I need some Spring Fever

So, you can probably tell by yesterday's post that I was a little cranky.  Some days I just feel like a time bomb about to explode with anger and sadness. Yesterday was just one of those days. I felt on the verge of tears almost all late morning and afternoon.

But I felt much better after going home and talking with Superman. He really is my rock. He really can make me feel better like no one else can.

I think that a large part of my problem is stress at work. I just wish I could force myself to not let my work stress and worry affect my interactions with my kids. Because I hate my job and I love my kids.

Just one of those days...

I guarantee you G.C. did not hate his job.

I hate my job.

I know people say "everyone hates their job."  But that is just not true.  First of all, I know plenty of people who love their jobs.  Second of all, I have had several jobs that I loved.

For instance, I loved my old job.  Were there things about it that I didn't like?  Sure, it could be a bit isolating for example.  But overall, it was a great job, very flexible, great benefits and compensation, and something very important to me: colleagues that I liked and respected and that liked and respected me.  It was just a pretty sweet gig.  And I hardly to never dreaded getting up and going to work in the morning.  Sure, I would rather have stayed home with Superman and the boys, but that can't be helped.

Why did I leave that job that I loved?  Well, as much as I loved it, and actually really liked the town we lived in in NW Ohio, we did not like being so geographically far from any family.  We moved there pre-kids, but once Thing 1 and Thing 2 came along, we knew we wanted to be closer to one of our sets of parents.  So, I started looking for a new job.

I won't go into specifics about why I don't like my job.  Dude, this is the internet, and although I highly doubt anyone from my job would ever stumble onto my blog...it could happen.

Here is my problem though.  I'm 32 years old.  I'm well educated.  I'm happily married.  I have two great kids.  But I spend 40 hours a week, wishing I was somewhere else, doing something else.  I feel like that is a problem.  If I'm going to spend 8 hours a day, 5 days a week NOT being with my kids, I want to at least enjoy what I'm doing, feel like I'm making a difference in the world, be productive and creative, and enjoy the people with whom I'm working.  Is that really too much to ask?

Life is short y'all.  We never know how many days we have left.  Or our loved ones have left.  Shouldn't we ENJOY our days as best we can?

I love crafting.  I love being creative.  I really, really, really need to figure out a way to turn my love and passion for making things into a way to make a living.  Because I'm slowly dying an emotional death in this job.  In the three years I've worked here, I've be come an unhappier person.  A more pessimistic person.  Frustrated.  Grouchy.

No wonder I'm having a hard time making friends.  I wouldn't want to be friends with someone whose always in a bad mood either!  I miss the me who used to be happy and upbeat.  Sure, I was no Pollyanna, but I was a lot more joyful once upon a time.

How do I solve this problem?  Part of my issue is that I just don't know.  I can't just quit my job, because we need the income.  I've applied for job after job after job in this area, but in three years I've only had three job interviews and not one offer.  (But even then, I worry what if I hate that job even more than this one!?!)

Part of me is pissed that I can't find a job because I know I'm a rockstar, but the longer I stay in this job and don't get interviews and job offers, the more my self-esteem and confidence diminish.  Why don't the want me?  Maybe I'm just not as awesome as I think I am.

I wish this blog was ending with a resolution of how I'm going to fix things.  But it's not.  It's going to end with a frowny face.  And me feeling sorry for myself.  And sad.  And confused.  And wishing I was at home, in front of my sewing machine, instead of at my desk wishing I was anywhere but here.

Something has to give.  And soon.  Because I refuse to be this unhappy every day.

:(

Ketchup catch-up

Thing 2's ketchup costume is finished!

One I finished making the labels (materials: felt, hot glue gun, and puffy paint), I just had to make the actual bottle shape.

I didn't have a pattern, so I literally laid my little ketchup kid down on the felt and did a police outline of his body.

Unfortunately, my ketchup kid (Thing 2) wasn't being very cooperative after the initial measurements, so luckily I had a clone happy to step in for the "fittings".

Finished product.

I plan on having Thing 2 wear a red shirt under the costume.  I'll have to have a long sleeve one on stand-by in case it gets cold.  No jacket is going on over this costume!

And, I've already finished the labels for Thing 1's mustard costume.

Seriously, I love Halloween!  When Steve Jobs tells the world to follow your passions, I think to myself "Self, why can't you find a job where you get paid to make Halloween costumes all year long?" :)

I hate mornings

I hate mornings.  But not for the same reason most people probably hate mornings.

I've always considered myself a morning person.  I'm like my dad in that way.  And it turns out that Thing 1 and Thing 2 follow in our footsteps, because those little guys wake up in amazing moods 99% of the time.  Most mornings, they don't even wake up groggy.  They just seem to pop up excited and ready to play.

But that is the problem.  They want to play.  They are happy, sweet, and playful...  and mommy is all business, trying to get ready for work and school.

It breaks my heart, because mornings are the most one-on-two time I get with them.  Superman leaves for work at about 7:15, which means it's just me and my boys until it's time to take them to school.  I want to just lay in bed and cuddle with them while they tell me about their dreams (which they always seem so excited to tell you about), or get down on the ground and play trains, or play endless scenarios of "doggy", but I can't because I'm racing the clock.

Over and over again, my meanest mommy moments (which are also the most disappointed in myself parenting moments) always happen in the morning, while trying to get them ready for school.  At the time that my kids are perhaps at their sweetest and best, I turn into Momzilla.

They don't want to get dressed (because they want to stay in their pajamas and play) so I find myself physically restraining them to put their clothes on.  They want to play, but I get angry when I walk in the living room and find that they've pushed the coffee table over to the front closet and are standing on it to get their Candy Land game off of the top shelf, spilling dozens of other games in the process.  No matter how many times I promise myself I won't lose my tempter, I invariably end up yelling at some-Thing in the morning for something.  And I hate myself for it.

Some mornings I give in to the desire to just be mommy with them and enjoy their morning mood.  Like this morning.  I had just gotten out of the shower, when I heard Thing 2's soft whispering.  He was sitting in mommy and daddy's bed, next to Thing 1 (who was still sleeping) and saying "Time to get up brother."  Within minutes, both were giggling and laughing under my covers.  So, I abandoned the urge to use the time to blow dry my hair and put on my makeup, and I hopped in bed next to them.  We played tickle monster.  Thing 2 played puppy.  Thing 1 and I took turns giving puppy commands.  We gave lots of sweet kisses.  It was heaven.

But then at some point, I thought "Ugh, we are going to be so late."  So I got up and got back to getting ready.  The rest of the morning included a Thing 2 not wanting to get dressed fit.  A Thing 1 not wanting the breakfast Superman had set out for them.  And me walking into the coffee table incident described above after I finished blow drying my hair.

Our utopic morning in bed was long forgotten as my frustration and irritation grew.

I don't know what the solution is.  Some people say "wake them up earlier so you don't feel so rushed"  However... 1. when you wake them up, they wake up grumpy, 2. we'd have to put them to bed earlier, and I already feel like I barely get any time with them in the evening.

I need a different job.  I need to be a free-lance something or other, working from home.  Or a professor, where I could set my teaching time for afternoons.  Something where I didn't have to push my happy children out of bed and into the arms of others at 8:30 am every morning.

Sometimes I really miss Superman being a stay at home dad.  The boys could stay in their pajamas as long as they wanted!  Often, I'd come home for lunch and the three of them would still be in their pajamas with disheveled hair and in the happiest of moods.

From Slacktivist to Activist

I think most people are aware of the demonstrations that went on in Madison, WI during the beginning of the year.  For weeks and weeks, throngs of protesters swarmed the state capitol to protest what they perceived to be anti-union legislation, many sleeping in the building for days on end.  Those protesters were a constant reminder to the state representatives of the large numbers of citizens who did not support the anti-union legislation they were trying to pass through.  But they passed it anyway.

Madison, WI Capitol Building - April 9, 2011

What I don't think a lot of people realize (at least I know I didn't), is that even after the legislation was pushed through and the Democrats returned to the capitol that the peaceful protests continue.

Because both Superman and I are in the fields of education, we are particularly interested in political issues that affect teachers.  Not to mention, as parents, we are interested in issues about education, since they will affect our children in a year when they start kindergarten.  So, we've definitely been following this issue from Indiana.

When preparing for the trip to Madison, I actually thought to myself that I wished the protests were still going on, because I'd never seen a real life protest before.  So, imagine my surprise to find upon our arrival, that there were indeed still protesters actively protesting at the capitol each day.

Saturday, during my hour lunch break, I decided to head to State Street to do some souvenir shopping for Thing 1 and Thing 2.  (I thought a set of foam cheese heads from the University of Wisconsin bookstore was in order.) But, while walking over, I got side tracked when I heard some live rock music playing, and I slowly went towards the source.  I found on the steps of the capitol building: The Gomers and a growing crowd of protestors with homemade signs.  A few minutes later, I heard some different music behind me.  A hodge podge marching band was making it's way directly up State Street and then circled the capitol, before heading up the steps.

I was officially in the middle of my first ever political protest.  I decided to skip my shopping trip (I did venture out later that evening to pick up the souvenirs for the boys) and skip my lunch, so that I could document and experience history in the making.  I talked with a lot of union workers, Democrats and Republicans, and heard their real voices, their real concerns...not just what the media decides to report on.  And I let them know that this educator, this parent, this citizen, was behind them.

I even got Superman a souvenir from a street vender:

Click here for more pictures of the protest.

Greetings from Madison, WI

Madison, WI.

What comes to mind when you think of Madison, WI?  For most people who've never been here, I'm sure it would be cheese curds, cheese heads, giant foam cheese hats, Green Bay Packers.  The college football nuts out there might think Badgers. Or most recently, probably protests and teachers unions.

I think State Street.  Ethnic restaurants for miles and miles (at least it seems like miles and miles).  Napalese.  Tibetan.  Ethiopian.  Turkish.  Afghani.  Indian.  Thai.  Yum.  Yum.  Yum.

My first trip to Madison WI was last April (2010), for a conference for work.  The conference itself was kind of a bust for me.  I seemed to regularly pick the most uninteresting and uninspiring sessions to attend.  But the food.  Oh man, the food!

This year, I've so far been a lot luckier in my session choices (knock on wood) and am overall feeling like I'm getting more out of the conference because of it.  But still, it's the food.  Oh man, the food!

The day we arrived, we went to a Tibetan restaurant and I had Gingered Yak Meatballs (yes, that is meatballs made out of yak meat) along with steamed bread.  Yesterday night we went to an Indian restaurant where we feasted on Murgh Saag, Fish Tikka Masala, Lamb Curry, and a Tandoori feast that included chicken, lamb, and shrimp.  Plus garlic naan, onion naan, and basmatti rice.  After dinner, we walked around campus, enjoying the views and sliding down a few banisters.  Then, found ourselves at the University of Wisconsin-Madison student union where we had some delicious Babcock Dairy ice cream.

Superman and I both love ethnic food.  And we used to love to go out to eat.  But since Thing 1 and Thing 2 came along, we don't go out to eat even a fraction of what we used to.  First and foremost because it is not financially prudent.  (We have to be all grown up with the way we spend money now that we are parents.)  Second, because it is harder to go out with the boys now more than ever.  They can't be confined to high chairs anymore, yet they don't really have the patience for staying seated for more than about 10 minutes either.  And finally, because we can just cook healthier at home.  Since we started cooking only Weight Watcher meals about 2.5 years ago, Superman has lost 30 lbs, runs half marathons, and is now a crazy health nut.  I, on the other hand, am yo-yo-ing the same 20 lbs and still can barely force myself to do my 30 min workout 3-5 times a week.  But right now I'm on a down swing, so I'm trying to keep the momentum going!  I really want to get back to my pre-pregnancy weight some day before I die.

Before my trip, I went to the grocery store and bought a bunch of fresh fruit and veggies to bring to the hotel, so that I'd have something to eat for breakfast and snack other than muffins and cookies.  And I packed my workout clothes and tennis shoes so that I could hit the workout center in the mornings before my conference sessions.  So far, I've eaten the fruit.  In addition to the baked goods (they just look and smell so good, and they are FREE!).  And I haven't gone to the workout center even once.  I don't even know what floor it is on.  But, I have strolled up and down State Street.  And thanks to the generosity of my paycheck place, I get to enjoy (read: over indulge in) the food.  Oh man, the food!

Update:  For lunch today, I had a gyro.  Then, for a late afternoon snack I enjoyed some more ice cream!  Shhh!  Don't tell Superman!


P.S. I loved the sign at the ice cream shop:

Bachelor weekend

I'm leaving for a conference tomorrow.  I'll be gone for four days.  And I have guilt.

No, I don't have guilt about leaving Thing 1 and Thing 2 for four days.  Between school and visiting grandma and grandpa, they probably won't even notice I'm gone.

I have guilt about leaving Superman to be a single parent for four days.

I don't know how actual single parents do it.  I really don't.  I've had to do the single parent thing for two days before and it was dreadful.  At first it seems fun.  I plan out activities that we wouldn't normally do when daddy is around, but you can only plan out so much of your life.  And god forbid you want a little time alone, to say go the bathroom!

Two of my best friends are Navy wives.  One just finished being a single mom to three kids (ages 10, 2, and >1) while her husband was gone for six months.  The other one's husband has been gone for a few weeks here, a few weeks there, for the last six months and is getting ready to leave for his six month deployment, leaving her a single, working mom of a 4 year old.  Unfortunately, I live far, far away from these ladies, so I can't offer them the occasional babysitting or help with their kids.  I can only offer them my ear when they need to complain and opportunities for adult conversation, even if it is over the phone or via facebook.

Even still, as rough as I know they have/will have it, then I think of those people who are single parents all of the time.  Through divorce, or death.  Especially through death.

An old friend of mine passed away unexpectedly last summer, and he left behind a widow and young daughter.  I often think how hard this year must have been for her.  Not only did she lose her spouse, her best friend, her companion, her lover, but also her partner in parenting.

I know sometimes I get so frustrated with Thing 1 and Thing 2 that I have to turn to Superman and say "you need to deal with them right now, or someone is going to get hurt."  And he takes them and deals with said situation while I go calm down in the other room.  I already deal with feelings of mommy inadequacies and I have him to turn to, what if I was truly all alone?

Sure, six month cruises seem to last forever. But, you still know that you can count on your partner eventually, even if it is very delayed.  I know being a Navy brat, I heard "wait until your father gets home" more times than I can count.  And today's military isn't like the military my mom's generation was married to.  Now servicemen can call more often, email, and even Skype with their spouses and families back home.  So, throughout the deployment they can still offer emotional support to their spouse.  But most importantly, these women (and men too) can hold on to the knowledge that their spouse will eventually come home to give them a break from the pressures of single parenting.

So Superman, I'm sorry to leave you for four days.  I hope the boys are angels for you and that you barely have a chance to miss me because you are having so much fun.  But, if they aren't, and you start cussing me under your breath, remember this:

1. I am going to Wisconsin (not Florida).  I guarantee you are having more fun than me.

2. Four days with two 3 1/5 year olds may seem like an eternity, but it's not.  Remember that it could be much, much worse.

FML!

So, this has been my morning so far...

1st Thing 2 did not want to wake up this morning, so I dressed him in his sleep (actually, this was probably the best/easiest part of my morning).

2nd I spent about 20 min trying to find the rotten milk smell in the house.  Didn't find it.  But I think I've narrowed it down to two rooms.  I know what I'm doing tonight.  Ugh!

3rd Got into a fight with Thing 1 because he asked for o.j. with his waffles, but while I was dressing Thing 2 he went in the fridge and got out the orange kool-aid.  But instead of letting him play with the two liquids (they like to pour them back and forth in cups, usually ending when something is spilled), I poured his glass of untouched o.j. back into the container (don't judge!) and poured him a cup of orange kool-aid instead.  At which point he started screaming, crying, throwing himself on the ground as if I'd beat him and screaming that he wanted orange juice.  I felt terrible and frustrated because I was just trying to give him what he wanted.  I hugged him, got him to calm down and explained that the only reason I took away his o.j. in the first place was because he said he wanted koolaid.  He was sniffling and mumbling "yea" with tear stained cheeks.  I put both in front of him and asked "which one do you want?"  "Orange-choose," pointing to the o.j.  UGH!!

4th Boys didn't want to put on coats (fast forward to when they were outside, complaining about how cold their ears and hands were).

5th At 8:15 am, I was at the door.  On time, unbelievably despite the morning, and had my hands full with a package to mail, my purse, my lunch box, two coats (see 4 above), and my Green Monster smoothie I have every morning (think bright green shake consistency drink).  And I spilled my smoothie!!  All over me!  (jacket! pants! shoes!) The living room floor!  The couch!  My purse!  My package!  My lunch box!  The only thing spared was the boys' coats.  I stood there yelling every cuss word I'd ever heard.  Then I calmly said "Boys, would you please get mommy a towel?"  They stood still watching me with wide eyes.  "Please, someone go get me a towel."  No movement.  "Thing 1.  Thing 2.  Go get mommy a towel, please."  Finally, Thing 1 went and got me a kitchen towel.  I spent the next 30 minutes cleaning up the shake.  The floor was still slightly sticky after two mops.  So much for being on time this morning.  UGH!!!

6th I get to work and get on the elevator crammed with people.  I say the customary "Hit 7 please".  I see the young college student in her pajamas holding her expensive coffee hit a button, so I assume she knows her numbers and stick my nose in the paper.  I look up when we stop on 6.  I tuck my newspaper underneath my arm, preparing for my floor next.  But wait, then we go all the way up to 10!  SHE DIDN'T PRESS MY BUTTON.  Ugh.  So I have to ride all the way up to 15.  Stopping I swear on every floor on the way up.  As the elevator clears, I make my way to the side with the panel.  I PRESS 7.  Re-open my newspaper and settle in for the ride up and back down.  When I feel we are starting to go down again, I close my newspaper and look up, just in time to see 8, 7, 6.  WTF????  Apparently if you hit 7 on the way up, it clears once you get to the top??!?!  So I had to ride it all the way down to the ground level.  Then all the way back up to the top.  At 9:15 am, height of use, which means it was stopping just about every other floor.

7th I check my email.  The public library sends me an email that I owe $24.99 for a DVD we rented 3 weeks ago.  For some reason it didn't recognize my renewal last week (though it did the other DVDs I renewed at the same time).  On top of that, it was due back on Saturday, and we returned the case...without the DVD inside.  $24.99 for a crappy movie about fish that they boys watched exactly one time.  I sent back an email saying I thought this was incorrect.  Then I forwarded it all to Superman and asked him to figure it out...I just can't deal with it this morning.

Yes, we have our health, a warm roof over our head, blah-blah-yada-yada-yada...but some mornings just make you wonder why the hell you got out of bed.

I just sent my boss an email that I will be taking Thursday off as a personal day.  I need some quiet time with a glass of no-no-juice and a hot bath.

Who am I kidding?  I'll spend the day searching for the freaking source of the rotten milk smell!