Milestone Week

It's been a busy week and I haven't had a chance to blog about all the things that have happened. For instance, I wanted to tell everyone why they shouldn't buy anything from Home Depot Expo... but I'll get to that another day after I get my refund. I'm sure you'll enjoy the story. Really, what I wanted to do today is make sure my Mother is happy... so I'm going to tell everyone about the Little Piggy's milestone week.

Two weeks ago the Little Piggy was sick. She didn't want to eat or anything. Starting Monday (April 21st) she bounced back with a vengeance. Now she won't eat any baby food, she wants regular people food. When you try to give her anything mashed, she ever so elegantly blows on the spoon so that it sprays directly on your face. As I said before, it's an art to feed her but now she eats pasta, turkey burgers, hot dogs, beans, chicken, pizza (without cheese of course), avocado, turkey meatloaf/meatballs and anything else you put within 5 feet of her.

She even had the guts to belt out "Mommy" last Monday and has proceeded with "Mama" whenever she is not asked to say it. So, of course, when people hear she says "Mama" they say, "Little Piggy, say Mama. Maaaaa maaaaa" and they go on and on... but no, the Little Piggy just sits there and smiles. She refuses to do anything on demand. She has her own schedule.

Today she has moved from a crib to a cot at the school. She's 7 months old and she's out of the crib, on the floor with the rest of the kids. I put her on the cot this morning and she gets on all fours and rocks back and forth like she's about to launch herself off of the thing. Get ready for this crazy kid. She'll probably be crawling today (or rather when ever she feels like it). It was a bit scary when I had to sign a permission slip to put her on the cot this morning. It's as if they want to warn you that you have now reached the point of no return. Thanks! I appreciate the encouragement.

Anyway, I'll hopefully blog later this week about Home Depot Expo and why no one should ever spend their money there.

-s

Chinese Buffet

It's my birthday again (thank you all for the birthday wishes) and I like to tell this story every year because it ends up happening again and again every year. For my birthday, every year my parents plan dinner and the plan is pretty interesting. Here's how it goes: The day before (or day of) the time they want to go out to dinner, my Mom gives me a call and say "It's your birthday, we want to go out to eat." I say "Okay, sounds good." Now.. the interchange at this stage is a bit strange. For one, she tells me it's my birthday as if I already do not know. Next, she says they want to go out to eat.... not, we want to take you out to eat. Very interesting. But I digress... Next she talks about where they are going to go out to eat for my birthday should I choose to join them. "Your dad and brother want Chinese Buffet, so that's where we're going." Now if anyone finds this weird that they are choosing where they'll take me out to eat on my birthday (because that is where my dad and brother want to go), please tell me. I ask, who made them the decision makers? Just because they're paying? But I thought it's a treat for me? Lots of questions come to mind. But I guess that's not so bad since there is one thing I'm leaving out... one very important part. I absolutely HATE Chinese Buffet! I'm fine with Chinese food. Actually I like Chinese food. But it's something about the cleanliness of buffets and the people that frequent those places (very large and slobbery people) that just turns me off. My parents and family really enjoy buffets because they say they like the variety. I say it's because they can't make up their minds!!! Make up your mind, order a dish and be done with it. You don't need 40 different choices of dried up food that's been sitting around for 3 days to be happy. AHHHH!!!!!

Okay, now that I got that out I can move on to this year. Well this year is slightly different but has a similar tone to it. My mom called and said pizza was the order... and that I'd make it at their house. Okay, I can do that. At least I like pizza at their house. But the thing that really got me this year was my husband. He said to me "My parents want to take you out to dinner for your birthday." Then he proceeded to say "I thought we'd do Chinese or Mexican." Wow... this disease of taking me out to dinner where you want to go has spread beyond my parents, but to my husband and even my in-laws. Somebody stop this! Well I addressed the situation the only way I know how, by whining and complaining: "But I don't wanna go to Chinese for my birthday. I want to go somewhere I like for my birthday. Why does everyone keep insisting to take me out where they want to go?! Don't I get a say in this? Can I just not go at all?" In the end, the whining worked. We went out for seafood and I got to have soft shell crab; one of my favorites.

I guess we can all learn a few lessons from this story. Here's a quick etiquette guide for inviting someone out to dinner for their birthday:
(1) First position it that you would like to take them out to dinner. Not that you want to go out to dinner and are using the excuse of their birthday to do it.
(2) Then ask them what they'd like to have for dinner. Is there some place in particular that they'd like to go?
(3) Don't ever force them to eat Chinese Buffet. The dry old food and sweaty fat people touching it is repulsive and no one normal likes it.
(4) Don't put people to work for their birthday. (Example: Don't invite them over to your place to make pizza for 15 people.)

Now I'm off to go make everyone pizza for my birthday. I think we've made progress this year. I'm working for my birthday but at least it's not Chinese Buffet!
-s

Put it in "the book"

There are always things that you say you're going to do when you have a child but end up not doing them because you simply don't have time. When I was pregnant I always wanted to take pictures of my belly growing each week and then in the end, come out with a video. When I had the baby I wanted to make sure she used all of her clothes and didn't out grow anything before she got to wear it once. Then there were other ludicrous things that I thought I would do like write a story of my experience of being pregnant so that my daughter would be able to read it one day. Oh yea and I always planned on getting professional photos of her done and sending it out to everyone in the family. There are so many things that I wanted to do and actually planned to do but never actually did. My mom thinks that I did all of these things. Why? No particular reason. I never told her that I would do them or committed to it. She just assumes that I did these things. One particular thing that she thinks I'm doing with the abundance of time that I have is writing the baby's firsts in a book. Like when she first smiles or first waves. My Mom thinks I'm writing down the date and what happened in some pretty little book that will never be looked at until I have grandchildren. Yea... she even goes to the point of calling me to remind me to put things in "the book". It always seems that she reminds me to write things down when they're about her. Well, I broke the news to her on Saturday we were at my cousins engagement party that there wasn't any book. I didn't want to break her heart and all but she kept insisting that I don't forget to put down in "the book" that the baby reached out to her today for the first time. Now... I'm not sure why the first time the baby reaching out to my mother would be something I would want to write down but she said it about 15 times and I almost went nuts! So, to stop her from spinning out of control, I simply stated "what book?" OMG... what a face she gave me. It was like I stole her last cookie. She was so upset and hurt. "Mom," I proceeded to say. "I never created a book of dates for the baby." She then went off on me... After all the how could you, why didn't you and I'm upsets, I stopped her and said that I remember all the dates and I'll write them down as soon as I got home. I think she was satisfied with that muttering something along the lines of "I did it for you" (by the way, I never saw this so called book of dates that she made for me). So... on April 12, 2008, on the Little Piggy's 7 month birthday, she reached out to Nonna to be picked up. She also waved to everyone at the party while she ate her bottle like a goat (you know like how a goat stretches out its neck to eat from a bottle at the game farm). I think she even says "Hi" every once in a while... it's more like a screeching "Hiiiiiiiiiii" but hey.. in the spirit of writing things down, she first started that on March 29th after my sisters bridal shower. She also first sat up on her own sometime in early March (probably the first week of March). She started singing "La, la, la" about a week and a half ago, right around the same time that she started puffing up her cheeks and blowing hard to turn her face red and spray us all with food. Oh!! and her 3rd ear infection happened yesterday! How exciting!!

So... I wrote it down now stop bothering me.
-s

Adult Teething

The Little Piggy is teething. It's a joyous time for all of us. Sleepless nights, the endless stuffy nose and drool to fill a swimming pool. All a lot of fun. We go through about 15 bibs a day... now I know why everyone gave us so many bibs before she was born. My favorite part are the teething cookies. They look all unassuming with their hard composition and yummy flavor. Finally something that won't break up in large chunks so there are no worries that she'll choke on it. I get her prepped with one of those ultimate bibs with plastic on one side, roll up her sleeves, wipe her nose and place her in the high chair. I put the cookie down in front of her and she picks it up right away. Yey! Now I can wash the dishes!

5 minutes go by. My back is too her so I take a glance back to see how she's doing. I scream "Ahhh!!" where'd the baby go!?! My brain working double-time to figure out what creature has taken her place in the highchair. Then I notice earrings and possibly something that resembles a hand. Then two little eyes peek out and a shrill "eeeekkk" comes out of something that looks like a mouth. It's her! The baby is covered with cookie from head to toe! The Little Piggy is very happy, she's singing "la, la, la, la" while she sprays me with cookie.

I stop the dish washing to inspect the damage. Covering her face, hands and arms, hidden in her neck, used to style her hair, tucked into her ears, up her nose. Yes, she hasn't missed a spot. Good girl!

I wash her down as much as I can as she shakes her head to avoid me. It's an art; washing her down. Or maybe it's more of a skill. Like a video game where you have to hit two buttons at once while you move the controller to get the guy to jump and shoot at the same time.

You have to get the hands and the table clean almost at the same time while washing the face. Otherwise the hands touch the table and then go right to the face. You can get the hair, neck and arms later. They're out of the initial impact zone. I clean her up as much as I can and then I pick her up.

She ever so lovingly hugs me and pulls me close. I say "awww, did you like the cookie?" As if to tell me yes, she snuggles my shoulder and then suddenly, before I could even think, she opens her mouth and starts singing and spraying into my shoulder! Snots, cookie and saliva all coat my sleeve with such fine precision. I have just enough time to think "now I know why I'm not that trendy mom with the cool clothes" before she wipes her hand across her face and grabs onto my hair cooing and petting me with cookie.

Oh it was terrible fun and after all of this, she still doesn't have any teeth! This enjoyable weekend got me thinking... What if adults went through teething? I don't mean just some of us, I mean all of us. Imagine at around 30 years old, people started drooling, spitting, whining. Adult bibs would be the in thing and I wouldn't have to worry about messing up my clothes as everyone would have messy clothes. The news highlights would say "Neighbors were woken up by a man covered in teething cookie shrieking at the top of his lungs. Police were called in and found John Doe had killed his wife Jane Doe by smothering her with a teething cookie. When asked why he did it, John explained that they were both teething and in terrible pain. She wouldn't give him the cookie so he killed her with it and then took it from her." There would be laws on the books that said that teething cookies were illegal. There would be an underground crime ring that imported teething cookies from some third world country. The government would quarantine anyone that was teething and only release them when their teeth came out. It would be pretty horrible.

Well, I think you get the picture. If you ever need a teething cookie, just let me know. We have 3 boxes at home.

-s

Last day...

So today is my last day working on any of the old projects. I've wanted to do a countdown every day until today but that would have been a bit much. I sent out a note to tell everyone it's the last day and I even used the subject "last day...". Finally the old mgr, we'll call him BJ, decided to take initiative to transfer work over to other team members. BJ's had about a month an a half notice to get this done and hasn't taken even 10 minutes to understand what there is to transition. So today he decides is the day to transition, talk about procrastination! Well good luck getting in touch with me BJ. I'm busy now...

Although moving on to a new challenge was in the cards for me, It's sad to be leaving. I feel like I've left the company and wonder if I should have left the company (we'll talk about that in future blogs). I'm sitting in my new cubicle in this new area with new faces and it's a scary feeling. I haven't been the newbie in 7 years! It's quite a change.

I've been learning the new role, at a snails pace (in my eyes). I hope it picks up a bit soon because I might bore myself to death. My blogs are even getting boring; somebody stop this!!!

Well, I've committed to giving this a chance for at least 90-days... so to support my countdown initiative Monday is day 90. Rather, to make this more positive, we'll do a count up... Monday is day 1.

-s

Efwhyohten

I know that I'm quite anal retentive at times... or most times. I guess I was made to be this way (that's my excuse at least). At first it started with my job. One of the many responsibilities that I took on (because no one else was doing it) was finding what is wrong with a project and pointing it out to be fixed. Kind of like a business QA person. Well that is what started it all... now I find myself correcting the way people speak, critiquing driving skills, editing emails that my friends and family send me... and to not be a hypocrite, it takes me FOREVER to get anything done because it always has to be perfect. I've turned into a Correction Monster... and it scares me. Well, at least I'm not a Cookie Monster.. they're getting rid of him (did you hear that!?! It's crazy, they want to replace him with a veggie monster or something like that. That makes me angry. I like cookies damn it!).

Anyway, on to my original thought... this correction monster I've become causes me the most internal pain that anyone could imagine. It actually hurts when someone makes a mistake and I can't correct them because I have to be nice. So, today, I'm very annoyed by people who have called Fiscal Year 2010, FY010. They're probably making an honest mistake because they were saying FY09, or FY0something for so long so they don't realize that the year 2010 isn't the year 010 but I can't take it anymore!!! Stop it people, it's not efwhyohten (FY010), it's efwhyten (FY10) or efwhytwothousandten (FY2010).

Okay.. now that I got that out I can continue talking to these people and assume that they've already received my correction.

-s/cm

Does not play well with others

I just received my performance appraisal from my current manager today so I figured I'd share the fun.

The appraisal starts out with the highest scores in all areas. I received the highest score for team work, highest score for building productive working relationships but then suddenly there is a negative (how could he- gasp!). Apparently, I simply can't resolve conflicts with others!

The summary goes on to say that I'm known as a "difficult person to manage" but my current manager doesn't believe that... nooooooo... he thinks that's a farce and that's why he wrote it in my review. The only area he suggests that I look to improve upon is my communication skills when I'm upset or frustrated. Okay, so I agree with that. I need to stop scaring people into doing their jobs. I also need to stop using my list so often. Well, I know I can do that and will... this is my pledge!

Okay... so now onto the really good part of the review... two comments that made me laugh and wonder out loud...
- I am a "smart person that has the commitment to get things done that may “irritate” people".
- I should learn "by observing how other executives (that have good personality skills) react in similar situations."

This is very Dilbert-esque if I may say so myself.
I don't know if anyone has found it yet but I need a solution to my personality issue. I have to develop my "personality skills" as they are not currently "good".

You know what, while you're all googling to see how one can change their "personality skills" I'm gonna take my irritating, unmanageable, uncommunicative, bad personality self and get the heck out of here!

-s

I'm not paying $19.95 for my kid to be the cutest kid...

Not that $19.95 is expensive or that my kid isn't cute but it's the idea of having to pay to be part of the contest. The money doesn't go to charity or anything. No, it goes to the person that founded http://www.thecutekid.com/. This person simply found another way to make money from stupid parents! They even have a parent "Christine" on their website that thanks them for having a "safe outlet" for moms to show off their kids. That's ridiculous! What part of posting the picture on their website is safer than any other website?!

Or maybe I should ask, what part of posting your kids picture online isn't safe? Perhaps you're worried about the people who will see the picture. Well then Christine, anyone with a computer can simply click on the "gallery" and view every kid on the site. So maybe we should petition (as good mom's are really good at doing that) to rename thecutekid.com to welcomepedophiles.com.

Give me a break... these people make me sick.

Okay, so that I'm not an angry mom that can't stand other mom's and won't shell out the $19.95, here is a picture of the cutest kid for 2008!

-s

Goodfrigginmorning....

Every morning it is a challenge when getting ready for work and therefore every morning has a story to go along with it. This morning was particularly painful and it was pretty apparent when I walked into work... so apparent that I figured I'd write a description so that you all can share in my misery.

It all started at 4:10 am when the first alarm went off… a poopy diaper, snotty nose, suction, and three pineapple-cantaloupe-apple-banana sneezes later we’re ready to leave the house. Little do I notice that although the baby is looking semi-normal this morning despite the craziness, I’m quite a mess.

I walked into daycare thinking “Yes! I made it!” as I do every morning. I take off my shoes as you can’t have your “outdoor” shoes on in the classroom, and I notice a nice pair of red and green polka dotted socks. So, shamefully I walk into the classroom, put the child down and get everything set to leave. The teacher asks me if I’m okay, I mutter something about still being sick and tell her I’ll be down for lunch. I walk to my desk and on the way notice a few very noticeable flaws… (1) I’m holding the suction thingy used for to suction the snots out of the baby’s nose, (2) my pants are unbuttoned/buckled, (3) my hair is half down and half up in some sort of rats nest looking do, (4) I have nice splatters of pineapple-cantaloupe-apple-banana delight on my suit jacket, (5) my jacket has a spit up stain that has probably been there for a while and is pretty nasty and last but not least (6) I’m late for a conference call.

Oh what fun. So I take my unbuttoned, polka dotted, rats nest, pineapple-cantaloupe-apple-banana delight splattered, spit up stained, very late to my own call self and get to my desk just in time to remind Intern Jon of the most important things he should never do… Don’t get married, don’t buy a house, don’t have a kid. Remember Intern Jon, if you avoid these three things you’ll never turn out like me, which today, is a good thing.

-s