A blog lost

Where the heck have I been?

Sitting at my desk, butt glued to the chair, analyzing a 35 by 45 matrix of answers (about a topic I can't discuss). I have worked my arse off the last two weeks. There were low points--competency low points--when I felt, can I really do this? But today, after countless emails, more phone calls with my boss, tweaking and parsing, I received this email:

"Huge thanks for a very hard job well done."

A literal weight has been lifted from my shoulders. Days ago I told Craig, "This job makes me act like the mother of a newborn. I don't shower until the afternoon. I'm irritable and anxious, and I'm not sleeping at night."

And I'm probably going to do it all over again. Perhaps I'm crazy, or more likely I'm actually happy to have a job where my skills are appreciated. A huge thanks is due to my mother-in-law who landed me the job. Who would have thought? She did, and I'm deeply grateful for her confidence.

Alright, so where does this leave poor old Two Little Ladybugs? Well, Halloween is tomorrow, and I could care less that I live in a place where Halloween gives people the willies (being Satan's holiday and all). We will be celebrating. I will dust off my camera (I've missed you camera. I'm sorry you've been abandoned) and take pictures of Laura Ingalls and Princess Leia. I will gorge on all the halloween candy my kids don't like (and some that they do--snickers are mine). But mostly I will breathe deeply, relax, and feel thankful for my family.

Happy Halloween, ya'll. I hope you have been well.

Happy New Year, from us

Last night we went downtown to watch the Cherry Blossom drop (it's Macon, of course, it's a Cherry Blossom). Last night was the first time we've been out for New Year's Eve since our trip to Paris five years ago. I know, I know, we need to get out more. Minutes before midnight I closed my eyes and tilted my head toward the stars. I have so many hopes for 2011, and more that a few sorries that I'd like to leave behind. Out with the old and in with the good, I say. Let's start this year right.

I don't want to chuck 2010 though. The truth is that it was an amazing year for us, and the highlights are many. Grace completed her first year of elementary school (how did she get to be so big!). I had a four month freelance job (the longest and most rewarding in recent memory) that funded our summer adventure. Julia embraced being three with gusto ("No, I not a dictator!"), and Craig managed to push his research even further, publishing with and engaging undergraduates in ways he never imagined. Our year ended on a rough note (two bronchial infections for my parents with a long, long recovery), but I can't help but be incredibly hopeful for 2011.

However you celebrated, wherever you were, I hope you rang in the New Year with high hopes and love. Happy New Year everyone, from us.

A little bit of this, a little bit of that

First a complaint:

Dear Delta Airlines,

When you tell a customer that the price of his or her ticket (for a trip that you cancelled) has been refunded, you should actually process that refund. When the customer calls again to ask about the refund, which has not appeared on his or her credit card statement, you should own up to the fact that you didn't do your job AND THEN PROCESS THE REFUND. Finally, when the customer calls a third time because you haven't processed the refund, don't tell them "the case" has been referred to the refund department because that means the first two phone calls were full of LIES.

You see, we understood that our tickets had been fully refunded, so we went ahead and purchased BRAND NEW TICKETS for a trip scheduled for next week. Had we known that you had NEVER processed our original refund, we simply would have rescheduled the original tickets. And while I understand that $900 isn't much to you, being a big corporation and all, it is a lot of money to us.

Sincerely,

Screwed Customer

PS. We are currently disputing the charges with American Express. Maybe you'll listen to them.

......

Now a question:

If you buy a box of two bite brownies on sale (for a whopping 70% off), does that means the calories are 70% less as well? I ask this because I ate half a box yesterday, and I'm really hoping the answer is yes.

......

Now something technical:

An unknown thingamabob is broken on my camera. It will cost me $150 to have Canon take a look at it. I dread what the actual cost to repair the thingamabob will be. This is sad because there will be NO PICTURES of ridiculously adorable children--at least in the eyes of their parents--for many weeks to come.

......

Now something work related:

I think I forgot to post that my contract has been extended. Yippee. Or so I thought. Unfortunately, I have yet to be paid for the month of February. Please tell me this is an oversight. Otherwise, spending $1700 on two sets of airplane tickets is going to really suck.

......

And finally a bit of happiness:

1. Julia has officially renamed herself Julia Love. I love that kid.

2. Each night at dinner Grace announces that the meal before her is "the most wonderful dinner ever", and then she proceeds to clean her plate. This from the kid who survived on air alone when she was two. Happiness indeed.

rattle, rattle, creak

That's my brain. I'm in need of mental lubrication in the form of caffeine. Lots going on. Lots to think about and not think about. Here's a snapshot:

1. Day five without diapers. One accident today and the belated discovery of the reason our living room smells like poo.

2. Do I still have a job or not? On Wednesday it was yes! On Thursday it was no or maybe not. On Friday it was I don't know. Today it is yes, but. I'm moving forward on the assumption that the "but" part won't mean a pay cut.

3. My parents have returned to Michigan. I've been moping since they left. I feel this overwhelming sense of sadness when I think about them returning to a place they no longer wish to be. Being the middle child (and responsible for the happiness of THE ENTIRE WORLD), their situation pains me. Of course add to that a major malfunction in my middle-child-spidey-sense-for-the-sensitivities-of-others, and I made my mom cry before she left. I continue to feel like a heel about that particular fail in my otherwise spectacular middle child super hero capabilities.

4. Someone dumped a house in my neighborhood. You laugh. You think I'm joking. After all, how does one dump a house? With a rig I suppose, but dump one they did. Don't worry, pictures to come. This take littering to a whole new level.

5. Last Thursday Grace got to read the morning announcements to the entire school over closed circuit TV. I got to be in the sound booth with her. Cue my tears.

6. Drumroll....Craig and I are going on a date tonight. Six months ago we promised each other one date per month. This is date number two. You do the math.

What I didn't do

1. hyperventilate
2. say anything inappropriate
3. turn bright red
4. or otherwise embarrass myself

What I did do
1. wake at 3:30 am
2. stay awake for the rest of the night
3. admit to my boss that I'm phobic about public speaking
4. found out that he is too

I also gave my presentation, and it wasn't as horrible as I imagined, and I did relax (as everyone told me I would). So what's next? The REAL presentation to the PRESIDENT of the University.

I think I'll pee my pants over that one.

hyperventilate

Because...ohmygod I have so much to do and not enough time and I spent two weeks writing a 72 page report and I had my big meeting yesterday and now they want me to present my results and CRAP I'm a writer not a talker and they want me to talk IN FRONT OF OTHER PEOPLE and I don't do that but I have to do that and I don't want to.

Because...it's already mid december and we don't have a tree or anything related to christmas done and when will it get done because I HAVE TO TALK TO REAL ADULTS ON MONDAY and I wanted to get our tree and drink egg nog and be merry and now I'm all I CAN'T GIVE A PRESENTATION didn't they know I'M A WRITER NOT A TALKER.

Because..I turn scarlet red when I have to talk to people and I have no control over this and the simple fact that I turn red makes me more embarrassed than you can imagine and I HATE being embarrassed and did I mention that I'm a writer and not a talker unless you mean one on one and then I probably talk too much.

Because...I have to put together a power point and I haven't made one in five years so the one I make this weekend will be CRAP and my talk will be TERRIBLE and I will turn red and be EMBARRASSED and if I don't start breathing soon I will pass out.

Return Monday afternoon to see if I am still alive or dead from hyperventilation.

PS. If you came for news about Grammie-Bonnie. She was here and allowed me the time to write said 72 page report. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I promise to write more about her visit when I get past this spell.

Let's whine. Part II

1. We've moved on from a cold to an ear infection (thanks everyone for clarifying the differences between a cold and flu).

1. Grace came down with Julia's cold on Saturday. She's now moved on from a cold to an ear infection in both ears. And a raging fever. And body aches "ALL OVER, MOMMY."

2. Two weeks ago I paid to have Julia go to school for an extra three days a week, which, at this point, means I've paid some crazy amount for the TWO extra days that she actually made it to school.

2. Two and half weeks ago I started a new job. Since starting that job both of my kids have been sick. Both of my kids have been absent from school. I do not have childcare outside of my spouse. You figure it out.

3. I have PMS, and I don't need to explain why that's a whine.

3. I'm having my period. Need I say more.

4. After yesterday's work meeting, I have A LOT of stuff to do. And this is a whine because of Number 1.

4. I have meetings every day this week. This would be complicated with well kids. This is a disaster with sick kids. The only thing keeping me afloat is Craig, and the only way he's doing it is by canceling office hours and ditching his job. This is not a long term solution. I have yet to find a babysitter who will care for sick kids. Do they exist?

5. Grace's Kindergarten teacher sent a note home saying Grace needs to do a better job coloring in the lines. Is she serious? It took a lot of restraint to not write back, "this is effing riciculous". Yes, that's PMS talking. I wish I could show Mrs. S the hundreds of coloring pages we have laying around the house where the detail in Grace's coloring blows my mind. Grace doesn't color in the lines on her work sheets because it's boring. When she's bored she rushes through things. How do I know this? She's EXACTLY like her dad. He does the same thing.

5. I'm coming down with their cold. I need my mom.

.......
7:46pm

And my grandma is dying, so you really don't need to read all of the bs I listed above. I can't quite come up with words for this now, which is okay because my limited vocabulary won't allow me to adequately describe this essential woman. A woman for whom I owe a great debt of love and gratitude.

What really bums me out...

Is the lack of candy around here. As much as I like halloween, I wasn't crushed that we didn't go trick or treating. I've had my hands full with sick kids, finding time to work, cleaning sticky surfaces, the usual. By the time Saturday came around I was working on a sore throat and stressing about Monday (today, which went well thanks to my child wrangling husband), so it wasn't until this afternoon, when I got a hankering for hunk of chocolate, that it hit me: We have NO CANDY.

Now I have to rifle through Grace's backpack to make sure she doesn't have any leftovers from her fall party. It's a cruel, cruel world.

Let's whine.

1. We've moved on from a cold to an ear infection (thanks everyone for clarifying the differences between a cold and flu).

2. Two weeks ago I paid to have Julia go to school for an extra three days a week, which, at this point, means I've paid some crazy amount for the TWO extra days that she actually made it to school.

3. I have PMS, and I don't need to explain why that's a whine.

4. After yesterday's work meeting, I have A LOT of stuff to do. And this is a whine because of Number 1.

5. Grace's Kindergarten teacher sent a note home saying Grace needs to do a better job coloring in the lines. Is she serious? It took a lot of restraint to not write back, "this is effing riciculous". Yes, that's PMS talking. I wish I could show Mrs. S the hundreds of coloring pages we have laying around the house where the detail in Grace's coloring blows my mind. Grace doesn't color in the lines on her work sheets because it's boring. When she's bored she rushes through things. How do I know this? She's EXACTLY like her dad. He does the same thing.

Whine over. Drs. appointment next.

thoughts on a rainy day

It's rainy and cold, for Georgia, that is. The high today is 55, and the rain hasn't let up for a minute. Julia is super boogery, and I can't help but cradle her, as helpless as she is while sick. Whenever she sneezes, she whines, "it hurts, hold me." Who am I to deny her, and though I wish illness weren't the reason for her constant snuggles, I love every second. Grace teetered on the edge of coming down with this bug--the bags under her eyes were enormous--but school seemed to cure her. I'm snuffly too, but mostly because the house is chilly. I'm not yet ready to heat our eleven foot high ceilings.

Tomorrow I have a meeting for work. Yes, work. I need to do that sometime. Craig will have to watch the little bug. She'll enslave him as she always does. He always knew he would have girls. I suspect he didn't understand how willing he would be to do their bidding. Post meeting I'll need to make contacts and actually get out of the house. Hooray. For Work. And Being Out of the House.

I'm in a good place about Macon. Surprised? No, it didn't happen because of work, though employment does help. I was driving myself insane (and Craig too). THIS IS WHERE WE LIVE! WHY BE MISERABLE! I've made a concerted effort to focus on the beauty of this crumbling southern town. Yes, it's dirty and poor and there's a whole lot of misery to tap into, but I'm not going to do it. We have an exceedingly simple life. How come I forget that so easily?

Calling in sick

I've been working for a whole week, and already my kid is home sick. Well, actually, this is the second day she's been home sick. The first day was last Wednesday, but she was back in school the very next day. The bug she has now looks like a longer term illness. Is it a cold? The flu? How do you tell the difference? It's a serious question. If anyone can enlighten me, I would appreciate it.

The last time I had the flu, I was in such a sorry state that my mother in law had to fly down to take care of us. Kids are different with illnesses. Grace had a urinary tract infection for nearly a month before she had any notable symptoms. Julia will have a raging fever, the kind that requires tepid baths, and the next day she'll be chipper.

In any case, I'm not getting any work done, which is okay. Instead, I have time to mindlessly search the internet for the meaning of life or watch hours of PBS kids. I'll probably do both. For your enjoyment (when you're done instructing me on the difference between a cold and the flu), here are some pictures I took of the girls this weekend. We went in search of the perfect pumpkin. Did you know that there's a particular method to choose one? Hold your head to it and listen (Grace and Julia demonstrate this technique in the photos).

I don't know how to write a blog post because...

1. I got a job, and it's all I can think about at the moment.

and

2. I got a job, can you believe it? And they're going to pay me real money, not play money, real money, and I don't know what to do with real money.

and

3. When they told me the salary I gasped and said, "that's too much." So now you know exactly how much of an idiot I can be.

and

4. Julia will start going to school five days a week, and I don't feel guilty about it, but I hope that she likes it.

and

5. I've never done what they want me to do for this job, and I'm really, really nervous.

and

6. I'm easily embarrassed. When I asked why they might want me for the position, they paid me HUGE compliments, like I'm some sort of competent person. I'm so glad I didn't turn red and pass out in the office.

and

7. I start tomorrow, but first I have to go shopping because "job" equals interacting with other adults, and I can't do that in sweats and a stained t-shirt.

I confess

I'm lazy.
I hate working.

I'm having a really hard time working on the freelance job I landed months ago. The final product isn't due until July, but I haven't put more than 15 hours into it thus far. I can't get myself to work on it. Truth is that I don't really like writing grants, at least not biomedical grants.

I got into grant writing after we moved from Ohio. I had limited grants experience, yet somehow I convinced an employer to take a chance. I didn't love that job, but the pay was reasonable. For the most part I edited NIH proposals, but I also wrote a few grants myself from scratch. They were funded. My employer was happy. I got a raise. Then I got pregnant. And then I stopped working.

My former employer was generous and understanding and continued to send me grants to edit. This money funded vacations and sometimes groceries--Craig was still in grad school when Grace was born. Those opportunities began to dry up when we moved to Macon, but I didn't much care. I had another child, and my life seemed pretty full. Of course, a contented state always leaves me feeling I need more. Opportunity knocked, and another grant, my current job, landed in my lap.

I should be happy for the work. Writing grants takes me as far away from mommyland as I can ever get. This alone should provide ample motivation, and yet here I am blogging instead of working. What's wrong with me? Well, for one, this grant is a whole lot more involved than I bargained. At the initial meeting the principal investigator told me there was a wealth of material (including previously unfunded grant applications) that I could pull text from. Turns out those old grants have absolutely NOTHING to do with the current application and are completely outdated. Ughhh. Old grants out, I turn to the available literature on this particular subject, and (double ughhh) I could read until my eyes bleed and not have a realistic clue about what I should write.

In a nutshell, I'm screwed, and so I procrastinate. Ever so slowly, however, I'm coming to a realization: I have to contact the lead investigator and explain my dilemma. Craig, forever my champion, is incredulous that I'm even attempting to write this grant. His words were along the lines of, "It's crazy to think that you (a geologist by training) should write the research and design portion of an NIH grant. You're not an MD!" Like that's a news flash. He's right of course. I'm just kicking myself for not realizing earlier that I suck this job is way over my pay scale.

The upside of exhaustion

I had an interview yesterday, and if I could have chosen a day NOT to have an interview, it would have been yesterday.

After two cups of coffee, breakfast, and a shower I felt no more human than when I awoke. Somehow, while caring for my ill child, I managed to straighten my hair, dress myself in an outfit without stains, and make it to the interview on time. On any other day I would have been nervous. On any other day my skin would have flushed to advertise my nerves, but yesterday my fatigue overwhelmed whatever anxiety I had. I breezed through the interview and landed another contract.

When I came home, Craig asked "How'd it go?"

"Well. I got the contract, and if it goes well, this may become a full time position."

"That's great, honey."

"Yeah, I guess it is."

The upside of exhaustion was an interview without anxiety. The downside of exhaustion was landing a job without celebration.

Freaking tired

Too many late nights. I won't say too much work because I like the money, but fitting the time in to get the job done is a struggle. Hence freaking tired.

NIH grant finished three days ago. Howard Hughes due tomorrow.

Very little time for blogging around here.