Working for the weekend

I posted that video yesterday, more as an invitation for you to go to animoto.com and make your own, than a look how freakin' cute my girls are and look what a busy mom I am. Please forgive me, if I unintentionally hurt any feelings.

After a dear friend questioned how I had the time to participate in so many activities, I boldly stated that I tried to limit the girls to one activity a week each. To which, Erik promptly fell over laughing hysterically. He then proceeded to list six things I had lined of for this week alone. Girl Scouts, math maniacs, ballet, soccer practice...the list goes on.

So on Saturday, my schedule is shaping up to include:

Gym - Childcare is available from 8 - 12.

Soccer - Game 10 am (Conflict with Parent Workshop)

Parent Workshop - This is being held at the local High School. The topics seem interesting. For each seminar you attend child gets a free no uniform or no homework pass. (Conflict with Soccer & Gym)

Crow Museum of Asian Art - There's some special hand's on activities from 12-4.



And the one I'm most excited about, The Asylum Street Spankers are playing an early show at the Granada - 5 pm doors.


Too much? My money is not on the gym.

As a side note, Erik strongly discourages me from taking the girls almost everywhere alcohol is served. He started listing his perceived set list for the show, including almost every song from Spanker Madness. Sex, drugs, rock n' roll. My only defense is that the Spankers just released their first children's album Mommy Said No. Hazel has already said she hopes they play

You Only Love Me For My Lunchbox

.

Proof that I have spare time

What's 5 years among friends

I get a certain amount of grief for working outside the home. The other day, it was delivered with a sucker punch to the gut. Hazel lamented the fate of her good friend, let's call her Kate.

"Kate's mom retired when Kate was born!" Hazel exclaimed as the main argument for her ten zillionth request to be picked up as soon as school was out.

She kept it up, "Kate gets to go to more activities and experiences than I do because her mom retired."

My mind raced with how to answer, how to explain. My first thought: Well, Kate's daddy makes a lot more money than our daddy...was a quick pass. I knew that - well I have no idea how much money he makes, and how would that teach her any thing or sooth her in any way?

I tried to deliver the not so obvious. That I enjoy my job. That I have a successful career. That when she grows up to be a clothing designer/artist/gallery owner/veterinarian I hope she finds as much joy as I have shilling soda water to the masses.

I think we both sensed a certain amount of BS in that statement. So as my mind raced, I grasped for an explanation and blurted out the third thing that came to mind.

"Well, honey, Kate's mom is a lot older than I am."

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

What would you have done?

Tonight's Bedtime Story

So after The Giving Tree and How Much Do I Love You , three tuck-ins and a bazillion kisses, Lula posed the question:

"You know the boy parts? What do they do to make a baby?"

I babbled the facts as a matter-of-factly as I could. Tomorrow she's ready to hit Kindergarten with her new vocabulary words testicles and sperm.

I've always tried to approach the teaching my girls the facts of life, with well, facts. When Hazel was a toddler she had an affinity for butter. If I didn't watch out, I could find her in the kitchen with a stick in her hand. My standard response was, that butter was a condiment. Something that you used to put on other foods.

One day, she toddled over to me with a square wrapper thrust in her chubby fist.

"Wat dis?" she asked.

I looked at the light blue foiled cover and said, "It's a condom."

To which my three year old replied, "Ah, ya spread it on da breads."

CILF?

Who caught 60 Minutes last night?



The story about the new music director of the Los Angeles Philharmonic renewed my interest in classical music. I'm adding that to my reasons to move to LA.

I'll be here all week

Yesterday at the office, I was seeking out a quiet corner from which to make a quick personal call from a land line.

(Happy Valentines Day, honey! I got you a renewal on our Home Owners Warranty.)

There isn't a traditional phone in our conference room, so I scanned the desks and noticed that one was empty, let's say that it was Bob's desk. So I asked the guy that sits next to Bob, "Is Bob gone?" And the guy next to Bob said, "Yes, he went home to get everything ready for his fiancé for Valentines Day." To which I quickly quipped, "It takes a long time to get NAKED!"

Ba-dum-bum!

It's just Lynn

I had the thought recently, that I'm glad that my middle name doesn't start with the letter J.


If it was Julie, Johanna, Jillian, Jane, Joan, Jana, Jamie, or the like, then my initials would be: V J J. And in this day and age, people might take to calling me Va-Jay-Jay. And I wouldn't like that much.


If you're looking for lovey, dovey Valentine's type post story check out what Stef has to say about her husband. I bet he bought her flowers.

The empire strikes back

I am in crap mood. A crap mood, I tell you. And there seems to be very, very little I can do to shake it. So let's get this straight. I haven't been posting because I can't seem to find an eloquent way to describe how much I desire poking stupid people in the eyeball. I keep trying to think positive!! And breathe in love, breathe out peace. I'm trying. People, oh how I am trying.



Don't try, DO!

But WAIT tomorrow is payday! Well, Friday is payday but mine usually goes in the day before.

Let's see where this gets me

Sifting through Kottke.org I found this. I'm going to meditate on these rules for awhile.

immaculate heart college art department rules


(by Sister Corita Kent)

Find a place you trust and then try trusting it for a while.
General duties of a student: pull everything out of your teacher, pull everything out of your fellow students.
General duties of a teacher: pull everything out of your students.
Consider everything an experiment.
Be self-disciplined. This means finding someone wise or smart and choosing to follow them. To be disciplined is to follow in a good way. To be self-disciplined is to follow in a better way.
Nothing is a mistake. There is no win and no fail. There is only make.
The only rule is work. If you work it will lead to something. It’s the people who do all of the work all the time who eventually catch on to things.
Don’t try to create and analyse at the same time. They’re different processes.
Be happy whenever you can manage it. Enjoy yourself. It’s lighter than you think.
“We’re breaking all of the rules. Even our own rules. And how do we do that? By leaving plenty of room for X quantities.” - John Cage.
Helpful hints: Always be around. Come or go to everything always. Go to classes. Read anything you can get your hands on. Look at movies carefully often. Save everything, it might come in handy later.

There should be new rules next week.

Huh?

A meme that I was tagged from by Niobe.

Things I do not get:

1) enough personal emails/letters/phone calls.

2) How I had such a promising career and now it seems be living in a porcelain bowl, surrounded by water near a strong sucking mechanism.

3) The Doodle Bops.

4) When people get a divorce because it is better for the children, but then their priority becomes getting lots of "action". How does this help the children?

5) How in the work place men are rewarded for meeting their parental responsibilities and women must apologize.

6) LOST. The TV show.

7) How I can write lame blog posts when other people write things that are filled with such heart or hilarity.

8) Buffalo styled chicken wings.

9) enough exercise.

10) How people balance work/family successfully.

To camp or not to camp?

I am struggling with whether or not to apply the girls for camp at Shelburne Farms again this summer. Shelburne Farms looks like this:



This will be the fourth year I have entered this camp lottery. The deadline in February 21. The first year they didn't get in. Which only fueled my desire to apply in 2006. They were selected for our last choice and attended half day camp for five days. That was our family vacation, a week away from the Texas heat, enjoying beautiful Vermont and staying at my mother-in-laws house. Oh and we drove. From Texas. Got in the car on a Thursday afternoon and didn't stop until we arrived 28 hours later.

So the summer of 2007, when the girls had secured a 4 day, day camp the week of the 4th of July, we decided to fly. I love me some Shelburne Farms. The only thing better than chasing and catching their beautiful chickens is this:



Their cheese is amazing. Arguably almost worth the trip. Definitely one of my favorite things.

So the trip in July of 2007 was really the only "vacation" I officially took last year. Our luggage was lost. My friend who had come down to visit, left unexpectedly early. By Wednesday we were down to ordinary chicken dinner and the History Channel. I holed up in the guest room and read. I had used four of my precious ten vacation days and after it was all said and done, I honestly didn't have that great of a time. I remember telling anyone who would listen, to please remind me not to do that again. It just didn't feel like a vacation for me.

So here we are attempting to decided if we do or don't in 2008?

Holding on

The girls caught my cold, flu, virus and missed school Monday and Tuesday. They had no business going back to school on Wednesday really, but I only get 5 sick days a year. That and one of my bosses made me promise to come to work on Wednesday.

So the school nurse was kind enough to call Erik to pick Lula up Wednesday afternoon when she was discovered to have a fever. And kinder still to use her nice best voice when she said that Lu was not welcome to come back to school on Thursday. And even kinder to use invisible ink to call us out specifically in the the weekly newsletter with the reminder that children must be fever free for 24 hours before returning to school and using tylenol to keep the fever down, that DOES NOT COUNT.

So all day Thursday, Lula accompanied me at my place of employment. And how that child is TRAINED! I swear, it is not the mom in me saying that, that kid was good. Of course having access to Club Penguin, NickJr.com and several Disney DVDs helps. I took her to lunch at a place with an indoor play space and as we trudged up the stairs to endure the second half of the work day, I could tell something was amiss.

I did not get the memo that Thursday was Bring You Daughter To The Great Work Lay-Off Day. As we made our way to my desk, it was hard not to notice the the man behind me and the woman next to me emptying the contents of their desks into boxes.

So there we sat. Lula coloring and me waiting - filled with impending doom. After my ex-coworkers departures, my boss's boss gathered everyone together to give "the speech". A speech to which Lula had a front row seat. Through every word I sat paralyzed praying that my five year old wouldn't pick THAT moment to ask the funny looking white haired man to keep it down, couldn't he see she was trying to color! Or worse.

I have had such a struggle navigating the waters of working outside the home. I hope that it gets easier. Because holding on to the jobs we have is a top priority for the Johnson's.