Just another WordPress.com weblog
The kids have been sick since a couple days following their H1N1 shots. I expect they picked up something in the lobby. That just isn’t fair. Looks like we might miss the festivities in the interest of keeping extended family well.
Bummer. Alas, we have veggie burgers here too.
I had a very good set of interviews this past Tuesday. Quiet space, pull-your-own-weight culture, award-winning campaigns. Love.
Good to have the complication of an upcoming Wednesday interview with different focus, different atmosphere, and many, many friends.
Change is good. Hoping to have something special to be thankful for next week.
No painter Friday or today. Well, at least we’ve gained the paint for a do-it-ourselves spring.
Deep in thought while eating a chicken strip, #1 said, “When I was a baby, I was inside your tummy.”
I confirmed this and told him that I’d loved that time.
He added, “Yeah, and I gave you hugs from the inside.”
With a big smile, I said, “Yes, yes you did.”
A recent jail release made one of the subcontracted painters available to return to our project. There may be something to the feng shui belief that improvements to your front entrance can lead to career improvements. The barrel arch and railings were in progress when I was called for a same-day interview. Later, in the same week, I received another interview request. Certainly, I take some responsibility as well. Hard work, appropriate targeting, and networking also played into this, of course. Still, It might be a good idea for us to improve our home office (wealth).
I’m getting out more. Our family cleared most of the leaves from our yard today. The love of my life did ALL of the raking. The rest of us helped to load and stomp tarps full of leaves into the trailer.
Last night, I took the stage for an improvisational slide presentation in front of a bar full of potential employers. During a food slide, I got stuck in the realization that I hadn’t eaten dinner. Other than that, it was good fun. I made a few contacts and learned of a weekly creative workspace that I’m very excited about.
After more than a month of not returning our calls — the contractor sent a new painter to our doorstep, without warning, on Monday, October 26. If he’d been a cartoon, he would have had a puffed-out chest, untied shoes, and a backwards painting cap with racing stripes.
He criticized the accent color while tucking his head and raising his arms to the sides and said, “I’m just calling it how I see it.” When I mentioned concern about the weather, he assured me that our high-quality paint could be safely applied at temperatures as low as 35 degrees (cans say 50 degrees). He pointed to a 80’s-looking sports car that only a football player would drive and said, “Hey, I know what I’m doing, I painted that myself.”
He seemed confused by my direction about the colors. So to make his quote a little easier, I clarified that the unpainted parts needed to be painted (apparently not obvious to him) and to not touch our house without specific permission from us (which will never happen).
The ladders are still cabled to our tree.
During our crazed yesterday, I vowed to ensure nap time for the children today. #1 was willing and able. #2 resisted through two books and was asked to close his eyes for the third (this usually helps). I thought he was out when he looked at me and asked, “May I open my eyes just long enough for a kiss?”. Heart swell.
Yesterday, I was absolutely on edge. Everything and everyone was wrong. I thought my lack of sleep had really caught up with me because I really wasn’t fit companionship for even myself. And when I’m off, it’s contagious. In the afternoon, a family member shared some really tough news. Though full of compassion, I didn’t know what to say. But when we got off the phone, it all seemed to make sense. The tension had a purpose and direction.
This morning I felt a similar swell when I couldn’t find the scrub brush I’d been using to clean some of the basement fall-out (from the removal and replacement of the two levels above it). I knew the tension wasn’t rational and I really didn’t want to infect my loved ones.
So I invented a low-budget sensory deprivation technique. I crowned myself with industrial ear-protection earmuffs, closed the door to our room, stair-stepped two pillows, crawled under the covers, and began to listen to my body. When all of the sounds around you are canceled out, it’s amazing to realize all of the squeaks and pulses of your body. When I relaxed my jaw, the squeak of my muscles softened. Again with my neck, my shoulders, my arms. My breathing changed as I felt myself flatten into the bed. Amazing. 25 minutes later, I remembered where I’d left the tweezers and was finally able to extract a bothersome chin hair.
Thank you, A.R. for the reminder to focus inward from time to time.
I heard the door open before #1 yelled, “Mommy, I need to go poopy.” I ran to his aide only to meet his stop hand. He said, “Mommy, I need some privacy, OK?” I stood giggling outside the door and assisted with clean-up upon request. Ahh, three.
