Friday, September 30, 2011

Just wasting time

I have a ton of actual work to do, so I am in the mood to waste time. And what better way than with this meme that’s going around? My other option was to do that Vlog, but sadly, Hub took our home computer with him today…AND anytime I hear my recorded voice I am left saying to myself “I don’t know HOW people listen to me yap all day long.” Seriously. Worst. Voice. Ever.
So anyway…

The ABCs of Me
Age: 32. For the next 2 weeks anyway. At which point, I will obviously turn 33. 33 seems old to me, but I think it is because when we were in our early 20’s, specifically when we got married, our friend B was 33. And he seemed SO OLD. And such, 33 is old. We don’t talk to B anymore, but it occurred to me just now that if he was 33 when we got married, he is now 42. And if we were still friends, that my skew my perception of my age. Anyway, I don’t feel that old.
Bed size: Queen. In a perfect world, Hub and I would have separate beds. Seriously. When we went on vacation this past summer, our room had 4 double beds. Lu and Liv shared a bed and Bud, Hub and I each got our own. Best vacation sleep ever.
Chore that you hate: Laundry. Every flipping aspect of laundry, but most of all, putting it away.
Dogs: One. The biggest pain in the ass you have ever met, Haley. She is an Australian Shepherd/Border Collie mix and good lord is she obnoxious and needy. But we love her and she loves us and she is sweet with the kids. So long as she is not feeling ignored..then she will chew up our prized possessions.
Essential start to your day: Coffee. I have a Keurig, but since I am home, it makes more sense for me to make it in the coffee maker. Hub drinks a cup or 2 and I finish the pot. My mother’s Day gift was a coffee grinder, and it is awesome. I love having fresh ground coffee every day.
Favorite color: Pink. I have a ton of pink. Love it.
Gold or Silver: I don’t really prefer one over the other. My wedding ring is gold…I would have preferred white gold though.
Height: 5’4
Instruments you play: I can read music and pick a little bit at the piano. I was a music/voice major in high school and early college and I always told people that I am my own instrument. Obnoxious much?
Job title: My first title is Assistant Vice President. My official job title is Operations Project Consultant. My temporary title, while I am on special assignment through mid-2012 is Process Design Consultant. Seriously.
Kids: 3. Bud; 7, Lucy; 6 and Olivia; 3.
Live: Near Buffalo, NY
Mother’s name: M@rilyn
Nicknames: Work people call me SB. Hub sometimes calls me S. I’ve always wanted a nickname, and have never had a real one. I’d like to think that if we met in person, you all would continue to call me Saly. Or just Sal.
Overnight hospital stays: 3 births, one kidney stone and one with Lu at the children’s hospital when she was 2 months old for a meningitis scare.
Pet peeves: People walking without a sense of purpose…I am anti-meandering. The use of the word everyday to mean every day. 2 different, ideas, people. Lack of respect for my time. I could likely go on and on.
Quote from a movie: Hub and I routinely shout out “Johnny has his hand! Johnny has his pride!” (from Moonstruck) for no actual reason.
Right or left handed: Right.
Siblings: 2 brothers, one who is almost 3 years younger than me, and one who is 11 years younger than me.
Time you wake up: the plan is to wake up around 5 to go and work out, but that doesn’t always happen. On non-workout days, I set the alarm for 6:15 so I have time to pack lunches and be alone for a few minutes to wake up before the kids are up and demanding things from me. We’re up early on Saturdays for gymnastics and such. I like to sleep in until 9 or so on Sundays.
Underwear: Whatever fits well.
Vegetable you hate: Cauliflower—hork. Peas—BLECH.
What makes you run late: Getting caught up in Twitter or Facebook when I should be getting the kids out of bed. There is beauty in working from home though. At least I don’t have to get myself ready.
X-Rays you’ve had: Teeth. Neck and back after a car accident.
Yummy food that you make: If Hub listed his favorites I make they would be: sweet and sour chicken, beef tips and gravy and oven fried chicken. I am partial to my lazy perogie and chili.
Zoo animal: Giraffes!!

Monday, September 26, 2011

Lose, Win, Draw

I saw Swistle’s post yesterday evening about the owl bedding at Target and was thrilled! Liv has wanted it and we held off on getting it because we did not know if we were going to end up getting the girls twin or full sized bunk beds. We got full, but haven’t put them up yet (nor have we even bought the mattresses), so I’ve been sort of laid back about looking for the bedding.

But then Swistle alerted me, and there was a chorus of angels from above, and I knew that I must get myself to Target immediately! Actually first I called, and spoke to a very nice but dim girl on the phone who told me that both in the computer and out on the shelf where she walked herself and looked, there was no such thing as a “Love and Nature” line. Of course, I wasn’t taking her word for it, so I threw Liv in the car and we went for a ride. (Bonus—Hub got the big kids showered while I was gone..although now that I think about it getting them showered involves only adjusting the water temperature at this point, as they do everything else themselves, so I guess he really doesn’t deserve a prize…ANYWAY) So in to Target we went and headed straight for the bedding. There was one lonely owl pillow left on the shelf. In fact, there was absolutely NO children’s bedding anywhere to be found. It must have all gone on deep discount.

I stood for a moment to weigh my options. I could drive to several different stores in the area. I could go up front to see if someone else might have some ideas. I could give up. Instead, I started looking at the tags on the shelves. If nothing else, I was going to prove to Dim Bulb that there was such a thing as the Love and Nature line. And of course, I found the tag on the shelf, and promptly took a photo of it with my phone, because I am a genius. Then I went to the service desk, and spoke to Dim Bulb in person. I showed her the photo of the tag, and she looked the numbers up in the computer to see what she could find. There were no full sized sets of the bedding within a 100 mile radius. Bummer. Fail. LOSE.

She did tell me that I was the smartest person who ever came through her line, on account of my photo prowess. I consider this a minor win.

So I left, defeated but with a new record for the least amount of money I’ve ever spent at Target: $0.00. Some might call this a win. I call it a draw.

Friday, September 16, 2011

Our Summer Recap

Shutterfly always gets me this time of year with free stuff. I think maybe it's because they want to remind me of what they can do before the holidays. Trust me, Shutterfly, I know.

Here is the book I made today, that cost me 3 whole dollars. I love free stuff.

Click here to view this photo book larger

Monday, September 12, 2011

Bullets for Monday

• Liv is in this phase of saying and doing completely hysterical things. For example, when I got up on Saturday morning, and my hair was a mess she asked me if I was doing crazy things in bed. I told her I wasn’t and then she thought for a second and said “Well, was daddy doing crazy things to you in there?” (he wasn’t). I could not contain my laughter. She also has an imaginary friend named Riley. Riley comes everywhere with us. When we were on vacation, she was not allowed to ride any rides because she was being bad. She’s been to the playground with grandma and papa and I’ve crushed her more times than I can count. She kept me company when Liv did gymnastics by herself for the first time on Saturday (she was in mommy & me last year), and went shopping with us Saturday night. Riley has yellow hair and she is tall. She is 29 years old.
• Our dog has a major chewing problem. Maybe major isn’t the word, because she only does it when she is bored or feels like we’re not paying enough attention to her. We had a pretty busy weekend and yesterday morning we sent her and the kids outside in the yard to burn off some steam and so we could finish reading the paper in peace. At one point I noticed that it was very very quiet and I got up to see what the kids were doing. They had been in the playhouse and the dog chewed a hole in the inflatable ring of our pool (Hub had drained it and was letting it dry out in the yard). It is unrepairable; there is a dinner plate sized hole. I mean, I know it’s only an $80 inflatable pool, but damn it! That was supposed to last at least through next summer. She’s better today, with a whole slew of new toys to occupy her, plus Hub and I took her for a good long walk at lunch time. Having a dog is worse than having a kid, I tell you.
• I cannot get over how quiet the house has been with the kids off at school. I am really enjoying being back in the routine though. We fell off the wagon hard core when FIL died, and that led right in to summer which was just crazy. The house was in shambles, I couldn’t get any work done, seriously, nothing worked right. So we’ve revamped our chore charts and it took the few days last week to get back in the swing, but now things are moving well and have fallen in to place nicely. It would be nice to still have that extra pair of hands around, but what can you do.
• We ordered the girls bunk beds from Amazon. They came on Friday. I can’t wait until Hub puts them together. Of course we have to buy mattresses and bedding now, which excites me, but will cost money so it does not excite Hub. But these beautiful full sized bunks…I think the girls will be very pleased with them.
• Putting up the bunk beds means taking down the crib, currently in use as a daybed for Liv, for the first time in 8 years. This gives me a sad feeling in my gut. Sad indeed. And for as much baby stuff as we have sold (all of it), this is one of two things that Hub insists we keep for “just in case”. The other is my breast pump, FYI.
• I did well at the Fall consignment sale…not as well as I wanted to, but I made $400 which isn’t too shabby. I accidentally marked all of my leftover items for donate though, and had to scramble like a mad woman to pull them from the racks and get them out of there at the end of the sale. Now I’m at the point of deciding if I want to put them up at another sale, or ebay them. I do know that outfitting a very picky 6-year-old for the fall has been expensive, even with the used things I’ve bought. I have a sickness when it comes to ebay though. It will consume me. I have done well there in the past. And many online stores take paypal now too, so that is probably the way I’m going to go.
• Finally, and speaking of clothes, a friend gave me some really good Gymboree coupons and I used them to make my first ever Gymboree purchase, in nearly 8 years of motherhood. I don’t like most of their stuff, if I’m being honest. But that whole line of owl stuff got me. When you see a couple of girls dressed from head to toe in owl garb, you’ll know who they belong to,

Friday, September 9, 2011


I’ve been anxious around bedtime lately. I think my thyroid med dose is too high. Either that or I’ve been drinking too much coffee, which is also entirely possible. In any case, I’ve had a really hard time falling asleep which has caused me to lay awake rehashing old squabbles just getting myself further riled.

The other night, my mind wandered to late middle school. If I had to guess, I would say that it was 7th grade. My family had moved to town the year before, and I’d previously made several friends in our development. Kids are kids though, and ESPECIALLY, girls are girls so 3 of us had decided to turn on one of our friends over the summer. She was out. One of the other girls decided to “beat her up” and all of us got in to a lot of trouble—specifically because her mother called a meeting with all of our parents to call us out on our bad behavior. I should have seen it coming, but I was blind. I was next. There was no “event” or anything out of the ordinary to cause it, but the girls decided that they were done with me. So done in fact that they decided they were going to beat me up, much like they had done to the other girl. I was panicked. I was a scrawny little runt of a thing, and there was no way I was going to be able to defend myself. I’d never thrown a punch in my life. Luckily, one of the older girls on the bus overheard all of this and escorted me to her house from the bus stop, and her dad drove me home.

I replayed this situation in my mind over and over again. I remember this happening. I remember talking to my friend M on the phone and having her and her mother demand that I come to their house (on the other side of the development) and ride her bus instead. I remember riding my bike to her house when it was warm, and cutting through numerous yards to make my walks shorter when it was cold. I remember being welcomed in to her house by her parents and being taken care of; being driven to school in bad weather. I remember how grateful I was for all of that. I started to focus on all of the good things that actually came out of the situation, and that’s when it dawned on me—the mother of all questions and the reason that I ended up being awake almost all night: Where the fuck were my parents?

I was bullied and threatened. I was afraid to get back on the bus. I was afraid of being beaten up and picked on. And because of it, I made my own arrangements. My friend and my friend’s mother helped me through an awful situation. With them, I figured out how to deal with it all and I did. A 12-year old. And my parents, sat idly by and let me just deal with it. Why? Why didn’t they help me? Why did I have to learn how to get through it myself? Why didn’t they call a meeting with the parents of these girls much like the one that was called when I was the one who was being mean? Is it possible that they didn’t know? That I didn’t tell them? I have no recollection, but honestly, could that be possible?

Maybe it’s shit like this that forced me to be independent. Maybe this is why I moved out of my parents house when I was 19 to live my own life and never looked back. Maybe this is why it seems like I have been an adult for much longer than most of my same aged friends.

This is something that is over 20 years in the past and yet I cannot get it out of my head. Those girls and I made up at some point in high school. I totally forgive their 12-year-old selves. But here we are 20+ years later, and I am newly pissed at my parents.

Friday, September 2, 2011

The Blame Game

Don’t read this if you are at all squeamish about the word ooze, ok?

For years—like since I have known him, Hub had a small bump on his back. It was soft, barely noticeable, and his doctor assured him that it was just an oily cyst. I’m familiar with such things because I have very oily hair and routinely have these kinds of bumps removed from my scalp. Maybe 5 or so years ago though, Hub’s bump began to grow and as it did, I would point this out. My reasoning was that he couldn’t see of feel his own back, and also—if it’s growing, maybe he should have it checked out.

He declined though. It didn’t bother him and why should he. I told him that I was worried about him getting an infection under there, if the gland was so active and there was no place for it to go. He rolled his eyes and ignored me. Around the time this bad boy had swelled to be the size of a golf ball, as in, you could see it protruding from underneath his shirts, Hub came down with a bad case of eczema. He was going to see my dermatologist so I asked him to please have her look at this cyst.

She did, and advised that because of the size and the activity, he should definitely have it removed. He came home with the news and I was pleased. It had worried me for so long, and if I was being honest, it was starting to gross me out. He scheduled the surgery and had it removed with little complications, but after the fact it began draining, and draining and draining. It was horrible. At one point there was a hole the size of a pencil eraser in his back and I could see in to the cavity. He had the dermatologist look at it a few times and was assured it was all completely normal. Finally it closed up and healed, leaving in its wake a purple scar that was somewhat indented on his back.

So things were good, up until a few weeks ago when the scar started to swell. And then it swelled some more. And then it started to get hot, and then we made an emergency dermatologist appointment. Somehow the cavity had become infected and it wasn’t pretty. Hub had to have the thing lanced and they drained it out. He left there having had a sample of the ooze sent off to be tested for MRSA (negative, fyi), a strong antibiotic to take 4 times a day and a referral to a plastic surgeon to have this cavity cleaned out and closed up from the inside.

Hub came home, and he was beyond pissed. This was all my fault, he accused. If I wouldn’t have harped and harped on him about getting the bump removed, and if I wouldn’t have been so grossed out by him and if I wouldn’t have sent him off to some pimple popper this never would have happened. We’ve had this argument something like 85 times now where he makes these accusations and where I maintain that I am not a medical professional and only asked for him to have it looked at because the growth was concerning me. Yes, I may have said it was kind of gross near the end, but I never harped or nagged. At least not to the degree he claims. Maybe I nudged. But that is all I will admit to.

And now, the surgery appointment is in a few weeks. Honestly you guys, I don’t want to be around after the fact. The surgeon has already said it’s going to be a painful recovery and has provided some good drugs. The surgeon also completely called out the dermatologist to say she never should have taken on something like this in her office. He is totally on Hub’s side and fueling his fire.

So what do I do? I’m pretty sure that no matter what I say, he’s always going to blame me. And until this thing heals for good, he is going to be on pissy guy. I’m taking the stance that I am not going to argue about it anymore, but I don’t know if that’s going to work. So tell me oh wise internets, what the heck do I do here?