Is it age that makes me suddenly need a morning cup of coffee? I still drink decaf much of the time, so it's not a caffeine addiction. At least, I don't get headaches if I don't have coffee or anything like that. But I do feel like I must have a cup of coffee, decaf or otherwise, to stay calm and get through my day.
I've always liked coffee, but I never made it at home. And I used to only drink it in the afternoon. I had a coffee pot for when people visited ('cause I live in the South and it's just manners to offer a cup of coffee), but I never used it.
Now, I have my morning cup of coffee. I either get it from the McDonald's drive-through ($1.05)or I make it in my very tiny coffee maker. I like two creams (at McDs) or three teaspoons of creamer (at home) and five Splendas. But I would drink it with just cream or just Splenda. Heck, in a pinch, I would drink it black.
Ander is starting to like it, too. How bad mommy is that? LOL.
Etcetera.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Friday, January 30, 2009
What Is Wrong With Me
I'm cleaning the house today. (Okay, I've fielded two client calls and pumped once and nursed twice and bottle fed once and changed three diapers and refilled a sippy cup twice and a cereal bowl once and changed the DVD movie twice and made Ander pick up each toy before taking another one out and explain how pliers work and read instructions for putting a truck together and had breakfast and sent an e-mail to my cousins saying that I adore when they offer to keep my kids for the night but I am EXTREMELY SAD TO DECLINE AS WE ALREADY HAVE PLANS AND COULD THEY PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE ASK AGAIN IN THE NEAR FUTURE...but I'm a mom and that's what mornings are like.)
So, anyway, I'm cleaning the house. I mostly cleaned the stove top. (I had burnt roast gravy onto it, and it will need a second scrubbing, but it's not totally horrible like it was before.) I picked up everything that was out of place in the living room and most of what was out of place in the kitchen and put everything in its proper home.
And then I got inexplicably distracted. I HAD TO clean the little creases in the wooden cabinet doors. I ABSOLUTELY COULD NOT RESIST using the hand vac to clean under the edge of the counters and near the fireplace. I was IRRESISTABLY COMPELLED to go through the spoons and pick out any ones with the tiniest of spots and rewash them.
It's lunchtime. I've been cleaning for two hours. And the house isn't much cleaner.
But, damn, the crud is off the cabinet doors. Sigh.
Can you say OCD?
Etcetera.
So, anyway, I'm cleaning the house. I mostly cleaned the stove top. (I had burnt roast gravy onto it, and it will need a second scrubbing, but it's not totally horrible like it was before.) I picked up everything that was out of place in the living room and most of what was out of place in the kitchen and put everything in its proper home.
And then I got inexplicably distracted. I HAD TO clean the little creases in the wooden cabinet doors. I ABSOLUTELY COULD NOT RESIST using the hand vac to clean under the edge of the counters and near the fireplace. I was IRRESISTABLY COMPELLED to go through the spoons and pick out any ones with the tiniest of spots and rewash them.
It's lunchtime. I've been cleaning for two hours. And the house isn't much cleaner.
But, damn, the crud is off the cabinet doors. Sigh.
Can you say OCD?
Etcetera.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Posting From Smartphone
I'm mostly checking to see if I can blog from my phone. Observant readers will notice that it is the middle of the night. It's Loki's first night in his crib, and as such, Mommy is not sleeping one wink.
Etcetera.
Etcetera.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Does Everyone Else Worry All The Time?
It's not like I think I need meds or have anxiety disorcer of some sort. I imagine, in my mind, that everyone worries as much as I do. I used to mostly worry about money. I sort of stopped worrying about money. I made some better choices - cooking at home, carrying a cash allowance, and working on billable work first - and am getting better about money stuff. I still worry a bit, but I don't obsess.
I do obsess about the piles of crap in my house. I have Christmas boxes in the trash, still, because only one broken down box fits in the trash per week. But they drive me crazy. I never put my shoes away. I just throw them in a basket. But the basket drives me crazy. I worry about whether my tires are aired up on my car. I worry about whether I'm spending too much time with my kids (and therefore smothering them with discipline and structure) or too little (and therefore letting them run wild and be lonely). I worry, worry, worry. When I leave work, I think about it. Constantly. I worry about my clients. I worry about the economy. I worry about my husband (who, realistically, seems fine, BTW).
I see others, and I suspect other people aren't like this. I suspect that when they aren't working, they rarely think about work. I suspect that they don't obsess over raising their kids. I suspect that other people relax and enjoy themselves when 5 p.m. comes around.
Instead, I just keep thinking of my alarm clock.
I need a cruise. On a ship. Yep, no meds, no doctors. Just an easy cure of people taking care of everything and no need to go anywhere to get food.
Please, please, please let me win the Powerball.
Etcetera.
I do obsess about the piles of crap in my house. I have Christmas boxes in the trash, still, because only one broken down box fits in the trash per week. But they drive me crazy. I never put my shoes away. I just throw them in a basket. But the basket drives me crazy. I worry about whether my tires are aired up on my car. I worry about whether I'm spending too much time with my kids (and therefore smothering them with discipline and structure) or too little (and therefore letting them run wild and be lonely). I worry, worry, worry. When I leave work, I think about it. Constantly. I worry about my clients. I worry about the economy. I worry about my husband (who, realistically, seems fine, BTW).
I see others, and I suspect other people aren't like this. I suspect that when they aren't working, they rarely think about work. I suspect that they don't obsess over raising their kids. I suspect that other people relax and enjoy themselves when 5 p.m. comes around.
Instead, I just keep thinking of my alarm clock.
I need a cruise. On a ship. Yep, no meds, no doctors. Just an easy cure of people taking care of everything and no need to go anywhere to get food.
Please, please, please let me win the Powerball.
Etcetera.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
I'm Not Going To Lie
I am shocked that no body shot at the President. I was so scared for him that I held my breath as I watched the oath. I know there is still hatred out there. I'm thrilled, though, that my children will never learn that hate. They will know about it, of course, as a cautionary tale. Let's not ever have a country again where a citizen cannot be elected because of gender or skin color.
I spent a lot of time on Facebook today. In part, I've been going through a backlog of work. It's mostly e-mails and to do list issues, so I have been able to check Facebook while e-mails load up. Also, I feel the need to connect.
Alan and I had a fight over the need to connect with others. I get noticably sad if I don't connect to lots of people. I miss people when I don't see them for a while. Last week, home with the flu, I felt very alone. I got tons of well wishes, so to Alan, who is okay by himself for weeks at a time, it's noncomprehensible. He pointed out that we went out to dinner. I pointed out that I need connections every single day. He seemed clueless.
Is it just me? Others seem fine with alone time. I need alone time - to read or sleep. But otherwise, I'd prefer to be with people. That's why I work in coffee shops. That's why I want to go out with friends all the time. My perfect weekend? Coffee with hubby on Friday night. Lunch with friends on Saturday. Mall walking Sunday afternoon with a sibling. I need connections, not quiet, for my sanity.
After a week out sick, I'm feeling insane.
But thankful that our President did okay.
Etcetera.
I spent a lot of time on Facebook today. In part, I've been going through a backlog of work. It's mostly e-mails and to do list issues, so I have been able to check Facebook while e-mails load up. Also, I feel the need to connect.
Alan and I had a fight over the need to connect with others. I get noticably sad if I don't connect to lots of people. I miss people when I don't see them for a while. Last week, home with the flu, I felt very alone. I got tons of well wishes, so to Alan, who is okay by himself for weeks at a time, it's noncomprehensible. He pointed out that we went out to dinner. I pointed out that I need connections every single day. He seemed clueless.
Is it just me? Others seem fine with alone time. I need alone time - to read or sleep. But otherwise, I'd prefer to be with people. That's why I work in coffee shops. That's why I want to go out with friends all the time. My perfect weekend? Coffee with hubby on Friday night. Lunch with friends on Saturday. Mall walking Sunday afternoon with a sibling. I need connections, not quiet, for my sanity.
After a week out sick, I'm feeling insane.
But thankful that our President did okay.
Etcetera.
Friday, January 16, 2009
The Revised Plan
1. Work out at least 20 minutes per day. I can skip a day, but ONLY if I've already banked the time. (For example, if I work out 40 minutes Saturday and 30 minutes Sunday and 20 minutes Monday, I can skip Tuesday and only work out 10 minutes on Wednesday.) Banking does not carry over after 7 days.
2. Do pushups and crunches EVERYDAY. For now, my goal is 30 fake ones and one real one
3. Erase the evidence of whatever I do - cooking, getting dressed, coming home from work.
4. Do one extra thing each time I do a task. For example, while cooking lunch (roast beef sandwich) and grabbing a plate from the dishwasher for the sandwich, I went ahead and unloaded all the clean plates from the dishwasher. Unloading the whole dishwasher would have taken too long, but unloading that one extra thing took no time at all.
5. 15 minute QC (quickclean) everyday - either cleaning the area that needs it most, doing the task that needs it most, or decluttering. Again, I can bank the time, just like above, but not for longer than 7 days.
6. Make myself accountable for 365 days (starting on my birthday tomorrow) by charting it in my pda. I won't chart the erasing the evidence or doing one thing extra, but I will chart the workouts, pushups/crunches, and the QC in my pda.
Hold me accountable.
Etcetera.
2. Do pushups and crunches EVERYDAY. For now, my goal is 30 fake ones and one real one
3. Erase the evidence of whatever I do - cooking, getting dressed, coming home from work.
4. Do one extra thing each time I do a task. For example, while cooking lunch (roast beef sandwich) and grabbing a plate from the dishwasher for the sandwich, I went ahead and unloaded all the clean plates from the dishwasher. Unloading the whole dishwasher would have taken too long, but unloading that one extra thing took no time at all.
5. 15 minute QC (quickclean) everyday - either cleaning the area that needs it most, doing the task that needs it most, or decluttering. Again, I can bank the time, just like above, but not for longer than 7 days.
6. Make myself accountable for 365 days (starting on my birthday tomorrow) by charting it in my pda. I won't chart the erasing the evidence or doing one thing extra, but I will chart the workouts, pushups/crunches, and the QC in my pda.
Hold me accountable.
Etcetera.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Brace For Impact
I am watching the miracle that is a crashed plane where, at least as of the latest reports, all passengers and crew survived. Wow, I can't even contemplate how quick thinking and calm the pilot and crew had to be. Wow.
One of the passengers is reporting that women and children were sent away first.
I have such mixed feelings about women and children going first. Well, not children. Get those kids off the plane. Save the kids first. That part is easy.
And for the most part, I get that the men - in general - will be stronger than the women and therefore more likely to save themselves in some way if, say, they run out of lifevests and have to swim to shore. Men can swim faster, farther, and against stronger currents than women, in general.
But the in general is my problem. Without discounting the truth that men and women are built differently and physical survival is likely easier for men in cases like plane crashes into a river, sometimes having extra women might be better. I imagine a scenario where me and my brother-in-laws crash in a plane. One brother-in-law used to jump out of planes (in the armed services) for a living. He probably needs to stay behind and help with the rescue mission. The other brother-in-law is stronger than me and was in the Coast Guard, but panics in stressful situations. Really panics bad. I, on the other hand, am calm, know instinctively how to delegate, and work best under pressure. In most scenarios, he should leave the scene before me for the safety of everyone involved. I wonder if guys were saying "ladies first" and maybe missing out on some GI Jane who could have done something. Or, maybe, in such a fast moving situations, you go with the statiscal odds that the women will be weaker and send them off first. Shrug. I don't know the answer. I just find myself asking the question.
Etcetera.
One of the passengers is reporting that women and children were sent away first.
I have such mixed feelings about women and children going first. Well, not children. Get those kids off the plane. Save the kids first. That part is easy.
And for the most part, I get that the men - in general - will be stronger than the women and therefore more likely to save themselves in some way if, say, they run out of lifevests and have to swim to shore. Men can swim faster, farther, and against stronger currents than women, in general.
But the in general is my problem. Without discounting the truth that men and women are built differently and physical survival is likely easier for men in cases like plane crashes into a river, sometimes having extra women might be better. I imagine a scenario where me and my brother-in-laws crash in a plane. One brother-in-law used to jump out of planes (in the armed services) for a living. He probably needs to stay behind and help with the rescue mission. The other brother-in-law is stronger than me and was in the Coast Guard, but panics in stressful situations. Really panics bad. I, on the other hand, am calm, know instinctively how to delegate, and work best under pressure. In most scenarios, he should leave the scene before me for the safety of everyone involved. I wonder if guys were saying "ladies first" and maybe missing out on some GI Jane who could have done something. Or, maybe, in such a fast moving situations, you go with the statiscal odds that the women will be weaker and send them off first. Shrug. I don't know the answer. I just find myself asking the question.
Etcetera.
How To Respond
I normally ignore political e-mails. After all, I believe everyone is entitled to his or her beliefs. And I am very comfortable with the ethics of my own political views. Plus, it's so easy to just delete an e-mail.
But then one of my relatives sent this e-mail. And I think it's racist and rude. And he KNOWS I don't agree. Do I just ignore him? Or do I have some moral obligation to call him racist?
"In a few short days, an African American man will move from his private residence into a much larger and infinitely more expensive one owned not by him but by the taxpayers. A vast lawn, a perimeter fence and many well trained security specialists will insulate him from the rest of us but the mere fact that this man will be residing in this house should make us all stop and count or blessings - because it proves that we live in a nation where anything is possible.
Many believed this day would never come. Most of us hoped and prayed that it would, but few of us actually believed we would live to see it. Racism is an ugly thing in all of it's forms and there is little doubt that if this man had moved into this house fifteen years ago, there would have been a great outcry - possibly even rioting in the streets.
Today, we can all be both grateful and proud that no such mayhem will take place.when this man takes up residency in this house.
This man, moving into this house at this time in our nation's history is much more than a simple change of addresses for him - it is proof of a change in our attitude as a nation. It is an amends of sorts - the righting of a great wrong. It is a symbol of our growth, and of our willingness to "judge a man, not by the color of his skin but by the content of his character".
There can be little doubt now that the vast majority of us truly believe that this man has earned both his place in history and his new address. His time in this house will not be easy - it will be fraught with danger and he will face many challenges. I am sure there will be ma ny times when he asks himself how in the world he ended up here and like all who have gone before him, the experience will age him greatly.
But I for one will not waste an ounce of worry for his sake - because in every way a man can, he asked for this. His whole life for the past fifteen years appears to have been inexorably leading this man toward this house. It is highly probable that that in the past, despite all of his actions, racism would have kept this man out of this house. Today, I thank the lord above that I am an American and that I live in a nation where wrongs are righted, where justice matters and where truly anything is possible.
I hope you find it within yourself to except (sic) this Historic event.
Scroll down:-)
[IN THE EMAIL, THERE IS A PICTURE OF OJ SIMPSON HERE]
You thought I was talking about Obama? Sorry."
Sigh. I hate always being the one making trouble, but does he HAVE to send me such dribble?
Etcetera.
But then one of my relatives sent this e-mail. And I think it's racist and rude. And he KNOWS I don't agree. Do I just ignore him? Or do I have some moral obligation to call him racist?
"In a few short days, an African American man will move from his private residence into a much larger and infinitely more expensive one owned not by him but by the taxpayers. A vast lawn, a perimeter fence and many well trained security specialists will insulate him from the rest of us but the mere fact that this man will be residing in this house should make us all stop and count or blessings - because it proves that we live in a nation where anything is possible.
Many believed this day would never come. Most of us hoped and prayed that it would, but few of us actually believed we would live to see it. Racism is an ugly thing in all of it's forms and there is little doubt that if this man had moved into this house fifteen years ago, there would have been a great outcry - possibly even rioting in the streets.
Today, we can all be both grateful and proud that no such mayhem will take place.when this man takes up residency in this house.
This man, moving into this house at this time in our nation's history is much more than a simple change of addresses for him - it is proof of a change in our attitude as a nation. It is an amends of sorts - the righting of a great wrong. It is a symbol of our growth, and of our willingness to "judge a man, not by the color of his skin but by the content of his character".
There can be little doubt now that the vast majority of us truly believe that this man has earned both his place in history and his new address. His time in this house will not be easy - it will be fraught with danger and he will face many challenges. I am sure there will be ma ny times when he asks himself how in the world he ended up here and like all who have gone before him, the experience will age him greatly.
But I for one will not waste an ounce of worry for his sake - because in every way a man can, he asked for this. His whole life for the past fifteen years appears to have been inexorably leading this man toward this house. It is highly probable that that in the past, despite all of his actions, racism would have kept this man out of this house. Today, I thank the lord above that I am an American and that I live in a nation where wrongs are righted, where justice matters and where truly anything is possible.
I hope you find it within yourself to except (sic) this Historic event.
Scroll down:-)
[IN THE EMAIL, THERE IS A PICTURE OF OJ SIMPSON HERE]
You thought I was talking about Obama? Sorry."
Sigh. I hate always being the one making trouble, but does he HAVE to send me such dribble?
Etcetera.
Subliminal Motivation
First, read this link about Clutter.
Second, consider the implications if this is true. You could trick your spouse and kids into keeping the house clean. Your efforts will be rewarded.
If this works, it is a wonderful thing. If I wasn't all weak and feverish (is it normal to have fever on DAY FIVE of a cold?), I'd conduct a cleanign experiment myself.
Etcetera.
Second, consider the implications if this is true. You could trick your spouse and kids into keeping the house clean. Your efforts will be rewarded.
If this works, it is a wonderful thing. If I wasn't all weak and feverish (is it normal to have fever on DAY FIVE of a cold?), I'd conduct a cleanign experiment myself.
Etcetera.
Feeding My Kid
I hate thinking of what to feed Ander. It used to be so simple - formula, then milk and oatmeal, then mac 'n cheese. But I'm worried that he's not getting nearly enough veggies (he is not) and way to much frozen food. I try not to cater. For example, if you ask what he wants for lunch, the answer is predetermined: peanut butter and jellies on a sandwich. His words, not mine. But wouldn't a roast beef sandwich with sliced tomatoes, for a bit of variety, be better? Maybe with some grapes for desert?
So I don't ask.
And he doesn't complain. He just leaves the roast beef sandwich, sitting there, all wasted.
Sigh.
Etcetera.
So I don't ask.
And he doesn't complain. He just leaves the roast beef sandwich, sitting there, all wasted.
Sigh.
Etcetera.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Leftover Goodness
I've started a new trend (but it's been going on for months now, so perhaps I should call it a habit) of making a chili every week or two and roast about once or twice a month. I used to struggle with eating at home, especially since I never had much protien to eat. But by making roast (takes about 10 minutes to process onions, brown meat, and season, 2 hours to cut, and another 10 or so to slice and store) and chili (10 minutes to brown, season, and save, with a couple of hours cooking in between), I've been eating at home more often and eating much less junk.
I eat the roast on whole wheat sandwiches with sliced tomatoes, with mashed potatoes, or with Lipton butter noodles or Easy Mac. The chili can go on nachos, toast with cheese, or tator tots with cheese. That's already 7 different meals! And while chili and roast aren't healthy like chicken, they are much better than the Oreo cookies and cereal I was living on before.
If I could just bring myself to add a fruit and a salad every day (especially since breakfast is usually a bowl of oatmeal and pretty healthy) and to cook one other yummy meal a week for variety (like snap beans or grilled shrimp), I'd be doing so well.
Etcetera.
I eat the roast on whole wheat sandwiches with sliced tomatoes, with mashed potatoes, or with Lipton butter noodles or Easy Mac. The chili can go on nachos, toast with cheese, or tator tots with cheese. That's already 7 different meals! And while chili and roast aren't healthy like chicken, they are much better than the Oreo cookies and cereal I was living on before.
If I could just bring myself to add a fruit and a salad every day (especially since breakfast is usually a bowl of oatmeal and pretty healthy) and to cook one other yummy meal a week for variety (like snap beans or grilled shrimp), I'd be doing so well.
Etcetera.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
But, But, All I Did Was Sleep For Two Hours...
...so how come a baby store exploded on my living room floor?!?
Moms and dads each how their role. I am convinced that most couples fail and make one or the other party miserable by dividing those rules based on sexist stereotypes, like dad cutting the grass and mom doing the laundry. (For example, in our house...you knew I'd slip my own example in, right?...dad hates the outside, doesn't like exercise, and is highly allergic to grass, while mom ruins clothes all the time, puts off doing laundry until she has no choice, and sneezes when she cleans the lint filter. Mom does the grass and dad does the laundry. Just sayin'.)
When it comes to unpacking and saving baby clothes, Alan knows his role. Alan takes the clothes saved from Ander from the storage area. Alan washes said clothes. Kristy sorts through the old clothes, putting the stuff that doesn't fit in a Goodwill bag and leaving everything else in the drawers. Then Kristy sorts the new stuff into the drawers, and Alan brings the old stuff to the vehicle to drop off in the Goodwill box near our house. Process finished.
And I only slept for a little bit.
*blink*
So how did my living room get full of baby clothes? Outgrown baby clothes?
"Well, um, I, um, sorted the 3-6 month clothes, um, by style and, um, size."
"Why? Loki wears 6-9 months. All 3-6 months go inthe Goodwill bag."
"Yah, um, I know that."
"Where are the clothes that you unloaded that are 6-9 months?"
Excited, maybe-I-did-something-right look. "Right here."
"Unsorted."
Face falls. "Yah."
Love the effort, honey. I'm sick and tired and Loki needs bigger clothes. But in the 2 hours, while I was trying desperately to sleep away this cold, you made more mess and got nothing accomplished. Sigh.
Maybe parents should stick to their roles, though not the stereotypical ones, whenever possible. I don't sort the clothes because I like it. I sort them because I'm good at it. Sigh.
To give proper credit, Alan is currently fixing his error and sorting the clothes properly.
Etcetera.
Moms and dads each how their role. I am convinced that most couples fail and make one or the other party miserable by dividing those rules based on sexist stereotypes, like dad cutting the grass and mom doing the laundry. (For example, in our house...you knew I'd slip my own example in, right?...dad hates the outside, doesn't like exercise, and is highly allergic to grass, while mom ruins clothes all the time, puts off doing laundry until she has no choice, and sneezes when she cleans the lint filter. Mom does the grass and dad does the laundry. Just sayin'.)
When it comes to unpacking and saving baby clothes, Alan knows his role. Alan takes the clothes saved from Ander from the storage area. Alan washes said clothes. Kristy sorts through the old clothes, putting the stuff that doesn't fit in a Goodwill bag and leaving everything else in the drawers. Then Kristy sorts the new stuff into the drawers, and Alan brings the old stuff to the vehicle to drop off in the Goodwill box near our house. Process finished.
And I only slept for a little bit.
*blink*
So how did my living room get full of baby clothes? Outgrown baby clothes?
"Well, um, I, um, sorted the 3-6 month clothes, um, by style and, um, size."
"Why? Loki wears 6-9 months. All 3-6 months go inthe Goodwill bag."
"Yah, um, I know that."
"Where are the clothes that you unloaded that are 6-9 months?"
Excited, maybe-I-did-something-right look. "Right here."
"Unsorted."
Face falls. "Yah."
Love the effort, honey. I'm sick and tired and Loki needs bigger clothes. But in the 2 hours, while I was trying desperately to sleep away this cold, you made more mess and got nothing accomplished. Sigh.
Maybe parents should stick to their roles, though not the stereotypical ones, whenever possible. I don't sort the clothes because I like it. I sort them because I'm good at it. Sigh.
To give proper credit, Alan is currently fixing his error and sorting the clothes properly.
Etcetera.
Now and Then
20 YEARS AGO
What I had
* An application out to a boarding school, where I thought I'd finally find my bliss
* A shy boyfriend, who I barely remember, but whose good qualities taught me what to expect in a husband
* A part in a play
* A ton of time to ride my bike, read, and swing on the porch
What I wanted
* Freedom
15 YEARS AGO
What I had
* A wonderful fiance'
* Too much homework
* A crappy apartment
* Doris as a roommate
What I wanted
* Enough money to not worry and a high-powered office to work at
10 YEARS AGO
What I had
* A teaching career
* An application out to law school
* A crappy, always arguing relationship with my husband
* A neat red car
What I wanted
* An out, a change, something...anything...different
NOW
What I have
* A valued, fun, dependable relationship with my husband
* An almost three year old who thinks I'm his best buddy
* The sweetest baby on Earth
* A confortable, cozy home
* A job I love (when I'm not home to sick to do it)
What I want
* Time to myself
Etcetera.
What I had
* An application out to a boarding school, where I thought I'd finally find my bliss
* A shy boyfriend, who I barely remember, but whose good qualities taught me what to expect in a husband
* A part in a play
* A ton of time to ride my bike, read, and swing on the porch
What I wanted
* Freedom
15 YEARS AGO
What I had
* A wonderful fiance'
* Too much homework
* A crappy apartment
* Doris as a roommate
What I wanted
* Enough money to not worry and a high-powered office to work at
10 YEARS AGO
What I had
* A teaching career
* An application out to law school
* A crappy, always arguing relationship with my husband
* A neat red car
What I wanted
* An out, a change, something...anything...different
NOW
What I have
* A valued, fun, dependable relationship with my husband
* An almost three year old who thinks I'm his best buddy
* The sweetest baby on Earth
* A confortable, cozy home
* A job I love (when I'm not home to sick to do it)
What I want
* Time to myself
Etcetera.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Note My New Sidebar
Hope you like it.
If you are there and want to disappear, let me know.
If you want to be there, and you are not, e-mail me your link. First come, first serve. Assuming I like you, obviously.
Etcetera.
If you are there and want to disappear, let me know.
If you want to be there, and you are not, e-mail me your link. First come, first serve. Assuming I like you, obviously.
Etcetera.
Sick Day
Why is it so hard to take a sick day? I woke up with a fever and no voice. I'm coughing and hacking and my nose is runny and my head is stuffy and my throat is sore. In a word, I am sick.
But I had two court cases. Both are critical, and putting off court for a month was not practical, given the situations the parties were in. I didn't actually have to have the whole hearing in either case today, as it was pretty apparents that, sans voice, I couldn't do my job, but I had to have the judge put protections in place that would last until the new court date and set a new court date.
I came home and napped. Alan took Ander to the doctor, and when they got home, Ander needed lunch at the same time that Loki needed a bottle. I couldn't nurse Loki, because I had just pumped. Plus, I don't want him to get what I have. (I keep giving him freshly pumped milk, so he'll get the current antibodies, but not nursing him, so I don't breath on him and give him germs.) So I had to wake up and give Loki a bottle, or listen to my poor baby scream.
Then a couple of potential clients called for representation, so though I couldn't see them today, I had to set something up for the future.
I wish I had a sick day where I just stayed in bed. Alan is off, but with Ander sick, too, and needing medicines and doctor visits and breathing treatments, it's all overwhelming and sometimes, even with me sick, he needs my help. Still, I wish someone would bring me hot soup (but not chicken noodle...blah), vapor rub, and some movies to watch. I wish the kids would just play quietly and not be sick, too. I wish work wouldn't pile up while I'm out. I wish I could just have a real sick day, instead of a day that I will pay for later.
Etcetera.
But I had two court cases. Both are critical, and putting off court for a month was not practical, given the situations the parties were in. I didn't actually have to have the whole hearing in either case today, as it was pretty apparents that, sans voice, I couldn't do my job, but I had to have the judge put protections in place that would last until the new court date and set a new court date.
I came home and napped. Alan took Ander to the doctor, and when they got home, Ander needed lunch at the same time that Loki needed a bottle. I couldn't nurse Loki, because I had just pumped. Plus, I don't want him to get what I have. (I keep giving him freshly pumped milk, so he'll get the current antibodies, but not nursing him, so I don't breath on him and give him germs.) So I had to wake up and give Loki a bottle, or listen to my poor baby scream.
Then a couple of potential clients called for representation, so though I couldn't see them today, I had to set something up for the future.
I wish I had a sick day where I just stayed in bed. Alan is off, but with Ander sick, too, and needing medicines and doctor visits and breathing treatments, it's all overwhelming and sometimes, even with me sick, he needs my help. Still, I wish someone would bring me hot soup (but not chicken noodle...blah), vapor rub, and some movies to watch. I wish the kids would just play quietly and not be sick, too. I wish work wouldn't pile up while I'm out. I wish I could just have a real sick day, instead of a day that I will pay for later.
Etcetera.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Teaching Ander Sign Language
For tonight, at least, because I don't have a voice. Crappy cold.
Ander is on steriods for his horrible breathing. It makes him so mean and cranky. I still respond just as I always do - calm warnings and timeout, modeling sweet behavior, trying to help him find the right words - but if he flings his hand back one more time to hit me, or someone else...ugh.
Etcetera.
Ander is on steriods for his horrible breathing. It makes him so mean and cranky. I still respond just as I always do - calm warnings and timeout, modeling sweet behavior, trying to help him find the right words - but if he flings his hand back one more time to hit me, or someone else...ugh.
Etcetera.
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Good Intentions
I really believe Alan has good intentions to spend time with me, be more romantic (and the bar, just in case you didn't notice, is REALLY SERIOUSLY LOW...darnit), and be more understanding of what I'm feeling. I think the problem is he doesn't know how to enact it. He takes care of the kids and thinks he's being nice to me, because he's taking care fo the kids. Or he cleans the house, and hey, how many guys clean up? Except that I went into marriage (no big secret about to be revealed) knowing and assuming and demanding that the guy be willing to take care of his own kids and clean his own house, and those things are great, but they merely MEET EXPECTATIONS.
You don't get extra credit for just meeting expectations.
Even worse for poor Alan? I have an EXPECTATION of a certain level of romance. It's a really, really low expectation, but it's higher than level zero, so it does require some work.
Just saying.
So I gave him some ideas. Some concrete, not whiney, just do this and it will really help ideas. We shall see.
I'm pretty sure he'll never watch Oprah with me again. LOL.
(Have you seen her "Best Life Sex Show"? Those Body Maps, blank dolls where you mark where you want to be touched, are CrEEpy.)
Etcetera.
You don't get extra credit for just meeting expectations.
Even worse for poor Alan? I have an EXPECTATION of a certain level of romance. It's a really, really low expectation, but it's higher than level zero, so it does require some work.
Just saying.
So I gave him some ideas. Some concrete, not whiney, just do this and it will really help ideas. We shall see.
I'm pretty sure he'll never watch Oprah with me again. LOL.
(Have you seen her "Best Life Sex Show"? Those Body Maps, blank dolls where you mark where you want to be touched, are CrEEpy.)
Etcetera.
Friday, January 9, 2009
Overtime
I don't get to work overtime. If I'm not done with work at the end of the work day, I take it home. My kids need me. I have to pump. I have to eat because I'm nursing a baby. Except for juvenile court running late about 3 times a year, I leave work on time because I have to.
But Alan often has to work late. His office hires attorneys, but I could never work there, because if one parent works late during legislative session, both parents cannot work late.
But boy, those extra 30 to 120 minutes while he works are torture.
Ander has a sense of when Daddy gets home. If it starts getting dark, and Daddy isn't home yet, I hear about it. It's hard to cook supper or put my work stuff away without Daddy to entertain Ander. It's really hard to nurse Loki without Daddy entertaining Ander.
I know other moms do this, by themselves, but I'm not other moms. I have a partner who does his share and then some. I REALLY APPRECIATE it when he's not here.
So I sit here, trying to convince Ander that we are out of batteries (translation: candy for his Tigger Pez dispenser). Trying to convince Loki that a paci is just as good, since Daddy is only 45 minutes away and Loki ate only two hours ago and darn it, it's so much easier with Daddy here to negotiate the battery situation. And trying to convince my headache to go away, because I need to be happy when my husband gets home. I miss him. 120 extra minutes...killer.
Etcetera.
But Alan often has to work late. His office hires attorneys, but I could never work there, because if one parent works late during legislative session, both parents cannot work late.
But boy, those extra 30 to 120 minutes while he works are torture.
Ander has a sense of when Daddy gets home. If it starts getting dark, and Daddy isn't home yet, I hear about it. It's hard to cook supper or put my work stuff away without Daddy to entertain Ander. It's really hard to nurse Loki without Daddy entertaining Ander.
I know other moms do this, by themselves, but I'm not other moms. I have a partner who does his share and then some. I REALLY APPRECIATE it when he's not here.
So I sit here, trying to convince Ander that we are out of batteries (translation: candy for his Tigger Pez dispenser). Trying to convince Loki that a paci is just as good, since Daddy is only 45 minutes away and Loki ate only two hours ago and darn it, it's so much easier with Daddy here to negotiate the battery situation. And trying to convince my headache to go away, because I need to be happy when my husband gets home. I miss him. 120 extra minutes...killer.
Etcetera.
I Thought of a Wonderful Post Last Night
In the middle of the night, I drafted an amazing, witty, fun post. In my head.
When it comes back into my brain, I'll share it with you.
Etcetera.
When it comes back into my brain, I'll share it with you.
Etcetera.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Organizing Books
Brien asked me which organizing/time management book he should read. (Getting Things Done by David Allen...clearly the Brien choice.) I had about six books I could think of, off the top of my head, four of which were on my bookshelf. I immediately knew which system was right for him (job with lots of meetings and projects and little to no flexibility). And I started assigning books, in my mind, to other people I know. (Ebeth and Krumply need 7 Habits by Covey, Rachel at work needs Organizing...Inside Out, Michelle needs Time Management Inside Out, and I LOVE The Organized Executive - combined with GTD from above.)
Had sad is it that I know this? How sad is it that I considered going to Monroe to coach Brien through organizing, for FUN? (My birthday is a long weekend because of MLK Day, but Alan probably won't go for that and Brien is really busy at work...clearly..LOL.)
I'm obsessed.
Oh, and feel free to post your organizing dilemmas. I might have a brilliant solution, that works for your particular situation, hiding in my brain. ;)
Etcetera.
Had sad is it that I know this? How sad is it that I considered going to Monroe to coach Brien through organizing, for FUN? (My birthday is a long weekend because of MLK Day, but Alan probably won't go for that and Brien is really busy at work...clearly..LOL.)
I'm obsessed.
Oh, and feel free to post your organizing dilemmas. I might have a brilliant solution, that works for your particular situation, hiding in my brain. ;)
Etcetera.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Almost Like A Freelancer
As an attorney, court dates are set pretty much in stone. I can move things around, of course, but not without a bit of effort, like filing a motion or calling opposing counsel and sending a letter to the court. Deadlines are usually pretty solid as well, though some things just need to be done in the next month or so. It's a lot like being a student, I guess. It's like I have classes and I have homework and tests to prepare for, but other than classes, I don't have to work 9 to 5. I can be more flexible.
Also, my bosses are many - clients, public defender board, the Louisiana State Bar Association, and judges - instead of just one person telling me what to do. On one hand, no one watches what I do very closely. On the other hand, there are a lot of people to be unhappy if I mess anything up. (I try not to ever mess anything up. That works well, but is a lot of pressure.)
I also get paid from multiple sources. I get a stipend from the public defender board, fees from opposing parties in curator cases, and billed income from private clients. I have to not only do the work, but also keep track of what work I do and bill for that work and then wait to (hopefully) get paid.
I like the freedom. I am working at home today, in my pjs. My babysitter (aka mom) had a busy day because she has a pokeno party at her house tonight. My office manager (aka secretary) is out today on for her kid's doctor's appointment, and that means that if I stay in the office, I'll have to answer the phone all day instead of getting billable work done. I'd have to leave the office to pump and eat, because I don't want clients walking in during those activities, since they see my car parked outside. I really would not get enough done, and would inconvenience my FREE babysitter...LOL...so I am working from home.
So far, I've had a phone call from one public defender's office client, two calls with opposing counsel, written a motion to continue, and spoke to one private client. I've noted bills from a phone call I got as I drove into my driveway last night from a private client. But I'm not done.
I have two faxes/letters to write to opposing counsel, as noted on my to do list, and both MUST be done today so I can fax them out first thing tomorrow morning. Also, I have a billable goal. Meeting that goal means, well, that after office expenses and Rachel's salary are paid, I take home money. I still have to make $26 today to meet my goal.
But working at home means other stuff, too. I've nursed Loki twice, fed Ander breakfast and lunch, done potty training all morning, changed two dirty diapers, let my kids (yep, both watched intently {blush}) watch Wall-E and 101 Dalamations, and cooked a chili. Notably, I missed breakfast. (Loki had to nurse and I had to take my eye meds and then a client called and I got too busy.)
Sigh. Busy, but flexible. Or just a mom skipping breakfast.
Etcetera.
Also, my bosses are many - clients, public defender board, the Louisiana State Bar Association, and judges - instead of just one person telling me what to do. On one hand, no one watches what I do very closely. On the other hand, there are a lot of people to be unhappy if I mess anything up. (I try not to ever mess anything up. That works well, but is a lot of pressure.)
I also get paid from multiple sources. I get a stipend from the public defender board, fees from opposing parties in curator cases, and billed income from private clients. I have to not only do the work, but also keep track of what work I do and bill for that work and then wait to (hopefully) get paid.
I like the freedom. I am working at home today, in my pjs. My babysitter (aka mom) had a busy day because she has a pokeno party at her house tonight. My office manager (aka secretary) is out today on for her kid's doctor's appointment, and that means that if I stay in the office, I'll have to answer the phone all day instead of getting billable work done. I'd have to leave the office to pump and eat, because I don't want clients walking in during those activities, since they see my car parked outside. I really would not get enough done, and would inconvenience my FREE babysitter...LOL...so I am working from home.
So far, I've had a phone call from one public defender's office client, two calls with opposing counsel, written a motion to continue, and spoke to one private client. I've noted bills from a phone call I got as I drove into my driveway last night from a private client. But I'm not done.
I have two faxes/letters to write to opposing counsel, as noted on my to do list, and both MUST be done today so I can fax them out first thing tomorrow morning. Also, I have a billable goal. Meeting that goal means, well, that after office expenses and Rachel's salary are paid, I take home money. I still have to make $26 today to meet my goal.
But working at home means other stuff, too. I've nursed Loki twice, fed Ander breakfast and lunch, done potty training all morning, changed two dirty diapers, let my kids (yep, both watched intently {blush}) watch Wall-E and 101 Dalamations, and cooked a chili. Notably, I missed breakfast. (Loki had to nurse and I had to take my eye meds and then a client called and I got too busy.)
Sigh. Busy, but flexible. Or just a mom skipping breakfast.
Etcetera.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Apparently There Are Blog Awards
And I am not nominated for any of them. What gives?
It's probably because I talk about politics and poop and (sorry Brien) boobie juice and icky health stuff, right? Anyway, today's blog is about the red, swollen, crusty eye that is throbbing all the way down my face and into my shoulder.
Should I get an award for that?
Here's a reminder, from back when I was pregnant, of what it looked - and still looks - like:
Yuck. I'm on my third antibiotic drop therapy since July 4, 2008 (yep, you read that right) and on my third doctor for it. I've even seen whatever the eye specialists (the real, serious ones) are called. Optisomethings?
It got better near the end of the pregnancy. Then I got the epidural, and that side of my face swoll up. I took drops again, and it went away. Now it's back. I'm taking eye drops (which are white and gooey and burn and taste funny...as they drip down my throat...come on - THAT is so worthy of an award or two) regularly, every three hours, except when I sleep. To no avail. (I probably don't get blog awards because I don't write complete sentences or even proofread, right?)
My left side of my face, and my body a bit, hurts. It totally sucks. The doctor all just nod and say, "yes, an infection. These drops should help."
They do not help.
I'm no Amalah, but I need an award, dammit.
Etcetera.
It's probably because I talk about politics and poop and (sorry Brien) boobie juice and icky health stuff, right? Anyway, today's blog is about the red, swollen, crusty eye that is throbbing all the way down my face and into my shoulder.
Should I get an award for that?
Here's a reminder, from back when I was pregnant, of what it looked - and still looks - like:
Yuck. I'm on my third antibiotic drop therapy since July 4, 2008 (yep, you read that right) and on my third doctor for it. I've even seen whatever the eye specialists (the real, serious ones) are called. Optisomethings?
It got better near the end of the pregnancy. Then I got the epidural, and that side of my face swoll up. I took drops again, and it went away. Now it's back. I'm taking eye drops (which are white and gooey and burn and taste funny...as they drip down my throat...come on - THAT is so worthy of an award or two) regularly, every three hours, except when I sleep. To no avail. (I probably don't get blog awards because I don't write complete sentences or even proofread, right?)
My left side of my face, and my body a bit, hurts. It totally sucks. The doctor all just nod and say, "yes, an infection. These drops should help."
They do not help.
I'm no Amalah, but I need an award, dammit.
Etcetera.
Oh, How Illinios Makes Louisiana Look Nicer
I really like the guy that the disgraced Illinios governor appointed to fill Obama's Senate seat. Burr sounds smart and he is witty with his words and fun to watch. I don't know anything about his politics, but I'd definitely vote for him if they are similiar to mine, since I think he could only liven up the Senate.
That said, I am very sad that a congressperson from Illinios is calling the failure to seat Burr racist.
I'm prepared to face reality. The Senate is clearly too white. And the governor has not been convicted or impeached, so technically, he still may have the legal power to appoint a Senator. I don't know the law in that area well enough to say.
But come on. It was clear, BEFORE any appointment of ANYONE - black, white, or otherwise - was made, that the Senate was not going to seat the appointment. To do so, just because the appointee is black, would be racism.
Please, please, those who are calling racism on this one - stop. There is PLENTY of REAL racism out there. Fight the good fight against racism. I'm here to stand next to you and help you fight it.
But step away from this one, because this one is NOT about race.
Etcetera.
That said, I am very sad that a congressperson from Illinios is calling the failure to seat Burr racist.
I'm prepared to face reality. The Senate is clearly too white. And the governor has not been convicted or impeached, so technically, he still may have the legal power to appoint a Senator. I don't know the law in that area well enough to say.
But come on. It was clear, BEFORE any appointment of ANYONE - black, white, or otherwise - was made, that the Senate was not going to seat the appointment. To do so, just because the appointee is black, would be racism.
Please, please, those who are calling racism on this one - stop. There is PLENTY of REAL racism out there. Fight the good fight against racism. I'm here to stand next to you and help you fight it.
But step away from this one, because this one is NOT about race.
Etcetera.
Sunday, January 4, 2009
The Plan
1. Make a concerted effort to put things back where they actually belong whenever possible.
2. Clean up after each activity (ie. cooking dinner).
3. Spend 15 minutes a day cleaning wherever the need is greatest.
Join me.
Etcetera.
2. Clean up after each activity (ie. cooking dinner).
3. Spend 15 minutes a day cleaning wherever the need is greatest.
Join me.
Etcetera.
This Is Getting Ridiculous
I've been cooking much more often. I've also been using a master grocery list in my pda and checking off the groceries I need each week. Lots of times, I cook a chili and a roast. Both items are tasty, plus they lend themselves to many different meals. I can have roast with mashed potatoes, roast over buttered noodles, and roast beef sandwiches. With the chili, I make chili cheese toast, nachos, or tator tots with chili and cheese. I need several different ingredients for each main dish (and the side dishes), but it's basic stuff, like onions and brown gravy mix.
So imagine my frustration when I plan my week's meals around these main dishes, but the store is out of half the ingredients. Yesterday, Target did not have french onion soup, brown gravy mix, or Alan's Diet Mountain Dew. They were out of the big packages of Size 3 (gulp...the baby is only 3 months old) diapers. They had few tomatoes and no yellow onions.
Today, Wal-mart has no electric carving knives.
Seriously? I make a list, but over half the list - things like onions and diapers - isn't at the store. Fab-U-Lous. I'm so sick of the labeled, empty spaces in grocery stores. Sigh. I need another solution and some extra patience.
Etcetera.
So imagine my frustration when I plan my week's meals around these main dishes, but the store is out of half the ingredients. Yesterday, Target did not have french onion soup, brown gravy mix, or Alan's Diet Mountain Dew. They were out of the big packages of Size 3 (gulp...the baby is only 3 months old) diapers. They had few tomatoes and no yellow onions.
Today, Wal-mart has no electric carving knives.
Seriously? I make a list, but over half the list - things like onions and diapers - isn't at the store. Fab-U-Lous. I'm so sick of the labeled, empty spaces in grocery stores. Sigh. I need another solution and some extra patience.
Etcetera.
I'm Not Saying W Is Dumb
I do not actually know if our current President is dumb. He certainly has the credentials, on paper, to be bright. But he certainly comes off as, well, an idiot. And that's apart from his politics. His father never struck me as unintelligent. President Reagan sounded smart, even as I disagreed with his politics. But W just sounds sort of d'uh.
I wasn't sure about Obama. Obama's politics are much like mine. I only disagree with Obama on a handful of issues. But, frankly, I voted for Clinton in the primary because, to my ears, she sounded smarter.
There you have it. Edwards and Obama just didn't seem as smart.
Then, last week, I heard Constitutional Law scholar Obama reading the portion of one of his books where he discusses the Supreme Court.
I love Constitutional Law. I made the highest grade in my Constitutional Law class at LSU Law. I was a finalist in a National Moot Court competition, based on a constitutional law argument. I have a Juris Doctorate. (Note that I am not bragging - I barely stumbled through Torts...LOL - but simply listing my qualifications to make the next statement.) I am not the caliber expert on Supreme Court and Constitutional Law that Obama is, but I am a qualified enough expert to say with great regard that the man, at least when it comes to law, is GENUIS.
I wonder how many people understand that. He's so likable. My own personal biases make likable usually not mean brilliant in my mind. But I'm wrong. He is brilliant. Will he be effective? Who knows. But I plan to read more about what he writes regarding the Supreme Court, because I can learn something from him.
Etcetera.
I wasn't sure about Obama. Obama's politics are much like mine. I only disagree with Obama on a handful of issues. But, frankly, I voted for Clinton in the primary because, to my ears, she sounded smarter.
There you have it. Edwards and Obama just didn't seem as smart.
Then, last week, I heard Constitutional Law scholar Obama reading the portion of one of his books where he discusses the Supreme Court.
I love Constitutional Law. I made the highest grade in my Constitutional Law class at LSU Law. I was a finalist in a National Moot Court competition, based on a constitutional law argument. I have a Juris Doctorate. (Note that I am not bragging - I barely stumbled through Torts...LOL - but simply listing my qualifications to make the next statement.) I am not the caliber expert on Supreme Court and Constitutional Law that Obama is, but I am a qualified enough expert to say with great regard that the man, at least when it comes to law, is GENUIS.
I wonder how many people understand that. He's so likable. My own personal biases make likable usually not mean brilliant in my mind. But I'm wrong. He is brilliant. Will he be effective? Who knows. But I plan to read more about what he writes regarding the Supreme Court, because I can learn something from him.
Etcetera.
Saturday, January 3, 2009
Picky Eaters
I'm watching a special on the Food Network about the Adult Picky Eaters Assciation. My sister and her family are picky eaters. French fries, cheese, and bread are the only things these people eat. Add rice, red beans, and chocolate, and you've covered her family.
I could not live without flavors - balsamic vinegar, spicy crab, grilled red peppers, dark chocolate, blackberry preserves, a perfect medium rare steak...yum.
There are a couple of things I don't eat. I hate mayonaisse. Weird, because I eat eggs, oil, and vinegar. I don't love eggs, but I eat them. I don't eat blue cheese. Yuck! And I don't eat raw oysters or anything with cumin.
I don't love asparagus, broccoli, or mushrooms, but I'll probably eat small amounts in something that is otherwise tasty.
Peanut butter can be crunchy, creamy, natural, or spiked with honey. Bread, though preferred wheat, can be crunchy french bread, dark black pumpernickel, or garlic and buttery. I love food.
The picky eaters on the show were having trouble in romantic relationships. Food is such a part of my life; I'd probably have the same issue. My one romantic eating regret is that I didn't marry a man who loves to cook.
And now I'm off to eat.
Etcetera.
I could not live without flavors - balsamic vinegar, spicy crab, grilled red peppers, dark chocolate, blackberry preserves, a perfect medium rare steak...yum.
There are a couple of things I don't eat. I hate mayonaisse. Weird, because I eat eggs, oil, and vinegar. I don't love eggs, but I eat them. I don't eat blue cheese. Yuck! And I don't eat raw oysters or anything with cumin.
I don't love asparagus, broccoli, or mushrooms, but I'll probably eat small amounts in something that is otherwise tasty.
Peanut butter can be crunchy, creamy, natural, or spiked with honey. Bread, though preferred wheat, can be crunchy french bread, dark black pumpernickel, or garlic and buttery. I love food.
The picky eaters on the show were having trouble in romantic relationships. Food is such a part of my life; I'd probably have the same issue. My one romantic eating regret is that I didn't marry a man who loves to cook.
And now I'm off to eat.
Etcetera.
Thursday, January 1, 2009
Interview Me
As a special holiday treat, if you ask me five questions in the comments to this entry, I'll do my best to answer them.
Etcetera.
Etcetera.
Need a Discipline Refocus
Potty-training is sucktackular! Behavior is very terrible twos.
And I'm tired and distracted because I'm trying desperately to raise a baby and I forget to address Ander's needs. Loki is so heavy and actually difficult to hold. Plus, I'm always nursing or pumping (or eating, because of the nursing and pumping). So I'm tired. I'm very impatient. And I am not being consistent enough. I really need to get in gear.
All I really want to do is sleep. Sigh.
Poor Ander, because timeouts are about to restart with a vengence.
Etcetera.
And I'm tired and distracted because I'm trying desperately to raise a baby and I forget to address Ander's needs. Loki is so heavy and actually difficult to hold. Plus, I'm always nursing or pumping (or eating, because of the nursing and pumping). So I'm tired. I'm very impatient. And I am not being consistent enough. I really need to get in gear.
All I really want to do is sleep. Sigh.
Poor Ander, because timeouts are about to restart with a vengence.
Etcetera.
Happy New Year
I played with my Palm Centro all evening yesterday. I almost have it set up the way I like it. I am very picky about my setup, because I believe a good set-up makes you more efficient. I've been searching Centro Tips and Tricks all night.
The most important thing I set up last night was my Phone app favorites list. I set up several numbers to dial quickly, by simply pressing Phone and one button - A for Alan, Q for Alan at work (because it's easy to remember and right over the A), S for Sunny, W for Wendy, J for Jenny, M for Michelle, B for Brien, P for Parents, and O for Office. That's it, because a shortcut dialing list that is too long defeats the purpose, and those are the people I call the most. For those of you thinking of creating your own favorites quick dial list, on your Palm Centro or your own phone, note that I programmed the most frequently used numbers, not the numbers of the people who live closest to me and I see the most often. For example, I call EBeth on occassion, but usually I just see her, so I don't need her on speed dial.
My tip for an effective speed dial list: program in numbers for the people you call at least once a week and get familiar with those shortcuts. If you want to add more people AFTER you memorize the initial list, that is fine, but don't start by programming so many shortcuts that you can't remember and use them.
Etcetera.
The most important thing I set up last night was my Phone app favorites list. I set up several numbers to dial quickly, by simply pressing Phone and one button - A for Alan, Q for Alan at work (because it's easy to remember and right over the A), S for Sunny, W for Wendy, J for Jenny, M for Michelle, B for Brien, P for Parents, and O for Office. That's it, because a shortcut dialing list that is too long defeats the purpose, and those are the people I call the most. For those of you thinking of creating your own favorites quick dial list, on your Palm Centro or your own phone, note that I programmed the most frequently used numbers, not the numbers of the people who live closest to me and I see the most often. For example, I call EBeth on occassion, but usually I just see her, so I don't need her on speed dial.
My tip for an effective speed dial list: program in numbers for the people you call at least once a week and get familiar with those shortcuts. If you want to add more people AFTER you memorize the initial list, that is fine, but don't start by programming so many shortcuts that you can't remember and use them.
Etcetera.