So as of December 11th, I have been unemployed (in a full-time status) for one year. And I have learned a few things. I thought I'd write a little something about what I have learned and you can take it or leave it....(keep in mind, I am still without a job). Maybe this is more of "learn what not to do" list than a "to do" list, but you can make up your own mind.
1) Shower every morning, put on some make-up, and put on your pants. And sweatpants/pajama bottoms don't count. Unemployment ranks right up there on the scale of "death of a loved one" when it comes to emotional stress, ask any therapist. As Americans, our identity is so closely linked to our occupation that when we lose our jobs, it's exactly like losing our sense of who we are. And if we aren't careful, "who we are" can easily become a depressed, lost mess. It can be so easy to stay in bed and/or become one with the couch. So by forcing yourself to be clean, forcing yourself to be presentable, and squeezing yourself into your jeans, you are at least "faking" it to yourself that you know who you are: a clean, pretty, presentable person who will find a job. Very soon.
Very important: the whole jeans vs. sweatpants thing. I have gained 30 pounds over the past year. 20 of which have been in the last 2 1/2 months. Not pretty. But it's really hard to notice the waistline expanding when the waistline of your pants expands with it. Plus a kitchen full of Nutty Bars, Swiss Rolls and Doritos calling your name all day doesn't help either.
2) Get out of the house. Take the mornings to apply for unemployment insurance and look for jobs on-line. But if you sit in front of that computer all day, YOU WILL GO CRAZY. I will admit to being addicted to Facebook, because somewhere in my twisted mind I am sure that one day, someone will say, "Hey! You are so great at this Facebook thing, how'd you like a job doing it for $100,000/year."
Plus, I think there is something to be said for "a watched pot never boils." Get out of the house in the afternoons and someone will call you for an interview. Sit there by the phone and no one will.
Volunteer for something. Help out in your child's class. I've been helping out my daughter's kindergarten class on Wednesday afternoons and have learned a ton about how those little minds work. Plus, she loves it and I get an inside scoop on all of the 5-year old drama going on.
Run an errand. I do a lot of grocery shopping (maybe that has something to do with the weight gain....?) because I love that store. There is just something so soothing about the bright calming lights of the HyVee. All of the employees are so friendly. There's free samples at every turn. And who knew that you could get absolutely delicious fried won tons in the Chinese department of a grocery store. Pick an errand to run and get outside.
3.) Don't expect the call. I have applied for on average 5-6 jobs a week and will get 1 call back for every 20-25 jobs I apply for. And that might even be stretching it. No one calls you back any more. And I have a college degree and 20 years experience in the work force. I suppose I am under/over qualified for a lot of the positions that I am applying for, but.....I just need a job. I've read that if you really want the job, you have to call and pester the hiring manager, but I have noticed that a lot of the jobs that I am applying for are faceless. There's no one to call, no one to talk to. Plus, I never really know if I want the job to begin with. I know I want a job, but there's nothing making me fired up to call the company back so that I can work 50 hours a week selling....door hinges.
But they for sure won't call you. At least not as often as you would like and that can bruise the old ego a bit. So don't take it personally. The job market sucks. You just gotta keep plugging away.
4) B.S. Every once in a while you may get an interview and this can be where things get tricky. I have now gotten to do several interviews, and you start to feel like a robot, answering the same questions over and over again. One of my favorites is "Why do you want to sell door hinges?" (Or obviously whatever the company does that you are trying to get the opportunity to do for them.) And then you have to come up with some inspired and passionate-sounding answer to why you just really want a paycheck because you need to pay some bills and feed your children. "Because I like the idea of being able to open the door on a future with your company....(BS, BS, BS...)"
There is a fine line between creative BS and desperation. If you start to feel that your answers to interview questions are like those coming out of a blond beauty pageant contestant's mouth and don't feel like they are your own, you may need to practice your BS-ing. skills. Find a friend and have them interview you. There are also a lot of great mock interview questions on the internet that you can practice with over and over again. The main thing to remember when shoveling out your BS, if you're not sure of the quality, keep things short. Just a whiff, instead of a full-on aromatherapy session will do for your interview.
There's the first four tips. I'll try and share more over the next few days/weeks. But it's time for me to get my pants on and leave the house. Otherwise I could be trapped in my own B.S.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Locked Out
I am the worst mother ever. (And I'm sure all moms will relate to this story and it's accompanying feeling.)
Last night, Grant had his first basketball practice. I remembered to buy him a new ball, but I forgot to get him some new shoes. So there he was slipping and sliding all over the court in his "running around in" shoes that I bought him in September. (I've heard Michael Jordan started out slipping and sliding all over the court in bad shoes.)
So I took him to the store to buy him some new ones and find out that in 3 1/2 months his Size 3 1/2 shoes were waaaay too small. My little man now wears a 5. His feet have grown a full size and a half in just under four months! This kid has been walking around in shoes that are way too small, so now not only do I have to buy him basketball shoes, I also have to buy him "running around in" shoes. (And yes, I do mean my little man. He just started wearing deodorant. Because he needed to. While I'm sure he doesn't want me to share that with the rest of the world, I cannot believe my baby stinks like a man.)
We went to Target, and he picked out a pair of "skater" shoes (on sale only $19.99!!!) and we headed out the door. This morning we woke up and started getting ready for school. Ten minutes before the final bell rang, we were putting the shoes on, and I realized that I have no idea how to tie these shoes. When I was in school, the skaters wore Chuck Taylors and they were easy to tie. These new Millennium "skater" shoes had two sets of laces. Two sets, per shoe. (WTF!!!!-What the French Horn!?) I could not for the life of me figure out how to tie two sets of shoelaces, especially not on a time crunch (now 8 minutes before they need to be at school), so I yelled, swore, and blamed the stupid shoes. I promised them a certain return to Target (with receipt) and made Grant stuff his Size 5's back into his Size 3 1/2's just so we could get to school on time.
I headed out to Target to return the shoes (with receipt) and as I headed back to my minivan, I fished around in my purse looking for my keys and had that sinking feeling.....I locked my keys in the Honda. There they were, plain as day, sitting locked in the van. And I didn't freak out.
Remembering I have no cell phone, I again fished around in the bottom of my purse, feeling my way past lip glosses, pens, a Hot Wheels car and more receipts for some spare change and headed back into the store. I looked up and down the front of the store, by the bathrooms, by the customer service desk and I realized that it is 2010 (almost 2011) and pay phones don't really exist any more and haven't for at least two decades. Again, I didn't freak out.
Right then, my friend Pam walks through the door. Beautiful, beautiful Pam whom I worked with at the radio station. Beautiful Pam, with a cellphone. Quick hug and "How ya doin'" and she lets me borrow her phone. I call my ex-husband (Estranged spouse? Father of my children? Keeper of the extra van key?) and leave a message on his cellphone telling him that I am locked out, and I realize that I don't know if he will get the message at all. Pam and I chit chat for a while. I leave another message on Chris' phone. Pam has got to get back to work and again, I don't freak out.
I started to feel a little bit like that movie with Natalie Portman, where she's pregnant and lives at Walmart. Only, I'm not pregnant, I'm at Target, and I have a debit card. So I buy myself a sandwich and go sit on the bench outside, just in case Chris should show up with the extra key.
I'm sitting outside enjoying the wonderful day. 50 degrees and sunny on a December day in Lincoln, NE. I'm enjoying watching the people go by. A (I hate to be judgmental, but what looks like a scruffy bum) scruffy bum walks by talking on his cellphone. (I am sure by now that I am the last living person without a cellphone.) My friend Meredith drives by and I consider chasing after her, not to see if she can save me or break into my car to rescue my keys, but to tell her Happy Birthday! And then I decide to walk home.
Target is only about 25 blocks or so from my house. I am guessing 4-6 miles. I used to run 3. I could walk for 6 miles. The weather is beautiful. The only place I need to be is at school to pick up the kids at 3:30 and it is only 1 o'clock. So I leave a note for Chris under the windshield wipers and start to walk.
And that was when I realized that I have been truly, truly blessed. The crises that I have suffered over the past two years with my job loss, my marriage failure and the constant challenge of child-rearing. The pain. The depression. The day to day stress and struggle to keep my head above water. What the "bad stuff" truly prepares us for is for moments like this. I locked myself out of my car. Any other time before this, I would have agonized over this. I would have looked at the worst. I would have stressed OUT at being inconvenienced and despaired over my plight.
But today, it was an adventure. Okay, so I locked my keys in my car and don't have a cell phone, now what? Oh, God Bless! Here comes Beautiful Pam! Oh, I'm stranded at Target during lunch time, now what? Oh, God Bless! Target has a delicious turkey flatbread sandwich. I was able to soak in some sun. I could enjoy watching the Christmas shoppers. I had no place I needed to be. And even starting the six mile trudge home, it was 50 degrees outside. I had to take off my scarf because I got warm. God Bless!
We hear all of the time that God does not give us more than we can handle. Of course when we are going through the storm, all of that seems hard to understand. But it is so true. Every challenge only makes us tougher. Every obstacle only makes us smarter, more agile. The challenges in life are God's gift to us. With every challenge in life, we get stronger and He so wants us to be strong. The good thing is He knows how much we can handle. Even when we don't. And he will reward us on our journey. With good friends, a sunny day, and a delicious turkey flat bread sandwich.
Last night, Grant had his first basketball practice. I remembered to buy him a new ball, but I forgot to get him some new shoes. So there he was slipping and sliding all over the court in his "running around in" shoes that I bought him in September. (I've heard Michael Jordan started out slipping and sliding all over the court in bad shoes.)
So I took him to the store to buy him some new ones and find out that in 3 1/2 months his Size 3 1/2 shoes were waaaay too small. My little man now wears a 5. His feet have grown a full size and a half in just under four months! This kid has been walking around in shoes that are way too small, so now not only do I have to buy him basketball shoes, I also have to buy him "running around in" shoes. (And yes, I do mean my little man. He just started wearing deodorant. Because he needed to. While I'm sure he doesn't want me to share that with the rest of the world, I cannot believe my baby stinks like a man.)
We went to Target, and he picked out a pair of "skater" shoes (on sale only $19.99!!!) and we headed out the door. This morning we woke up and started getting ready for school. Ten minutes before the final bell rang, we were putting the shoes on, and I realized that I have no idea how to tie these shoes. When I was in school, the skaters wore Chuck Taylors and they were easy to tie. These new Millennium "skater" shoes had two sets of laces. Two sets, per shoe. (WTF!!!!-What the French Horn!?) I could not for the life of me figure out how to tie two sets of shoelaces, especially not on a time crunch (now 8 minutes before they need to be at school), so I yelled, swore, and blamed the stupid shoes. I promised them a certain return to Target (with receipt) and made Grant stuff his Size 5's back into his Size 3 1/2's just so we could get to school on time.
I headed out to Target to return the shoes (with receipt) and as I headed back to my minivan, I fished around in my purse looking for my keys and had that sinking feeling.....I locked my keys in the Honda. There they were, plain as day, sitting locked in the van. And I didn't freak out.
Remembering I have no cell phone, I again fished around in the bottom of my purse, feeling my way past lip glosses, pens, a Hot Wheels car and more receipts for some spare change and headed back into the store. I looked up and down the front of the store, by the bathrooms, by the customer service desk and I realized that it is 2010 (almost 2011) and pay phones don't really exist any more and haven't for at least two decades. Again, I didn't freak out.
Right then, my friend Pam walks through the door. Beautiful, beautiful Pam whom I worked with at the radio station. Beautiful Pam, with a cellphone. Quick hug and "How ya doin'" and she lets me borrow her phone. I call my ex-husband (Estranged spouse? Father of my children? Keeper of the extra van key?) and leave a message on his cellphone telling him that I am locked out, and I realize that I don't know if he will get the message at all. Pam and I chit chat for a while. I leave another message on Chris' phone. Pam has got to get back to work and again, I don't freak out.
I started to feel a little bit like that movie with Natalie Portman, where she's pregnant and lives at Walmart. Only, I'm not pregnant, I'm at Target, and I have a debit card. So I buy myself a sandwich and go sit on the bench outside, just in case Chris should show up with the extra key.
I'm sitting outside enjoying the wonderful day. 50 degrees and sunny on a December day in Lincoln, NE. I'm enjoying watching the people go by. A (I hate to be judgmental, but what looks like a scruffy bum) scruffy bum walks by talking on his cellphone. (I am sure by now that I am the last living person without a cellphone.) My friend Meredith drives by and I consider chasing after her, not to see if she can save me or break into my car to rescue my keys, but to tell her Happy Birthday! And then I decide to walk home.
Target is only about 25 blocks or so from my house. I am guessing 4-6 miles. I used to run 3. I could walk for 6 miles. The weather is beautiful. The only place I need to be is at school to pick up the kids at 3:30 and it is only 1 o'clock. So I leave a note for Chris under the windshield wipers and start to walk.
And that was when I realized that I have been truly, truly blessed. The crises that I have suffered over the past two years with my job loss, my marriage failure and the constant challenge of child-rearing. The pain. The depression. The day to day stress and struggle to keep my head above water. What the "bad stuff" truly prepares us for is for moments like this. I locked myself out of my car. Any other time before this, I would have agonized over this. I would have looked at the worst. I would have stressed OUT at being inconvenienced and despaired over my plight.
But today, it was an adventure. Okay, so I locked my keys in my car and don't have a cell phone, now what? Oh, God Bless! Here comes Beautiful Pam! Oh, I'm stranded at Target during lunch time, now what? Oh, God Bless! Target has a delicious turkey flatbread sandwich. I was able to soak in some sun. I could enjoy watching the Christmas shoppers. I had no place I needed to be. And even starting the six mile trudge home, it was 50 degrees outside. I had to take off my scarf because I got warm. God Bless!
We hear all of the time that God does not give us more than we can handle. Of course when we are going through the storm, all of that seems hard to understand. But it is so true. Every challenge only makes us tougher. Every obstacle only makes us smarter, more agile. The challenges in life are God's gift to us. With every challenge in life, we get stronger and He so wants us to be strong. The good thing is He knows how much we can handle. Even when we don't. And he will reward us on our journey. With good friends, a sunny day, and a delicious turkey flat bread sandwich.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Thanksgiving
The storm was coming with lots of snow and blowing snow and drifting snow, so Chris decided to take the kids up to Fargo for Thanksgiving weekend Tuesday night. My dad was worried that I would be lonely all weekend. My mom was worried that I would be alone on a holiday. I was thrilled that I could have five days to clean the house and do whatever the heck I wanted to do whenever I wanted to do it. It was like I was 18 again and off to college. Except this time, what I wanted to do was clean. (I know. Shocking!)
If you are a parent of a child under 10 (I am also guessing that this type of thing happens if you are a parent at all, regardless of how old your child is). you know how tough it can be to keep your house clean. You clean a room and the kids are in the rest of the house completely destroying it. And then they come into your brand spankin' new clean room and completely trash that. So you could live in a house that is moderately messy, or clean and have the place look like a lego/moonsand/littlest pet shop tornado came through.
I also have this dog issue. Two of them. I mean I have two dogs with a lot of issues. Mostly where and when and how much they relieve themselves. They are both girl dogs and both have a need to "one-up" each other. Lacey started things by....sprinkling upstairs in our tv room. This is the room in the house with the tv, a fireplace, really the coziest, comfiest place in the whole house. And she peed in there. Well, Rosie couldn't stand that, so she peed on top of it. And so on, and so on, and so on..... I've bought special stuff from the pet store that is supposed to cover up the smell so that they are not tempted to re-offend. Doesn't work. Called my friend the professional carpet guy. Cleaned the stain, but the girls are still at it. I wound up putting the baby gate back up, so they can't even get to the room. Until Wednesday night, when I was up there trying to clean and I left the gate open for 2 seconds to get the vacuum....one of them sneeked a leak.
And now today is Sunday. The kids are on their way home and I only have 1 and a half rooms clean. What did I do with all my free time......
That is what I am thankful for. I have had a pretty rough year. If you have been reading/following my blogs you know already. Job loss, divorce, shoe loss, broken toes, dogs messes (read above). But I have the most fantastic friends EVER. There is one family of friends that basically adopted me this weekend. They invited me over for Thanksgiving dinner, they invited me over to a big bonfire Friday night after the Husker game, and they make me laugh non-stop. My next door neighbors, The Welcomers, also invited me over for a Thanksgiving meal (yeah, I ate like a rock star that day) and we've been borrowing/lending movies back and forth all weekend. My friends Katie and Natalie and DeAnna all stopped over this weekend to chit chat, play with makeup, and Katie loaned me her vacuum when mine went kaput.
These are just a few of my friends and this is just one weekend. I've had a lot of friends step up and offer me a hand or a shoulder over this past year, and this is my opportunity to say Thanks. I don't say it enough, and can't show you enough, but the support I have had from my neighbors, my fellow Mary Kay ladies, my high school and college friends, my former co-workers and their family members, and my siblings is unbelievable. And it means more to me than I can say.
People can say this world is in trouble all they like. That people don't care anymore. But I have proof that they do. Just look at my friends. Happy Thanksgiving!
If you are a parent of a child under 10 (I am also guessing that this type of thing happens if you are a parent at all, regardless of how old your child is). you know how tough it can be to keep your house clean. You clean a room and the kids are in the rest of the house completely destroying it. And then they come into your brand spankin' new clean room and completely trash that. So you could live in a house that is moderately messy, or clean and have the place look like a lego/moonsand/littlest pet shop tornado came through.
I also have this dog issue. Two of them. I mean I have two dogs with a lot of issues. Mostly where and when and how much they relieve themselves. They are both girl dogs and both have a need to "one-up" each other. Lacey started things by....sprinkling upstairs in our tv room. This is the room in the house with the tv, a fireplace, really the coziest, comfiest place in the whole house. And she peed in there. Well, Rosie couldn't stand that, so she peed on top of it. And so on, and so on, and so on..... I've bought special stuff from the pet store that is supposed to cover up the smell so that they are not tempted to re-offend. Doesn't work. Called my friend the professional carpet guy. Cleaned the stain, but the girls are still at it. I wound up putting the baby gate back up, so they can't even get to the room. Until Wednesday night, when I was up there trying to clean and I left the gate open for 2 seconds to get the vacuum....one of them sneeked a leak.
And now today is Sunday. The kids are on their way home and I only have 1 and a half rooms clean. What did I do with all my free time......
That is what I am thankful for. I have had a pretty rough year. If you have been reading/following my blogs you know already. Job loss, divorce, shoe loss, broken toes, dogs messes (read above). But I have the most fantastic friends EVER. There is one family of friends that basically adopted me this weekend. They invited me over for Thanksgiving dinner, they invited me over to a big bonfire Friday night after the Husker game, and they make me laugh non-stop. My next door neighbors, The Welcomers, also invited me over for a Thanksgiving meal (yeah, I ate like a rock star that day) and we've been borrowing/lending movies back and forth all weekend. My friends Katie and Natalie and DeAnna all stopped over this weekend to chit chat, play with makeup, and Katie loaned me her vacuum when mine went kaput.
These are just a few of my friends and this is just one weekend. I've had a lot of friends step up and offer me a hand or a shoulder over this past year, and this is my opportunity to say Thanks. I don't say it enough, and can't show you enough, but the support I have had from my neighbors, my fellow Mary Kay ladies, my high school and college friends, my former co-workers and their family members, and my siblings is unbelievable. And it means more to me than I can say.
People can say this world is in trouble all they like. That people don't care anymore. But I have proof that they do. Just look at my friends. Happy Thanksgiving!
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
The F-Word
I have a love/hate relationship with swearing. I don't like hearing swear words around kids and yet I have been known to throw out a well-varied string of foul language while in unexpected pain. My mother goes to church every Sunday but can swear like a sailor while watching high school basketball. (So funny, people around her at the games, noticing how intently she would follow the action, would always ask, "Which player is your son?" And she would say, "None of them, my daughter is the cheerleader.") I actually prefer to listen to edited songs so that I don't hear bad language in my favorite toons, but I know a well-placed swear word can add extra heft when you need to get a point across.
Of course, I don't like it when kids swear. Sure it's funny when a little baby mistakenly says something else when asking for a firetruck. Who doesn't laugh when a toddler runs around with a pirate ship calling it something else? That is funny because it is not on purpose and accidents are funny.
I've always thought that the real reason people swear (and I try to teach my kids this) is because they aren't intelligent enough to come up with a different word. The English language is full of lots and lots of different words that we can use to mean the same thing. We just have to get creative.
Like Spencer. He has been swearing like a truck driver. Without swearing. Just this afternoon, after his brother snatched his gigantic bag of rainbow popcorn out of his hand (leftover birthday treat), just as he was settling in to play another marathon session of Mario, Spencer yells, "Hey! You are such an F-word idiot!!!!"
He didn't specify which f-word. He said literally "you are such an f-word idiot." The f-word could have been...funny, frugal, fantastic, frumpy, flatulent (ooh, that would be a good one), fat, fraternal....you get my point. So, by not swearing, he was using his creative talents to insult his brother in an ambiguous way.
Ambiguous insults. Could be the wave of the future. Could be the answer to world peace. Could be an awesome band name.
Of course, I don't like it when kids swear. Sure it's funny when a little baby mistakenly says something else when asking for a firetruck. Who doesn't laugh when a toddler runs around with a pirate ship calling it something else? That is funny because it is not on purpose and accidents are funny.
I've always thought that the real reason people swear (and I try to teach my kids this) is because they aren't intelligent enough to come up with a different word. The English language is full of lots and lots of different words that we can use to mean the same thing. We just have to get creative.
Like Spencer. He has been swearing like a truck driver. Without swearing. Just this afternoon, after his brother snatched his gigantic bag of rainbow popcorn out of his hand (leftover birthday treat), just as he was settling in to play another marathon session of Mario, Spencer yells, "Hey! You are such an F-word idiot!!!!"
He didn't specify which f-word. He said literally "you are such an f-word idiot." The f-word could have been...funny, frugal, fantastic, frumpy, flatulent (ooh, that would be a good one), fat, fraternal....you get my point. So, by not swearing, he was using his creative talents to insult his brother in an ambiguous way.
Ambiguous insults. Could be the wave of the future. Could be the answer to world peace. Could be an awesome band name.
Monday, November 15, 2010
Search Button
I don't have a cellphone. I have a land line. I know I'm old school, but I really prefer it this way. We tried having just cellphones when we moved into this house, but I could never find the stupid thing when I needed to make a call. It was usually hidden under a couch cushion, or under the coffee table, or in the laundry basket or someplace weird. And if the ringer was off, fugeddaboutit.
We have three phones connected to our landline. One "corded, really old school, attached to the wall" phone-which will never, ever, ever in a gazillion years get lost. And two cordless phones with a really cool feature, when you press a button on the base of the chargers, the lost phones will beep until you find them. So if you need to call your sister, or follow up on a job interview or call the doctor, you just press the Search Button, and beep, beep, beep, you've found your handset!
I just wish someone could install this feature on everything else in my life that I seem to misplace. Mia had a Thanksgiving project for school that involved 3 components: We were supposed to decorate a paper turkey, print out a picture of our family, and bring in a can of food for a Thanksgiving Food Drive for their school.
The paper turkey was just a picture of a cartoon turkey that we, as a family, were supposed to decorate as a togetherness project. We just never seem to have time together. Mia started to decorate it by herself. Grant pitched in by doing some "improvements." Spencer was glued to his video game. I always seem to have to clean something or pick something up or run an errand or look for something, that I never have time to "collaborate." It needed to be handed in on Friday, which I found out about Friday morning, 5 minutes before we left the house. It wasn't on the kitchen table. It wasn't on the homework table, which has turned into a Lego table. And it wasn't in Mia's backpack. I need a Search Button!
I wanted to print out a picture of our family, but couldn't decide which picture to print out. A picture with the kids and mom. A picture with the kids and dad. Just the kids. I'm not even sure if there is a picture of us all together, but now with the separation/divorce I'm not sure what the definition is of our family anymore. I need a Search Button!
The whole school is doing a Thanksgiving Food Drive for unprivileged families in our community. The goal is to get each kid to donate a can of food for the less fortunate. At the school my children attend, 45% of the kids qualify for the free/reduced lunch program. I think that we might qualify. But I'm too afraid to check. I am a smart and talented person. I have a college degree. I work hard and take great pride in what I can accomplish. I cannot qualify for the free/reduced lunch program. I give to charity. I don't accept it. All I need is a job, not charity. An opportunity to show what I can do. I know that I can make some company a lot of money. I have a billion ideas (a few of them good!) floating around in my head.
A job. A chance. I need a Search Button.
We have three phones connected to our landline. One "corded, really old school, attached to the wall" phone-which will never, ever, ever in a gazillion years get lost. And two cordless phones with a really cool feature, when you press a button on the base of the chargers, the lost phones will beep until you find them. So if you need to call your sister, or follow up on a job interview or call the doctor, you just press the Search Button, and beep, beep, beep, you've found your handset!
I just wish someone could install this feature on everything else in my life that I seem to misplace. Mia had a Thanksgiving project for school that involved 3 components: We were supposed to decorate a paper turkey, print out a picture of our family, and bring in a can of food for a Thanksgiving Food Drive for their school.
The paper turkey was just a picture of a cartoon turkey that we, as a family, were supposed to decorate as a togetherness project. We just never seem to have time together. Mia started to decorate it by herself. Grant pitched in by doing some "improvements." Spencer was glued to his video game. I always seem to have to clean something or pick something up or run an errand or look for something, that I never have time to "collaborate." It needed to be handed in on Friday, which I found out about Friday morning, 5 minutes before we left the house. It wasn't on the kitchen table. It wasn't on the homework table, which has turned into a Lego table. And it wasn't in Mia's backpack. I need a Search Button!
I wanted to print out a picture of our family, but couldn't decide which picture to print out. A picture with the kids and mom. A picture with the kids and dad. Just the kids. I'm not even sure if there is a picture of us all together, but now with the separation/divorce I'm not sure what the definition is of our family anymore. I need a Search Button!
The whole school is doing a Thanksgiving Food Drive for unprivileged families in our community. The goal is to get each kid to donate a can of food for the less fortunate. At the school my children attend, 45% of the kids qualify for the free/reduced lunch program. I think that we might qualify. But I'm too afraid to check. I am a smart and talented person. I have a college degree. I work hard and take great pride in what I can accomplish. I cannot qualify for the free/reduced lunch program. I give to charity. I don't accept it. All I need is a job, not charity. An opportunity to show what I can do. I know that I can make some company a lot of money. I have a billion ideas (a few of them good!) floating around in my head.
A job. A chance. I need a Search Button.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Envy and Cheezits
So I went back to the well this weekend. Or the cave. Or where ever it is that you go when life's got you down and you need the love and support of those who love and support you. And I also realized that it sucks to be around happy people. Unless they are kids.
I have three adorable, yet challenging kids. My sister Krissy has the same. We've been pregnant simultaneously twice and have two sets of children that are only a month apart. If you can only imagine 6 kids and two dogs (mine at home soiling the carpets and leaving fabulous "Why'd ya go?" presents for me) running all over an enormous, happy house in Elmhurst, IL.
My sister is amazing. She's a size 2. She's gorgeous. Doesn't look a day over 26 (Actually she does, but she's the kind of woman that looks better in her 30's than she did at 21.) She has a huge house, a happy marriage, lots of money, kids who behave and dogs who don't bark at the mailman or pee on the carpet. Perfection. Oh, yeah and she is a great and giving person.
Which makes it hard to be me right now. Because I feel completely the opposite of that. I feel gray and small (and fat) and lumpy and bitter and shriveled and sad and pathetic. Next to her fabulousness, I'm just...bleh. And she'll read this and tell me, "No! You're awesome!" and give me a pep talk and offer to paint the world for me, all I'd have to do is name the color. Because that is the kind of person she is. Awesome. And I'm not. Not right now.
It's not envy exactly. I love my sister and wish her only happiness and the thought of myself being envious of her life is not true at all. I'm envious of everyone that is happy right now. People who have jobs that they can complain about. People who can buy things knowing that they will have paychecks coming in the next few months. People who can text on their cell phones. People who can decorate their houses for Halloween. People who can go to movies. People who can get their children haircuts without putting them on the charge card. People who can plan for Christmas. People who can sign up their kids for anything without wondering about the pricetag and whether or not you can afford it. People who can buy their kids a second pair of shoes. People who don't have to worry about someone they love lying to them over and over again. Envy.
So that is why I chose to focus on our children this weekend. Something about their exploits, innocent and new. I could sit and watch them envy-free. I could just enjoy their sweet spirits and their innocence. (Plus the wise sage Luke-who is my eldest nephew and who's brilliant mind who I cannot wait to see bloom, insisted that I write about them.)
Highlights of the weekend include:
1) Grant and his cousin Alec (both 9) coming upstairs from the play room with matching bloody noses. (?????) Both of them.
"What were you guys doing?" I query.
"Oh, nothing. We were just playing a game." Alec quips. Neither one was crying. No whining. No crying. Just bloody noses. And Grant looking a little green.
I could remember some crazy games of Twister growing up. Or maybe playing Barbies. Or an intense game of Monopoly with my brother. But nothing that would involve two bloody noses.
"Oh, in that case...." I handed them some tissues and sent them on their way.
2) If anyone can throw a party, it is my sister Krissy. She had the music pumping for the kids. Pepperoni pizza on these funky skull and cross bone plates. And she served sparkling apple cider in fun Halloween glasses. So festive!!!! I looked over at Mia (my 5-year old) and she looked horrified.
"What's the matter sweetie?" I ask.
"I don't want to drink....beer!" she cried. The look on her face was priceless. I plan on holding that one in my mind when she's 16 dresssed in a white tank top and miniskirt and out with some Nebraska corn-fed boys looking for the street dance. At least I know she doesn't like beer!
I assured her it was just apple cider. She took a tentative sip and loved it! (You better believe I am buying a shotgun with the first paycheck of any job I might get.)
3.) The kids were sitting at the table, playing with the new toys that Aunt Krissy had bought for them earlier in the day. When sweet little blue-eyed, blond-haired 5-year old Jack asks me, "So....when did'ya get a divorce?"
That one threw me. I've had conversations with my own kids. And conversations with grown-ups. With well thought-out and scripted reasons of why my marriage fell apart. But when a kindergartener just throws it out there in the middle of a "happy" day.....I just didn't know what to say. So I went in the pantry and cried. In the middle of single serving packets of chocolate chip cookies and Cheezits, I cried.
And then I realized, I am having a breakdown surrounded by Capri Suns and Enteneman's donuts. Small bags of fish crackers and pretzels. 5 oz bottles of water and granola bars. It was a little weird. Things in small packages. Little things to grab when you need that small something to get you to the next stage.
I have decided that even if my envy seems like it can consume me, even if the happy grown-ups are more than I can handle, I need to remember to look at my little somethings. (And the adorable little somethings around me.) Innocence. Purity. Easy nibble-ability. All in convienent self-serve packages.
I have three adorable, yet challenging kids. My sister Krissy has the same. We've been pregnant simultaneously twice and have two sets of children that are only a month apart. If you can only imagine 6 kids and two dogs (mine at home soiling the carpets and leaving fabulous "Why'd ya go?" presents for me) running all over an enormous, happy house in Elmhurst, IL.
My sister is amazing. She's a size 2. She's gorgeous. Doesn't look a day over 26 (Actually she does, but she's the kind of woman that looks better in her 30's than she did at 21.) She has a huge house, a happy marriage, lots of money, kids who behave and dogs who don't bark at the mailman or pee on the carpet. Perfection. Oh, yeah and she is a great and giving person.
Which makes it hard to be me right now. Because I feel completely the opposite of that. I feel gray and small (and fat) and lumpy and bitter and shriveled and sad and pathetic. Next to her fabulousness, I'm just...bleh. And she'll read this and tell me, "No! You're awesome!" and give me a pep talk and offer to paint the world for me, all I'd have to do is name the color. Because that is the kind of person she is. Awesome. And I'm not. Not right now.
It's not envy exactly. I love my sister and wish her only happiness and the thought of myself being envious of her life is not true at all. I'm envious of everyone that is happy right now. People who have jobs that they can complain about. People who can buy things knowing that they will have paychecks coming in the next few months. People who can text on their cell phones. People who can decorate their houses for Halloween. People who can go to movies. People who can get their children haircuts without putting them on the charge card. People who can plan for Christmas. People who can sign up their kids for anything without wondering about the pricetag and whether or not you can afford it. People who can buy their kids a second pair of shoes. People who don't have to worry about someone they love lying to them over and over again. Envy.
So that is why I chose to focus on our children this weekend. Something about their exploits, innocent and new. I could sit and watch them envy-free. I could just enjoy their sweet spirits and their innocence. (Plus the wise sage Luke-who is my eldest nephew and who's brilliant mind who I cannot wait to see bloom, insisted that I write about them.)
Highlights of the weekend include:
1) Grant and his cousin Alec (both 9) coming upstairs from the play room with matching bloody noses. (?????) Both of them.
"What were you guys doing?" I query.
"Oh, nothing. We were just playing a game." Alec quips. Neither one was crying. No whining. No crying. Just bloody noses. And Grant looking a little green.
I could remember some crazy games of Twister growing up. Or maybe playing Barbies. Or an intense game of Monopoly with my brother. But nothing that would involve two bloody noses.
"Oh, in that case...." I handed them some tissues and sent them on their way.
2) If anyone can throw a party, it is my sister Krissy. She had the music pumping for the kids. Pepperoni pizza on these funky skull and cross bone plates. And she served sparkling apple cider in fun Halloween glasses. So festive!!!! I looked over at Mia (my 5-year old) and she looked horrified.
"What's the matter sweetie?" I ask.
"I don't want to drink....beer!" she cried. The look on her face was priceless. I plan on holding that one in my mind when she's 16 dresssed in a white tank top and miniskirt and out with some Nebraska corn-fed boys looking for the street dance. At least I know she doesn't like beer!
I assured her it was just apple cider. She took a tentative sip and loved it! (You better believe I am buying a shotgun with the first paycheck of any job I might get.)
3.) The kids were sitting at the table, playing with the new toys that Aunt Krissy had bought for them earlier in the day. When sweet little blue-eyed, blond-haired 5-year old Jack asks me, "So....when did'ya get a divorce?"
That one threw me. I've had conversations with my own kids. And conversations with grown-ups. With well thought-out and scripted reasons of why my marriage fell apart. But when a kindergartener just throws it out there in the middle of a "happy" day.....I just didn't know what to say. So I went in the pantry and cried. In the middle of single serving packets of chocolate chip cookies and Cheezits, I cried.
And then I realized, I am having a breakdown surrounded by Capri Suns and Enteneman's donuts. Small bags of fish crackers and pretzels. 5 oz bottles of water and granola bars. It was a little weird. Things in small packages. Little things to grab when you need that small something to get you to the next stage.
I have decided that even if my envy seems like it can consume me, even if the happy grown-ups are more than I can handle, I need to remember to look at my little somethings. (And the adorable little somethings around me.) Innocence. Purity. Easy nibble-ability. All in convienent
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Bumpers
The other day I got rear-ended. On 84th Street on my way to HyVee to buy some groceries. There were a bunch of people turning into Kohl's for some reason and the traffic was backed up and I had to stop and the guy behind me wasn't paying as much attention as I was. Bam!
I get out. He gets out. My rear bumper is already pretty messed up from the day I drove the minivan off the Honda lot. I got rear-ended that day within 5 minutes of driving off the lot. No kidding. But all she left was the imprint of the screws on her license plate. This guy left the imprint of the screws of his license plate and a little extra small dent just for good measure.
I look at the damage. The guy was young, but not too young. Maybe 5 years younger than I am. His car was some average white sedan made most likely in the late '90's. He worked hard for the little money he had and it showed. I am unemployed. I am a single mom. I have no money and very soon could go into some serious debt. A little ding on my back bumper is really no big deal. To drag police officers and lawsuits and tickets and deductibles seemed like a serious waste of negative energy. So I sent him on his way. And he was happy.
Saturday was the Husker game vs. Texas. Chris had the kids in the afternoon, so I thought it would be fun to join my friends watching the game at a bar in downtown Lincoln. If you've never captured the frenzied fan atmosphere of Game Day in Husker Nation, you are surely missing out. Thousands of people, not only descend upon Memorial Stadium to cheer the Big Red on, but thousands of ticketless souls also (myself included) love to just drink in the spirit (pun intended) and revel in the sport of fandom.
I didn't get downtown until 2 and the game started at 2:30, so officially, I couldn't even find a parking spot "downtown." It was a little more like....down, dowtown. Not in the safest neighborhood in Lincoln. But there I saw it.....a spot just big enough to fit the Honda! If I just nestled it in so carefully.....backing up just a little bit to get it in just right......easy, easy....and I just gently kissed the car in front of me. I was being as careful as I could be. There was a guy on his cellphone on the other side of the road and two scary looking ladies (using the term the kindest spirit) smoking cigarettes outside of their rundown apartment. I admit, I was bumper to bumper with the car ahead of me, but I was grateful to have found a spot at all with all the craziness of Game Day action.
And then there was the game. (Ouch) Head hanging low, I head back to my car. It was dark. I was a little scared. I had my keys in hand, just in case some psycho wanted to steal my purse with the 4 different shades of lipgloss I have inside. Most of the traffic had gone by this point. I think that most people just wanted to go home and stick their heads in cartons of ice cream. (Yes, the loss was that bad.) And then I saw the note.
"You parked into my car and damaged the back bumper. Your plate info was taken along with pictures. Expect to hear from my lawyer."
Really? Really? First of all, I remember back in the day, the entire purpose of bumpers was to allow for a little bumping and scraping from time to time. That was why they were called "bumpers." Second of all, if you are this un-used to "creative parking" at Husker games, you should take the shuttle in. And third of all, what lawyer has access to running license plate numbers? And why would you pay that lawyer the $85 an hour to fix a $25 scratch on your bumper?
But really what struck me is how irate someone had gotten over something so stupid. Would this guy have gotten so mad if I had been there? If he had gotten to see my "disheveled-unemployed-I-need-help" face? It's a car!!!! When did we get so possessive of our "things?" I didn't hurt him or any of his family members. I maybe (and just maybe) scratched the bumper of his car a little bit. Something he worked hard for, sure, but again, just a "thing." It wasn't like I plowed into him. I nestled my car up next to his. Going maybe .5 miles/hour. It's a "thing!" If I had caused any damage (or even thought I had), I would have popped a note on his car. (Remember, there were witnesses.) Again, it is just a thing.
One day, we'll all be going somewhere where posessions don't matter. What kind of cellphone we had. What kind of shoes we wore. What kind of car we drove and whether or not it had a teeny tiny scratch on the back end bumper. What is most important is how we treat other people, how we spread kindness and love and how we forgive even those whose names we don't know: people who trespass against us (and drive Honda Odyssey mini-vans.)
I get out. He gets out. My rear bumper is already pretty messed up from the day I drove the minivan off the Honda lot. I got rear-ended that day within 5 minutes of driving off the lot. No kidding. But all she left was the imprint of the screws on her license plate. This guy left the imprint of the screws of his license plate and a little extra small dent just for good measure.
I look at the damage. The guy was young, but not too young. Maybe 5 years younger than I am. His car was some average white sedan made most likely in the late '90's. He worked hard for the little money he had and it showed. I am unemployed. I am a single mom. I have no money and very soon could go into some serious debt. A little ding on my back bumper is really no big deal. To drag police officers and lawsuits and tickets and deductibles seemed like a serious waste of negative energy. So I sent him on his way. And he was happy.
Saturday was the Husker game vs. Texas. Chris had the kids in the afternoon, so I thought it would be fun to join my friends watching the game at a bar in downtown Lincoln. If you've never captured the frenzied fan atmosphere of Game Day in Husker Nation, you are surely missing out. Thousands of people, not only descend upon Memorial Stadium to cheer the Big Red on, but thousands of ticketless souls also (myself included) love to just drink in the spirit (pun intended) and revel in the sport of fandom.
I didn't get downtown until 2 and the game started at 2:30, so officially, I couldn't even find a parking spot "downtown." It was a little more like....down, dowtown. Not in the safest neighborhood in Lincoln. But there I saw it.....a spot just big enough to fit the Honda! If I just nestled it in so carefully.....backing up just a little bit to get it in just right......easy, easy....and I just gently kissed the car in front of me. I was being as careful as I could be. There was a guy on his cellphone on the other side of the road and two scary looking ladies (using the term the kindest spirit) smoking cigarettes outside of their rundown apartment. I admit, I was bumper to bumper with the car ahead of me, but I was grateful to have found a spot at all with all the craziness of Game Day action.
And then there was the game. (Ouch) Head hanging low, I head back to my car. It was dark. I was a little scared. I had my keys in hand, just in case some psycho wanted to steal my purse with the 4 different shades of lipgloss I have inside. Most of the traffic had gone by this point. I think that most people just wanted to go home and stick their heads in cartons of ice cream. (Yes, the loss was that bad.) And then I saw the note.
"You parked into my car and damaged the back bumper. Your plate info was taken along with pictures. Expect to hear from my lawyer."
Really? Really? First of all, I remember back in the day, the entire purpose of bumpers was to allow for a little bumping and scraping from time to time. That was why they were called "bumpers." Second of all, if you are this un-used to "creative parking" at Husker games, you should take the shuttle in. And third of all, what lawyer has access to running license plate numbers? And why would you pay that lawyer the $85 an hour to fix a $25 scratch on your bumper?
But really what struck me is how irate someone had gotten over something so stupid. Would this guy have gotten so mad if I had been there? If he had gotten to see my "disheveled-unemployed-I-need-help" face? It's a car!!!! When did we get so possessive of our "things?" I didn't hurt him or any of his family members. I maybe (and just maybe) scratched the bumper of his car a little bit. Something he worked hard for, sure, but again, just a "thing." It wasn't like I plowed into him. I nestled my car up next to his. Going maybe .5 miles/hour. It's a "thing!" If I had caused any damage (or even thought I had), I would have popped a note on his car. (Remember, there were witnesses.) Again, it is just a thing.
One day, we'll all be going somewhere where posessions don't matter. What kind of cellphone we had. What kind of shoes we wore. What kind of car we drove and whether or not it had a teeny tiny scratch on the back end bumper. What is most important is how we treat other people, how we spread kindness and love and how we forgive even those whose names we don't know: people who trespass against us (and drive Honda Odyssey mini-vans.)
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