Day Three: this is your brain on work
My alarm went off at 5:45, and believe it or not, that was one of the highlights of my day. At that point, I still believed myself a capable human. It was a good–if brief–belief.
This morning I was a paragon of organization. I ordered Chickadee to TAKE HER PILL RIGHT NOW before I’d given her anything to drink so that she could swallow it. I took out a box of pop-tarts for Monkey that was… empty. So I threw it away and took out a second box that was… also empty. Then I took out a THIRD box (shut UP) and put it on the table for him and asked him later why he wasn’t eating. It was, of course, because it was a new, sealed box and he couldn’t open it. Then I packed his lunch and put it in Chickadee’s backpack (caught that, luckily).
I surmised that my difficulty might be due to lack of caffeine, so I made myself a big cup of tea. First, I left it on my bathroom counter after I finished drying my hair. Then I left it on the mudroom bench as we were pulling out of the garage. Once I retrieved it, I discovered I’d chosen the only mug in my cupboard that doesn’t fit into my cup holders. I only spilled a little.
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It’s my second-favorite way to wake up
Him: *pad pad pad* Hi Mama… I heard your alarm… but I think you need a snuggle.
Me: Hmmm? Oh, okay, baby.
Him: *climbing under the covers and folding himself into the space between my knees and my chest* I had a bad dream but I did what you said!
Me: *wrapping my arms around his sleep-warmed body* What’s that?
Him: I told the monster I was just little and he should GO AWAY! And he did!
Me: That’s great, honey!
Him: Yes. Mama? You’re soft.
Hold on tight
I am exhausted.
I am physically exhausted, because I’m not sleeping enough. Funny how a job can cut into your nap time, and how having become accustomed to staying up til the wee hours makes it hard to get to bed early even when you have to get up at o’dark thirty.
I am mentally exhausted, because my brain is on overdrive. I am still reeling from the shock of my recent good fortunes. I want to say that I am merrily traipsing along, enjoying all my blessings. But the reality is that even “good” stress is still stress, and my neurons are shaking with fatigue.
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Irony: know it, love it
I will never understand how/why it is that people could take everything I say so seriously. I mean, yes, I’m so very serious here on my blog, I can see where the occasional less-than-earnest statement might just slip right by someone.
Hi, my name is Mir, and every word in this blog is 100% true! Also, please feel free to inquire about the bridge I’m offering for sale.
So, um… just to clarify: I’m not blogging about my job. Yesterday’s post was not factual. Please save your concern over me endangering my employment. Do not fret, do not adjust your television set. I do not now nor have I ever surfed porn on the web, from work or otherwise. I don’t steal office supplies. So far I adore all my coworkers and even if I didn’t, you won’t be hearing about it here.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting to get to at church tonight. I’m trying to figure out how to work Satan into this whole confirmation mentoring program. (Please limit your hate mail to a religious nature.)
Fool-proof potty training
You, too, can enjoy 10 easy steps to dryness! Because I said so!
1) Sing the joys of the potty to your toddler. Celebrate every time older sister uses the facilities.
2) Throw a party every time said toddler deigns to park his tush on the seat.
3) Buy toddler a private jet once he starts using the potty reliably.
4) Work through the “must visit every bathroom every five minutes” stage with gritted teeth and remind oneself how much you don’t miss diapers.
5) After 6 months or so, casually ask your preschooler if he thinks he might try not peeing several gallons into his pull-up every night.
6) After a year, remind yourself that nighttime training often takes longer, especially with boys. And that’s okay.
7) After a year and a half, tentatively ask the pediatrician if your son is going to be wetting the bed in college.
8) Resign yourself to the nighttime pull-up. Put more money in the therapy fund.
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I work hard for the money
I rolled into my first day of work, spent some time in HR filling out my various paperwork, and then set about getting my computer up and running. I appreciate that my new employers believed me capable of doing a complete wipe and install of my new machine, and I repaid their confidence by taking the entire rest of the day to get that stupid box to acknowledge that it was part of the office network. I especially enjoyed my chat with the offshore support rep who is the reason people like me end up unemployed for months on end.
That left me very little time to read blogs, surf porn, make long-distance calls, and chat with my friends on Instant Messenger. Fortunately I was able to squeeze in the pilfering of some office supplies before I left to pick up the kids, so the day wasn’t a total wash.
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$5 says they won’t eat it
So, um, it’s only the first day of work for me, and I was all pumped to get the kids and have some family time and I was so pleased that I had a lovely dinner planned and the evening was going to go ever so smoothly.
Right now, my planned dinner is taking longer than anticipated to cook (which isn’t really an issue since I’ve already been informed they don’t want that), neither child wanted to talk to me and insisted they needed to rest in front of the television first, and instead of mulling over my first day I am instead vascillating between dreamy reflection on my fabulous weekend and wondering if there’s a way I can get a wife in here to cook dinner for us on weeknights.
Someone tell me we’ll find our new groove soon. Lie if you have to….
Hi ho, hi ho….
Everybody play nice while I’m gone today, you hear? And don’t be leaving crumbs on the couch, either. I know when you’ve been snacking in there you know.
So sleepy. Hey, they have coffee at my new job. Huzzah!
And in other news
There’s a little game on television that people in my area seem to be quite passionate about. I’m watching it, you know, because I don’t want to be arrested or anything. But my level of involvement could best be classified as “Foothuh?” at the moment.
My desktop computer is FIXED. And the angels rejoiced, etc. This miraculous event comes on the heels of my having procured a replacement, of course. Whoops. I guess the kids are getting their own computer.
The laundry is done, the bills are paid, the trash is out, the groceries are put away, the house is tidy. Heading off to my first day of work or leaving on vacation for a month? I may have gotten a wee bit confused….
And the most important thing:
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Because it was time
If there was a great big cosmic menu from which one could order up the appropriate experience(s) at any given time, the weekend before returning to full-time employment would be a no-brainer.
There should be food. Lots of food. Good food. Preferably, there should be both wine glasses and chocolate involved.
And good company with which to share it all. Laughter is imperative. Breathlessness is icing.
Sight-seeing is optional but recommended. The accidental scenic route is just more time to spend together in the sunshine, singing along with the CD player.
Yeah. That’s about how it should be. Thank you.