Friday, July 31, 2009
Saturday, July 25, 2009
I believe I previously mentioned that I went to school for Public Relations. I do have a deep love for this, but I never got the foot in the door after college. Then the next thing I know I'm married and pregnant. So much for writing media packets, event planning, and fixing disasters (I can't even think of the name of that right now. Oye vey!) CRISIS MANAGEMENT! Duh. Okay, anyway I still yearn to practice PR. The other day I noticed that as a parent you are constantly practicing public relations skills. Most specifically "spinning" things to be appealing to your child.
1) Spinning - My son will avoid trying new foods, because he doesn't know what they are. Even desserts! I have to tell him what it is, or is similar to, in his favorites category. For instance, we were at a festival last night and tried a deep fried Snickers. I asked him if he wanted a bite. He shook his head. "It's like cake," I said. He takes a bite.
2) Promotion - You are the spokesman for your child. All children act out at times or do something unsavory in the presence of other parents. In order to maintain face you must a) accept responsibility for the actions of your child b) do some sort of punishment visable to all around and appropriate (not an easy task) and c) vow that they will never do it again or will try to do better. Just like in being a spokesperson for a company. You can promise things all you want, but you don't have any real control. That's why they need a PR person in the first place.
3) Party Planning - Children's birthday parties. Need I say more? Everything has to have a theme, and be original.
4) Crisis Management - Being a parent you deal with crises on a regular basis. It can be anything from a real emergency that requires medical attention to lost lovies. I was making breakfast once when my son was just over a year old. We have cabinet locks on our doors, but since I was cooking bacon I'd left it open for a min so I could easily throw away the package. I put the bacon in the pan and turned around to see my son sitting there with a Cascade Power Pack ripped open. Just as I looked he swiped some of the detergent off the floor and into his mouth. He spit most of it out, but I was freaked! So I grabbed the box, and read the emergency advice. It said give them milk if it is ingested. So I gave him some milk, and then I called Poison Control. They said that he should be fine, since it was just a bit and I had done the right thing by giving him the milk. By keeping a level head, I had avoided making a mistake into a crisis. I could have freaked out and went off screaming for someone to call an ambulance, but I just read the label.
5) Media Relations - Sending out regular emails full of pictures to family and friends.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
It's a good thing I'm so scatterbrained lately, or I might have nothing to write about. Or, maybe I would have more to write about if I didn't forget it. I can't remember. Anyway, yesterday I was having a lazy day. You know where you take a shower, and put on clean pajamas. Do nothing, but the bare minimum around the house, etc. Around 4 o'clock I took Byron outside to enjoy the heat minus the sun. (We are very fair people, sun isn't our friend.) I was paying some bills, and I kept writing 7/21/09 on the checks. Thinking to myself "the 21st...hmmm...why does that ring a bell." It took a while, but suddenly it hit me. "OH $#&@! I forgot to get Ryan's tonnage." I glanced at my phone. 5:06 p.m. Are they closed already? So I called real quick. They are open until 5:30 p.m. So now I have a dilemma. Can I make it there by 5:30? My son was soaking wet in nothing but a tshirt and a diaper. I was in pajamas with hair that air dried, and no make-up. Not even mascara. I don't leave my house without mascara. I just don't! (I'm not high maintenance it's just a quirk I have, because my eye lashes are so light colored people tell me I look sick without it.)
"Screw it, I'll give it a shot!"
So I start running around. I put the baby, who happened to be the only one dressed for the day, in her car seat. Then I tackled Byron and put him in a dry diaper and clothes.
"FIND YOUR SHOES BYRON," I yelled. He stood there looking at me dumb founded as I'm hopping around trying to put my own pants on and my flip flops at the same time.
"NEVER MIND THERE ARE SHOES IN THE CAR. GO TO THE CAR!"
I didn't lock my doors, I just set the security system and left the TV on to scare away intruders. Then I put the baby in, and chased my son into the car. I zipped out of the garage at exactly 5:13 p.m.
I arrived at the office at 5:25 p.m. and rushed the kids out of the car. Only when I got inside the Department of Licensing office, did I realize that I had forgotten the form showing I paid our Heavy Road Use Tax.
Horror crossed my face. "Oh no. All that for nothing?! Now I'll have to come back tomorrow!"
"What's wrong?" Asked the lady behind the counter.
"I forgot my Heavy Road Tax," I said.
"Oh don't worry, you don't have to have it in til October this year. Just fax it to us so you don't forgot again."
So I bought the tonnage and went back home. Almost a non event! That's what I get for being scatterbrained.
Monday, July 13, 2009
I've always been a crier. I cry when I'm happy. I cry when I'm sad. I cry when I'm frustrated. I cry when I'm mad. It's just how I am, and it's kind of embarrassing. Once, when I had just moved from Washington to Iowa during my Sophomore year of high school, I had to write a paper about someone that I look up to. Well, I wrote it about my gymnastics coach. She was like a second mom to me when I was little. I spent so many hours in her care that I would call her mom by accident. I loved her. So I wrote this paper, in a class of people I didn't know, and was then asked to read it aloud. I cried. It probably doomed me from having friends at that school. Not only was I the "new kid" but I was the "new kid" who cries about stupid papers.
So you get the idea about how much I cry. Well, this story is about how proud I am that I did NOT cry.
Friday I went to Costco. Going to Costco is a big deal, because I only go once every 6-8 weeks and I have to drive an hour or more to get there. We don't have one any closer than that, and so I often have to pick up things for other people. This trip my sister asked me to get her a GPS and I was going to buy my husband an iPod. I did my detailed trip through the store. Sure not to miss any items. Just as I was finishing the last of my list the baby started fussing. Time to feed her again. Perfect timing, since we were nearly done.
Well, I got my groceries on the belt. All rung up, and I swiped my debit card. Declined. I swiped it again. Declined. I swiped it a third time; very quickly, in case the speed made a difference. DECLINED!! I was starting to freak out. I couldn't use credit, because you must have a PIN, and I don't know mine. I couldn't write a check, because I was using my moms floating card. So I look at the cashier and say "I don't know what to do; it's not taking it. I can't write a check, because it's a business card." Lillie is screaming at the top of her lungs. It is hotter than the devil's ass in the store. I am sweating. People behind me in line are tapping their feet. I feel like I want the Earth to swallow me whole.
"I just put my husband's paycheck in, so I don't understand" I say.
"Of course you do ma'am," she says (I know this must have been sarcastic). "Okay, we'll call the manager to void it. Can you get cash to pay for it?"
"Yes, I can get cash out" I say. "Where is the ATM?"
"All the way down at the end, by customer service. Push your cart over there while you get it."
So I pushed my cart over by the area where you pick up the expensive items after you pay. Then I hauled the kids out of the cart. My son is upset, of course, because he thinks we are leaving without his giant box of fruit snacks. So I have to convince him that we are coming back for them. We go down to the ATM, and I swipe my card. My son pushes the red button. I swipe my card again to start over. My son pushes the green button. I tell him not to touch the buttons. I swipe my card again, and he reaches for the buttons...I hiss "DON'T TOUCH THE STUPID BUTTONS OR YOU WON'T GET TO TAKE THE FRUIT SNACKS HOME!"
I take out $380 (the total of my purchase was $619) and it says I have reached my limit for the day. SAY WHAAAAT?! I feel the lump rising in my throat. I start saying to myself "stay calm dammit. You're not going to cry!"
So I go over to the customer service. They, so helpfully, tell me that I should just buy my own membership! That way I can write a check. Instead I decide to call my bank. Apparently, my card has a $605/day limit. Who knew?! I went to two other stores before Costco. She said she wouldn't take the limit off for me, so I had to take the GPS and iPod out of my purchase and buy the groceries. Of course, Lillie was REALLY mad by now. Inconsolable. I was just glad to be out of there with my groceries, and without shedding a tear.
Then I went to my friend's wedding on Saturday, and teared up when she walked in! You can't hold them in all the time!
Monday, July 6, 2009
Hoovy is a Hoover HeatSurge carpet cleaner.
Hoovy was purchased as a luxury item about 5 months ago. I had just thrown away our crappy Little Green, after months of it oozing black stuff onto my cream colored carpet, and was fretting over the decision to buy a new one. Should I buy another little one? Do I want to spend the money to get a full sized carpet cleaner? These are tough decisions for the frugal minded. So after pacing up and down the isle in Wal Mart I finally hoisted it into the cart and walked quickly away beore I could change my mind.
Even as the unopened box sat in my car for the rest of the evening (because I didn't feel like bringing it in yet, since that is admitting your purchase) I debated if it was a good purchase. The next morning I woke up, fed the dogs and kiddo, and assembled Hoovy. Little did I know this would be a pivotal moment in my life.
The very next day my son tipped over a vase with nearly dead flowers in it, which happened to contain lillies. The pollen from the lillies mixed with the water in the vase and made a bright-ass yellow stain on my CREAM carpet. "Shit, that is never going to come out," I say to myself. Low and behold Hoovy came through for me on his first day on the job. Not a trace of yellow to be found.
Since then I have cleaned up many messes with it.
Last week, my husband walked across our carpet, again very CREAM colored, with grease on his boots. Murder was considered, but instead I put dish soap on it and sicked Hoovy on it. Success. It got it all out! A miracle to say the least.
However, I am beginning to resent my relationship with Hoovy since we got our new "puppy." I've been spending a good portion of my day cleaning up unidentifiable stains. I feel like carpet cleaning is my part-time job. In the last 3 days I have cleaned up: juice, tomato sauce, dog barf, dog pee, baby poop, and chocolate pudding (my husband again).
Maybe Hoovy and I should start charging for our services!
Thursday, July 2, 2009
A while ago I wrote about how much easier parenting two kids was than I expected. I would like to retract my previous statement and replace it with this. "AHHHHHHHH! HELP ME!" You see, while many of the things I expected to be hard about two kids are not as bad as expected. The thing is my daughter is growing up, and needs more attention. I have a really hard time getting things done, besides holding her.
I'm failing miserably at keeping my house clean! I basically do damage control all the time, and if company is coming I try to get it as clean as possible. It's just not up to my standards, and it's driving me nuts! The dust! You should see the dust piling up! This is not a priority. My priorities are as follows:
1) dishes/kitchen clean
3) garbage picked up
4) main living areas tidy
5)main living areas vacuumed
7) everything else is a bonus
When you type it out it doesn't sound like a lot to do, but then do all those things mixed in with feeding a toddler every 30 min, and a baby every 2 hours (or less right now). Plus, changing 2 sets of diapers! (My kids are being poop machines the last couple of days. It's ridiculous that their little bodies contain that much poo!) And then holding the baby while you do things or wearing her in the sling, which is okay, but not as good as her working on her motor skills alone.
Also, my son recently decided that he doesn't like to go play outside by himself anymore. Darn I knew nothing good could come of me making an effort to play with him more! Those parenting specialists don't know what they are talking about! He used to go out there and play for 30min to an hour with his dump truck and tractors, but now he wants me to go out there with him. I know it's cute, but it's messing with my "to do list."
My mom was telling me that I need to enjoy this time, and those moments where I'm just holding them or playing. I do! But...I also became slightly OCD about having a clean house when I got married. I'm afraid my MIL is going to surprise me with a visit someday (she has never done this, but still) and my house is going to be so messy she keels over. She's the cleanest person I know! How do you live up to that when you have two small children?
YOU CAN'T! If you are able to then you are either 1) on some kind of drug that keeps you up all night 2) from another planet or 3) a freakishly organized person and I think you're also an alien.
Anyway, all this adds up to the fact that I'm tired. T-I-R-E-D! And it's messing with my blogging mojo. I have a hard time getting on the computer at all, and it's impossible to blog from my iPhone! When I do get up here my mind is numb, and I feel like I have nothing funny to say. So hopefully the sporadic posts are keeping you somewhat entertained. It's the best I've got for now!