(This post sponsored partially by Schmitt Söhne Riesling, so please forgive the lack of a specific theme, or perhaps any direction whatsoever. Good stuff, that.)
The verdict on the car: minor oil leak, easily handled by my keeping the oil tank full in the future. (And, presumably, keeping cardboard on my garage floor, lest I be tempted to christen my car Exxon Valdez.) It seems a bit odd that keeping the tank full will cause it not to leak, but it's not too often that mechanics want to NOT fix my car, so I'm going to go with it.
Another float in the Inconvenience Parade: someone at my house, whose name is not Anithe, misplaced a DVD that belonged to the library. (It HAS to be in our house somewhere; the home inspection did not uncover any portals to other dimensions. Unfortunately, I haven't located it yet.) In order to keep making our weekly visits to the library, I had to pay for it, and there was some confusion as to whether I might be able to get a refund once I locate the DVD. A polite email was sent, and a refund shall be mine if I do manage to locate Scooby-Doo Meets Batman. (Of all the DVDs I might have had the opportunity to reimburse the library for, that is NOT the one I would have picked.)
Action Hero's first birthday is in exactly one week, and we shall be having a party in exactly one week and two days. In honor of the occasion, I gave the kitchen floor a good sweeping, even moving the stove and sweeping under the refrigerator, and found all of our missing alphabet magnets, Jimmy Hoffa, and the Holy Grail. (I did not, however, find any DVDs.)
Boy Wonder is currently going through a two-bite snacking phase: asking for something to eat, taking two bites of it, and saying, "Can I be all done now? I'm not hungry anymore." And then, five minutes later, saying, "I'm hungry. Can I have a banola (sic) bar?"
Action Hero can climb stairs, at least the five on our back porch. Oh, and the lower three on our interior staircase.
Note to Boy Wonder's future girlfriends: keep it casual, ladies. This afternoon, Boy Wonder looked up as I walked into the room and said, "Wow, Mommy. You look beautiful!" What had I done? Changed into an old T-shirt and swept my hair into two messy pigtails.
Speaking of sweeping (again), as I was on the phone with the nice lady from the library, I heard Boy Wonder laughing hysterically in the kitchen, and Action Hero enthusiastically whapping his booster-chair tray. After my conversation concluded, I entered the kitchen...and was greeted by a floor covered in corn kernels and buttered macaroni noodles. After some questioning, it was revealed that the one who was responsible was the one who should really have known better.
I am really glad that Rocky was voted off of Survivor tonight, since he spent much of last week's episode wearing his rear end as a hat. Personalities like his are the reason that "reality" TV is not usually my first viewing choice.
I also spent some time on the phone with the nice unemployment lady, who called to make sure that my acceptance of a freelance writing assignment (yay!) would not conflict with my search for a full-time job. I assured her that a full-time, first-shift job was still much desired, thank you.
Speaking of jobs, I should be finding out tomorrow whether or not I will be offered one. To my references: you know who you are. Has anyone called you?
Goodnight, Gracie!
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Here in my car...oh, wait
"Mommy? Is this our new car?"
"No, honey. It's Nanny's car, remember? We went to her house yesterday and put your car seats in this car, and then we took Mommy's car to the car-fixing place."
"Oh. Yeah." (pause) "Why do we have to borrow Nanny's car ALL THE TIME?"
My car, it has no sense of timing. In the middle of winter, it started stalling alarmingly at intersections, and was taken to Trusted Family Mechanic, who diagnosed it with a failing transmission. Of COURSE my car needs expensive repairs while I'm unemployed. (It also needed an oil leak fixed, but on the Car Repair Expense scale, that's a $ compared to a transmission's $$$$.) I had a brief panic about what I would drive while my car's transmission and oil leak were being repaired, but then my mother reminded me that my grandmother does not drive anymore and would no doubt lend me her car while mine was in the shop. So we borrowed Nanny's car for a week or so, and Boy Wonder seemed to enjoy it. So did I; power locks are rather easy to get used to, and are quite handy when transporting multiple children and assorted diaper, grocery, and discount store bags. It even has a trunk release inside the car, which my car for some reason does not have.
Last week, I realized that there was once again oil all over the garage floor, and made arrangements to re-borrow my grandmother's car. Then, just to shake things up, my car had a flat tire on Friday. As flat tires go, it was well-timed and conveniently located (after the job interview, before I picked up the kids, and right in front of a Starbucks), but it still meant that I had to spend Saturday getting the tire taken care of, instead of being able to drop off my entire car. With the assistance of my father, who feels strongly about helping his womenfolk out with car issues (Mom never has to fill her own gas tank), the entire car made it into the shop yesterday. And I am once again enjoying the power locks on Nanny's car, although apparently Boy Wonder is not. (Action Hero seems to enjoy it; for some reason, this car inspires him to babble extensively.)
"No, honey. It's Nanny's car, remember? We went to her house yesterday and put your car seats in this car, and then we took Mommy's car to the car-fixing place."
"Oh. Yeah." (pause) "Why do we have to borrow Nanny's car ALL THE TIME?"
My car, it has no sense of timing. In the middle of winter, it started stalling alarmingly at intersections, and was taken to Trusted Family Mechanic, who diagnosed it with a failing transmission. Of COURSE my car needs expensive repairs while I'm unemployed. (It also needed an oil leak fixed, but on the Car Repair Expense scale, that's a $ compared to a transmission's $$$$.) I had a brief panic about what I would drive while my car's transmission and oil leak were being repaired, but then my mother reminded me that my grandmother does not drive anymore and would no doubt lend me her car while mine was in the shop. So we borrowed Nanny's car for a week or so, and Boy Wonder seemed to enjoy it. So did I; power locks are rather easy to get used to, and are quite handy when transporting multiple children and assorted diaper, grocery, and discount store bags. It even has a trunk release inside the car, which my car for some reason does not have.
Last week, I realized that there was once again oil all over the garage floor, and made arrangements to re-borrow my grandmother's car. Then, just to shake things up, my car had a flat tire on Friday. As flat tires go, it was well-timed and conveniently located (after the job interview, before I picked up the kids, and right in front of a Starbucks), but it still meant that I had to spend Saturday getting the tire taken care of, instead of being able to drop off my entire car. With the assistance of my father, who feels strongly about helping his womenfolk out with car issues (Mom never has to fill her own gas tank), the entire car made it into the shop yesterday. And I am once again enjoying the power locks on Nanny's car, although apparently Boy Wonder is not. (Action Hero seems to enjoy it; for some reason, this car inspires him to babble extensively.)
Sunday, March 25, 2007
Correspondence course
Dear neighbor across the street,
It's just so...so...BIG! No, really, it's huge. That is one impressive TV you've got there, and you should be quite proud to have it. Now please close your drapes, because I can see your big TV even when my living-room blinds are closed. If I wanted to watch football games and Casino Royale with you, I'd nurture a social acquaintance and wait to be invited.
Cordially,
Anithe
Dear Automated Bill Collection Service,
This is no longer Dennis E.'s phone number. Please stop the thrice-weekly calls. I am mightily sick of having to press 9 and stay on hold forever until a live service rep picks up, apologizes profusely, and promises to clear my phone number from the database.
Irritatedly,
Anithe
Dear Dennis E.,
Being in debt is difficult, I know. Good luck with getting your bills paid. And get your phone number updated in everyone's database too.
Encouragingly,
Anithe
Dear Boy Wonder and Action Hero,
Naps are not a sign of weakness, and they really help to cut down on late-afternoon crankiness. Try to take them once in a while, 'kay?
Lovingly,
Mommy
Dear self,
Before using the large skillet for cooking, remember to wash it well; Action Hero was playing with pots and pans yesterday, and did a little dance in it wearing his outside shoes. (Not that you'll be likely to forget that, since it was awfully cute.)
Amusedly,
Anithe
It's just so...so...BIG! No, really, it's huge. That is one impressive TV you've got there, and you should be quite proud to have it. Now please close your drapes, because I can see your big TV even when my living-room blinds are closed. If I wanted to watch football games and Casino Royale with you, I'd nurture a social acquaintance and wait to be invited.
Cordially,
Anithe
Dear Automated Bill Collection Service,
This is no longer Dennis E.'s phone number. Please stop the thrice-weekly calls. I am mightily sick of having to press 9 and stay on hold forever until a live service rep picks up, apologizes profusely, and promises to clear my phone number from the database.
Irritatedly,
Anithe
Dear Dennis E.,
Being in debt is difficult, I know. Good luck with getting your bills paid. And get your phone number updated in everyone's database too.
Encouragingly,
Anithe
Dear Boy Wonder and Action Hero,
Naps are not a sign of weakness, and they really help to cut down on late-afternoon crankiness. Try to take them once in a while, 'kay?
Lovingly,
Mommy
Dear self,
Before using the large skillet for cooking, remember to wash it well; Action Hero was playing with pots and pans yesterday, and did a little dance in it wearing his outside shoes. (Not that you'll be likely to forget that, since it was awfully cute.)
Amusedly,
Anithe
Friday, March 23, 2007
Once upon a dream
Last night, I dyed my hair electric blue.
Fortunately, it was only a dream. Weird one, too. I had been invited to visit the very impressive estate of a young woman, and I'd been provided with clothing and a fresh hairstyle besides. I found this very exciting, until I realized that my clothing and hairstyle were exact duplicates of hers, and I knew that this meant she would kill me and pretend that my body was hers, enabling her to disappear and take on a new identity somewhere. (This is apparently what I get for watching Bones and a lot of L & O: SVU reruns before bedtime.) So I quickly ran out to the salon and got a makeover and some electric blue hair dye, and the day was saved. And then, in the dream, I said, "Oh, no! I have a job interview tomorrow! I can't go to it with electric blue hair!"
Except for the part about the hair, that last bit is accurate. In a surprising turn of events, last Friday's interviewer ACTUALLY MEANT IT when she said, "I'm sure I'll be calling you back for a second interview sometime next week!" Appendages crossed, everyone: we need some more gainful employment at my house, pronto!
Fortunately, it was only a dream. Weird one, too. I had been invited to visit the very impressive estate of a young woman, and I'd been provided with clothing and a fresh hairstyle besides. I found this very exciting, until I realized that my clothing and hairstyle were exact duplicates of hers, and I knew that this meant she would kill me and pretend that my body was hers, enabling her to disappear and take on a new identity somewhere. (This is apparently what I get for watching Bones and a lot of L & O: SVU reruns before bedtime.) So I quickly ran out to the salon and got a makeover and some electric blue hair dye, and the day was saved. And then, in the dream, I said, "Oh, no! I have a job interview tomorrow! I can't go to it with electric blue hair!"
Except for the part about the hair, that last bit is accurate. In a surprising turn of events, last Friday's interviewer ACTUALLY MEANT IT when she said, "I'm sure I'll be calling you back for a second interview sometime next week!" Appendages crossed, everyone: we need some more gainful employment at my house, pronto!
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Boy Bruiser
Since Boy Wonder is bent on treating our living room as a Survivor-style obstacle course (and may I just say that he would probably make a great Survivor contestant? He loves the water, will happily sleep on the floor, and would probably have no problem communicating with the other contestants, since a good portion of them seem to act like three-year-olds), he sometimes injures himself. Not badly, and not frequently, but he'll get bumps and bruises.
Generally not twice in one week, though. He currently has a large blue bruise on his forehead, from goofing off near the futon the other day, and a swollen lower lip, which he somehow bumped and bit whilst goofing off on the coffee table today (as I shouted from the kitchen, "Boy Wonder, get off the coffee table! Now! I mean...oh, dear. Honey, your lip is bleeding. Come here."). People who see us in passing must think I am a horrible parent.
Generally not twice in one week, though. He currently has a large blue bruise on his forehead, from goofing off near the futon the other day, and a swollen lower lip, which he somehow bumped and bit whilst goofing off on the coffee table today (as I shouted from the kitchen, "Boy Wonder, get off the coffee table! Now! I mean...oh, dear. Honey, your lip is bleeding. Come here."). People who see us in passing must think I am a horrible parent.
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
From the mind of Boy Wonder
Some selections of what Boy Wonder’s three-year-old mind has come up with recently, followed by explanations—because not everyone lives in my head.
“Grandma, how is your purple Elmo?” (My mother slipped on some ice a couple of weeks ago, bruising her elBOW quite colorfully.)
“Do ogres have big butts?” (This question, along with others along similar lines— “Do all dragons have fire come out their mouths? Why does that monster have two heads? Are there red monsters here?”—inspired by World of Warcraft, which Boy Wonder has taken an interest in watching Dragon play lately. Check back in a few years for Boy Wonder’s new hit single, “Ogre Got Back.” )
“Mommy? I have a sister!” (One would think that one curious baby brother would be enough for any three-year-old, but Boy Wonder seems determined to acquire extra siblings. First, he announced that Other Boy Wonder, a daycare companion who shares his first name, was his brother; now, he has decided that he has a sister. His new “sister,” the daughter of one of my friends, is six; she and her mom came to visit a couple of weeks ago, and I guess Boy Wonder really enjoyed their visit. Fortunately, they’re coming over again on Saturday.)
Other recent topics of conversation have included birthday cakes (he changes his mind every other day, but now seems pretty set on having a Scooby-Doo cake for his birthday, and says that Action Hero would also like a Scooby-Doo birthday cake, because babies don’t like Elmo), days of the week (“Today is Monday! And tomorrow is Friday, so I can go to Grandma’s!”), and seasons (“It is sunny out, so I do not need to wear a jacket! It is summer now!”). Ah, the life of a three-year old: skipping effortlessly from Monday to Friday, thinking that sunshine always goes hand-in-hand with warmth, and having the year's biggest decision be, "What cartoon character should grace my birthday cake this year?"
“Grandma, how is your purple Elmo?” (My mother slipped on some ice a couple of weeks ago, bruising her elBOW quite colorfully.)
“Do ogres have big butts?” (This question, along with others along similar lines— “Do all dragons have fire come out their mouths? Why does that monster have two heads? Are there red monsters here?”—inspired by World of Warcraft, which Boy Wonder has taken an interest in watching Dragon play lately. Check back in a few years for Boy Wonder’s new hit single, “Ogre Got Back.” )
“Mommy? I have a sister!” (One would think that one curious baby brother would be enough for any three-year-old, but Boy Wonder seems determined to acquire extra siblings. First, he announced that Other Boy Wonder, a daycare companion who shares his first name, was his brother; now, he has decided that he has a sister. His new “sister,” the daughter of one of my friends, is six; she and her mom came to visit a couple of weeks ago, and I guess Boy Wonder really enjoyed their visit. Fortunately, they’re coming over again on Saturday.)
Other recent topics of conversation have included birthday cakes (he changes his mind every other day, but now seems pretty set on having a Scooby-Doo cake for his birthday, and says that Action Hero would also like a Scooby-Doo birthday cake, because babies don’t like Elmo), days of the week (“Today is Monday! And tomorrow is Friday, so I can go to Grandma’s!”), and seasons (“It is sunny out, so I do not need to wear a jacket! It is summer now!”). Ah, the life of a three-year old: skipping effortlessly from Monday to Friday, thinking that sunshine always goes hand-in-hand with warmth, and having the year's biggest decision be, "What cartoon character should grace my birthday cake this year?"
Monday, March 19, 2007
It's raining clothes, hallelujah
Yesterday, my cousin called. Actually, I think he may be my second cousin, once removed. Or maybe my third cousin...or maybe just my second cousin? (Our mothers are first cousins, so if anyone can tell me how that works, that'd be lovely. Thanks.) At any rate, we're related, and get the chance to cross paths on holidays sometimes. Also, he and his wife have two little boys, aged seven and five, who recently outgrew a bunch of clothing. And another relative said, "Hey, you know, Anithe has two boys! You should ask her if they need clothes!"
Getting free clothes is one of the benefits of parenthood you just don't think about until it happens. Sometimes, it happens unexpectedly, and is badly timed; on a few occasions during Boy Wonder's infancy, I'd stock up on clothing and then go into work the next day and be greeted with, "Hey, how are you? Oh, I'm Lucille, from the sales department. Nice to meet you. So, I've got six Xtra-large bags of Georgie Junior's outgrown clothes in my trunk, and someone said you have a baby boy..." On the other hand, I very rarely turn down free stuff, and free clothing is never badly timed; kids, particularly infants, require frequent costume changes, and doing laundry less frequently is always nice.
Yesterday, though, the timing was grand. I seem to be washing pants for Boy Wonder every other day, and most of those are looking pretty short, at that. But it's almost summer here, so I don't want to buy him too many more pairs of pants...but they'll wear out if I keep washing them...but the only ones that look long enough anymore are the black ones...etc. So I was thrilled to hear that loads of clothing were mine for the asking, and even more thrilled when two super-sized bags were transferred from my cousin's car trunk to mine. And even MORE more thrilled when we got the bags home and opened them, because they contained at least sixteen pairs of pants, most of which look like they will fit Boy Wonder quite nicely. Jeans! Khakis! Sweats! Warm-up pants with stripes down the sides! Along with roughly a metric ton of T-shirts, both short- and long-sleeved, a fine selection of fleecy sweatshirts, and at least a dozen pairs of pajamas, most of them fleecy feetie pajamas with DINOSAURS. As a bonus, we also acquired ssorted mittens, hats, and some extra snowpants that will come in handy next winter. There are even some items that are too small for Boy Wonder but will be just right for Action Hero in a few months.
Boy Wonder is pleased with the haul, too. He helped me open the bags yesterday, anxiously waited for me to wash some of the clothes, and went through three outfits today. ("Oh no, Mommy! You got a drop of water on my pants! I need to go get new pants! Can I wear my new jeans?") Hopefully, he will not wake up several times during the night and ask to change pajamas.
Getting free clothes is one of the benefits of parenthood you just don't think about until it happens. Sometimes, it happens unexpectedly, and is badly timed; on a few occasions during Boy Wonder's infancy, I'd stock up on clothing and then go into work the next day and be greeted with, "Hey, how are you? Oh, I'm Lucille, from the sales department. Nice to meet you. So, I've got six Xtra-large bags of Georgie Junior's outgrown clothes in my trunk, and someone said you have a baby boy..." On the other hand, I very rarely turn down free stuff, and free clothing is never badly timed; kids, particularly infants, require frequent costume changes, and doing laundry less frequently is always nice.
Yesterday, though, the timing was grand. I seem to be washing pants for Boy Wonder every other day, and most of those are looking pretty short, at that. But it's almost summer here, so I don't want to buy him too many more pairs of pants...but they'll wear out if I keep washing them...but the only ones that look long enough anymore are the black ones...etc. So I was thrilled to hear that loads of clothing were mine for the asking, and even more thrilled when two super-sized bags were transferred from my cousin's car trunk to mine. And even MORE more thrilled when we got the bags home and opened them, because they contained at least sixteen pairs of pants, most of which look like they will fit Boy Wonder quite nicely. Jeans! Khakis! Sweats! Warm-up pants with stripes down the sides! Along with roughly a metric ton of T-shirts, both short- and long-sleeved, a fine selection of fleecy sweatshirts, and at least a dozen pairs of pajamas, most of them fleecy feetie pajamas with DINOSAURS. As a bonus, we also acquired ssorted mittens, hats, and some extra snowpants that will come in handy next winter. There are even some items that are too small for Boy Wonder but will be just right for Action Hero in a few months.
Boy Wonder is pleased with the haul, too. He helped me open the bags yesterday, anxiously waited for me to wash some of the clothes, and went through three outfits today. ("Oh no, Mommy! You got a drop of water on my pants! I need to go get new pants! Can I wear my new jeans?") Hopefully, he will not wake up several times during the night and ask to change pajamas.
He ain't dusty, he's my brother
I will never know exactly what goes on in my kids' heads, but sometimes I'd really like to.
"Okay, Boy Wonder, help me pick up some toys! I need to vacuum the living room."
"Mommy, can you get Action Hero out of here?"
"Um, why? He's not afraid of the vacuum cleaner anymore."
"So you don't vacuum him up."
I don't know whether to be touched at his protectiveness of his baby brother, or wildly offended at his assumption that, if not watched carefully, I would VACUUM UP THE BABY. Good grief.
"Okay, Boy Wonder, help me pick up some toys! I need to vacuum the living room."
"Mommy, can you get Action Hero out of here?"
"Um, why? He's not afraid of the vacuum cleaner anymore."
"So you don't vacuum him up."
I don't know whether to be touched at his protectiveness of his baby brother, or wildly offended at his assumption that, if not watched carefully, I would VACUUM UP THE BABY. Good grief.
Friday, March 16, 2007
Job search bulletin
I was recently tallying up the number of interviews I've had since becoming unemployed, and the results are in: that would be five, ladies and gentlemen! (I am not counting the one where the interviewer began the interview by saying, "So, you can work from 11AM until 8PM, right?" Um, no. Y'all should really mention that in your ad.)
The fifth interview took place today: just about an hour ago, in fact. Good things about today's interview: the job sounds excellent, and the department sounds like a fun group of people. The interviewer mentioned several times that she was really enjoying talking with me, and that it seemed like I have a fabulous skill set. She started to ask, "And how's your attendance record been?" and then said, "Well, really. You showed up early today, and you certainly don't look like someone who has attendance issues." Well hey, I like The Black Suit too. This sounds great, right? Well, sure it does. However. Bad things about today's interview: THAT'S WHAT THEY ALL SAY. No, really. All of my previous interviewers said that they were really enjoying talking with me. One of them even said that she could see me fitting in with their team quite easily. And all of my "Sorry, we're going to move on to other candidates" comments have been along the lines of, "We really liked you, and you have many admirable qualities. But."
I never realized that being sociable and pleasant could actually work against me. Not directly, of course, but please enjoy this latest bout of self-examination right along with me. Now, I can see why people enjoy talking with me. I have a pleasant speaking voice and a calm manner. I'm courteous yet friendly. I can adjust my communication style, going from brusque and no-nonsense to warm and empathetic in the time it takes many people to say, "Gosh, you want to know what my goals are? Well, let's see..." (I started out as a drama major.) I smile frequently, make the appropriate amount of eye contact, and apply (gentle, inoffensive) humor if the occasion calls for it. I think my personality would be a great fit for a lot of offices, really.
Of course, companies don't hire for personality alone. And that's as it should be. Just because I can interact pleasantly with just about anybody doesn't mean that I'm the most qualified candidate for the job. It is, however, discouraging to keep hearing, "You know, I'm really enjoying this meeting here. I think you'd be a wonderful fit with our team of engineers/editorial staff/front office group/battalion of Spartan soldiers!" and waiting to hear back about that vaunted second interview...and then waiting, and waiting, and waiting some more. And then getting the "Though we really enjoyed meeting with you and feel that you have fine experience/a wonderful resume/enthusiastic references/admirable qualities/lovely, expressive green eyes, we will be moving forward with other candidates" letter (or email).
So, hurrah for my pleasant, sociable personality and tidy appearance; at least they're complimenting the skills I do have, and I know that I'm not being turned down because of a lousy resume, bad references, or unpleasant body odor. And hurrah, too, for my adaptability, sense of humor, and ability to hit the ground running, because those are awfully useful traits to have when the "Thanks but no thanks" letters come.
The fifth interview took place today: just about an hour ago, in fact. Good things about today's interview: the job sounds excellent, and the department sounds like a fun group of people. The interviewer mentioned several times that she was really enjoying talking with me, and that it seemed like I have a fabulous skill set. She started to ask, "And how's your attendance record been?" and then said, "Well, really. You showed up early today, and you certainly don't look like someone who has attendance issues." Well hey, I like The Black Suit too. This sounds great, right? Well, sure it does. However. Bad things about today's interview: THAT'S WHAT THEY ALL SAY. No, really. All of my previous interviewers said that they were really enjoying talking with me. One of them even said that she could see me fitting in with their team quite easily. And all of my "Sorry, we're going to move on to other candidates" comments have been along the lines of, "We really liked you, and you have many admirable qualities. But."
I never realized that being sociable and pleasant could actually work against me. Not directly, of course, but please enjoy this latest bout of self-examination right along with me. Now, I can see why people enjoy talking with me. I have a pleasant speaking voice and a calm manner. I'm courteous yet friendly. I can adjust my communication style, going from brusque and no-nonsense to warm and empathetic in the time it takes many people to say, "Gosh, you want to know what my goals are? Well, let's see..." (I started out as a drama major.) I smile frequently, make the appropriate amount of eye contact, and apply (gentle, inoffensive) humor if the occasion calls for it. I think my personality would be a great fit for a lot of offices, really.
Of course, companies don't hire for personality alone. And that's as it should be. Just because I can interact pleasantly with just about anybody doesn't mean that I'm the most qualified candidate for the job. It is, however, discouraging to keep hearing, "You know, I'm really enjoying this meeting here. I think you'd be a wonderful fit with our team of engineers/editorial staff/front office group/battalion of Spartan soldiers!" and waiting to hear back about that vaunted second interview...and then waiting, and waiting, and waiting some more. And then getting the "Though we really enjoyed meeting with you and feel that you have fine experience/a wonderful resume/enthusiastic references/admirable qualities/lovely, expressive green eyes, we will be moving forward with other candidates" letter (or email).
So, hurrah for my pleasant, sociable personality and tidy appearance; at least they're complimenting the skills I do have, and I know that I'm not being turned down because of a lousy resume, bad references, or unpleasant body odor. And hurrah, too, for my adaptability, sense of humor, and ability to hit the ground running, because those are awfully useful traits to have when the "Thanks but no thanks" letters come.
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
World views
"Mommy? Mommy? I drew you a picture! This is your world!"
"Mommy? And this is your office!"
(I've looked at the above image carefully, to see if Boy Wonder is actually a remote viewer, or having premonitions, but it doesn't seem to resemble any company logos.)
"Mommy? And this is your office!"
(I've looked at the above image carefully, to see if Boy Wonder is actually a remote viewer, or having premonitions, but it doesn't seem to resemble any company logos.)
Kitchen table whimsy
Posts detailing Boy Wonder's verbal abilities coming soon. Until then, please enjoy photographic evidence of a moment of giddy whimsy I experienced one day during breakfast preparation. A few minutes after I took this photo, Boy Wonder came into the kitchen and demanded his own "clown hat." He was provided with a coffee filter, which he wore with flair.
Friday, March 09, 2007
Action (Hero) - adventure stories
Action Hero has had quite an eventful month, which I've been meaning to blog about for a while now. Without further ado, here is what he's been up to lately.
Celebrating "R" Virus Awareness Month:
First, he got rotavirus, which was heralded by a day and a half of progressively stinkier diapers and an even more impressive vomiting episode. (I'd just finished nursing him, and he'd nearly drifted off to sleep but woke up when the Scooby-Doo theme started playing. I took him into our computer room and said to Dragon, "Darn, he was almost sleeping just now! I don't think he's feeling good, though." Action Hero agreed with me immediately, coughing and then drenching my front with everything he'd eaten that day. And I do mean "everything." I have never had the meaning of the term "blow chunks" made so clear to me.) After a week or so, his stomach (and diapers) finally returned to normal. At which point he suddenly developed a roaring fever that lasted for three days and did not accompany any other symptoms. It broke on a Monday, and he seemed better, but on Tuesday I got The Call from daycare; he had a rash. Then things became clear: textbook case of roseola. We are hoping to avoid rubella and other viruses that begin with "r." Instead, he now has hives, and has had some blood drawn to be tested for food allergies.
Increased playing action:
For a while now, Action Hero has enjoyed picking up objects and marching around the house with them. Recently, this has taken on another element: now, he picks up an item, holds it out toward you as though he's going to bring it to you, and then turns around and runs (no, seriously, it is pretty close to actual running) away giggling. Then, you must chase him, saying "Baby has a box/car/Elmo/cell phone/CD! I must have that box/car/Elmo/cell phone/CD!" as he continues to run around and giggle.
Action Hero phone home (sort of):
He likes to hold my cell phone. It is small, silver, and shiny, so I imagine it is quite alluring to him. And I always wondered what he would do if it chanced to ring while he was holding it. This thought floated through my head as I talked with my mother on the (regular) phone earlier this week, and I vocalized it. She said, "Oh, I'll have your dad get my cell phone and call your cell phone!" When it rang, he looked at it with mild surprise and then turned to me, held out the phone, and began grinning like anything and bouncing up and down. Rather like, "LOOK WHAT I DID I MADE THE PHONE RING!!!!!!!" Gosh, he was pleased with himself.
Baby of bravery:
I can't imagine why I forgot to blog about this months ago, but our pediatrician requests a blood draw at the nine-month appointment. Lab techs do not like to draw blood from infants, due to the high likelihood that the infant will begin screaming like an elf who's just fallen off the bridge at the Battle of Helm's Deep. (I'm reaching here. Sorry.) And so it was with great trepidation that the tech and the receptionist (enlisted to hold Action Hero's other arm as he sat in my lap) approached him for the blood draw. Their trepidation turned to astonishment as he sat calmly in my lap the whole time, looking up at them like, "What's the big deal here, guys?" He repeated the same feat yesterday, when his blood was drawn for allergy-testing purposes. Boy Wonder is not so stoic when it comes to needles, but if I'd had one stuck in my arm when I was six hours old, and then had it left there for a week, I'd probably be cranky about that too. (Will I blog about that someday? Why, yes! Eventually.)
In summary, Action Hero is a lovely, wonderful baby with lots of talents.
Next up: Boy Wonder's latest verbal gems.
Celebrating "R" Virus Awareness Month:
First, he got rotavirus, which was heralded by a day and a half of progressively stinkier diapers and an even more impressive vomiting episode. (I'd just finished nursing him, and he'd nearly drifted off to sleep but woke up when the Scooby-Doo theme started playing. I took him into our computer room and said to Dragon, "Darn, he was almost sleeping just now! I don't think he's feeling good, though." Action Hero agreed with me immediately, coughing and then drenching my front with everything he'd eaten that day. And I do mean "everything." I have never had the meaning of the term "blow chunks" made so clear to me.) After a week or so, his stomach (and diapers) finally returned to normal. At which point he suddenly developed a roaring fever that lasted for three days and did not accompany any other symptoms. It broke on a Monday, and he seemed better, but on Tuesday I got The Call from daycare; he had a rash. Then things became clear: textbook case of roseola. We are hoping to avoid rubella and other viruses that begin with "r." Instead, he now has hives, and has had some blood drawn to be tested for food allergies.
Increased playing action:
For a while now, Action Hero has enjoyed picking up objects and marching around the house with them. Recently, this has taken on another element: now, he picks up an item, holds it out toward you as though he's going to bring it to you, and then turns around and runs (no, seriously, it is pretty close to actual running) away giggling. Then, you must chase him, saying "Baby has a box/car/Elmo/cell phone/CD! I must have that box/car/Elmo/cell phone/CD!" as he continues to run around and giggle.
Action Hero phone home (sort of):
He likes to hold my cell phone. It is small, silver, and shiny, so I imagine it is quite alluring to him. And I always wondered what he would do if it chanced to ring while he was holding it. This thought floated through my head as I talked with my mother on the (regular) phone earlier this week, and I vocalized it. She said, "Oh, I'll have your dad get my cell phone and call your cell phone!" When it rang, he looked at it with mild surprise and then turned to me, held out the phone, and began grinning like anything and bouncing up and down. Rather like, "LOOK WHAT I DID I MADE THE PHONE RING!!!!!!!" Gosh, he was pleased with himself.
Baby of bravery:
I can't imagine why I forgot to blog about this months ago, but our pediatrician requests a blood draw at the nine-month appointment. Lab techs do not like to draw blood from infants, due to the high likelihood that the infant will begin screaming like an elf who's just fallen off the bridge at the Battle of Helm's Deep. (I'm reaching here. Sorry.) And so it was with great trepidation that the tech and the receptionist (enlisted to hold Action Hero's other arm as he sat in my lap) approached him for the blood draw. Their trepidation turned to astonishment as he sat calmly in my lap the whole time, looking up at them like, "What's the big deal here, guys?" He repeated the same feat yesterday, when his blood was drawn for allergy-testing purposes. Boy Wonder is not so stoic when it comes to needles, but if I'd had one stuck in my arm when I was six hours old, and then had it left there for a week, I'd probably be cranky about that too. (Will I blog about that someday? Why, yes! Eventually.)
In summary, Action Hero is a lovely, wonderful baby with lots of talents.
Next up: Boy Wonder's latest verbal gems.
Monday, March 05, 2007
The days are just packed
Recently, I had lunch with a former coworker (and current friend). As a working parent, she was quite curious about what the boys and I do at home now that I am unemployed. I don’t think I gave her a very good answer, and have been pondering this topic since. And I’ve realized that I really have quite an extensive infant and early-childhood enrichment program going here. Listed below are just a few samples of my intensive curriculum.
Weekly Nature Appreciation: Once a week , the local horticultural society offers free admission to county residents. During our trips there, we look at trees and flowers (“Wow! Those sure do look like big red pineapples!”), throw pennies in a variety of fountains, and sit on a variety of benches.
Sports and Recreation, Indoor: When Action Hero is napping, Boy Wonder and I play Candyland.
Sports and Recreation, Outdoor: Pretty darned infrequent these days. However, if Action Hero takes a long nap and the temperature is above 30 degrees, Boy Wonder and I visit our backyard, where we kick and throw balls, fling snow in various directions, and dig holes in previously mentioned snow.
Art (and Art Appreciation): As Action Hero observes from his high chair, Boy Wonder explores artistic methods and materials, including Play-Doh, watercolors, poster paints, and finger paints. Note: as of January 2007, the poster-painting portion of the class has been placed on hiatus (“Mommy? There’s something cold in my mouth!” “Uh, yeah, that would be THE PAINTBRUSH FULL OF GREEN PAINT. You are done painting for the day.”)
Classic Animated Series Viewing and Critique: Boy Wonder watches Scooby-Doo DVDs, and I note that there seem to be two different theme songs. He prefers some episodes over others, and explains his reasoning (“The Tar Monster is not really scary. Neither is the vampire one. But the scary snake one is scary today.”).
Library Science (cross-referenced with Appropriate Public Behavior): We visit the library, and peruse a variety of educational books and movies. All while listening to Mommy, not running, not shouting, and waiting for Mommy before we get on the elevator. (Boy Wonder learned that last one the hard way.)
Health: Frequent tips on health, fitness, and proper nutrition, repeated often at high volume. (“Get your finger out of your nose! Wash your hands after using the bathroom! No, wash your hands NOW! I meant that about the finger! Cheese curls are not for breakfast! You just had a huge bowl of popcorn; you do not need a snack!”)
Foraging (cross-referenced with Adult Reflex Development): Action Hero finds Cheerios and bits of crackers in various nooks and crannies of the living room and kitchen. I try to stop him from putting them in his mouth, and make notes to vacuum more frequently.
Culinary Arts, Beginning Through Advanced: Beginner Culinary Arts involves showing Boy Wonder the proper method of placing two toaster waffles in the toaster and then pressing the lever. Intermediate focuses on pouring macaroni noodles into boiling water, and Advanced teaches the techniques of applying sauce, pepperoni, and cheese to premade pizza crusts. I am currently researching more Advanced topics, as Boy Wonder sure likes to make pizza.
Consumer Science: Now that I am home nearly every day, we can go grocery shopping on Double Coupon Day, which falls midweek here. Sometimes, we go to the DVD rental store and get half-price rentals.
New course suggestions are always welcomed, although I do hope that by the end of Spring 2007, my curriculum will be once more confined to evenings and weekends.
Weekly Nature Appreciation: Once a week , the local horticultural society offers free admission to county residents. During our trips there, we look at trees and flowers (“Wow! Those sure do look like big red pineapples!”), throw pennies in a variety of fountains, and sit on a variety of benches.
Sports and Recreation, Indoor: When Action Hero is napping, Boy Wonder and I play Candyland.
Sports and Recreation, Outdoor: Pretty darned infrequent these days. However, if Action Hero takes a long nap and the temperature is above 30 degrees, Boy Wonder and I visit our backyard, where we kick and throw balls, fling snow in various directions, and dig holes in previously mentioned snow.
Art (and Art Appreciation): As Action Hero observes from his high chair, Boy Wonder explores artistic methods and materials, including Play-Doh, watercolors, poster paints, and finger paints. Note: as of January 2007, the poster-painting portion of the class has been placed on hiatus (“Mommy? There’s something cold in my mouth!” “Uh, yeah, that would be THE PAINTBRUSH FULL OF GREEN PAINT. You are done painting for the day.”)
Classic Animated Series Viewing and Critique: Boy Wonder watches Scooby-Doo DVDs, and I note that there seem to be two different theme songs. He prefers some episodes over others, and explains his reasoning (“The Tar Monster is not really scary. Neither is the vampire one. But the scary snake one is scary today.”).
Library Science (cross-referenced with Appropriate Public Behavior): We visit the library, and peruse a variety of educational books and movies. All while listening to Mommy, not running, not shouting, and waiting for Mommy before we get on the elevator. (Boy Wonder learned that last one the hard way.)
Health: Frequent tips on health, fitness, and proper nutrition, repeated often at high volume. (“Get your finger out of your nose! Wash your hands after using the bathroom! No, wash your hands NOW! I meant that about the finger! Cheese curls are not for breakfast! You just had a huge bowl of popcorn; you do not need a snack!”)
Foraging (cross-referenced with Adult Reflex Development): Action Hero finds Cheerios and bits of crackers in various nooks and crannies of the living room and kitchen. I try to stop him from putting them in his mouth, and make notes to vacuum more frequently.
Culinary Arts, Beginning Through Advanced: Beginner Culinary Arts involves showing Boy Wonder the proper method of placing two toaster waffles in the toaster and then pressing the lever. Intermediate focuses on pouring macaroni noodles into boiling water, and Advanced teaches the techniques of applying sauce, pepperoni, and cheese to premade pizza crusts. I am currently researching more Advanced topics, as Boy Wonder sure likes to make pizza.
Consumer Science: Now that I am home nearly every day, we can go grocery shopping on Double Coupon Day, which falls midweek here. Sometimes, we go to the DVD rental store and get half-price rentals.
New course suggestions are always welcomed, although I do hope that by the end of Spring 2007, my curriculum will be once more confined to evenings and weekends.
Sunday, March 04, 2007
An immodest proposal
To whom it may concern,
I am writing regarding employment with your company.
For the past four months, I’ve been unemployed and job-seeking. Even for the first six weeks, when I had severance pay and was not required to look for work, I applied for jobs. I want to work. Unfortunately, your company – along with several others – has declined to hire me. What’s more, nearly three dozen other companies have failed to respond to my resumes and cover letters at all. This is discouraging. I know that you are busy. People with jobs generally are. However, I am sure that I’m not the only job seeker who would like to receive a response – any response – to my query.
What does this have to do with anything? Well, I’m seeing a need here – a need that many HR departments are likely too busy to fulfill. And, let’s face it, no one likes to be the bearer of bad news – except someone who really needs a job. With my seven years of creative writing and editing experience, preceded by nine years of dealing with the general public in retail and customer service positions, I feel that I am uniquely qualified to assist you in this matter. Simply provide me with a list of the addresses, email or otherwise, of your rejected candidates, and I will draft a personal response for each interested applicant. Below are some samples.
Courteous and encouraging:
Thank you for your interest in Our Company. After reviewing your credentials, we have decided to focus on other candidates. We wish you the best of luck in your job search.
Brutally honest:
We don’t regret to inform you that you are not in the least qualified for this position. Seriously, did you even READ the ad? We wish you the best of luck in your job search, because you're sure going to need it.
Mystical:
Fortune Cookie Say: You will have good luck in your personal affairs. However, you will have lousy luck in your business affairs. Starting now, in fact.
Fortune Cookie Say: Wealth without wisdom is a fool’s paradise. Since you do not have wisdom, you will receive no wealth from us.
The Magic 8-Ball says: “It is certain” that you will not be hired by us. Do not “ask again later,” either.
Literary:
The CEO's daughter
Just got her B.A.
Position has been filled
Our ad says "Degree required"
We are not kidding
Call when you earn one
Before working for us
Try working on your resume
‘Cause it blows
You say you're a writer?
My dog could write
A better cover letter
And one for after the first interview:
We said we liked you
But we were just making
Polite conversation
There are plenty more where those came from, believe me. Should you review my qualifications and determine that we are a good fit, I would expect a competitive salary, a fortune cookie allowance, and a Magic 8-Ball for my desk…and, of course, an explanation of why you didn’t hire or call me in the first place.
Thank you for your time and consideration. I look forward to hearing from you this time.
Sincerely,
Anithe
I am writing regarding employment with your company.
For the past four months, I’ve been unemployed and job-seeking. Even for the first six weeks, when I had severance pay and was not required to look for work, I applied for jobs. I want to work. Unfortunately, your company – along with several others – has declined to hire me. What’s more, nearly three dozen other companies have failed to respond to my resumes and cover letters at all. This is discouraging. I know that you are busy. People with jobs generally are. However, I am sure that I’m not the only job seeker who would like to receive a response – any response – to my query.
What does this have to do with anything? Well, I’m seeing a need here – a need that many HR departments are likely too busy to fulfill. And, let’s face it, no one likes to be the bearer of bad news – except someone who really needs a job. With my seven years of creative writing and editing experience, preceded by nine years of dealing with the general public in retail and customer service positions, I feel that I am uniquely qualified to assist you in this matter. Simply provide me with a list of the addresses, email or otherwise, of your rejected candidates, and I will draft a personal response for each interested applicant. Below are some samples.
Courteous and encouraging:
Thank you for your interest in Our Company. After reviewing your credentials, we have decided to focus on other candidates. We wish you the best of luck in your job search.
Brutally honest:
We don’t regret to inform you that you are not in the least qualified for this position. Seriously, did you even READ the ad? We wish you the best of luck in your job search, because you're sure going to need it.
Mystical:
Fortune Cookie Say: You will have good luck in your personal affairs. However, you will have lousy luck in your business affairs. Starting now, in fact.
Fortune Cookie Say: Wealth without wisdom is a fool’s paradise. Since you do not have wisdom, you will receive no wealth from us.
The Magic 8-Ball says: “It is certain” that you will not be hired by us. Do not “ask again later,” either.
Literary:
The CEO's daughter
Just got her B.A.
Position has been filled
Our ad says "Degree required"
We are not kidding
Call when you earn one
Before working for us
Try working on your resume
‘Cause it blows
You say you're a writer?
My dog could write
A better cover letter
And one for after the first interview:
We said we liked you
But we were just making
Polite conversation
There are plenty more where those came from, believe me. Should you review my qualifications and determine that we are a good fit, I would expect a competitive salary, a fortune cookie allowance, and a Magic 8-Ball for my desk…and, of course, an explanation of why you didn’t hire or call me in the first place.
Thank you for your time and consideration. I look forward to hearing from you this time.
Sincerely,
Anithe
Saturday, March 03, 2007
Requiescat
And now for something completely different.
Going on fourteen years ago now, my great-uncle (my grandfather's older brother) passed away. The eulogy the funeral director gave was a bit clunky and stilted, but it got the point across: he had been much loved, and would be much missed. I hadn't known him all that well, but something I heard at the funeral home made me cry. I'd heard someone mention a special two-dollar bill, and wondered what that was all about. Apparently, Grandpa and his brothers had each carried a two-dollar bill during their service in the war (WWII), and none of them had ever suffered an injury of any sort. The two-dollar bills was an important family talisman. So, one was torn in half. Half was placed in my great-uncle's suit pocket, and the other half was given to Grandpa. And Grandpa said, "We can't spend it until we're together again."
In early (very early, like just after New Year's) 2005, Grandpa was experiencing enough shortness of breath to go to the hospital (he didn't like to complain, so we knew he must have been feeling pretty bad). There, the family doctor diagnosed him with congestive heart failure. He was ready to get rid of it, telling the doctor that he really wanted to be around to celebrate his sixtieth wedding anniversary. Surgery was scheduled, and everyone became very worried: after all, he was 84 years old, with a chronic health condition on top of the CHF. What if he didn't even make it through the surgery? But he did, and everyone was very happy, and preparations were made for a joyful homecoming.
But his recovery was slow, and full of difficulties, and he ended up being hospitalized for quite a while. This was hard for him, of course, and tough for his wife and daughters too. Finally, the doctors sent him home to continue his recovery there, since the rehabiliation sessions at the hospital didn't seem to be helping much. He was glad to be home, of course, but physically he wasn't very comfortable, and had terrible trouble sleeping. He was ready to rest, he told my mother.
Several days later, he was readmitted to the hospital with a roaring fever. The day after that, a Sunday, I briefly visited his hospital room (Boy Wonder, almost two at the time, had been jumping around and had smacked his face into the coffee table, biting through his lower lip and bleeding all over the place), where one of my aunts sat red-eyed by his bed. I could tell by looking at him, and by looking at her, that he wouldn't be going home this time.
That Thursday, my father called around five in the afternoon, and said that my grandfather had begun experiencing irregular heart rhythms, and that he would call when he had more news. He called about five hours later.
My grandfather died on March 3, 2005, with his third daughter by his side and the rest of his family thinking of him. Hopefully he and his older brother spent that two-dollar bill shortly thereafter. We miss him – even Boy Wonder, who still recognizes pictures of him and asks about "Papa" from time to time. And I've left the "in pace" off of this post's title; he was a peaceful man in life, and I'm sure his peace continues, wherever he is.
Requiescat.
Going on fourteen years ago now, my great-uncle (my grandfather's older brother) passed away. The eulogy the funeral director gave was a bit clunky and stilted, but it got the point across: he had been much loved, and would be much missed. I hadn't known him all that well, but something I heard at the funeral home made me cry. I'd heard someone mention a special two-dollar bill, and wondered what that was all about. Apparently, Grandpa and his brothers had each carried a two-dollar bill during their service in the war (WWII), and none of them had ever suffered an injury of any sort. The two-dollar bills was an important family talisman. So, one was torn in half. Half was placed in my great-uncle's suit pocket, and the other half was given to Grandpa. And Grandpa said, "We can't spend it until we're together again."
In early (very early, like just after New Year's) 2005, Grandpa was experiencing enough shortness of breath to go to the hospital (he didn't like to complain, so we knew he must have been feeling pretty bad). There, the family doctor diagnosed him with congestive heart failure. He was ready to get rid of it, telling the doctor that he really wanted to be around to celebrate his sixtieth wedding anniversary. Surgery was scheduled, and everyone became very worried: after all, he was 84 years old, with a chronic health condition on top of the CHF. What if he didn't even make it through the surgery? But he did, and everyone was very happy, and preparations were made for a joyful homecoming.
But his recovery was slow, and full of difficulties, and he ended up being hospitalized for quite a while. This was hard for him, of course, and tough for his wife and daughters too. Finally, the doctors sent him home to continue his recovery there, since the rehabiliation sessions at the hospital didn't seem to be helping much. He was glad to be home, of course, but physically he wasn't very comfortable, and had terrible trouble sleeping. He was ready to rest, he told my mother.
Several days later, he was readmitted to the hospital with a roaring fever. The day after that, a Sunday, I briefly visited his hospital room (Boy Wonder, almost two at the time, had been jumping around and had smacked his face into the coffee table, biting through his lower lip and bleeding all over the place), where one of my aunts sat red-eyed by his bed. I could tell by looking at him, and by looking at her, that he wouldn't be going home this time.
That Thursday, my father called around five in the afternoon, and said that my grandfather had begun experiencing irregular heart rhythms, and that he would call when he had more news. He called about five hours later.
My grandfather died on March 3, 2005, with his third daughter by his side and the rest of his family thinking of him. Hopefully he and his older brother spent that two-dollar bill shortly thereafter. We miss him – even Boy Wonder, who still recognizes pictures of him and asks about "Papa" from time to time. And I've left the "in pace" off of this post's title; he was a peaceful man in life, and I'm sure his peace continues, wherever he is.
Requiescat.
Friday, March 02, 2007
That blows
It snowed. And then it snowed some more. And then it snowed AGAIN.
"Mommy? Look! That man is mowing the snow!"
"Well, sort of. That's called a snowblower, and grownups use it to clean up snow."
"Oh. Wow." (pause) "I sure wish I had one of those, Mommy!"
"Yeah. I bet Daddy would really like one, too."
"Mommy? Look! That man is mowing the snow!"
"Well, sort of. That's called a snowblower, and grownups use it to clean up snow."
"Oh. Wow." (pause) "I sure wish I had one of those, Mommy!"
"Yeah. I bet Daddy would really like one, too."
