This Woman's Whirled

Wow - does this thing still work?

2008-04-29T20:35:00.001-04:00

I am really surprised to find it's still out here! Guess I'd better start writing!

No Fat Princesses

2006-08-25T23:59:00.000-04:00

As Florida residents, we try to get to Walt Disney World on an annual basis. They offer residents great discounts and it really feels like a vacation, even though it is just over a 2 hour drive. This year, we plan to partake in Mickey's not-so-scary halloween party. This is an event taking place at the magic kingdom after hours, and limited to a smaller number of tickets than a usual day at the park. There is trick-or-treating and costumes and, hopefully, smaller crowds.

We have been trying each year to do a family costume but it has never worked out. This year is no exception. My dear son is Dash Incredible. He introduces himself to others that way. While I consider Mrs. Incredible to be inspiring (and my secret blog identity), I am no shape to squeeze myself into her spandex suit. As a matter of fact, that would be laughable as the out-of-shape Mr. Incredible is when he dons the super suit of his glory days in the movie.

That said, I was inspired by the Disney Magic and thought it would be fun to go as one of the famed princesses (preferably one of the 4 non-blondes), so I went online in search of a costume.

Well, it seems that if you google "plus size" and "costume" you may as well have entered "tavern wench." That doesn't exactly exude Disney Magic. So, it would seem, that the plus sized girl cannot celebrate the shape she's in as a beautiful princess - but there were a number of costumes to celebrate the more curvy female form. Check out the plus-sized dirty martini costume or even worse, the sexy Hermione from Harry Potter. Nice.

In all fairness, the disneystore.com site has a pretty, girly costume for me. Tinkerbell. Isn't that ironic? She's supposed to be 6 inches tall. That's just a cruel joke. Tinkerbell should be the one 'princess' we aren't allowed to wear.

So, since I couldn't find anything - my son will be Dash and my husband and I will be wearing Mr. and Mrs. Incredible t-shirts. They're cute and probably much more comfortable than anything else we might come up with.

Insert Foot

2006-08-09T22:43:00.000-04:00

My friend and I were emailing back and forth about seeing the new "World Trade Center" movie when my co-worker paid me a visit. We haven't worked together long, and I find that talking about 9/11 is kind of a universal experience. We may have all reacted differently but I think we all felt the same way. Funny how something so painful seems like a safe topic.

Anyway, he commented that he would likely be very upset by the movie. I quickly responded (see assumption above) that we all would be. Then he gently revealed that he was personally affected by this tragedy.

Even then, in my skepticism, I thought about the number of times I have heard that, usually from people working for large companies feeling a connection with lost colleagues they never interacted with...and so on...

No, it was nothing like that I am afraid.

"I lost a team of people, " he said....and it gets worse.

"I was their manager and I had just moved them into the world trade center. our building we getting crowded, so I moved them to our space over there. I hadn't moved yet, I was still in the building across the street."

OK. I guess that's personally affected. My coworker, apparently, was across the street when it all went down and his team, higher in the building than where the plane hit, didn't make it out. One of the guys on the team was one of those classic stories - late to work because he missed his train - and was walking in the first floor just as it all began to unfold. He did make it but only because he was late for work.

I really didn't know what to say.

I love New York. I totally 'get' all the "I heart NY" bumperstickers and t-shirts. I would rather visit there than anyplace else. I even daydream occasionally about living there...realizing, of course, I will have to be independently wealthy. I never saw the WTC. I have seen ground zero - 5 months after and 3.5 years after. When I am in New York, especially on the subway, I look around at all the people and wonder which of them were stuck in Manhattan that day and because of that - being there, seeing it, possibly helping others - I see them all as heroes.

I asked a street vendor in Battery park last year where the towers would have been in relation to where we were standing. Battery park is at the tip of Manhattan where you take the ferry to see the Statue of Liberty and not at all far from the world trade center site. The vendor, selling photographs of city scenes, broke into a very rehearsed tale. Describing where the towers were, where the planes came from, how low they were...and I asked if he was there that day. As it turns out, he had never seen the towers either. He moved to NYC post 9/11.

So there you have it - I have stood in the ghost of the WTC shadow listening intently to someone who knew the story as well as I did...but it took a conversation in my cube in Florida to hear the real story from someone who was there to see it.

The Presents of our Presence

2006-08-03T21:35:00.000-04:00

For the first time since we moved away from 'home' over 8 years ago, we are returning this year for Christmas. It's not that we don't love our families, please understand, but most of them come and visit us at least annually. It's less a question of burdening others with all the travel as it is one of making sure we are here when someone wants to come for a visit.

Beyond that, there are 2 main reasons we haven't done this before.
1. My dear husband hasn't had much vacation and much of the time off he has had has come when I couldn't be off and leave town.
2. It is very difficult to tell a beloved family member that only one day of your week-long trip is dedicated to them. When you're going back 'home' to visit, there is a lot of ground to cover (hooray for unlimited miles). We find we have more quality time with our loved ones when people come to visit us.

Well, with my husband's current job as a stay-at-home-dad and half-time college student, he have some time off to spare. Unfortunately, on one income, we don't have oodles of extra money.

I suggested to my husband that, since we had the time available, we use the money we would spend on Christmas gifts to travel 'home' and visit our families. I proposed that only the kids exchange gifts and that no one buy us anything.

You would have thought I was the Grinch that Stole Christmas.

No, no Betty Lou Who. No holiday joy for you! And may I ask you dear, while you're standing here, if you remember what I gave you last year? An unremarkable bauble or gift card to sears? My friend's brother's first novel or a year's worth of beer? You don't recall? I am appalled! Please think for a second what you got for a present!

Please.

I don't remember what my husband gave me last year. I don't remember what I gave him. It really isn't important.

To make my point, I told him that we were actually spending the same amount of money as we normally would. The airfare alone is $1200 and the car will be at least $300. For each of the 20 people we will see there for whom we normally buy gifts, this comes out to $75 each and that's more that we would have spent on them otherwise. The would get the pleasure of our company and several of them would get to meet our darling son for the first time.

He still wasn't convinced.

"Ok," I said. "Call your mother right now and ask her if she'd rather have another Harry and David's basket or us come home for Christmas this year." He didn't exactly say that when he called to tell her, but she did squeal with delight at the news.

the pressure!

2006-07-26T22:28:00.000-04:00

Today, I discovered that my friend and fellow blogger has linked to my blog! I haven't had ample time to post in weeks. I am probably boring these wayward blog trotters to death.

I really am a very interesting person. I swear.

I also used to link to D's blog - until I changed templates and all my customization went with the old one. I have every intention of fixing that. I just don't have time.

Right now, my life is pretty much a big ball of stress and fatigue. I am happy, though, believe it or not - but it's taking its toll...Monday, I visited my doctor about the recurring chest pain I've been having. I didn't really think anything was seriously wrong but why would you risk it. As expected, I am fine. My blood pressure is even fine. Here was the best part of the visit...

"Do you feel like you need to take something to deal with the stress, "asks the Doctor - who totally reminds me of Georgette from the Mary Tyler Moore Show (can you imagine that!!?!)
"No," I said, "I don't ever want to wonder if it's me reacting to something or a drug."
"Good," she liked that answer, "would you mind if I recommended an herbal suppliment to you that might help you manage the stress?"

I almost did a backflip. I have never had an MD recommend an herb. Normally, I would expect something like, "My zoloft rep promised me a tee time at the amelia island golf and country club if I manage to get you addicted to his product." I have had a pharmacist recommend an herb and even a vetranarian but never an MD.

The miracle pill is called 5HTP and it boosts your body's production of seratonin - your own, natural happy drug. I take 50mg at night and, if after 4 weeks I still have these symptoms, I will take it twice a day. Of course, if I get worse, I am supposed to call Dr. Georgette right away.

I think it is working already. Bless her heart.

The most terrifying 10 seconds of my life...

2006-07-12T23:55:00.000-04:00

A couple of nights ago, our intruder alarm went off at 2:00 in the morning.

My sweet husband and I had talked a few times about what we might do if that happened. I think it is sheer coincidence that we basically did what we said.

He heard it a second before me and had already lept out of bed. Instantly, I leaped after him. In retrospect, what happened next was hilarious - but at the time, it just added to the maylay and panic. Hubby tripped. In truth, I don't think we were even really awake yet. Simply reacting on adrenaline. I tripped over him with my full weight landing on my knee. We scrambled to our feet and continued on. Me to our son's room and him to the keypad where it would be revealed which sensor had been breached.

Our son was laying still on the bed. Wide awake, but curled up and still and scared. I aksed if he was OK and picked him up and held him. Hubby silenced the alarm and came to us. I never looked for an intruder. I was singularly focused on my son's safety. I am both impressed and embarassed by my heroics. I wasn't prepared. I didn't have so much as a bottle to wield as a weapon.

We were able to quickly verify that the sensor triggering the alarm caused us no further danger. Nothing was fully breached. This sensor is very sensitive and prone to misfiring. However, it usually triggered by something we have done during the day. It has never gone off at night.

We slept on our dear son's floor for the next 2 nights. If someone was trying to break into his room, that was the best way to find out...before the alarm was triggered again. His room's window is behind a fence, not visible from the street, and is shrouded in darkness so we had electicians out today to put in a motion detector flood light. I just believe that it is enough of a deterrent and would give us the advantage is someone were out there.

So - I really hope it never happens again and I am so glad everything was OK.

Better and Worse

2006-06-26T21:34:00.000-04:00

Work is getting better. I showed up last week ready to take the bull by the horns and tame it. One of us wasn't going to make it through this - me or my mythical bull - and I am determined to be the victor. I finally know what I need to do to keep myself busy. I don't have to wait on anyone to give me orders. Whether I am doing it right remains to be seen but, I know in the eyes of my boss, that putting forth the effort is really what is expected. My willingness to try, to take chances is what I need to demonstrate more than anything.

The bad part is it is becoming increasingly evident that my son cannot attend this daycare. One of his teachers has stopped talking to me after I told her how I would like drop off to go. Today he came home with mysterious marks and a very rehearsed story, "I scratched myself" he said. He doen't use the word 'myself' - do they not know I get that, I know what words he uses and what ones he doesn't?

What's worse is that my tongue is somewhat tied. We plan to leave the center. I will have to gloss over as to why because the director's dad is very senior in my company and knows my senior management well.

Glory Days

2006-06-16T22:33:00.000-04:00

I used to be smart. I used to be the resident subject matter expert on a handful of things. I am having a really hard time knowing nothing.

The past two weeks have been such a struggle. I have had limited connectivity to some vital tools to do my work. I have been working on some documentation that is just a rewrite of everything that already exists because I can't get anyone to commit to meeting with me.

I was somewhat prepared for the pressure of performing for my boss and her bosses - and comforted with the knowledge that my boss will do all that she can to help me succeed. Today, I know that the work I gave her was not what she wanted. This is unfamiliar territory, though, as I was always able to give her exactly what she was looking for when I worked with her before. I can't wait for that to happen again.

I was not at all ready for the big disappointment I have been to myself. I am working hard to turn this discouraged feeling into determination.

I can do this and I will do this. Not only will I do it but I will be great at it.

I just hope it doesn't take long as I am very impatient...

Irregular

2006-06-12T21:21:00.000-04:00

My dear, sweet son has had a miserable time adjusting to his new daycare. So much so, he couldn't or wouldn't allow his bowels to move while he was there. Nice topic, I know - but it really makes it clear just how affected he has been by this. Today, thank goodness, he decided he could trust his new caretakers enough to loosen up and go for the first time in the six days he has been there.

He still cries at drop off - and even at the notion of being dropped off. I suspect he will for a long while to come - but, at least subconsciously, he is accepting the change. Something that seemed so unlikely at this time last week.

Hallelujah! Hooray for poop!

Free Tampax!

2006-06-06T21:34:00.000-04:00

Today was my first real day at the new job. I have learned a lot already and can't wait until I feel truly productive...that said, I am really excited about what I discovered in the bathroom!

Upon entering the bathroom I made note of the machine on the wall, ever present in the most ladies' rooms, filled with 'feminine sanitary products' in the event that magical time catches you by surprise. It used to be these machines were 10 cents. More recently, they have charged a quarter.

This machine was labeled free. It still had a coin slot and a crank, but no coin was required to release the supply.

I could barely believe my eyes. I could have as many as I wanted. Somehow, this gesture seemed to relieve some of the injustice I regularly feel for having to endure this curse. After all, I am officially infertile now (even before the Mirena) so it seems to serve little purpose. Having to pay for these products has always seemed like a punishment. What's worse, is that there is a difference in quality and comfort that is based on price! It all seems so wrong...or it did until today...

In addition to these goodies, I found that all the drawers in the break room were stocked with individually wrapped plastic flatware! Oh how many times have I been forced to suck yogurt through a straw!

I have clearly crossed the threshold into Utopia...

The chrysalis

2006-06-04T21:57:00.000-04:00

This was the weekend of transformation. I left work on Friday for good. I worked there for 7 years.

To put this in perspective, I am only 32. I have been married for 9 years and I have only been out of college for 9 years. 7 years is a very significant amount of time. Still, there was no real celebration. I worked quietly and left quietly.

My co-workers had bought me a cake - which seemed so odd given that there was a baby shower (that had been planned for two weeks) held just hour before with, yes, another cake. No lunch, no parting gift. I wasn't really expecting a gift, but I thought for sure lunch. They presented the cake at the last hour, literally, of my employment, during the meeting scheduled with my manager to turn in my equipment, corporate credit card, and security badge. When I asked if they would please dial in my long-time west-coast team mate they wouldn't...citing his working from home as the reason.

I didn't cry. Anyone who knows me knows the tears come easy. I think they were expecting I would. They mentioned it. Very odd.

I did cry at the hard-hitting reality that I have to move my son to another daycare. I found the best place I could and, based on the price, it is the best money can buy - but it is not on-site and it is not these teachers. They made a beautiful poster for my son with pictures of his little friends.

I have talked to my sweet boy about this transition and done everything I can to make him feel at ease. I hope he has a good day tomorrow. I really hope he has fun.

As for me, I will be attending orientation for my new employer - a competitor of my former one. I will reuniting with my former boss - my favorite boss. I will be thinking a lot of my little boy. I will learn some about my new company and I will discover where I will sit for the next phase of my career.

Here's to moving on. I am emerging a beautiful butterfly.

Persona Non Grata

2006-05-31T21:28:00.000-04:00

I am in the final days of my two week notice (yes, I got the job!!) and, while this is normally a reflective time, I can't help but reflect because I have spent my last several days at work alone. Really, it's fitting. This past year was easily the worst of my adult life. I spent most of the year trying to prove to management that the team I was leading was critical all while coping with a brewing mutiny and the efforts of many of the very teammates I was defending to undermine me. One of them succeeded.

It was just a disagreement on the Friday before I took a week off. When I returned, I was the root of all evil, on drugs, and clearly unstable. At least that was what everyone had been told. Fortunately, I had a good reputation. Most who knew me knew this was a bunch of hooey. Sadly, our management had changed completely and no one who knew me was left in a position to champion me. The downward spiral began and it became painfully clear I couldn't possibly win.

I was given a bad performance rating. In this company, this is the equivalent of blacklisting. I would not be eligible for a bonus or a merit increase and I couldn't even post for a new position. Of course, this became a much bigger deal when I was let go. Even worse, I gained a lot of weight and lost some of my hair!

I am so glad all of this is over. It's best I spend these last days alone. The reflecting reminds me exactly why I am leaving. Regardless, I would be lying if I said I wasn't a little hurt that no one is taking me to lunch.

P.S. to my regulars - sorry for the delay - and for the makeover.

The State of Daycare

2006-05-17T21:59:00.000-04:00

I have taken extended lunches the past 2 days to look for a new child care center for my dear son and I have a new appreciation for my current on-site arrangement.

Hubby and I started by touring a center that has been in business for ages. He actually walks by it every day and had a good feeling about it. It has good inspection records and is always full - certainly a sign that it's a desireable place, right? Well, it probably is, if you are trying to pull your children out of nasty centers like the next two I visited. However, after walking into a room of, I swear, 2 dozen sleeping children and observing there was no teacher present, we decided this wasn't the place for us.

Since his current center is a chain, I thought that might be a good approach. I contacted two very well known chain centers (KinderCrap and La Mistreat Academy) and arranged for tours. I cannot possibly judge which center was worse and I think I may have developed post-traumatic stress disorder just by visiting. Both places were exactly how I imagined orphanages must be. Nauseating smells greeted me at the door and the children were unhappy, unkept, and unattended. It was interesting to note that both of these centers were like big open rooms divided by waist-high, movable walls. When one teacher was noticeably over ratio, it occurred to me that this 'big room' approach was to get around the ratio rule. Essentially, all of the staff and all of the children were in the same room.

I reached the conclusion that, if this was it, one of us had to stop working or someone else we are related to needed to get a job with my current employer so he can stay where he is.

I called another center after leaving La Mistreat, I ask desperately for an impromptu interview and tour. They happily agree but indicate there really isn't availability at this time. A spot for my son would depend on their getting another room ready to go that isn't there today. The new teacher isn't even hired.

When I arrive, I know this is the place. It isn't in a very convenient location and, after I plunk down my non-refundable registration fee, I learn that tuition is $50 more per week than we pay today. This isn't an area of our lives where bargain hunting seems appropriate.

All of this work done behind the scenes and we haven't even reached the hard part - the actual transition.

The Big Day

2006-05-09T21:55:00.000-04:00

This morning, I had an appointment with my prospective employer. It was very early for me and I needed to prepare everything just so in order to ensure I would arrive on time. Last night, I laid out my clothes and packed my bag. Dear husband and I reviewed the plan for how the morning would go before we went to bed.

At 7:10 this morning, I was on my way. A little late, I had already wasted my spare time, but I was looking polished and had a sleepy, content son in tow munching strawberry toaster pancakes and watching Spongebob. The traffic gods were with me. I sailed through all the green lights and the highway was doing the speed limit. I was feeling smug. Clearly, this was my day.

I pulled into the daycare at 10 to 7, planning to drop my little boy off quickly because I wasn't really sure where I was going.

Then came a terrifying noise from the back seat. He was choking on his pancake! I threw the car into park and, before I slammed my door on my way to him, I could tell he had almost cleared his throat. When I reached his door, he was still gagging a little and I offered him some water still in the car from the weekend. It looks like he'll be OK. He's still breathing. I am watching so closely for signs that he still may be choking that I miss any warning that he was about to puke all over himself and the car.

What a reality check. A little reminder that, above all else, I am a mom. I managed to dodge the mess but my sweet little boy, just covered in sick, is desperate for a hug. It had been a traumatic 30 seconds. I take off my suit coat, lay it on the front seat, and gingerly lift him from the yuck. It really is everywhere. I strip him down to his shoes, socks and diaper and use baby wipes to clean off the rest. There is no time to putz with the car or his carseat. I really have to go.

I wrap him in a blanket, hoping I don't meet the director on the way in. To her, puking is puking and he won't be allowed to stay. Once we're safe in the classroom, we're greeted by his teacher, who can already see it has been quite a morning. My boy basks in the attention one gets by arriving in their birthday suit and I dash to his cubby for his extra clothes.

I don't even remember dressing him. I am filling in the teacher. I tell her he isn't sick, that I have to run to an interview, and that if they do need anything to call Daddy. My son is already off playing. He is telling his classmate that he "eat a pancake and spit it out." I guess this is preschool bragging because he doesn't actuallly know how to spit.

The teacher instructs him to wish me luck. He does and I am on my way - except the sign on the door catches my attention. It says, "My mommy is special because..." Beside my son's name, it says "Yeah. She say I love you, I love you. She play dinosaurs, she play bugs." That's just about the best thing he could have said and it gave me the power to conquer the world - or at least get through that interview.

How did I do? Stay tuned...

Stranger than Fiction

2006-05-05T21:57:00.000-04:00

I spent a good portion of today crying quietly at my desk. I had a really hard time articulating why to those I tried to tell and I doubt I will have much better luck here. I learned something yesterday at work that didn't change my situation much but changed my outlook dramatically.

When I had been told my position was being outsourced, I was also told that I had been considered for the open positions in the division and was determined not to be a fit. There was no place for me. Suddenly, I was an outcast in a world where I had been considered an expert for years.

I went into the proverbial tailspin.

I launched a publicity campaign that, had it been allowed to gain more momentum, would have elected me president. My sweet husband went back to the job he had quit due to stress. I spent money on job hunting books and suits. I wrote a fine resume. We talked about moving, even considered it inevitable. I schmoozed, and interviewed, and flirted, and kissed up, and disguised the pleading with an inflated self-confidence usually reserved for the nation's sales force. I was unstoppable...until I was met with the dark despair and hopelessness introduced to me by the entire situation. My usual sunny disposition had been blotted out by the toxic sludge of uncertainty and self doubt. It was the most horrifying roller coaster ride I can recall and it was all in my head.

What I found out yesterday was that it was probably unnecessary. Turns out, my position had been eliminated but there was still hope for me. In fact, the senior manager for our team said he'd love to have me stay in the division. I was dumbstruck.

Back on the flipside, I have evidence to suggest someone has been messing with my personnel record, changing my performance ratings and obliterating my history of high performance. I don't know for sure who may have done it but I suspect it was my manager who was mysteriously reassigned last week.

When I was initially let go (or not), all I wanted was my job back. Now I just want to run as far away as I can as quickly as I can.

Corporate America or The WB? Maybe both - I'll get started on a pilot as soon as I find a job.

Pride and Prejudice

2006-05-01T21:12:00.000-04:00

Today was the day we met our Indian replacement. He was late. Perhaps he thought we meant 9 AM Bangalore local time, I don't know. When he arrived, one of my teammates (who is not losing her job) became the welcome wagon. I don't even know how she did it. She introduced him around the floor and showed him how to navigate the building as though his arrival was our saving grace. His late arrival.

When I complained about his tardiness, this same person made excuses for him, saying, "he doesn't have connectivity yet, he may not have known." I responded, "well, he has a watch - and they have time in India." If we can't even rely on this person to understand the urgency of this job enough to arrive on time, I am afraid it is all downhill from here.

At one point, she asked if I would help train him. I was genuinely busy and said no. I am trying my best to avoid a lot of contact with him or I will be forced to show him a picture of my son and ask if he would like to sponsor him for 71 cents per day (the price of a cup of coffee). It could be more than he makes though, so that may be unnecessarily cruel.

The day will come, however, when I will be forced to hand him my job on a silver platter, demoralizing myself for the sake of my management's desire to save face and my company's desire to increase profits.

For my next act of humiliation, I will get a part time job at Hooter's.

Damn right I'm bitter.

Mirena

2006-04-28T22:25:00.000-04:00

A pretty name, Mirena, isn't it? Nice name for a baby, maybe?

Well, as of Tuesday, Mirena will be the new tenant in my uterus and, sadly, it isn't a baby. Mirena is the brand-name for the new generation of IUDs.

After nearly two years of trying to conceive - including trying trying, pretending to not try trying, mild fertility drugs, herbal remedies, ovulation predictor tests, and even a psychic clearing the appropriate chakra - we are not pregnant. Now that I am looking for work, it is important I not get pregnant for awhile. Next Tuesday, I will officially throw in the towel and get an IUD.

Why bother you may be thinking? Certainly, at this point it seems more likely that a cow might jump over the moon. True enough - but it is a widely-accepted fact that some pregnancies are caused by a wild change in circumstances.

Only time will tell if Mirena will move out so someone else can move in but, for now, I am ready for a break from the pressure of trying and the heartache of being unsuccessful.

Comforts of Home

2006-04-26T21:10:00.000-04:00

For the record, my husband is fantastic. Today I called him with news of a job opportunity that might be too good to let go but would totally turn our world upside down...but it was OK with him.

And then, I flip-flopped and offered the opposing perspective, playing devil's advocate with myself...and it was still OK with him.

Whatever scenario I was able to conjure was OK with him. As long as we are together, we will be happy.

Lately I am reminded that above all else, he is my best friend. I know I don't have to face this challenge alone. His support of me through all of this is so tangible, I can feel it while we are apart.

I am so lucky to have him.

Suit Shopping

2006-04-21T22:15:00.000-04:00

Now that the resume is done and I have gathered some leads, it's time to kick off the job search in earnest. Well, it is my hope that this will result in some interviews so, today, I took an extended lunch to find a suit.

I wear plus sizes. I have since high school - so I am not recently fat. I am very comfortable with myself and those who know me don't even notice. I know this isn't healthy so I have been working at it but it's not going to go away overnight so there is no point in letting it ruin my self image...but that's a topic for another post.

Back to suit shopping. Apparently the chubby do not work. We go on cruises, we are the mother of the bride, and we like things to be stretchy - but never do we need anything appropriate to wear to a business interview.

I didn't actually count but, I think at one store, there was actually more in the plus section to wear in the house rather than out of it. I guess that's where we belong, out of the public eye.

How disappointing. I did try something very traditional - a dark coat and skirt with pin stripes. I think it was the right size but it still looked like I was a kid dressed up in my mother's clothes. It's as though the designers oversize everything because they don't know what part of you is plus sized. I could have probably flown away had the wind caught all the extra fabric.

I found something. It's black and white which is trendy right now and not as sophisticated as I would like. Apparently, unless I retain a tailor or have a gastric bypass, I won't ever find exactly what I want.

I hope I have better luck next week with my haircut.

Exclusive shopping footage

Daycare Dingbat

2006-04-20T21:07:00.000-04:00

My son's daycare is subsidized by my employer so, when I lose my spot, so does he. Yesterday I received word that he will be transitioned to a new room shortly before our anticipated departure.

Since I had alerted the administration to our situation, I was unable to understand why this made sense. This morning, when I approached the manager who issued the letter to ask that he not be moved, she said no.

I was dumbstuck. I explained the stress of the transition and how unnecessary it was. I explained that my dear son would already be undergoing enough transition in our home lives. I explained that I personally could not handle one more piece of stress in my life. I started to cry.

She said, "There really isn't anything I can do. The letters have already gone out."

Again, I was dumbstuck. I wanted to offer her a quarter so that she could make another copy or two of the letter.

I explained my logic. Certainly, there was a child due to move up when my son moved out. Why couldn't that child take his place in the new room? Why couldn't the child taking my son's place in his old room instead take the place of the back-up child in his or her old room? It's hard to explain in writing but in no way difficult to comprehend but I may as well have been speaking to her in Chinese.

I told her this was not OK and that he was not to participate in any transition activities until she and I worked this out. When I got to my office, I made an appointment with the director of the center.

Hooray! My logic was validated. He will be permitted to stay in his current spot!

I will probably see the dingbat tomorrow. I don't know if she will know at that point that this has been settled. What I do know is that I feel much better about leaving the center (I had been most distraught over it) - and for that, I should thank her.

Empty Inbox

2006-04-18T21:26:00.000-04:00

Anytime I am out of the office, I can expect to spend a big portion of my first day back catching up with my email. If I am out for a week, I have hundreds. If I am out for a day, I have nearly a hundred.

Monday, after returning from a 3-day weekend, I had 18. Usually, I have 18 coming back from lunch. In this case, everything I missed on Friday was there in a total of 18 emails.

It's like I am already gone.

Today, I sent out dozens of networking emails. I contacted nearly everyone I have ever worked with. Some people haven't responded. Some wrote things you'd see in the autographs of a high school yearbook (I really enjoyed working you! You'll be missed! Keep in touch!) Some people really surprised me with the emotion evident in their reactions. They didn't know, they were so sorry, they wanted to help in any way they could.

This is a very surreal time.

Go Bolts!

2006-04-16T20:52:00.000-04:00

We had so much fun at the game last night, I truly forgot about losing my job and the accompanying mountain of stress. It's such a relief to know such joy continues to be possible. Of course, it is probably no coincidence that I found such great joy in my team beating the Carolina Hurricanes (home state of the company so carelessly deemphizing my position in favor of the much cheaper and cheaper global talent pool - did I mention they were cheaper?).

The game itself was fantastic. After leading 2-0 going into the 3rd period, Carolina tied the game. We won with 10 seconds left in overtime on a breakaway by Lightning star, Martin St. Louis. The excitement was amazing!

During the game, my son was on the jumbotrons twice and met Thunderbug, the team mascot (this was easily the highlight of the game for him). He was actually very engaged throughout, chanting "Let's go Lightning!" He has been to several games, but this was the first time he wasn't solely focused on leaving his seat.

My dear husband was more excited than he usually permits himself to be. He literally jumped up and down after the winning goal! He freely shouted his immediate feedback to the refs when bad calls were made and he cheered our team's great saves, hard hits, and shots on goal as though he were the coach.

I so enjoyed being with both of them, watching both of them. No matter what happens with my job or our finances, I know that no amount of money can buy the happiness my family brings to my life.

Take that, Carolina!!!

Kid Couture

2006-04-13T21:35:00.000-04:00

Tomorrow we leave for a long weekend in Tampa. The main event being a Tampa Bay Lightning game. We paid for most of the trip months ago, so it is nice to take this weekend away from the job stress without worrying how it impacts our budget.

Anyway, I have spent far more time preparing and packing my dear son's wardrobe than my own. Mixing and matching all the cute little t-shirts with the shorts that best capture the spirit I am looking for. Please. They are t-shirts and shorts. You do not accessorize little boys. There isn't even the pressure of matching the socks.

Basically boys clothes fall into 3 major themes:

Vehicles - anything that could also be a matchbox car is eligible for boys clothing, including firetrucks, cars, airplanes, boats, frontloaders

The Outdoors - usually cuddly animals like lizards, insects, wolves, sharks, and snakes -OR- themes like camping and exploring.

Sports - baseball seems to big favorite, but you can expect to see surfing, basketball, fishing, football, skateboarding, or even billards. Even the notion of sportiness is popular with shirts featuring the word "Varsity" or just a big number as if on a jersey.

This all drives me bananas. My son likes puppies. He likes butterflies and flowers...and he likes colors. Boys clothes are generally limited to 3 major colors - red, blue, and heather gray. I constantly survey the girl's section for anything I could easily unembellish enough to make gender neutral just so he could wear yellow, purple, or aqua. Inevitably, if I do find a fun color, it's a polo shirt. I'm not a huge fan of polo shirts, and neither is my dear son, but I have been able to find them for boys in hot pink and lavender!

Well, time to finish packing! How ever will I choose between the blue lizard t-shirt and the gray lizard t-shirt? For the record, my boy doesn't really care.

Whipping Girl

2006-04-12T20:59:00.000-04:00

I had a particularly bad day at work today.

I learned that I wasn't given a merit increase this year (not that it really matters, I have about six weeks to go) and a teammate of mine (who is not being laid off) is smugly micromanaging the rest of the team's efforts. Combined with the morose mood of the entire division, it is nearly intolerable. If I wasn't being laid-off, I would probably quit.

I was shocked, at first, to be losing my job. Sometimes, I still feel betrayed. Given the way things are going, I am beginning to think I am one of the lucky ones.

Even I can't be perky every day.

I feel for my boss who has had to deliver all of this bad news. Today, I didn't hold back my reaction. I told her I was sick of taking the fall for management's lack of accountability. I said I was done being their door mat. I said a lot more. It's easy to be candid when you have nothing to lose.

Ketchup?

2006-04-11T23:57:00.000-04:00

I have spent several hours over the past two days brainstorming with my husband the perfect new gmail address. Given our new financial uncertainty and the large expense of high-speed internet, it seems prudent to move to web mail. It is independent from out ISP, it's free, and we can check it from the library when we are living in a box.

Like most families, we have multiple addresses. I have the professional sounding one to put on my new and improved resume, my husband has one as well, and then there is the frivolous family email where relatives and friends can deposit superstitious angel blessing chain mail and other assorted greetings. Well, the first two professional-sounding addresses were easy. The third one gave us a little trouble.

My sister likes to send those jokes and surveys and chain letters to a distribution list not unlike the one overstock.com uses to remind me daily that shipping is only $2.95. I read the names on her list with great curiosity...there's damnation_angels_whore666, crazy_error_dot_com, welcometothespectacle, and darktigger. I don't know who they are and am not sure I want to but I admire their flair for choosing an email address.

We have used the same user name for years, eeduo. It stands for a nickname given to us before we were married, the "double e duo." Well, we have added a new member of the family so, as beloved as eeduo was, it seemed time for a change.

You would think we were drafting our epitaphs or playing championship scrabble. It needed to be eloquent and witty. If we could throw in a pun or a double entendre - all the better! It needed to personify us to the throngs of people who don't know us yet will see our name on countless morality-affirming stories about the wisdom of children and puppies zooming around the internet. We tried cute phrases our son says. We tried incorporating things we enjoy as a family, we actually settled on snugglenuggle but it made us sound like dorks. Seriously, this went on for 2 days.

When it was far more frustrating than fun, my husband suggests we select the word 'ketchup'. Despite the fact it was probably already taken, there we had spent the better part of two evenings debating the merits of each other's suggestions and he was ready to throw it all out for 'ketchup!' It seemed so unimaginative, what would people think?

In the end, we chose something like eeduo that acknowledges the 3 of us. It's sweet and all but 'ketchup' would have probably aroused more interesting backstories to those left wondering.

2006-04-11T23:27:00.000-04:00