I want an Ice Cream ball...

So apparently I was in some kind of hole, or under the metaphoric rock when this gadget came out. Why did someone not send me the memo on the Ice-Cream ball? You put ice and rock salt in one end, your ice cream mix in the other, and then you just play with the thing (rolling, tossing, spinning), for 10-15 minutes, and WAH-LAH! You've got yourself a fresh batch of homemade ice cream! I ran across it on my regular evening perusal of Amazon.com, and found myself reaching for my Visa within seconds. What a brilliant thing! If anyone has one already, you must tell me about it....I'm going to be quite the disgruntled consumer if this thing is a dud.

Aside from my joys with the ice-cream ball, I have decided to accept the job offer. Here goes nothing! After I'm done here, I'm going to type up a quick job description for my meeting with the 'Big Man' tomorrow -- just so we're both on the same page about everything, and also so I don't get schmoozled later into something I didn't originally sign on for. Hopefully, all will go well, and I won't have to be put on anti-anxiety pills or have a nervous breakdown.

I just sent an email confirming our portrait session for this weekend with the Muffin. Can you believe he is already almost 15 months old??!! Holy crap -- that means I'm supposed to be getting ready for another one! Hmmm, maybe not so much. I had this lovely timeline in my head for how I wanted my kids to be spaced out, and I thought two years sounded reasonable, but that would mean I would have to be pg in like THREE MONTHS! It seems like I just put my maternity clothes away, god-awful sacks! (No offense, my Canadian cousin, but really, aren't you tired of those panel pants yet? They never stayed up on my belly like they were supposed to, and I felt like I was constantly showing off my stretch marks...) Don't get me wrong, I loved being pregnant. I had a truly wonderful nine months, but still....

Anyway, we're taking him to get his one year (and three months) pictures taken because I'm a super-procrastinator and haven't had any taken since his Six Month (well, really seven and a half) pictures were made. So hopefully, he won't tear the props to shreds and send the photographer to the broom closet in tears. (We like to call him 'energetic' as opposed to hyper.)

Billie Jean...is not my lover...

Um-kay. So I just realized how supremely depressing I have been sounding lately. Along with being sick of thinking, I am now sick of being depressing. I'm half-watching American Idol right now, (which is actually somewhat depressing this season -- but not totally), and I just heard a recap of David Cook doing his crazy rock-rendition of Billie Jean. Who wouldda thought -- an MJ classic as a rock song? Well, it was freakin' crazy good, so I voted for David like fourty-two times... I really hope that pathetic Kristy Lee goes home, but God knows that since she sang "God Bless the USA" they won't vote her off because that would be totally unpatriotic. Ugh. Stupid hick. Not that I'm prejudiced against hicks. Heck, I'm from a county that had the highest teen pregnancy rate in the state until just a couple years ago. But still, she makes Country music look and sound god-awful. OOooooohhh, it's Chekezie and Syeshia (I don't think I spelled either one of those right, but who in the world could?!) on the stools. Chekezie is definitely my pick for going home. I would wait to post this until I knew for sure, but I'm completely impatient right now, and we all know that Ryan perma-smile Seacrest goes to a Commercial Break after every sentence, so I'm going to leave Chekezie out on the plank and retire to grab my book and watch the end.

Decisions, Decisions......

In order to succeed, and in fact to progress, some amount of discomfort is necessary. I accept that this is just the way it goes. But it still really stinks when you're smack in the middle of it all. The job-drama continues. Just when I thought I had it all figured out and squared away, and just when that thick, heavy, boulder-in-my-stomach feeling miraculously disappeared...... geez. So today I was offered what could be a very good thing for me, both financially, and also simply for the experience. But am I ready for that? My mom thinks I am. My husband thinks I am. I'm not so sure myself. The job I had been doing was very stressful because I was constantly booked with appointments/meetings, leaving me with little to no 'breathing' time and certainly no time to catch up on all the required paperwork. This was all done with little to no support from where it was promised in the beginning of this whole adventure. So I was honest. I said, "I don't want to do this anymore. It's not worth me not being able to sleep or eat because of the stress level..." The response I got from the 'powers that be' was supportive, with promises that I could do whatever I wanted in the company. Today, I was asked again -- what were the biggest issues I had with the job? Did I like it otherwise? Again, I was honest, laying out what I enjoyed and what made me uncomfortable. At that point, the offer was put on the table to pretty much eliminate the negative things, along with being offered a leadership position in the area I had been working in, better pay, and supervisory experience. What a package right? Yeah, it sounds great, but like I said, am I ready for all that? I don't know...I'm still asking myself that. I have to have an answer by Friday. Guess we'll all find out then.

It is only when you are no longer afraid, that you truly begin to live....

My brother had this funny crooked smirk that always made me giggle. He always had laughter in his eyes. He hated clothes that he thought were too preppy. He always listened to his music too loud. He had this wiry, wavy hair that I always used to ruffle. He never liked that. My brother was a man of few words, but when he spoke, he said things that mattered. He had the heart of a lamb, and the courage of a lion. We fought each other. We loved each other. We cried. We laughed. We sometimes screamed. He had the wisdom and careful thinking of a man much older than 19 years. He always said he would never get old. He was right.

Three years ago this past weekend, my brother dove into the ocean to help a friend in trouble, and he did not come back. Spring is a hard season for me. While most are celebrating new life, I am mourning a death. My brother is always with me -- in my heart, in his son's eyes and crooked smirk, in my son's name. But he is also never with me. I can't hug him or ruffle his hair. I can't tell him that I loved him more than I could have ever imagined. I can't tell him that I am afraid to grow old without him. That is something that I will never get over, or that will ever heal completely.

Ryan William

1985 ~ 2005

My Day....

Seriously -- I couldn't believe it myself, but I HAD to post a shot of my Outlook Calendar today. (Names, of course, have been removed to protect the innocent). See what I mean with the job thing?? Every flipping half-hour! It's going to be a long afternoon.....

My Terrible, Awful, No-Good, Very Bad Day....

So life is weird now. Don't get me wrong, plenty is going right -- I got an A in my first Grad School class (**taking a bow** And yes Am, I do realize that I am a nerd. I came to terms with that a long time ago.) We've been back in our house for a while now, and I still have the world's most tolerant husband and greatest kiddo. So, based on that, I still have plenty to be thankful for. The work life? Not so much. I've been feeling the burn-out coming on for a while now, but kept plugging along, thinking I was in a funk and would just have to pull my sorry little self out of it. Didn't really work that way. So, having some very patient, (if not a little self-serving) management, they tried to find something a little more up my alley. Let's just say that it's been the biggest disaster ever. I don't mind the job itself, but I've worked more late nights in the past month than I have the entire 3 years I've been at my company. I know, I sound like a whiny-butt -- seriously though, my kid goes to sleep at 7:30. There's not a whole lot of time to work with on the days I get home at 5:30, let alone 7:30 or 8pm. And I'm just not ready to sacrifice that, so I'm going to go back to the Big Man and tell him thanks, but no thanks. I'll either get happy with my old job back, or I'll have to find something else. That's kind of scary though -- Interviewing, resumes, applications....yuck! My hope is that my dream job will just happen to fall into my lap, and just happen to never involve endless hours behind a desk, late nights, people who steal your lunch out of the mini-fridge, and reception windows with those little silver "ring for service" bells.

Photo-Blogging

I never thought of photo-blogging, but I ran across a really neat blog that was completely done with pictures, so I thought I'd give it a try.

Here is my Sunday in pictures!