When I am an old woman...

C works as a manager at a large home improvement store in town. Oftentimes he'll come home with stories about an obnoxious customer or a crazy order or some other work-related shenanigans. Last night he came home and was a little upset because a woman had returned a large order of blinds that she'd had for over a year and that had nothing wrong with them. This was going to hurt the store's budget, which screws up bonuses, quotas, etc. so he was a little "peeved." So why'd she return the blinds you ask?

Apparently this woman had paid for tiles to be installed in her house. The installer did it wrong, and then was "unhelpful" when that was pointed out. From how C told it, he tried to half-ass the repair and then told her where she could put her opinions on how she'd like her tile to look. So this woman returned the tile. And everything she'd bought at the store. Ever. She hired a flat bed, loaded it with cabinets, refrigerators, blinds, tiles, even a toilet that she pulled out of her bathroom, and returned. it. all. Point made.

I dream of being that determined to make my point. Can you imagine how pissed off she must have been to rip out her toilet and take it to the customer service desk?

Good for what ails ya

Goofy baby faces

Brand new friends

Cowboys

Dusty hikes

Giant pink flowers and baby overalls

Also good phone calls, fruit stands, comfort food, and Lost on Roku. Thank you to everyone who checked in on me. I'm feeling much better.

Today was hard

I woke up early, as usual. Got the kids ready, kissed the family, and set off for an easy Friday. I stopped to buy cookies for a potluck lunch. Even so, today was a hard day.

It's been a trying week. I've been disillusioned by the way people are treating each other. I've been frustrated by the inmates and their overall lack of motivation. I've been frustrated by my coworkers and their overall lack of motivation. I'm angry because sometimes it all seems so futile and I don't want to become jaded and cynical. I'm angry because of how people feel like they're entitled to treat other people like shit.

On top of all that, and likely a causal factor, is that I am tired. Capital T Tired. I wake up every night at 1:00, 2:00, 3:30, and then the alarm goes off at 4:00. I've been keeping up with the running, but with little progress to show for it. I got on the scale this morning to find I haven't lost any weight at all in the last week. So tired, AND frustrated.

So I get to work today, hoping for a typical Friday. Most people work 4 10 hour days so Fridays are very short staffed. Which means a very quiet office. Most weeks, except of course this one, I've finished most of my work so Friday can be dedicated to studying, hanging on the unit, and getting a headstart on the next week. But not this week. I started off behind, hoping to catch up today. I came into the office to find out that one of our long standing patients had attempted to kill herself the night before. This happens quite a lot, but usually is more of a gesture than an attempt (think scratching your arm with a piece of plastic vs. slitting your wrists). This time though it was a serious attempt and she likely would have died if she hadn't been found. While I and a couple coworkers were talking about the suicide attempt, we got a call that there'd been an attack on the unit. We had a conversation about which inmates' crimes really got to us, and how I could work there with little kids at home. Later I found out one of my favoritite inmates had also tried to hurt herself.

Today was one of those days that reminds me that I don't work "in the real world." I know a lot of murderers. I even like quite a few of them. I carry an alarm, a whistle, and a huge key ring through doors that have to be remotely opened for me. People regularly flood their cells, smear poop, and cut themselves open. Yesterday I took brooms off the unit because a woman keeps threatening people with them.

Because of all these things, I find it hard to relate to people sometimes. I pick up my kids from daycare and look at the other moms, in their workout clothes, cute sandals, "business casual." I think, "I spent three hours with a woman who stabbed her boyfriend, I worked my ass off to get someone to take a shower, I watched a woman fight an endless battle against unseen demons, I listened to a woman who killed her kids talk about what a great mother she is. How 'bout you?" We ask how each other's day was and I give the standard "Great!" or if I can't muster up the enthusiasm "Busy!" Today I couldn't even do that. Today I was sad. Just plain sad.

In psychology we talk about "self-care" and "burnout." It's especially important when you're doing psychology in prisons. Luckily I recognized it before it got too bad. I needed to come home, veg out, sleep in tomorrow. I'm getting Syd's picture taken, hanging out with Eli, maybe going to the beach. And I'm going to recharge my batteries so that Tuesday I can go back and start again. Because I love my job. Today was hard, this week was hard, but I love my job.

Truth in advertising

You may have noticed that I changed my profile picture. We took this today, and I love it. It may be the first time since Syd was born that a picture was taken without one of us looking freakish. I like it too because it's exactly how I see myself as a mom. Little hippy, little soccer mom, two awesomely awesome kids. It's not 100% accurate though...

Post cropping

Original

Obviously "housekeeper" isn't prominent in my personal identity

Three months

Syd turned three months old last week. I can't believe it's flown by so quickly. She still seems so tiny, but when I look back I'm amazed by how much she's changed.

She's still not amused by my need to accesorize, obviously.

She's very alert. She's always checking out what's going on, and often has a very studious look on her face while she's watching the world. She's totally happy to sit and watch most of the time. When she's not though, boy she let's you know it. She stares at Eli with pure adoration. When she looks at C, she's always got this expectent smile like he's about to do the funniest thing (and he usually is). Me? I get the full body smile when she knows I'm going to pick her up. She's got the greatest grin, and it always looks like she's thinking "Isn't this the coolest thing ever?"

She started to roll yesterday. She seems pretty impressed with herself when she does it, and then hangs out on her tummy for awhile. We're one step closer to mobility. Dum dum dum... The Bob Marley thing has become something of an obsession, and lately she won't nap unless the reggae's rocking and the swing's swinging. We'll see how that goes at daycare, which she starts tomorrow. I'm a little bit in denial about it but I think we're all ready to settle into a routine. We've toured her class, C met her teacher, and I'm in the process of packing her bag and filling out her paperwork. I wish we could have done a couple of practice days, but I know she'll be fine. With Eli I've learned that kids adapt much quicker than the parents do. She'll probably have a great time, and I know she's going to love watching all the other babies.

No explanation needed

I got nuthin' (now with gratuitous kid pictures!)

I have all these posts floating around in my head, but none have really materialized. I could talk about how "Bulk Pick-up Day" sent me into an existential and moral crisis, complete with self-rightousness and empty promises to change how we live. I could talk about how I've been wearing the same three outfits to work because I won't bring myself to buy more clothes in the very large size that currently fits over my giant ass. I could talk about how I've started an exercise program and gained weight, which is actually the opposite of motivating, especially when said exercise program requires one to wake up, and sweat, at 4:oo am. I could talk about our camping trip, which we excitedly planned at the very last minute. I rushed home from work, C shopped and packed the car, we loaded everyone up, drove around the block, and gave up. Came home and rented a movie instead. I could talk about how pumping's going, including having my boss stand outside my door asking my very shy male co-worker "But what is she DOING in there?! Why does she have this sign up? Well, if she's breastfeeding that's one thing, but what is she doing?" I could talk about how Syd has decided this whole sleep-with-Mama- boob-in-mouth thing is for the birds. However, sleeping-alone-no-boob for longer than 20 minutes is also unacceptable. I could talk about how C is kicking ass at the stay-home dad gig, but part-time daycare costs almost as much as full-time, but part-time work doesn't pay as much as full-time work. I could write about all of that, but really? Life is pretty good. I'm happy. Work is good. The kids are fabulous. C rocks. Yesterday in the car I realized I was smiling for no reason. Just smiling. Syd was sleeping and Eli was in the back singing Buffalo Soldier ("Buffalo Soldja, Dressed like a race car. Buffalo Soldja, in the hawt of Amewica" even better because he doesn't talk like that), and life was good.
He won a raffle! He was much more excited than this picture suggests.

Baby in overalls. Is there anything cuter?