juice at my house, which entailed a rummage through the freezer, running hot water over the juice container to try to get it to melt, giving up for awhile and letting it soak in a bowl of hot water, and finally, with the advent of the microwave, nuking it first.

I thought his was a better way to go.

Problem: don’t let it sit too long in the refrigerator. Who can remember to get it out right the day before you need it, or to make it up the very next day? Get real. The organized path is so not me. Really, I need to do the soak-it-in-hot-water deal.

So the other day the girls were clamoring for juice, there was none, so I pulled out the old already-melted version in the frig.

From what day? I …. don’t know.

I do know the thing has bloated up beyond belief. The ends have popped out; the sides look almost round.

This can’t be good, I thought. I mean, literally. This can’t be Good anymore; it must have gone bad.

But out of absolute curiousity and because I don’t know any better, I take it to the sink. And, aiming down, I try to pry the plastic top off.

KABOOM. It was like a cranberry juice cocktail champagne explosion.

The odd thing is, the juice went around the house. I mean, again, literally. There was juice BEHIND me. I don’t know how that happened.

At first I thought I got lucky – did the little planter by the sink block the syrup from hitting our beige carpet? Could I be so lucky?

No, of course not. Also, my favorite print, the one of the Frank Loyd Wright unbuilt skyscraper, with the expensive glass and frame, the one by the sink so I can always see it – splattered. Not to mention the semi-new paint on the wall around it.

Also, obviously, the carpet in front of it. The kitchen flooring to my far left. And, as I’ve mentioned, the flooring in the hall back behind my right. Wha?? I don’t know how, but it was apparently more of a juice syrup tornado.

I’m still finding spots in weird places.

And I hadn’t thought of it before, but – I'll take this as just one more little piece of proof, as if I needed any at this point in my life, that that guy was the wrong one for me.

2. Alright, that one was so long, I won’t bore you with any more. Trust me, there was more. That was just one moment! One three minute (well, the cleaning up took longer) moment of one morning of one week.

Alright, I can’t help myself. The rest this week included: ballet class, preschool, baby playgroup, various phone calls, and a very strong suggestion from my uber-real estate friend that I think about starting work part-time this summer. Gah! Wha?? I thought we were over this decision for now. So...more on that later.

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Thursday Thirteen

Thirteen Things about Krisco Types of places I've lived: 1. Parent's house 2. Dorm room 3. Scummy college apartment. Lobby smelled like stale beer. It was great. 4. Another couple dorm rooms 5. "The Yogurt Shoppe." New apartment in LA; so named by my smartalecky college friends. It did have white exterior walls and pink railings. What can I say, my roommate picked it. 6. White house a block from the beach in Manhattan Beach, LA. Pleasant but too dang out of the city for me. 7. Awesome Spanish house in West LA divided into apartments. I had the frontt one with the patio enclosed by a flower-covered rock wall. It was great. Was there for the riots and the 1920s glass in the front windows shook from the vibration of the troop vehicles pausing on my street. That part was a little scary. The soldiers were young, had large guns, and looked scared. 8. A large house with four professional women in Denver. And a guy in the basement. (See posts below.) 9. Cheesy condo in suburb of suburb. Built in a field, walls crawled with earwigs. Now in the middle of all-development; no more earwigs. 10. Great hundred year old house on a hill in old Denver neighborhood. Fun, cool neighborhood. Got around on my Vespa. What can I say; I loved it. 11. Forced to be a grownup. Moved to condo near fiance's work. Still far from mine. At least it was a "New Urbanism" neighborhood - houses pretending to be 100 year old Victorians! 12. House in Santa Fe. All of the style and none of the charm since it too was a new suburb. (Notice any themes developing?:) 13. Now in Los Alamos. ** Yes, apparently, I've moved a lot. Keep in mind: I'm old. Thanks. Links to other Thursday Thirteens! 1. (leave your link in comments, I’ll add you here!)

Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!


The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

View More Thursday Thirteen Participants

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What's For Dinner Wednesday

You know you want to tell us.

So - What's For Dinner Wednesday?

Yes, yes - Tuesday counts. You can recite what you had YESTERDAY instead. We're flex here.

And if you *have* a recipe, you can put it up on your site. Just let us know!

(And, no, I haven't managed to advance the little meme deal yet. Dang! But you know, um, someday...)

So - excuse the pun - spit it out! What's For Dinner Wednesday?

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Totally unrelated, previous-work flashback

I did something really goofy last night.

I stayed up late, watching a schlocky movie. From 1993. Did I blog? No. Did I read other blogs? Well, yes, of course, for awhile, until the movie totally sucked me in.

(Things in my head I was going to do instead: pick up house, pay bills, sort mail, make plan for tomorrow. Did? Zilch.)

Anyway, I didn’t even see the end of the movie, so if anyone knows how The Temp ends, please tell me.

But I couldn’t stop watching because…because…it was SO like my old workplace.

This is a movie about a temp secretary who ends up becoming a senior executive through tricky and nefarious, and possibly murderous, ways.

Okay, at my company, I don’t think the person I’m talking about – let’s just call her "Bobbi" – actually KILLED anyone.

But she did pretty much everything short of bodily harm. And she didn’t technically start as a temp, not that it would have mattered. She was actually hired.

And she was hired as a secretary, or at our company, an Administrative Assistant. A job which she spent approximately four times the amount of energy and effort arguing, conniving and lying about to avoid than it would have taken to just do. I distinctly remember a co-worker – my peer Jim – we were in the group she was supposed to be the Admin for – warning me away, saying, Don’t give her that copying, don’t ask her to do anything, she won’t do it. It’s not worth it.

(He had already been burned. The portfolios he asked her to prepare for a client presentation she just plain didn’t do. After much arguing and blame-shifting and responsibility-shirking. But in the end, who looks bad in front of the client? My pal Jim.)

At the time, I was like – Wha? So let’s just get rid of her. But it was already too late. She’d been there a week. That’s how fast she worked – on the manipulation/ conniving/ ingratiating side of things. (Obviously, not to us. To those ABOVE us.)

Wait, I totally missed the main point. Well before six months was out, she had her boss two levels up fired, she had taken over his responsibilities, she was hiring and threatening to fire and assigning work, she was signing off on expense accounts, ordering slews of office plants and office furniture from the most expensive place in town (this at a supposed cost-watching software startup), and had the complete ear of the President.

As I was leaving, she was in the process of getting her next uber-superior eliminated as well. A woman who, like the previous boss’s boss, had complete and utter faith and trust in her. The one person they knew was their friend at this company was this woman.

I remember saying good-bye to the Executive VP out in the parking lot, on my last day, as she was getting in her car. (I was moving for Spousal's job.) She was nice; she was competent. She came from big companies with real responsibilities and had an MBA from one of the nation’s top schools. I just wanted to say to her: watch your back. You are getting schnockered by a no-name, no-degreed, master manipulator who you THINK is your mentee. You know this is my last day, but you don’t know your days are almost as numbered. Please, please - just watch your back.

But I didn’t. I knew it would sound crazy. I knew saying: I know this because I know what people OUTSIDE the company are blaming on you, and I know there is only one source for that info; and if that is what she’s saying to people who have left – she is probably just trying the lies out on them, or using them for props and further proof this is “common knowledge” to the President – Gawd knows what she’s saying to him. But it is *something*, and he believes her, and you are doomed.

So I didn’t. But sure enough, not two weeks later, she was fired. And I am sure she was shocked.

And in the other meantime, the master manipulator knew NOTHING about our product. She’s making decisions, ordering marketing material, signing off on the content, and she LITERALLY DOES NOT KNOW WHAT THE PRODUCT DOES.

In her materials, it did all kinds of things it never did. Things our customers didn’t need, but never mind. Also, none of the things it did do – all the things our customers and potential customers were looking for.

As the Product Manager, I was constantly giving product seminars for people in our company. For the new people, for folks from different departments who just wanted to understand what it was we did (and as she got more power, I even offered to go over it with her in person)….and she ALWAYS indicated she would attend. Nothing like a good digital CYA! But of course she never, ever actually showed up in carbon form.

Anyway, watching that movie was such a throw back. They could have patterned the character exactly on "Bobbi". The way she was so nice and seemingly over-competent to some people. And so clearly a lying conniving you-know-what to some others.

Hell. Maybe "Bobbi" saw the movie and picked up her moves. Gawd knows she had to have learned it somewhere.

Well. Thanks for the little vent about things from four years ago. That obviously still AMAZE me when I think about them. The company eventually went under (big surprise), and I sometimes wonder where she is now.

Probably a CEO somewhere.

At a company where she doesn’t have a clue what it does. But the Board of Directors thinks she rocks.

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Them's fightin' words

Little Big Girl has two completely cute habits. One I've mentioned before - she calls everything by it's Exact Proper Full Name. ("That's not a marker, Mommy. That's your Pink Permanent Highlighter!") She's three, almost four, by the way.

The other thing she does is, she loves words and phrases, and when she hears a new one, it's not long before she's using it, in it's appropriate context. It kind of cracks us up, because sometimes it's a word or phrase we didn't even know she knew.

Last night in the bath was a great example. Daddy was giving the bath, and had both girls in there - Little Big Girl and her 18-month old sister Baby. Baby is a bit of a rafscallian. Maybe I should even just call her a ruffian. But in a completely cute way, of course. Spousal said he was busy getting them bathed, you know the routine - hand me that washcloth, please stop splashing your sister, watch the faucet over there, let me get the shampoo in my hand here....etc etc....when all of a sudden, Baby, in a playful mood, launches herself at Little Big Girl. Now, Baby's still just a Baby. So Little Big Girl falls backwards, but not that far into the water. So she's just kind of semi-leaning back in the water and she looks at her sister and she says, with a smile on her face but with the perfect tone: You want a piece of me?!

That just cracks us up.

(And for the record - we had to ask - she heard it on Toy Story. And it is true, there's a point where Buzz Lightyear launches himself at Woody and knocks him down (the little fight under the car, for the afficianandos.) And Woody comes back at him and says, You want a piece of me?!)

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It's the pink....The pink....My eyes....

I have to be honest. I can hardly stand the flowery pinkness of this site anymore.

I KNOW. THAT IS TERRIBLE. MOSTLY because Kelly Nello was so super cool to design this for me to begin with.

And MOSTLY because she is ready and willing and annoyed (that I dally so much) and in the wings READY to change it again.

And I can't pull the trigger.

Because I CANNOT find a graphic.

Actually, there is a graphic. It is the perfect graphic. Here it is:



It's perfect, isn't it? For Crib Ceiling? Two women on the same bench, the obvious life-paths deal, one clearly worried she's on the wrong path, the other - just a little too smug, don't you think? Especially for someone in the park - barefoot? She can't even manage to put her own shoes on anymore?

I so relate to her. Not the smugness. But certainly the forgetting her own shoes. And I always wanted four kids, although I don't think that will be happening. But I used to be the other chick. I saw this for the first time as the other chick, and frankly it kind of scared me.

It was easy to be the gal on the right. Could I ever be the woman on the left? And mostly - why is there no third option?

Anyway, the image really struck me, and I really, really wanted to use it.

Plus I'm such the New Yorker fan. Read every issue for some fifteen years. So - perfect, right?

Apparently, no.

I wrote them a fax. A lovely, charming, surely they will see the benefit of this, fax. Note: yes, for their internet requests, they want a FAX. Put that one together, people. It should have been a hint.

Because this is what the Conde Nast people said: No.

So now I don't know what to do. But I don't think I can take the pink any longer. To me, initially, it was a little ironic. But random passersby may not - um - get it. Eh, who cares about them. Mostly I can't take it anymore.

I found an image of a bubbly '40s gal. Kind of cracks me up. And a b&w of a woman in a vintage '50s knit suit and sweet mules sitting on the floor of a hallway. Random but kind of cool. And a great '30s ish woman in a totally vintage kitchen.

Or - there's the grassy field shot option. Or the open diary and pen.

(Oh, and for the record - you all are right. I am keeping "Crib Ceiling" as a name. It's me now, isn't it? And thanks all for your thoughts earlier.)

But GAAAAAAH. I want my New Yorker cover. Gaaaaah. Bleh.

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Double double dang.

I called my babysitter the other day from the road.

She of the playmate - grandmotherly - it hardly seems like I should call it Babysitting - mornings.

For once, she had something else also going on later this morning - a dentist appointment - and I needed to be home on time.

Sadly, I am not the most prompt person in the world. But if it is my Babysitter.....my Kid's Playmate....my She's The Greatest Thing Ever and the Closest Thing We Have To Family In This Town....well by golly I am going to be home on time.

And then I got to talking to someone about the responsibilities I would have at this upcoming volunteer thing I am doing....and I looked at my watch and it was time to be home. Dang!

Luckily, we live literally three minutes from everything in this town. Let me rephrase that. Everything here is three minutes from anything else. Unless you live way way way out at the end of Barranca Mesa, the farthest mesa out, in which case, everything is fifteen minutes away for you.

So I rudely dash off, hop in my car, call her frantically and say, I'll be home in two minutes, I am so sorry.

And she says, worriedly, K, I think you have to take me to the hospital.

Intake off breath. What's going on? She told me her symptoms, and out of some kind of implied HIPPA and Family Friend Privilege and also because it's probably not cool - or even very nice - to recite them on the Internet for Everyone to see, I won't recite them here. But let's just say, forget me taking her to the hospital. I called 911.

And, sadly, off she went. I was home, of course, before the ambulence came, but just barely. (Remember the three-minute rule.) And I was rounding up socks and shoes and in some cases clothes instead of dress-up clothes, so that we could meet them there. I also managed to get her husband on the phone so that he could get to the hospital too, and cooler heads prevailed (hers, actually), and in the end I didn't take the girls to the ER.

But she's been there ever since (the hospital, not the ER), and they're figuring out what's going on. And the girls have since been to visit her and she's going to be there for a bit. And she's feeling okay, but they still have to look into things.

And this is what she's like. She calls me from the hospital to let me know she won't be able to play with the girls on our usual day.

That's the kind of person she is. *That* kind of caring and thoughtful kind of person she is.

So obviously, for that and about a hundred million other reasons - which don't even include blanket-stitching, last minute sitting, Snow White hairband-creating, preschool pickeruping, coloring, Princess playing, and general Complete Adoration from my kids - we've got a lot of fingers crossed for the old "and it turns out just to be nothing at all" kind of resolution to this particular situation.

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All about Cribs

Here's the deal. I get hits ALL THE TIME from people wanting to learn about cribs.

Sure, sure, this site has pretty much nothing to do with cribs, per se. But hey. I'm a mom of little ones. I did the research. We have cribs in this house. Plus, I'm pretty opinionated.

So I'll give you the scoop right now. Here are your choices and everything you need to know about them:

The Family Heirloom Crib



First, no matter what - DO NOT USE YOUR OLD CRIB. Really. It does not matter that it is cute or has sentimental value or that mom kept it for you in storage for the last twenty-five years and you owe her.

Really, you don't. Safety standards have changed, and there is a reason for that. Babies, before you know it, will stick everything through the slats - you need one that won't let them stick their head through.

Plus, there's the whole lead-based paint thing. Turns out no amount of lead is safe in a baby's system. And trust me, they'll be sucking on that thing.

Just to prove I'm not making this up, here's a government with all the warnings about the slats. And here's one telling you what to watch for (add in your own lead-based paint warning).


I'm sure it's tempting to keep that old thing, because it's cute, and put stuffed animals in it. DON"T DO THAT EITHER. The next thing you know, you won't be there, someone else will be babysitting, and they'll think the old crib is cute and put the baby in there. Without fail, that will be the day she learns to put her head through the slats. Or eats the paint off the side. Just freaking give it back to mom, or better yet, call Goodwill yourself.

(For the record, here's an idea of what you can do with it - cut off at least one side, so no one will be tempted to use it like a crib. Here it is as a cute re-configured day bed:



And I blatantly stole that idea from this website.


The Round Fancy Crib




What can I say. They are cute but impractical. They won't fit any other sheet or blanket in your house. I'm not even sure how long a baby can stay in one of those. It might be kind of like an in-between basinet and crib, meaning - you may still end up needing to buy a crib before your baby hits the toddler-bed stage. And when they do hit that stage, none of the round-crib bedding will fit. On the other hand, if you're considering it, buying new sheets is probably more fun than impractical or time consuming for you, so have at it.

Which brings us to - The Bassinet




It really just depends, doesn't it. Bassinets are great because when the baby is really little, you can have them sleep very near you but not be in bed with you.

And now I'll tell you a secret. According to some kind of parenting survey, which I could find on google when I have more time, most new parents co-sleep. Or, without the lingo, baby's in bed with mom and dad in the first few weeks (or months) anyway. (If you're overweight or smoke or have a water bed, don't do this - you risk suffocating the baby.) But for the others - most people for some reason pretend they don't to their friends (and I don't know why), but they really do.

If you have a baby who moves a lot in their sleep - and you won't know this until they arrive - it's nice to have a bassinet because you will actually be able to sleep during the short period of time that a new baby is actually sleeping and not nursing or taking a bottle at night.

If your baby sleeps quietly - not much kicking or hitting of you - a lot of folks just leave her there. So you might want to wait on the bassinet purchase. But don't wait long, because they only fit in one for a couple months or so. Phew. Those early days go fast.

The Convertible Crib to Toddler Bed.




I don't know. How pragmatic are you? Here's the deal. Are you having more kids? If so, you might want to hold off. Because guess what - Baby Number Two will need the crib before you have a chance to convert it to a toddler bed.

Or, of course, if Baby Number Two is coming before Baby Number One is out of the Crib - and who could know these things ahead of time? - you can keep Baby One in her Crib and then Toddler Bed, and then buy a second convertible deal for Baby Number Two.

They're more expensive. But then you don't have to buy a toddler bed. On the other hand, toddler bed's come in a wide range of prices too.


What's the upshot here, anyway?

Here's the bottom line: wander around Babies R Us, just like the rest of us do. You will find a wide range of prices and a wide range of styles. Try to find one you like that fits in both those ranges.

And if you want even more long-winded advice on crib-buying than you have here, check out this.

And here's a lovely little place to get a bassinet. Mind you, I know nothing about this site; I just thought it looked cute.

Finally, good luck and welcome to a wonderful adventure!!!!

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You can park anywhere if it's snowing

I'm back! Wheeeeee!

I have to say, the getting there was MUCH better than the getting here. Going I defied all rules of traveling with small children on a long road trip. Namely, I left after dinnner. Like, two hours after dinner. For a seven hour road trip!

But it was great. No traffic, no hassles, no stopping. The kids were tired; they watched a couple videos, then slept. None of this Mommy let's stop, I have to go to the bathroom shenanigans.

We did stop about an hour and a half away from our destination - in case I got tired and so we didn't arrive in the middle of the night at our flamily's house (as Little Big Girl says.) Brief little hotel stay, short drive in the AM. Easy breezy trip with small children.

And driving here? Forget about it. There was a snow storm. Big, dumping, snow storm. So I do all the right things and leave mid-day. Which meant stopping every couple hours or so. Which meant a seven hour drive becomes an eleven hour marathon.

Not to mention at the beginning of the trip I reached in my purse for my phone and found it not there. Wha??? I keep two things in the same place all the time - my keys and my phone. I hate losing them or looking for them. So on the one hand I always know where they are. On the other, if they're not there - because how? little hands? confusion of staying at someone else's? little hands? - I am at a loss as to where to look. They are supposed to be RIGHT HERE. If they're not...well they could be anywhere because they are supposed to be RIGHT HERE.

Faced with the reality of a seven-hour plus car trip with two small children and a snow storm and no phone - I did what any rational mother would do. I see a Verizon store off the highway, park illegally on their sidewalk directly in front of the door, hit the hazards, lock the car, and run in.

Me: I'm already a customer, I have two years left on my contract, I'm in the middle of a long road trip, I have two kids in that car (motion to car on sidewalk with lights glaring in to store), and I've lost my phone. If I buy one right now, how long will it take to activate?

Ten minutes, she says.

Hook me up, I say. I slap my credit card on the counter and rush back to the car.

Nine minutes later I go in for my new phone and we are on our way.

Su-weet Verizon! Great job!

I'm so thrilled with myself I call Spousal to tell him all about it.

You didn't want to use that On-Star deal we have in our car? he says. Doh! Forgot all about it! For us, it's not activated. But apparently you can turn it on any old time.

Eh. I'm still happy about the phone. I felt empowered. Plus I liked parking right on their dang sidewalk. (I don't think I could have done that if it wasn't dumping snow...)

Anyway. The woman also told me I can return it if my real one shows up. Which it better because this one turned out to be kind of lame. But I was still so glad to have a phone on that snowy trip.

Phew. Back to the swing of things here now.

And *here* too, hopefully. (Thanks for all the support while I was "out"!! : )

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What's For Dinner Wednesday?

I may be traveling, and our dinner may (okay, *will*) be a Fish Filet and a Happy Meal at a McDonald's on the road somewhere, but that doesn't mean I can't set up a quick What's For Dinner Wednesday!!!

So, What's For Dinner Wednesday?

That's right, out of pure nosiness, I want to know what you're having for dinner! And so does everyone else here! And they may put it up on their site too! And if it's way too early to tell, just tell us What Was For Dinner on Tuesday, that counts too.

And by the way, (BTW:), EVERYTHING counts. I personally can attest to having some of those fake-cheese crackers from the work vending machine, followed by a second entree of greasy packaged nuts, so fear not. I've had roommates who nuked up frozen spinach and ate the whole thing (and you know who you are!), and roommates who ate only microwaved popcorn for dinner.

Of course, if you make an actual meal, that's great too! And if it's either Yummy or Easy or Both, or you are otherwise so inclined anyway, feel free to give us the recipe on your site!! Thanks!

So, What's For Dinner Wednesday?

And thanks for playing!

-----
Oh and a meme update: I've got it registered with one of those meme sites, but now I have to figure out how to add the graphic. So stay tuned! Soon!!

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Yea for Escaping!

Krisco, Krisco, Krisco, where have you gone? You are our Daily Poster, so much so it is almost annoying (see Comments here), and now, what? Nothing?

That's right people, I have gone away! Away for the whole weekend plus! Wheeee! And yes they do have internet access here, but that would entail kicking one or the other parental unit off their (new in the last ten years) favorite device, or else furtively typing after bedtime in a house full of people, as I am doing now.

Yes, I tucked the little girls in the car and drove off for a big adventure of meeting up with the cousins and playing playing playing. Yeaaaa! Hearing the two little ones - Little Big Girl at 3 and her cousin, who we shall call World's Largest Toddler, at 2 - profess their cousinly love for each other: I wuv oo LBG! I love YOU WLT! certainly made it worth it.

So far we have spent hours and hours with cousins, met up with friends, spent time in a Large Outdoor Aesthetically Pleasing Shopping Center (a whole new phenomenon for me of late, living as we do in remote New Mexico, hence my attempt to comprehend it through Precise Descriptions), semi-monitored the kids playing in the rec room, the side yard, the front yard and the kitchen, and attended Mass with said family, at which my kids and hence me were banished to the Cry Room. (And in an ironic twist of fate, the Banisher, Gege, got banished there too! Ha! With one of the other little cousins! I thought it was funny too. (And was quite appreciative of the company.))

So...more later.

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Thursday Thirteen - Favorite Foods

Thirteen Foods I Love from Krisco



1. Sushi. Anytime. Anyplace. Anywhere. I love the soosh.

2. Seared raw tuna with the whole infused potato swirl deal and whatever. Basically Americanized soosh. Most American cuisine-type places. Mmm.

3. Mango Pepper Shrimp, Bang!, Denver. Yummm-my.

4. Denver Bread Company Bread. Available at bakery in Highlands neighborhood. Melts in mouth, unbelievably light texture. Discovered at Bang! actually - the bread served before your meal; realized I really didn’t need the meal. And I’m not much of a bread person. (Hate sandwiches.)

5. Panang Tofu, Sawadee (Thai), Boulder. The best work lunches ever. Include the delish Thai ice tea and you have a winner. Plus the company on those work lunches was hilarious and companionable. And missed.

6. Pad Thai, That Hip Neon-signed Thai Place on Pico in Los Angeles, the ‘90s. (It has a shorter name but who knows what now.) My first and most beloved Pad.

7. All dishes, Himalayas, Boulder. Couldn’t name one but man, they were awesome.

8. French toast, eggs over medium, bacon. OJ. Any U.S. non-chain diner.

9. The Buffet, India House, Santa Fe. Must gets: naan bread, saag paneer, vegetable somosas, vegetable curry, tandoori chicken, navratan korma, lamb tiki somethingerother, rice pudding for desert.

10. Mom’s Traditional Christmas Eve Irish Breakfast.

11. Fish Tacos, Wahoo’s. Available all over! (But not here.)

12. Chipotle chicken burrito, extra rice, extra beans. Available almost all over! (But not here.)

13. Crab wrap, fast food stand, Boston’s Logan Airport, the eighties. I’m sure it was bad for me, but there was something in that crab wrap that made it all worthwhile.





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