Who knew?

I felt like such a grown up this weekend. It's probably strange to be saying that since, you know, I'm 40 and all, but the majority of the time I still don't feel like I have this adult thing figured out too well. I mean, I have all of the attributes, right? Married? Check. Kids? Check. Advanced Degree? Check. Job? Check.

There are just some things that I haven't been able to turn the corner on, and having had two smallish kids for at least the last six years, there's always been a reason not to get it together. Too tired to consistently get the dishes done. Too busy with the kids to actually have a house that I'd let someone in. Too much kid STUFF to even think about attacking the mound.

This weekend wasn't earth shattering in that I made a ton of progress, not really if I were honest about it. But, I did manage to get all the laundry in the washer and subsequently into the dryer (where the last load is currently resting). I clean off the dining room table down to the point where we can actually eat at it and not have to look over a mound of paper/bills/magazines/homework to see each other. I'm one load of dishes/handwash away from having nothing in the sink. Did a small grocery run to fill in the gaps for the rest of week with lunches. Got almost all of my FSA submissions gathered and submitted. Maybe this speaks to the horrible depths to which we have descended, but I view it more as a sign that I'm actually catching up and not completely under water. Yep, that's what I'm going to do.

Yes, I know that it's only Monday, but I'd rather bounce along today than mope about what hasn't happened. YAY me!!

Breathe.Repeat.

Wow, it has been nothing but non-stop moving since oh, jeez, last Tuesday?

Breathe. Repeat.

For once, I got most of all of the fun weekend type stuff (laundry, find the bottom of the kitchen sink, etc.) done. Now, let's be clear-I still have two baskets of laundry that need to be folded and deposited where they need to be. But! But! I am proud to note that there is nothing sitting in the dryer. I even managed to wash a couple of small cat beds, and the dogs' blankets (such as they are-stained towels from Husband's hotel, but they seem to like them) and get them back to the kennels.

I still feel like I've been run over by a truck. I had a bunch of things to do for work that didn't get done, and ran out of mulch for my tree ring hosta beds. But for the first time in a while, I didn't feel like a complete and utter failure, which is a plus.

I knew that this week would be a bear, and it has been, a whole day in. Back to back meetings, various fire drills, pulling me out of meetings, running from one end of the building to another (twice), being short an admin....you get the idea.

However, BabyA, who I can't remember if I have renamed her here as LMT (little miss thing), has seemed to turn the corner on the whole potty training thing. Now, granted, just by virtue of me typing this I will get home tonight to find multiple bags of "mistakes," but she had a fantastic weekend as far as that went. We moved her to a big girl bed (making her crib a daybed) and she has done amazingly well. She hates to get her Tinkerbell or Fancy Nancy undies yukky, so her stubbornness may actually work in our favor for a change. She's also taking to water in an almost fish like manner at her swimming lessons. As opposed to the ordeal that we went through with Son, she looks forward to each Saturday, and can't wait to get into the pool. Son treated it as an eight week long punishment and did his best cat impersonation each time that he got into the pool.

Speaking of the pool, I'm actually in the water with LMT. I've managed to suspend my usual strong aversion to appearing in public in anything resembling to a swimsuit, but in this case, having LMT as a very cute accessory seems to work. Yes, there is one mom who shows up in a bikini, and another that looks like she has probably run for, and may someday win, Mrs. Minnesota (but also seems to be a genuinely nice person), but it has been remarkably free of angst despite it all.

Work keeps ramping up with little to no breaks. I'm short an attorney right now, and have to start yet another round of recruiting (blech). I'm loving all the stuff that is coming across my desk and through my door, but hate the fact that I can't seem to, or ever possibly, get it all done. I like the fact that I seem to have won over at least parts of the engineering community, and that I'm getting involved on a higher business level, and that they seem to care about IP at this point. I'm worried that if I don't find a way to get it all done, I will lose all of that momentum and good will, and it will end up blowing up on me.

The part that I'm having trouble finding the balance is that I really need to see my kids. It's not necessarily coming from the place where I know that my kids need me, but more that I need them. They center me, and seem to give me fuel to keep going. One of my favorite things at night is sitting on the love seat in LMT's room and talking to her about her day, or talking about the story that we had just read. Or, if I get the chance, to sit in bed with Son and talk about his day. If I were a good little employee, I would then log in and work for another of couple of hours. I'm afraid if I keep up this type of pace, I will fall apart rather quickly. When I have done this before, I turn into that shrieking, crazy mother that sends children into therapy as adults. I hate that-it does nothing but make us all miserable. Husband is not the most positive person when it comes to handling the kids, and I don't want to pile on top of that. Son is so sensitive, and keeps so much of it inside, that I worry that I will end up with a four year old with an ulcer. Not because I was that kind of kid. Really.

I've rambled all over the place, and probably should have closed several paragraphs before now. Time to pay attention to my call...you know, what I get paid for.

the churn

Ah, a lovely Monday and I'm pretty much completely moved into my new office with-get this-a window! Yay! You have to understand that this complex of patched together building that I work in is seriously short on anything resembling natural light. To be in an office area that actually gets it is a perk, but an office-oh boy! I had to downsize a bit, but that's OK. I've got lawn, a tree, and the occasional Canadian Goose flock to saunter on by. Nirvana for an office rat, I tell you!

We moved the entire department (including a file room of 2000+ paper files) last week, and of course, both of the kids were sick. Son crashed after trick or treating, and stayed down until Wednesday. BabyA was summarily dismissed from daycare with a temp of 102 on Wednesday afternoon, and stayed home the rest of the week. Son got the worst of it really-a high temp even on Motrin, and extreme fatigue. BabyA pretty much had the one day of a fever, and that was it. Both were more than a bit stir crazy by the weekend. The timing couldn't have been a whole lot worse. I was trying to get our department moved, and Husband was short a desk clerk, so he had to pick up desk shifts all week. I was able to be here all day Monday to pack up my office, and parts of Tuesday and Friday. I'm still a bit in boxes, as is the file room, but we'll get there. Eventually. I hope.

Survived SIL's shower on Saturday. Enough said.

We've also found another house that we are interested in-and Husband actually seems sort of vested in it. Based on the price, and what we could gather from the condition (from peering in at night with the car lights, and no, no one lives there), there has to be some sort of backstory. I'm going to be emailing the agent to get a little more info. If it does end up being something that we would be interested in, it may take a while to move based on the time of year, so we may have more time to think about it. Apparently I've been approaching this all wrong with him. It's yet another step in the right direction.

Since I'm being completely random, I was talking to my manager a couple of days ago, and mentioned how I was so blessed tired, and just starving (missed lunch, again). He asked if I was going to spring a maternity leave request on him. I'm telling you, I can't get away from it! I told him that it would cost me a lot of money and time in order to ask for another one; short answer, no.

Lots of other stuff, but probably not interesting enough to waste the key strokes on. Time to unpack another box.....

Memories

It's funny what can be a trigger for memories. A scent, a date on the calendar, the clouds on a certain day.

For example, since I l ive in the great white north, none of the exterior doors to my building at work open right into the building, you have to go through another set. The gate that I tend to use is right next to the outdoor "smoke shack." I have to pause to badge in, and the smell of stale smoke and the outside always takes me back to the bowling alley in my little home town. My dad has bowled league pretty much since my conception. On the rare occasion that my mom wasn't home on league nights, I would get to go with, and that smell just takes me there. I can actually see it in great detail, one that honestly hasn't changed based on the last time that I was in there.

Then, there is the calendar. Both Son and BabyA were conceived in December, which means that I was usually cycling around this time of year. Trying to get downtown to my clinic during rush hour in the fall rain or early winter sleet, thanking God that I could get by with my bigger sweaters because I was all puffy from the progesterone and the injectables. It just seems strange, even two years later, to not be doing that again. There is a rhythm of sorts to infertility treatments. At least for me; if I couldn't have the predictability of a regular cycle on my own, it was of ultrasound, bloodwork, trips to the pharmacy.

So, alas, my thoughts turn to wanting to find that rhythm again. I had actually come to some sort of point where I was almost OK with being done. It still feels wrong, in a way that I can't articulate, to go through what we did, invest so much money, time, and emotion, and then just close and weld the door shut. Husband can't understand it; he thinks I'm nuts. Maybe since it was never really his body failing; barely sub-normal motility aside, he never had the feeling of failure and utter contempt for his body. The only way that I was able to at least push the majority of that aside was having kids, nursing them, in essence growing them.

I've been struggling a bit more with this since the announcement that my brother and his wife are expecting in January. I felt all of those weird, knee jerk reactions steeped in years of infertility, in addition to a degree of self-loathing that I was feeling that way STILL, even after two kids. Would this give me a baby fix that I seem to need so much, or will it hammer home that I'm not done? I'm old, I'm a repeat gestational diabetic, I could end up paying for daycare for three (!), and I'm a bedroom short. Oh, and the other half of the required genetic material, since he's not supportive of the idea.

To some degree, it almost feels like infertility all over again-wanting something that is so far out of reach, but feeling that it would be the last piece in the puzzle. It's not like my kids aren't good enough, or don't fulfill that part of me. That's not it at all. I just feel as though we aren't complete yet. Would I be crushed it we ended up staying at two? No. Not in the least. The two of them are more than I could have ever anticipated. I'm still amazed some days when I have to look back in the car and settle a fight between two talking, sentient beings.

That being said, am I tempting fate to expect another good outcome? The two previous outcomes were more than I could have asked for. What if, by wanting more, and not appearing to appreciate what I have, will I get more than I can handle? What if we don't dodge the multiple bullet? What if something goes wrong? I understand fertiles have the same issues, but because it was so hard getting here, I wonder if the stakes aren't a bit higher, at least in my own mind.

My fear is that time will just pass us by, and by making no affirmative decision we really make a decision with no thought, no discussion. Big talks like this don't usually go too well at my house. Despite my best efforts, I get all emotional, which tends to hold less weight with Husband than something that I can lay out in the type of ABC logic that he seems to require. I get pissed off that he doesn't "get it", and that if he really knew me at all he would and he's so mean....you get the idea. The whole issue that I can't really point to one particular factor doesn't help my cause. I read an article not too long ago that pretty much said that if you are wanting another baby to fill a personal void-companionship, a need for attention, etc.-you are doing it for the wrong reasons. I don't think that I fall into that camp but since I'm the type that can analyze things to death, it keeps pecking at me.

So. It's fall. I'm thinking about babies. And unable to make any decision at all.

Jumble

The past week or so has left me feeling off balance, like I'm floating above it all, or more like getting blown away by the wind, while I try to grab onto whatever solid thing I can, but getting ripped away each time.

Things at home are still touch and go some days. He's tired and cranky, so am I. I can't talk to him about all of the stuff that is happening at work, since he doesn't understand (or have enough patience to learn it so he can understand) what I do, and that some of the angst and conflict is based around legal ideology and theory in a small specialized field. It's not enough for him to just try to understand and see that I'm a bit shaky in the confidence area right now, that I just need some faith in me, since I'm having a hard time finding it myself right now.

I had a colleague make it very clear to me last week that he thinks that I'm a subpar attorney, and he called me out on it in front of the entire department. This was someone that I had trusted, someone that I had let me guard down to. The worst feeling is to be at the point of tears, being the only woman in the room, being pissed off at the person and pissed off at yourself because you can't make the tears disappear, and knowing that you have to suck it up for two more days. To say that the relationship is damaged would be accurate. He will never acknowledge that he was out of line for doing it, and will continue to believe that he was righteous. I'm still mad about it, and still shaken. I talked to another friend/mentor type, and he understood, since he knows us both, and was even my manager for a brief while. Some of the points made had merit-I'm not as strong as I should be in some areas, but I'm pretty certain that I'm not approaching malpractice. I haven't been submarined like this since high school-still don't like it too much.

There was a healthy, six year old boy that died last week from H1N1. Scares the living bejesus out of me. He looked a bit like Son. I'm trying not to feed into the panic, the worries, but I'm worried about my kids. Worried that someone will send a sick kid to daycare, that sick kid will end up being OK, but mine won't. The very possibility of that is unfathomable to me. I'm doing what I can-they are going to get both shots when they become available (BabyA had the nasal flu vaccination last week). Hands are being washed religiously. Vitamins and sleep are in pretty good supply. I don't normally succumb to this sort of stuff, but I'm more than a little bit scared.

The stupid thing is, I'm worried that the law of probabilities is going to catch up with me. Things have been going too well lately-the shoe has got to drop at some point. Despite my bitching here, things have been going pretty well. Up until last week, I was really having fun at work. I was being challenged, building a team that I think can be here for the long haul, learning. The kids have been so much fun lately-BabyA is speaking in complex sentences (albeit not always intelligible, but she's getting there), Son has had another leap in development. I got sucked into believing that this is the way things are supposed to be.

The first thing that dissuaded me of that fallacy was the ambush at work, what's next? Maybe it's self-fulfilling, but this has happened to me more than once, and I'm trying so hard not to be blindsided, to have the emotions knocked out of me, that I've got my guard up too high.

I should really go and try to be productive-my jug of Diet Pepsi is the only fortification that I have right now-charge!

Another weekend down-it's Sunday night and far too late, but this is the first time that I've stopped and just sat. Seriously. I busted it to get laundry done so we could make it (with clean clothes) to a late afternoon wedding on Saturday. We were 15 minutes late, despite a bunch of good efforts. We took the kids, since the groom is their godfather. I hear that Husband had a good time-I spent it all chasing BabyA. No easy task in spike heels at a semi-outdoor venue. Son was sooo good-I was so proud of him. It was a small wedding-50 guests, tops-and the bride and groom have six kids between them, so no one batted an eye when BabyA was being a two year old. Good thing for her that she's so darn cute.

Husband woke up pissy this morning, yelled at me for taking his least favorite dog in the Caddie (my Jeep was still at work since Husband picked me up on Friday), and was a general asshole for most if not all of the day. I don't think that we said more than a few sentences to each other. I don't know what his problem was. I told him that I was going on a walk-the kids weren't up yet, and the weather was really nice, and the dog and I could use some outside time. Apparently, Husband thought that I was just going to go up and down our street. Let's see, I've been spending at least half an hour almost every day all week for a while now. Why would I go up and down the street for fifteen minutes? He was also kind enough to inform me that the Caddie was HIS car, and how dare I...blah blah blah.

Hmmmm-seems like I made the majority of the car payments on that thing. Oh, and you have the new, nice car that I'm not ALLOWED to drive. Two words for you: Fuck and You.

He went on and on about the woman that was the date of one of the men that was at our table at the wedding. Yes, she was beautiful. Yes, she seemed like a genuinely nice person. I stuffed myself into three inch spikes, spent $300 on the new outfit, and he didn't say a fucking word. I had felt pretty good in the dressing room. Right now I just want to tear it to shreds.

He went to bed without me. Turned off the light and the TV. He never thinks to leave out PJs or anything for me, so I'll get to search around in the dark or improvise. I don't even want to go to bed, don't even want to share the same space, since it feels like he thinks that I'm not doing anything but taking it up. I'm so tired of feeling stupid and not good enough and tip toeing around my own house.

I know that we need to talk about it, maybe actually be together. Last night, I found myself thinking over and over that I wished that we could just be grown-ups and enjoy the night, not with Husband working the room and me chasing down two kids and ending up with the kids meal smeared on my sweater.

I'm frustrated, I'm tired, and desperately trying to make sure that I steel myself against having a huge letdown when he blows my birthday this week. I should be better at this than I am. I don't have the time to dig in either, which adds this almost frantic edge to my anxiety. I'm interviewing seven people for the position that I'm hiring for. My boss and the rest of the department is in all week. Early, early mornings, and later nights. I should be reading resumes and going to bed. Blech.

And that's all I have to say about that.....

OK, enough already about my mornings. Today wasn't a good one, but I know that we'll get back on track tomorrow. Son admitted that he likes getting to school early, and that maybe, just maybe, it would help if he would just get dressed when told to life would be easier. Hmmmm....maybe this is all sinking in.

Life in general has been moving along at a predictable, albeit hectic, pace. Work has calmed down a bit-the group that had been making life very interesting for almost a year was officially disbanded in mid-July. There is another project of a much smaller scope coming up, and I'm looking forward to it. For some reason, crazy seems to make me feel needed around here. I really need to talk to someone about that....

Other than the kids getting a year older this month (ack! sob!), things at home have settled into something resembling a schedule. I'm trying to be more active with the kids, trying to be more engaged. I hate having to spend Saturday mornings sorting laundry and cleaning cat boxes and unloading the dishwasher and taking out the dogs while they sit and watch all of the recorded kid shows from the past week, but if I don't, we are sunk. It's an ongoing battle, one that I'm hoping I can find a strategy for. As I've mentioned before, Husband usually manages to disappear during this time. I honestly can't tell you what he did last week-really, I can't. But, if you ask him, I don't do enough at home. I try not to get snippy about it, but I can't help but let it boil over once in a while. He just looks at me like I've lost my mind. I'm sorry, but mowing the lawn DOES NOT COUNT. He just sits and watches TV, and while Son will curl up with him, I really wish that he would find a way to actually DO something with him. It's an ongoing point of contention, and one that is growing, at least in my mind.

Honestly, there are days where I just don't like Husband that much. I never thought that I would be in this place, since what had pulled us together was a shared background, and he really was a good listener and made me feel valued. That really isn't there anymore, and there are days where I'm actually happy that he isn't there-it's just easier than having to accommodate all of his dislikes and triggers. We have a two year old that doesn't have a volume control. She is loud and just wants to be heard. She's TWO. He doesn't get that, and yells at her. I'm stuck between wanting to cry, wanting to yell at him for being such an ass and prima donna, and being full of resentment that he doesn't get that I don't get any downtime either. And that makes me even crabbier than before. I don't think that we're at the point of no return, but it feels like we are looking down the slippery slope. The sad thing is, I don't think that he sees it. I'm just always there, always taking care of things, so he doesn't have to worry. I found myself thinking about how nice it would be to have my clothes folded and put in a place where all I have to do is put them away. Where someone else makes sure that I have the basics taken care of. To just be taken care of. I just don't foresee it ever happening.

I'm tired, but at least I have my kids. I know that they shouldn't be providing all of my emotional validation, but they are. I'm trying not to rely on them for that, but I have to say that it's nice to get a hug from them and know that there are no further aspirations or expectations. They do it because they love me, they need me. I just can't seem to get that anywhere else lately, and I'm feeling a bit depleted. The moronic thing? I still have this ember glowing inside about wanting to have a third. I've gone over all of the reasons why this is nuts, but it's still there. Sigh.

One of these days I'll have my act together, but I'm not counting on it.

How long does it take to make a habit?

I'm serious, how long does it take? We are now on day two of-are you sitting down?-of being early for preschool. Organized "class" started back up after the summer break on Tuesday. They kick things off at 8:30, which doesn't really jive with our normal arrival time of 9:00ish. BabyA has been missing the whole coverage of colors, shapes, etc. (Insert guilty shuffling of feet on my part). Fortunately she has been picking things up at home from books and just common interaction; normal stuff really, but still, I pay quite nicely for this kind of of learning, so it would be nice if I could get my butt in gear to actually get her there on time. Son hasn't been missing much-but still.

So, I had made a small vow to myself, and to him, that once "school" started up again, we would be on time. Fortuitously, there was an article in my latest "Parenting" that had the "confessions of a tardy mom." To say that it resounded quite well with me would be an understatement. There were some basic ideas that I had never even contemplated before, but when I really thought about it, it made perfect sense. For example, focusing on a load time as opposed to when you need to leave to make it on time. For us, this is especially relevant, since there is always something that goes wrong as soon as we attempt to get out to the car; the dog goes on a walkabout, the kids need something special for that day and didn't tell me, I forgot diapers/milk/etc. It would help if I would get it all together the night before, which has eliminated some of these issues-well at least for the past couple of days. So far, so good.

Oh, and there is that whole thing about getting to work at a decent time too-I've been scaring my support staff! I suppose that it's about time I started acting like a grown up. I'm 38 next month, and I still feel like some goofy 20something that is still feeling her way around. I've got a mortgage, a husband, car payments, and two kids! When the hell did that happen?

Anyway, I just wanted to get up some self-congratulatory drivel. I'm usually only here when something is on its way down, and it's nice to finally feel like I've actually accomplished a silly little goal like being on time so my kids can get the most out of their opportunity to learn. I may get this whole adult thing down yet!

Catching a break?

Today the powers that be were kind enough to send out what we employees call Company spam regarding the lovely "temporary" base pay reductions. The check that we get on Friday will be the first at the reduced level. After the obligatory groan, I logged into our nifty online payroll system, and compared the amounts. The total difference after taxes was less than I had counted on,which was a pleasant surprise.

Basically, it comes down to, on a per check basis, about $400 less per pay period. The part about maybe, possibly, catching a break? With BabyA moving into the toddler room at daycare, my overall daycare bill has been reduced by $300 a month. So, that means that I only have to find a way to make up $250 per pay period instead of $400. Husband got his bonus numbers in a couple of days ago (his company uses some convoluted formula based on about four different variables), and we should be able to knock out at least one credit card, if not two. If we can manage that, we get back to goodness in about six weeks. We may even come out ahead-those two credit cards alone can make up the difference, and then some.

I was pretty worried about this whole thing, based on what my estimated numbers gave me. However, now that I have everything in front of me, we should be able to make it. We had been living within our means at the first level, and now we'll adjust to the new level. As long as we play our cards right, we may even emerge from this in a better financial place than before-a strange by product of the whole economic downturn. I guess that it sometimes just takes a pretty firm kick in the butt to finally get our act together.

Just six more weeks.....

God has a strange, twisted, sense of humor

So, this payday on Friday will be my first with the base pay reduction. I've done some of the math, and know enough that we need to tighten up even more. We've been doing basic stuff, but now it needs to be more concentrated. Between our taxes and Husband's bonus (yes, he still gets one-it's performance based), we should be able to get rid of two pieces of credit card debt, which will help. We've just got to suck it up until the late March/early April time frame, and it may get a little easier.

Why the title then? Um, well, the house that I gushed about a couple of posts ago? The one that Husband actually likes and can see himself in?

They dropped the price another $18k.

I so want this.

If I were making the same amount, I would be up for trying to find a way to (a) sell our house and (b) find other sources for the rest of the down payment so we don't have to pay PMI. If we could accomplish that, we could get a whole lot more house for about the same payment as we have now.

But I'm not making the same amount. It also took our neighbor over six months to sell her house. She bought at the top of the market, and from what I can tell, took about a $30k loss on the deal. Still, if we could get what she ultimately did, we may be in business.

It will probably be a moot point in a week or so anyway; this house won't be around much longer at this price. The timing is all wrong. However, when I talked to Husband about it today, he did point out that since when has our timing ever been right, or more to the point, have we ever paid attention to it?

Part of me is almost antsy in the anticipation of trying to make this work-in five years it could be one of the best things that we could have done. However, the fear of what could happen if something goes very wrong also makes me twitchy. One of loses our job, some major health incident where one of us can't work, and we're gone.

Sigh. As Bill Cosby said, God has a sense of humor. At this point, I think it is a pretty wicked version.

The true mom chronicles

Lots has been going on in chronicle land, but as I've plead earlier, I've been up to my eyeballs trying to get this new job of mine under control, and either I am in the midst of a sleep-deprived delusion (damn style channel) or it is really getting better. I am by no means out of the woods on this one, and may not be for quite some time, but it hasn't been even remotely as heinous as predicted. However, the reality need not be known publicly; from the people that I've talked to at my old site, I'm up for sainthood. How cool is that? I just had to move to a different location, but no horrible death. Hmmm....

Son has been doing extremely well on the potty training front. In the two weeks that I have been sending him to DC in underwear, he's only had a couple of accidents. I asked the teachers if they thought that we were pushing things, and they said that they thought he was doing great, and to change anything would probably cause things to backslide. We're still struggling with the whole poop thing-he'll do it at home, but it's iffy at daycare. He's been a little constipated-yes, I know that y'all really needed to know that-but I think that may be causing some of our problems. He does fine with getting in enough fluids, but I'll need to make up another batch of Husband's fantastic bran muffins to help things out. I'm not kidding, they are really, really good.

Anyway, he's been doing so well, that he's been "visiting" the pre-school room, and has been handling it pretty well. I can tell that the change is on his mind-he wants to re-join his old friends that are older than he is, most of whom he has been with since he was a baby-but yet he's not so sure about this whole big boy thing. It helps that one of the teachers that he loved in the toddler room is now in one of the pre-school rooms. This whole development, however, has raised quite a question on our part however. Since my job location has changed, and the current daycare is actually quite a way out of the way now, do we move him before he gets too settled into the pre-school environment (which he should be ready for by the start of the "school" year after Labor Day), or, since I still have to cover my old site for a while, leave him there until we absolutely have to move? Part of me thinks that it is worth the extra time and miles because he is comfortable and is doing so well. He knows most of his letters, and I heard him sounding something out a couple of days ago. He didn't get it quite right, but he was working on it based on what he knew. Oh, and did I mention that my tuition would go down again? Probably enough to justify the gas? But then again, winter is coming, and if they close, neither Husband or I are very close. I really don't want to deal with this, but I know that I will have to eventually.

On happier news, BabyA took her first steps this week. And I missed them. One of the sucky things about being a working mom. I appreciate that the daycare ladies wrote it down on her report to let me know. However, the little stinker hasn't repeated her feat at home yet. She can stand independently for a long time, but just isn't quite certain that forward movement is a good thing. She does this weird little plie type of move, like she's trying to wind up or something, but usually all that results in is that her legs get tired and she plunks down on her diapered bottom. She's still my light-her smiles are worth everything. She even has decided to grow some hair! Not as much as Son had at this age, but she isn't a cue ball anymore!

There is certainly more that I need to prattle on about, like how much longer I plan on nursing, Husband's run in with my dad (he's now 2-2 with pissing off my parents), and all sorts of other fun stuff. However, I do need to get some work done so I can possibly entertain the thought of sneaking out for a quick shopping excursion before I pick up the kids. Happy Friday!

My morning

4:32 AM: wake up with a start to Son sobbing from his room. Launch self out of bed to make sure that the child is not in mortal danger. Calm down, tuck back in, back into bed.

4:48 AM: Son is crying again. Kick Husband in shins and tell him that it's his turn. He tries to weasel out of it, keep kicking until he gets his ass out of bed.

4:52 AM: Son is crying again. I get up and bring him into bed with us, with a small glimmer of hope that maybe he will sleep. He had a horrid nightmare, the same recurring one that seems to show up when he is stressed (we've been hitting potty training pretty hard lately).

5:05 AM: Husband gets up for the day.

[insert five minute stretches of nap between squirms from Son, who can make a King bed feel small]

5:45 AM: Alarm

5:53 AM: Alarm after vicious snooze activation

6:11 AM: Wake up after alarm was turned off. Son is finally asleep, so I slip out of bed to get my day going, since it isn't going to wait for me.

6:22 AM: Son wakes up alone in our bed and loses it. He is honestly terrified and scared, so the point of what almost resembles an anxiety attack.

8:50 AM: Finally get into the car to go to work. It has been a loooooong morning.

9:10 AM: Son vomits all over himself and the carseat no more than five minutes from daycare. The menu? Goldfish and grapes.

9:50 AM: Arrive at work at new location (more on that when I can find some time to breathe), exchange Son with Husband, who will stay home with him that day. Extract stinky carseat from my vehicle, to avoid it fermenting in my dark colored car on a 80+ degree day.

10:10 AM Finally get into my office.

Am I having fun yet?

What's the name of that Goddess?

You know the one, the one with all of the arms and hands, with the calm and serene look on her face? That one? I can't remember the name, but I could have used her this morning.

BabyA threw a massive wrench into my routine this morning, and I really needed another adult around. Son does a more than admirable job of trying to keep her busy (there may be an Emily train in this for him), but when she is grumpy, and goopy, and just being a baby there is not much you can do. Plus, it's not fair to ask an almost three year old to run interference.

You see, normally, BabyA sleeps up until we are almost ready to leave, prior to the toy negotiations with Son. That means I am showered, prepared, and dressed prior to retrieving the little princess. Not so today. Up at 7:15, right after I got out of the shower. For those of you who have tried, putting on makeup with a grabby nine month old on one hip is not fun. I tried to put her down, but since she wouldn't let me be out of eyesight, and the tile and the tub and the toilet and the pedestal sink are not horribly forgiving, I had to hold her or listen to her scream.

She grumped through a bottle, she grumped through two, yes TWO, poopy diapers, and then promptly snored on the drive into work. You know, over 45 minutes later than normal. Sigh. You'd think that since I have almost half a year into this juggling act that I would get better at it somehow. But, to the contrary, it just gets worse.

Thus far I have restrained all of my urges to thoroughly throttle Husband for so happily tripping off to work, with his only responsibility being taking care of himself and taking out and feeding one of the dogs (yes, I get the other one). He's at work early, with his only worry being that the starch may not have worked so well while he was ironing his shirt. Meanwhile, I look like I am taking a leisurely stroll every morning, despite feeling wiped out before I even get here. Not a promotional bellringer I tell you.

Sigh. I need a vacation.

Marginalized

Request received today:

"Please cut down everything you do regarding intellectual property for a technology dense company in an very competitive industry into four powerpoint slides. Thank you."

I want to rip something apart.

Let's see, I was also told that "patent stuff really isn't relevant" to most of the new hires, even if, as far as I can tell, most of the new hires are related to our research and development. You know, the one that we pump millions of dollars into a year (way more than our closest competitor) and then can't adequately protect because of resource (not enough lawyers) and knowledge (engineers that aren't educated about the process because some moron in some staffing committee decided it wasn't relevant) scarcities.

Argh.

I probably should give background. For several years, we have worked with HR to put together a presentation for new hires at their day one orientation. Basic things about how the patent process works, confidentiality agreements, etc. I've cut it down severely in the past couple of years. It's now been changed that someone in HR, with no IP background, gives our presentation. I could ask them to tell me the difference between the rights that are provided with a patent application (none) and an actual patent (over a decade of enforceable rights) and all they would do is blink at me. I know that it's not their job, but if you don't understand it, don't try to dictate to me what is or isn't important.

It's just another hit in a long line lately of being told that we are oh-so-important by our CEO yet not important enough to deal with our current resource crisis or address any much-needed growth in the future. It's sort of like being the other woman and hearing-I'll leave her next week-only to have it be two years later with nothing changed, yet years of your life are gone.

At least I get to decide which four slides I get to keep. How about the last one just being a picture of one particular finger extended, with an extreme close-up? Feels about right.

And the hits keep on coming

After receiving an email tonight, by the end of April we will have lost 30% of our attorney staff since December. So, let's see, how many people do I have to be now, on top of just handling my job?

1. I picked up my former manager's prosecution load upon his resignation
2. I'm covering for the contracts attorney who is out on maternity leave, and has accepted another position within the company, with only a 50/50 shot of her being replaced
3. We are losing our patent agent in the Far East at the end of April, so I'll pick up all of her agreement work and support for all of Asia, where we have one R&D facility, and multiple manufacturing groups in several different countries.

Oh, and let's see, in the past three years, I've had another manager quit, so I picked up half of his job, and then my partner in crime quite two year ago, which resulted in me picking up the other half of the manager's job. None of these people have been replaced. I don't know if I should cry, get pissed, or give up. I can't wait until I hear what the plan is now.

For some reason, the whole hiding under the covers thing is sounding more and more appealing....

If only

Just a quick summary of how this week has been going.

The slow simmer of a possible positive change in the situation at work has been completely obliterated. I don't know how we are going to emerge from this. My previous musings about finding another job were more fanciful than anything-I harbored the hope that something would finally click here and we could get back to being what we were-a strong, cohesive group that was making significant inroads to making a positive change in the company. I like who I work with, and the work is stimulating, but the environment is horrible right now. I'm not so sure that thoughts about leaving are that out of the realm of possibilty now. I think that I'm moving from fanciful to pragmatic and serious.

Needless to say, all I have wanted to do for the past couple of days is hide in bed and pull the covers over my head until this all passes (I hope) in a couple of months. For some reason, they won't pay me to go into emotional denial, so here I sit. It's beginning to take a toll on me, all of it. The insane workloads, the side conversations, the uncertainty of what hit we will take next. I'm having a tough time sleeping, and my shoulders are so tight I have to make a conscious effort to put them down instead of having them hunched up by my ears.

Husband for some reason doesn't get the stress right now, even though we have been in a similar place with him at other jobs. I just need a distraction, a hug, a squeeze of the hand. Instead, he gets mad at the situation, which really doesn't help me too much. His staunch refusal to even consider me getting a different job isn't helping either-I hate feeling trapped, but right now, that about sums it up.

This sucks.

What to do?

OK, I've been in a bit of a funk lately. Admittedly, I have what could be termed a rather full plate-2 young kids, a job that is more demanding than I want or care it to be, and just trying to hold myself together in spite of it all can be a full time occupation if allowed. I'm not even sure if anyone really reads this thing, and despite the fact that I have repeated to myself over and over again that I'm not Sally Field at the Oscars, and that this is just supposed to be my place to vent and rejoice as the situation calls for (albeit in a public forum), I'm wondering if I'm not just another boring voice contributing to the overall din of the internet. Am I just another one of those self-indulgent idiots that just types to read their own prose?

So, if you're out there, I could really use some chiming in on the situation I'm about to explain, because, quite honestly, I'm more than a bit in a quandry. The sad thing is, this is really one of the least of my problems, but it is the one that I can actively work on by myself and find some conclusion. At least I have some control-that's not the case in some of the other things that have been going on. But I digress.

As I mentioned a while ago, we've had a substantial shake-up in my department at work. I had thought/hoped/prayed that things would settle down and that we could all get back to just doing our work. The work loads are large-someone in a firm would most likely blanch and fall over. In a nutshell, we have waaaaaay too much to do to be engaged in high school theatrics. Apparently, I'm the only one who views it this way.

So, last week we were all in the same place for the first time since everything happened, including NewManager. He's still trying, with very limited success, at pulling all of this off. I don't know if he has any idea about the tumult going on around him. If he does, he's pulling the most adept acting job in the group. Unfortunately, I'm pretty sure that I'm wrong on that point. Regardless, one of the co-conspirators, DL, had been talking to me prior to the meeting, and kept telling me that a "bombshell" was in the works, but that honor and a promise to the third party to keep quiet prevented him from telling me what it was. I shopped around some theories, but none of them seemed very plausible. We have a small cast of characters here, soI couldn't for the life of me figure it out.

All was revealed to me by said third party on our last night; he's leaving to go join our former boss in Europe to take, what is in essence his dream job, working for someone who is very respected in our field. He's lived abroad before, his wife is European, and he wasn't interested in staying here to see what happens. I should have known that this was the case; he's usually not one to cause waves, but he had been pretty quiet, even for him, since this all broke open. I can't blame him. It is a great opportunity, and after being passed over for the job that NewManager has (at least provisionally for the time being), he didn't see the point in staying.

All of this will cause me considerable grief. Since our coverage areas were in the same technical area, but simply split up, I'll most likely end up with all of his cases. The portfolio isn't huge, but since I already have the second largest chunk (which should scare everyone, by the way) of the entire portfolio, adding more is not something either I or my admin are looking forward to. Secondly, he has substantial responsibilities in the support of a new business effort. This particular business unit is a challenge, and is still very much in flux. They are a conglomoration of small companies that we have acquired over the past two or three years, and to say that they aren't used to having in-house legal is an understatement. Honestly, it could/would be a lot of fun to handle-I like the challenge and getting in on the ground floor to help shape strategy and put processes in place. However, if piled on top of everything else that I have to deal with, it comes down to being stretched too thin-to the point of tearing.

OK, so it comes down to this. When I was in California, I told the head of the legal group about my concerns. I hope that he took me seriously, since I usually am the one that puts my head down and trys to make the best of whatever situation I'm in. One of the concerns was that with this change, the career advancement/growth that my manager and I had talked about was probably going to be hitting the skids. I've always had a problem with touting myself-I'm a great advocate for others or for a cause, but for me, not so much. The head of legal, K, told me that he had considered that I might fill the empty director's spot that NewManager had vacated. Part of me was thrilled, but the other part is worried that I won't be allowed to really manage the group, that NewManager, since the site used to be his baby, will micro-manage me into ineffectiveness. Oh, and the kicker? One of the other attorneys who is at that site has already said that he doesn't think that I deserve the position, since he's a far better lawyer than I am with more experience. In my defense, he may have more years, but since NewManager doesn't delegate anything, OtherAttorney hasn't seen half of what I have. It hurt to hear that. On top of some of the other things that I've been dealing with lately, it was enough to push me into a sniffle-fest on the drive home. What the hell do I have to do? Not like I'm not insecure enough about my abilities.

The other option is the director's position that will open up when my current manager, D, leaves. He's at another site, but if we could fill his position with a another lawyer, it wouldn't be a problem for me to take that spot and stay where I am. To me, this makes the most sense-I have a familiarity with the clients, and they with me. I wouldn't have to change technology focus (which I would have to in order to take NewManager's slot) and it would really be an easy transition. However, I'm not overly hopeful here. An email went out from NewManager today announcing D's departure at the end of the month, and that the powers that be were "analyzing" what the next steps would be. I wasn't in the office today, since I was home with BabyA due to a daycare lockout (she vomited twice yesterday, and she had to stay vomit-free for 24 hours before she could go back), so if anyone tried to get hold of me, they were out of luck.

So, what is my quandry? Well, it can be broken down to a couple of different things:

• do I even want the job? It will require more time and effort, and I'm struggling as it is. However, part of the struggle has been from a lack of motivation. Why continue to bust my ass when I don't ever get anything resembling an 'atta girl? You can only continue to give for so long. It may be different if I can actually control my destiny, at least to some degree. It would also be fun to have a chance to expand my skill set with some new challenges. However, it may also mean more travel, which is not something I am prepared for right now. I know that we could make it work, but my babies....
• what if I don't get one of them? There are a couple of openings at other companies in the metro. I've also been presented with an open door to work from home and write for one of my outside counsel. One of those deals where I work as much as I want to make. I'm just not so sure that I have the discipline to do that. There is also the down side of no benefits. I've been self-insured before, and well, it sucks.

I guess it comes down to having really been thinking about what I want-40 is looming, and what have I done? I used to be a rising star, and then things stalled out. Did I get complacent? Does it even matter anymore? I don't want to be absent from my kids, but there will be a point when they don't need me that much anymore, and then I'm afraid that when I look up, I'll be beyond the point of making anything of myself.

I just don't know what to do. Some of it is out of my hands, and that is the hardest thing to handle. I plan on kicking the tires on the other positions at the different companies, if anything to brush up on my interviewing skills (if I can even manage to get an interview-most places have a hard time with with me not having an engineering degree, one of those things expected from a patent attorney. I still think I'm doing pretty darn well as a self-taught engineer, thank you.). I just don't want to continue on continuing on. I think I may deserve more than that.

Oh, it just gets better

To complete my tale of woe from Monday, to say that Son has had a rough couple of weeks is an understatement.

When I dropped him off on Monday, I was told that there was an incident report for me to sign. Sick as it was, I was praying that it was that Son had been the victim. Easier to deal with a child who is the victim, right? Nope, Son and his archenemy got into it again, and Son bit him. Fabulous. Considering that archenemy left a great dental imprint on him a couple of weeks ago, it didn't surprise me much. Not that I like it, but those two have been butting heads for a while now (Archenemy is near Son's age and is just about his size, so the two are at least compatible, right?).

Yesterday (Thursday) I walked in to find a sunny Son playing in the large muscle room, and I let out the exhale and thought that he had had a good day. Far from it.

I had let him bring two of his matchbox cars that day. He kept them in his pocket, and things were OK. Well, not so much. Apparently, one of the younger kids wanted to look at the car, and out of the blue, Son just whacked him over the head with said car. To the tune of bleeding, and a trip to the ER for liquid stitches. I almost cried right then and there. Where is my sweet little boy? The same boy who had, just the night before, consoled a cranky pre-toddler who had been wailing away in BabyA's room while BabyA had been changed. The same kid who went and found a toy and offered it to her, and stood next to the exersaucer she was parked in to make sure that she was OK?

Son has been a holy terror lately, and I'm afraid that he has inherited the innate tendencies towards having a temper like Husband and I both do. I don't want him to feel that he can't show anger-that's just begging for other issues to pop up, but we really need to find a way to help him control it. I talked to the lead teacher of Son's group this morning, to see if this is an escalating trend, or if it was an off day, or what. She said that he hadn't eaten that day (strange), took a really long nap (very strange), and just was off. He had a timeout for running when he was told not to (pretty much the same routine that he pulled at BabyA's baptism, a tale that will scare anyone from having more than one child). She's pretty convinced that he's just going through a tough phase right now. I shared with her that he had woke up screaming last night after a nightmare, and that it had taken over an hour to get him calmed back down. He woke up pretty chipper this morning, but said that he didn't want to go to school, that he wanted to go see Daddy at work. We had yet another dropoff where he had to be peeled off of me. It hurts my heart to see him in pain, and really torpedoes my day. By the time I left, he had calmed down (I can see into his room from BabyA's infant room) and seemed to be doing OK. It's a good thing that its Friday.

I don't know how to handle this. On the one hand, it could be a phase, and he is struggling, like most toddlers do, with the concepts of sharing, and he is pushing every limit that he can find. Normal, yet infuriating, two year-old behavior. On the other hand, is he on his way to being one of those aggressive kids that other people blog about hurting their kids? If I were his victim's mom, I would want Son's head on a platter, regardless of any base understanding of toddler behavior-he hurt my kid.

I don't want to make the punishment go overboard, and last night there were no cars to play with, just dinner (ate like a bird again-1/4 of an apple and some milk), bath, and bed. The bath was horrible, screaming and uncontrollable sobbing. I ended up taking over for Husband, who clearly was nearing his limits, got Son calmed down and dressed. Husband then took over (BabyA needed to go to bed too) and read him a few books and put him down.

I think that the whole thing was bothering him, as well as our reaction. I don't want to go overboard on it, because he's smart enough to sense when we are mad. He's actually said in the past that "Daddy is mad at me" and that because he was mad, "Daddy doesn't love me." We have to start operating on the understanding that he is assimilating a whole lot more now, but doesn't have all of the skills to process it. That means that Husband has to think, actually think, about what is on TV, what he says. It finally sunk in last night that Son does pick up on it, that it does make a difference. We will be making some changes, and hopefully that, with some time, will help us over this hump.

However, the nightmares are beginning to freak me out a bit. He keeps talking about a "man" in his room. He can't articulate what scares him so much. This morning he was talking about how the man scared him, and how he told him "no." No to what I don't know, and he wouldn't/couldn't say. I have a feeling that he is having a recurring nightmare, but can't tell us enough about it to clear it from his mind. I understand how vivid they can be at this age-I still remember the one that I had around his age and a little older. It actually resurfaced while I was in law school. Obviously, it made an impression on me, and I can't help but wonder if it isn't a similar thing. Last night was the first night that he hadn't slept through since before he was a year old. I'm not liking the idea of a major sleep regression here. Hopefully, if we start to stick to the routine a bit more strictly, and work more on the winding down once we get home at night, it will help.

I'm just worried about my little boy. I love that creature so much, and miss that happy face. This whole parenting thing forces you to wear your heart on your sleeve, and boy, mine is sure getting beat up.

Back at work

Yesterday wasn't too bad-crammed full, but not too bad. Let's see, up at 3:30 AM with BabyA, put back to bed, sleep for 45 more minutes, get read, get kids ready, two kids out the door, fed, clothed (it even all matched!), dog in the back of the truck.

Stop at vet, drop off Yellow Dog of the Double Ear Infection and A Massive Allergic Reaction to Target Rawhide for a recheck. Drop off kids (good God, I really do have two of these creatures-who knew?), get to work, boot up laptop, blue screen of death.

Call IT, bad hard drive, new hard drive, delete 800 emails-no, I'm not kidding-pick up Son's pictures, pick up kids from daycare, pick up Yellow Dog from vet, go home, feed BabyA, feed myself (sort of), watch 15 minutes of Nemo, put Son into pj's and bed, feed BabyA and put to bed, wash bottles, make two lunches (which of course Husband promptly forgot this morning), make up bottles for tomorrow, wash face, collapse into bed.

Today back up at 5 AM when Husband got up, BabyA started to fuss around 5:15, and we were back off to the races. I should probably be tired by now, but I'm not. However, the mandatory Diet Pepsi this morning may have helped. I still need to go get gas and clean off the truck once before I leave. It's been snowing again since around 7:30 this morning, and when I leave, I just want to get home. I have a feeling the roads aren't going to be a whole lot of fun.

So, that has been about my last 36 hours. How are you?

Why can't time just stand still for a little while?

Just one of those days...again. God, I hate hormones, I hate lurking depression, hate.it.all.

It was one of those days where it took all that I had to leave Son at daycare and walk out the door. He had been in a horrible mood this morning, and everything was sending him into tears. (I guess that we that in common). He's been fighting a cold for over two weeks now, he's tired, his nose is literally raw from all of the wiping, to the point that it bled last night. The only thing that seemed to make him feel better was when I picked him up, wrapped him up in a blanket, gave him his bear, and we stood and looked out the window. I so didn't want to let him go-I feel like time is this relentless force, and that our chance moments of quiet like that are slipping through my fingers, never to be recaptured.

My little boy needed me, and I had to walk out the door.

It felt like the first day when I had to leave him. Will he get the cuddles that he needs, the hugs? Will they know that he just needs/wants to crawl into their lap and look at a book, or just lean back into them while holding his blanket? Will they know? Will they care?

I'm probably being overly dramatic about all of this. I carried him in this morning, and by the time we got his blanket put away, and his coat off, he was looking with great interest at the play area. All of his friends were there. I gave him another hug, and set him down on the other side of the wall. His friend M, who is like a sister (they are six weeks apart and have been together since he started at the center) offered him a toy, and he didn't look back for me. To see the two of them together is actually comforting. They are a pair of contrasts; for as big and blond as he is, she is dark and petite. They seek each other out for comfort, and he is her protector.

I know that he's in a good place, but I still have those days where I hate the fact that I can't be with him more. There's no way that I can ever stay home. I'm the primary income for us. Working in the corporate area, the likelihood of me every swinging part-time is so low that I don't even consider it. There are times that I resent it so much. Today is one of those days.

In the end, I don't know if I could do it as a stay at home. I'm not that social, and Son would be stuck with me all day. All the enrichment activities in the world are no substitute for being around other kids. He's social, and he is learning new things every day. I just hate that other people get so much of him. Before I know it, he won't want to be held with a blanket and a bear. Then what? I won't get that time back. I think that's what is hitting me the most. I want to burn that picture of my beautiful blond boy running to me with the biggest smile in my mind so I never lose it. I'm just so terrified of missing something.

The thought of having to do this again with another child is really eating at me right now. I feel as though I lose a piece of me each day that I have to leave them. What I look forward to is having to do it again. Leaving a newborn. It's the hardest thing to do. And the kicker is, the U.S. wants to reduce our benefits even more. It's hard enough to have to take six of the twelve weeks unpaid. We don't live beyond our means, but to take any more time than that is not financially possible.

So, here I sit in my office crying, stifling the urge to leave with my keys, and take my son home. I just miss him so much. Why can't time just stand still for a little while?