1 - 2 - 3...

This is a day that the Lord has made. Today I'm just rejoicing because I'm glad of it. That's all really. Nothing too special to post at the moment. Just counting my blessings I suppose.

I sit at my desk and look at my kids beaming at me from their most recent photo and I think of a close friend who had to undergo a hysterectomy this week because she was plagued by fibroids. Her husband has a child from a previous marriage but they have none together and he is still wrapping his mind around the fact that now they never will. She's OK with it really but what a way to have your hand forced. Like the choice was taken away. I am blessed indeed.

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Later I was in my car on my way back to work after a lunch break, munching on Twizzlers - I LOVE Twizzlers - and thinking about Mr. T's frequent calls while he was in the midst of booking the annual take-the-kids-to-the-grandparents'-house-and-give-mommy-and-daddy-a-break
-for-a-month summer vacation. Usually my retired father pays for the trip but it's a year into our no-longer-new house and the money is finally settling down, so I'm just glad that when my father told me this year it would be too tight to pay for airplane tickets, I was pretty confident we'd be able to swing it all ourselves this time so no one loses momentum. Now I'll just be glad when I can give them back even a fraction of the money they've given me over the years since I moved out and became "independent." Family who give and expect nothing back - traits instilled in every generation of us (if not necessarily every one of us)? I am grateful to be part of it.

****************

So as I drove on my lunch break - to the stores, back to work - my mind was fluttering between thoughts of a possible job for Village Works along with all our marketing plans, and thoughts about how much I want to re-do our closets next year. If I can handle it, maybe I'll have them throw up something in the garage too. And you know, since we aren't using it for the cars anyway (someone would always be blocked and inconvenienced), maybe we can paint it, put down flooring and put my treadmill out there (and some portable heaters while I'm at it) and that way I can have my workout and treadmill-free family room too without turning the garage into something that a future buyer couldn't envision as a garage. (ABTPV - Always Be Thinking Property Values!) A space to call, and decorate as, my own? Still thanking God for it.

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Last night I sat talking with a couple of mothers as our sons did their cub scout thing. One of the moms takes our sons to the meeting and I take them home but last night was the pack meeting so we were both there. The other mom is someone Mr. T knows from his church and though her personality isn't one that normally draws me, it's still good to have another community connection like her. The den leader is a ham. A good woman though who the kids enjoy and as tired as it makes me week after week, I'm glad Son has another outlet other than school and church; one more place to meet different people and round himself out as a person. I don't know where he'll end up but I do enjoy the journey with him to get there.

****************

I was sitting at work (A lot of this is work related today, I see.), minding my own business, when someone yells out the question about whether or not it was safe to eat lunchmeat she had accidentally left on her kitchen counter earlier that morning. Another co-worker tells her no then asks if I concur. I'm not 100% certain it's not OK so I ponder out loud about the circumstances surrounding the forgotten food. That prompts a web search for proof of the first person's point. Then another chimes in that she absolutely shouldn't eat it. Talk of tainted turkey and the feeding of crazy roomates and wild animals ensues as we volley the pros and cons of consuming questionable meat. This runaway train of thought lands me at the memory of a sandwich that went missing in my own home one day - to be found on top of the fridge over a week later in Mr. T's basket - and I add this to the growing list of examples. Before long, no one is quite breathing. Clearly it's after 3 p.m. and we're all a little giddy. Having a job where spontaneous silliness is the norm, sometimes met by a boss with his or her own version of the story du'jour? Yeah, that's a blessing too.

Peep This

One of the best things about Easter - setting the spiritual component aside a sec - is the day after Easter which is when I can pick up some cheap chicks and reduced bunnies and savor the flavor.

Yum!

March Madness

No, not the basketball. I hate to watch that stuff on TV. In person is better but overall, I'm no sports fan.

Instead, here I am playing catch up again. I thought about you all while I was in church yesterday - Happy Belated Easter! - and at that moment I just knew I'd have the energy later to go home and blog. I don't know why I thought that. I had already gone through piles of wash the previous two days but still had a few to go. We had to go see my MIL because she cooked and had Easter baskets for the kids and who wants to turn down a wonderful meal or baskets you didn't have to buy? (We, at my church, literally don't buy into the commercialism of Easter but that doesn't stop the kids from wanting the candy and who can blame them? They get what they want and I get to stick to my principles.) Daughter's hair needed to be done but she refused and after awhile I wasn't up for the fight.

March has been truly hectic and all the bloggable moments have been missed because I was too busy living it to write about it. I did manage to get Son's birthday in here, so that's cool. But I didn't tell you about my little plastic surgery visit. Mr. T took before and after pictures because I guess he thought I'd want it preserved for posterity. I believe that is the opposite of what you have the surgery for in the first place, silly man. I may have more thoughts about that one later but for now, let's say the worst part of it was getting the local and having my kids stalking me until I went to sleep because they wanted to poke at my bandage. Otherwise, it was cool. The last time I got stitches I was about 7 or 8 and I don't recall that being particularly pleasant but I may be mixing it up with my mother's reaction because I do recall them asking her to wait in the waiting area because she was a little too stressed for them. Hopefully taking these babies out won't be a big deal. I hate pain. I'm a wuss.

The there was our visit to the accountant who told us wonderful things about getting back money and I told Mr. T wonderful things about the furniture we were going to be buying for the living room. I am so in my glory right about now. I even got inspired enough to finally figure out how to lay out my family room and that took a whole year to mull over. No small feat, let me tell you. It still may not be perfect because of the bowling alley shape of the room but it's a plan and with that, I have finally figured out every room in the house and that makes me happy. We'll also be adding another piece or two to each of the kids' rooms (aside from the dresser I just bought Son) so they too are thrilled and eventually we'll add another zone for better heating downstairs. I can hear the property value hitching itself up now!

This past weekend was the visit to the marketing guy for my business. This guy has tons of experience, lots of locally known customers and he says we've got a good, unique product that simply hasn't had a fair shake yet. It's all a matter of just getting it out there. Gee, is that all? But he didn't say anything we didn't know when it came to the viability of what we have. He had lots of great ideas for how to get it out there but in the end, "Just do it" was the key to it all. "Don't plan anything. Get the new marketing photo taken and start writing letters." It all comes back to time. But he'll be hounding us in May and Bizzy Girl and I both seem to need that. April will be crazy.

Oh, and there was also all the wonderful life events. I know 3 people getting married in May, within days of each other. The invite from one in NY just showed up and she is getting married on a late Friday afternoon. I can't wait. She and I struggled together about 3 years ago now in our quest for release from a job we both shared and both hated with the same intensity. She is one of the most patient, determined, smart young women I know and watching her walk away from some things that I know would makes others cringe was simply inspiring. As a result, she got even better than what she had - including the man she is now engaged to. I'm proud of her. Her wedding will be a treat to attend.

And my sister-in-law's same-named stepdaughter came up from NC for a visit with her young family in tow, which includes her beautiful new 4-month-old son. So we had to go see them and hug on that baby, especially Daughter who persists in her quest to get a new little sibling of her own. The baby was a little tired at the time but agreeable enough to let her hold him - while I helped - for a split second. I had hoped that would quiet her but I think it made it worse. Daughter ran between helping with the baby and helping with the 2-year-old who was sick at the time. Keeping her from being underfoot was difficult but she just wanted to help and be a big sister. It's cute but little does she realize that one of the reasons NOT to have a baby right now is because she requires all of our eyes to be on her lest she disappear in a crowd or get hit by a car (she drawn to streets like a magnet to true north). And holding that baby didn't get my mommy senses tingling so it's clearly not yet time.

There were also the not-so-good things like finding out Mr. T's nephew was hit in the head with either a wrench or a crowbar while manning the door at his wife's teen sister's birthday party in LA. His jaw is wired and NO ONE is happy because his wife didn't call anyone here until days later. She said he said not to call but that is no excuse. He said not to call his mother or grandmother? Well, there are tons of others she could have reached out to like my husband, for instance. He has no family but her out there. This could have been fatal. That boy is about my brother's age and he's been like another little brother to me and I wish I could go there myself and shake some sense in that wife of his. I swear I don't think she really knows what she has in him. There's too much to his ongoing story to go into here but it makes me sad for him and as an in-law myself, I keep trying not to hold anything against her as reasons to do so stack up against her. It's their marriage and all we can do is pray he will ultimately get the good things he wants and deserves.

So March isn't over. I don't know what the rest of the month will bring but those new beginnings that 2008 promised keep popping up all over like roses to tint my winterized glasses. I can't wait to see what happens next.

Obama Speaks

Balancing is a tough thing to do, especially faith and politics. God seems to have given this man a gift to do just that. Does Barack Obama deserve the chance to set this country back on a path of overall prosperity? Increasingly I say yes, he does. It would still be an accomplishment to vote Hillary in but more and more I think the time for Obama is now.

Birthday Buddies

I should have taken more pictures. I should have blogged on the actual day but I was so busy on Friday buying my son a much needed dresser and getting food and such for his slumber party that I didn't even think of a picture - besides the official blowing out of the cake (trick candles and all) - until the next day.

Son turned 8 - my favorite number - and 3 of his friends came over to wish him a happy one, but only 2 stayed the night - and stayed up ALL night, at that.

Daughter, so cute she is, played the hostess, helping me get things together, taking the presents the boys brought over, arranging their things in Son's room. She knew it was his special time and I had already told her to let him have his space but she must be a part of things because he is her brother and her best friend and sometimes she acts like she's the big sister and....darn it! My kids are truly adorable sometimes! My girlfriend brought her 8-year-old daughter (one of the remaining members of the trio since the other one moved South) and her daughter's 10-year-old sister. So my Daughter claimed them as HER guests and had her own fun for awhile. When it comes to playmates, age is nothing but a number for dear Daughter.

Son was in his glory because it all somehow turned into a DS party. His friends brought their Nintendo DS and favorite games and they swapped, chatted by WiFi (yes, they were sitting next to each other as they chatted via DS) and generally kept their eyes on the game but barely on each other. Nevertheless they were all happy campers and I survived my first child's first sleepover.

My Son -

You have made it eight years and yet you are still as dramatic as ever, silly as ever, sensitive as ever. I remember being your age and so I am realizing just how grown up you probably THINK you are right about now. But you should see you from my perspective. You are still so small to me and the depth of your innocence is astounding. I fight to protect that every single day as I ask you about your day and what you learned and who did what or said what to you. You are my biggest test of patience that I fail pretty much every day and I thank God for that test pretty much every day. I was happy before you but until you, I had no idea what real fulfillment felt like. You will probably never understand real pride until you have your own mini you. All the achievements in the world are simply pointless unless I am doing it for you. And fight? Oh, the fight I have in me when you tell me some other silly child had the audacity to even look at you the wrong way or some adult overstepped their authority.

It sounds so corny. It IS so corny but it is so very true,
my world was merely black and white until God gave me you.

I love you. Happy birthday. - Mommy

Do A Little Dance, Ditch A Little Book

Ever have one of those days where you just want to dance? Just because? For the past 2 weeks as I've been embroiled in projects at work, taxes, and small business development, I've had Kool Moe Dee running around in my head rapping "I Go To Work!" He came out with that one while I was in college and in college I kept up with music religiously. One of my girlfriends still swears if you wanted the latest of anything (in the genres I listen to, that is), go see Monica!

Every now and again I remember the songs that moved me way back when and I download the good ones in iTunes. People from this generation are free to disagree with me, but the music from the 70s, 80s and even the early 90s are leaps and bounds above the mess going on the airwaves today. Every now and again someone breaks out from the pack and originality (with a dose of old school) prevails. (NeYo, for instance, or Alicia Keys. Love them.) But iTunes didn't have "I Go To Work!" Imagine my dismay! YouTube, however, did and along with my love of KMD returned my respect for the truly great rap artists who could shake and bake those words with nary a profanity in sight. It's an art, I tell ya. They are artists.



This includes Will Smith who - gasp! - some people didn't even know was a rapper before he was an actor. Honestly. Am I REALLY that far along in life now? For those who are too young for my train of thought, KMD did Wild Wild West which Will re-did for the movie. (Great example of dancers in rhythm too.) So here's that one because I was feeling them both all day yesterday, as my co-workers will attest to as well as my son who laughed while I put these on one screen of my computer and danced my heart out while he played his Disney game and jumped up and down with me.



I did and still do adore good music and a really good music video where the beat is contagious and the dancers are in step and in rhythm. I just love watching it. Makes me feel good.

You know what doesn't make me feel good? Bad writing! (See that seague? See it? Good huh?)

This book had me SO annoyed when I read it to Daughter recently that I was forced to go on Amazon and blast it because it was just plain stupid. As a writer, I wait in line with many others who are hoping to get traditionally published someday. Granted, I've been too busy to really make an all-out effort but there's stuff I could show an agent if they really wanted to see if I was worth the time. Now how this book was deemed publishable, I'll never know. But instead of restating what I wrote on Amazon, let me just show you what I wrote there word for word. I am on a crusade to stop people from at least buying this book. OK, you probably have to read it to understand the sheer horror I felt after reading it, but please DO NOT BUY IT! You'll encourage this poor soul to do it again and that I do not want.

Read on:

I don't know how the previous reviewers used this book, but this was a book my 4-year-old chose to check out of the library to read before going to bed. We go every week. She picks books that look good to her and pile them on a chair to take out. I am certain she was drawn to the color of this book as anyone would be. But boy did this book strike a wrong chord with me, corny pun intended.

I started reading it to her and by the end I had to apologize to her for wasting our time when we could have read something that made sense. I understand the INTENT was to have a book about a jazz virtuoso that followed color value and musical notes, etc. But this does not succeed. The result is a book with words broken down in syllables seemingly scattered all over the page which would be fine if:
1 - the words WEREN'T in hard-to-read cursive
2 - the words were in some sort of easy-to-follow order
3 - the writer/publisher didn't assume that everyone could read musically

I showed this to 4 co-workers to make sure it wasn't just me. They were a mix of parents and single, writers and nonwriters and every one of them stepped back upon looking at the first page. "They aren't ALL going to look like this are they?" Oh yes, my friend. They do.

I have never been so annoyed by a book before! Did the author and publisher think about the kids who were learning to read? The parents who would be reading to them? I must have sounded like I just started hooked on phonics myself!

The mystery here is figuring out how to overcome the instinct to read left to right in order to read the blasted thing and I could MAYBE forgive that. But you don't even walk away with a real lesson about Thelonious Monk to make it all worth while.

I didn't even want to give it the one star I gave it but that star would be for visual interest. We love color and THAT it has in spades. Nothing else.

Signs of Success

My favorite life coach, Valerie Burton, had an interesting thought in her newsletter today as she spoke about the signs of Spring:

It's encouraging to notice the little signs that what you want is on the way - it reminds you that you are moving forward even when it sometimes feels as though the season you are in will last forever. It is very easy to ignore the little signs, but when you do you miss the beauty of transformation as it occurs. My guess is that your life is in a process of change right now - whether in a relationship, your finances or health, your work or spiritual life. There are changes you are making, and sometimes it feels as though the change isn't coming fast enough!

This week, I challenge you not only to notice the ways in which you need to practice patience, but also the ways in which you need to embrace the process. In our world of quick-fix makeovers and instant gratification, we have lost our appreciation for the journey. There is something to appreciate at every stage of your journey.

So I took a moment to consider this in terms of my business. My partner and I were talking on Saturday as Mr. T and I headed to our accountant to drop off some needed info. (I don't think I've named my partner in any way yet, huh? How about Bizzy Girl? Works for me on two levels!) So Bizzy Girl and I were just so enthused by the accountant. He came to one of my business meetings. I liked the way he spoke. I told Bizzy Girl and we set up a meeting with him. Bizzy Girl loved him too. Now Village Works has an accountant and we give him our personal taxes too since they go hand in hand. Mr. T. likes him as well so the accountant is a hit on all fronts.

Bizzy Girl does our finances - and very well, I might add, though she's always thinking she's lacking - so she took him the info she had compiled. Accountant was pleased with her work, as I knew he would be.

"I feel so legit now," Bizzy Girl gushed.

"I know," I gushed back. "Even with the LLC, it's only now that things feel on the up and up."

This is one of those signs Valerie spoke of. When I stop to think of our signs of progress, I think not only of our wonderful accountant but also:

1 - our lawyer
2 - becoming an LLC 2 1/2 years ago
3 - our 7 artists - 4 of whom are people NOT related to us in some way
4 - being able to pinpoint the ACTUAL cost to produce our greeting card puzzles
5 - being able to tell a quick story of how we got started the same way every time (not as easy as you'd think and it's a long story too)
6 - turning our logo into something that says puzzles
7 - finding a real talent to handle our website (though we can't pay the price too often right now so the site isn't as updated as I'd like it to be)
8 - getting into the right kind of store, even if we are paying to be there
9 - having set up a fundraiser program
10 - having finally organized my office so I can think straight and I know what I really do and don't have (now to get the computer files re-sorted)
11 - Mr. T. not putting up a fight when I tell him that whatever money we get back from taxes that is due to my having a business, is money that gets invested back into the business. And for his never complaining about my time away from home, either.

When we started, we both liked puzzles (OK, I loved them) but we had never thought about what it took to make them. Now we understand what it takes, though is always something to learn, and we are able to realistically focus on the marketing of the puzzles and the growth of business and not get tripped up by those pesky production issues that need to be ironed out before you can even give someone a quote.

So far we can honestly guarantee that the recipients of our puzzles will be happy because so far we haven't had a complaint. People tend to come back with the biggest smiles on their faces, especially the custom clients. It's just better than they anticipated, they say. And that gives us the incentive to keep pushing until we find out niche. We know it's out there. For now, we'll take the little signs of progress and wait until it's our turn to blossom.

Scene with Daughter

"Mommy, can I talk to you privately?"



(Raised eyebrows and hands on hip.) Talk to me privately about what?



"Come in your room."



(Smirking now.) Your daddy is in there. That's not privately.



"Come in my room then." (Leads me by the hand.) "Sit down." (Turns on her light and closes her door with a huge grin on her face.) "Umm, when I was in the car, I was talking to daddy and I asked him if we can have a baby brother or sister."



I see. And what did he say?



"He said yes." (Stands up to bounce on her bed.) "I can be the big sister and Son can be the big brother! I'll take care of them. Change their diaper."



I see. And, uh, where is this baby going to come from?



"You and daddy can get married all over again!"



Of course.



"We'll have a carriage and he can ride on my bike."



I see.



"Ok, that's why I wanted to talk privately."



OK then. Thanks for the talk.



(Feeling slightly child pressured now.)

Lead, Follow Or....What?

How do you teach leadership?

This has been something I've been struggling with since I was pregnant with Son. I knew there would be a ton of things I'd want to tell him over the years so I started writing him letters as things came to me when I first found out he was on the way. I'm not sure right now if leadership was one of those topics at that time but it sure is one now.

If you aren't a parent yet but will be one day or if you are brand new at it or shoot - if you're as clueless about some of this as the rest of us, one important thing to remember is people are pretty much born with a certain personality. Life and circumstances affect it, for sure, but a lot of things are innate. The child who succeeds in everything they do. The one who tries. The one who has to be pushed. The one who is friendly and outgoing. The one who is shy. That's built-in stuff, my friends, so don't beat yourself up about it and don't let a therapist blame for you for it later. I believe God wants us to watch these babies, pray over them, try to discover their gifts, talents and natural inclinations, and then take all that to figure out how to guide them in the path they should go according to how God made them - not according to how God made you.

It's not easy. Sometimes our own dreams and ambitions and tendencies get in the way. I know they do for me. But I try to force myself to remember these babies of mine are who they are and they must live their own lives one day. So I want to try to teach them how to be who they are and do what they enjoy and yet how to wrangle their shortcomings so they don't get unnecessarily hurt because of them. I want to encourage the stuff I know will make them strong and happy in the long run. But sometimes what's a "good" trait and what's problematic is all mixed up and I'm not sure what to say about it.

Son. You knew this would be about him, didn't you? He's my challenge since he's my oldest. Early on we could tell Son might be a follower. I can't explain it. It was just what we thought, much like we can clearly see Daughter is a leader, and not always in a good way. When they're together, Son comes down to Daughter's age level. But that's OK. She's a smart cookie so he's not stooping that far. They basically get along and play together and what more can you ask of a brother and sister with 3 1/2 years between them?

Son has Pokemon trading cards. I bought them for him for Christmas and he was truly elated when he unwrapped them. I still don't know if this is HIS thing or just another must-have picked up from the group he hangs with at school. At the ages of 7 and 8, a lot of things are going to arise from that collective mentality, I know.

Last night I picked up Son and one of his friends from their cub scout meeting.

"Mommy, Z won't give me back my Pokemon cards."

"What? You brought cards with you?"

"No."

"He has your cards from some other time?"

Son then spoke in tongues as he explained how last Thursday, Z wanted some weird-named card and Son traded him two other strangely named cards for two equally tongue-twisting cards. At some point, Son decided it wasn't a good trade and wanted them back but Z wasn't giving them up. Great. A debate. Just what I was looking for during the ride home. On top of that, I could see Son was going to get upset.

So what do you say? They are trading cards, after all. That's what he did. You can't get trader's remorse afterward. You suck it up because you should have thought of the importance of them before you let them go. But on the other hand, you say you are friends. If one friend is going to get upset, are you really going to let trading cards be the reason for it?

"Son, these are trading cards. That's what they are for. You wanted what you traded for at the time so you should live with your decision. Z has a right to keep them. It's the code. And Z, you see Son is upset. This is your chance to be a friend and swap back. Friendship isn't easy but it's more important than cards. It's your decision. You two work it out."

I wanted that to be the end of it. I didn't want to be in this. But Son wasn't letting go. Z was unusually quiet as Son nagged him to trade back. "Please, Z?" Eventually Z blurted out, "Ohhhh, stop it! Give me time to make up my mind!"

We got to the parking lot where I hand Z over to one of his parents but we had to wait a bit for his father to arrive.

"Please," Son continued begging. "Please! Please!"

If you had been there you would have seen my skin crawl and watched it turn red as my blood boiled. It was all I could do to stay out of it. Son appealed to me again.

"What do you want me to do, Son?"

"Call his mother."

"To complain about trading cards? I don't think so, baby."

Z's father showed and out he went to get into his own car. Son's crying got louder but I didn't realize it until I got back into my car and closed the door. I waited until we were driving once again. I could only imagine what Z was saying to his own father.

"Let me tell you something, Son. Don't you ever, EVER beg that boy or ANYONE for anything every again! Got it? They're cards, for crying out loud. You're upset? Fine. Cry at home! But don't you allow yourself to break down in front of these kids."

Extreme talk, I know. And I knew I had to explain this but first I had to get that off my chest. Z is a leader. A strong one. I've listened to him malign Daughter to Son during the few times I've taken her with me to pick them up, telling Son, "Just ignore her," when she tried to be part of the conversation. Z is a middle child and has no sisters so I understand the psychology of it all but I made sure he understood (and Mr. T has had to say the same, I found out) that he was not going to belittle my girl to my boy and start a rift in a perfectly good relationship. Son already acts like she isn't there when friends come over and I expect this but it hurts her feelings and she doesn't get it.

I could see years of Son being a lapdog to Z and God knows who else and I wasn't having it. I was already trying to figure out how to get the boy to do independent thinking. The last thing I needed was for him to get labeled as a baby among his peers for crying over trading cards. But in explaining all this, there's the whole balance of reacting to things as they really are and then telling them how it should be and acting as if it were. It's a difficult dance to master.

I told Son about being a leader and being a follower and standing alone.
I told Son it's alright to cry but you have to learn to check those feelings in certain places.
I told Son that Z wasn't wrong about the cards and neither was he. It's life.
I told Son to start thinking about his criteria for friendship and making sure people fit the bill before you bestowed that title.
I told Son that the school years are tough and kids can be mean. Don't make it easy for them to make your life hard.

Hopefully he gets his cards back but what I'm really hoping is that he'll never trade his self-respect for someone else's approval.

Chopping the "Block"

H&R Block. Gotta hate 'em.

OK, maybe "hate" is a strong word.

H&R Block. Gotta avoid them like the plague. There. That's more like it.

I'm trying to recall if I told you guys about them doing our taxes last year. Not because I wanted them to but because Mr. T just went all on his own without consulting wifey. His brothers are accountants and one of them had been doing our taxes when we first got married but I think this stuff is best done outside of the family and after awhile bro-in-law's life got too hectic to deal with our finances anyway so it all worked out for the best, I say. That's when Mr. T. went to H&R Block and I was happy to let him just to get away from family. Now I knew then we needed an accountant but hadn't made serious efforts to get one.

After we bought the house in December 2006, I knew it was time to get that accountant but in February 2007, Mr. T. once again paid a visit to H&R Block and that was before I had a chance to find someone. I had been asking around, kind of waiting for the perfect one to land in my lap. But it didn't happen in time. Next thing I knew the taxes were done and Mr. T had something for me to sign.

"You may not like it," he warned. We had paid taxes every single year since we had been married so I wasn't going to be surprised to find we'd have to pay again. If we had an accountant, we might have gotten this whole thing figured out by now and been able to keep our money.

"How bad is it," I asked, stiffening for the reply.

"4 G."

"What?! You'd better be kidding, Mr. Jokester." Mr. T is known for his constant pranks. I had hoped he gave me a crazy figure to lighten the blow for the real number which was much less. My hopes were dashed. We owed over $4,000 and he was swearing up and down it was because I borrowed from my IRA to buy the house.

"No way. You can take up to $10,000 for a first-time home purchase. I told my adviser to factor in taxes so I ended up with a little over $11,000. That's about $1,000 taxable. That's NOT $4,000."

Mr. T shrugged. "I'm not signing that," I told him. "She's wrong." He shrugged again. "You call that woman and make an appointment. She needs to prove her math."

So off we went to look over her shoulder. According to her figures, my IRA withdrawal cost me about $150 in taxes. I gave Mr. T. my told-you-so nod. The culprit, it turned out, was his second job. Hardly any taxes were taken out at all. We're talking two figures here. Crazy. I could have smacked him. "Why didn't you have any taxes taken out of this money? I know it's barely $5,000 but still!" On top of that, he didn't have enough taken out of his primary job either. Great day. But this isn't why H&R Block sucks.

I have an FSA - flexible spending account - and that money is taken out pre-tax, which means your taxable income is less. H&R Blockhead, now known as HRB, didn't know what it was. "You do taxes and don't know what an FSA is? Or an HSA? What the heck?!" So HRB called over a co-blockhead and together they proceeded to tell me that yes, you add that income back in afterward. All I could do was shake my head because I knew it couldn't be right but I couldn't prove it. "After a certain income level, FSA hurts you, not helps you," they told me. I just never heard of such a thing. Could they be right? All I knew is we had over $4,000 to find, mostly because of Mr. T. but the FSA wasn't helping either.

I asked the HR people at my job. They hadn't heard such a thing.
I asked my parents. They were just as confused.
I asked friends. They were perplexed. FSA was good, they thought. Yeah, so did I.

Enter Mr. Accountant in 2008. He had come to speak to one of my business groups and I liked the vibe I got from him. I emailed him and it still felt right. I had my partner go with me to meet him and it was wonderful. "We want you to do our business and personal taxes, since they go hand-in-hand."

Mr. T and I went this past Saturday and you know what I had in tow.

"You see this, Mr. Accountant? This is last year's taxes. I just know HRB fouled them up. Can you check?"

"Of course!" He started to fiddle with the papers. "Hmm. Why did she add the FSA money back in?"

"Precisely!"

He shook his head. "No, no. She didn't do this right. That's not supposed to be added back in. Look at this."

He showed me a piece of paper where the preschool expenses should have been reflected. Even if FSA didn't count all of a sudden, Mr. T had paid his half in cash and had receipts for them. You can claim up to $5,000 in childcare expenses. The line read $0. "I knew it," I muttered.

"When did you buy your house? 2006? Let me see your closing papers. They don't always do that right either." He shook his head again. "Yeah, see this?" He showed me two lines on the closing papers. One was over $3,000 in costs we had incurred. The other was about $584. "She put in this $500 figure but she didn't factor in the $3,000 plus. This is supposed to go in too."

Mr. Accountant thinks we've got about $1,000 coming back to us from HRB's screwup. I'm hoping more but it will be a minute before we get it since these taxes have to be re-filed and for that you have to use the good old U.S. Post Office.

We left our new accountant content in the knowledge that not only would we finally have our first married year in 6 years where we don't owe a thing but we know we'll get money back to boot. And I get vindication. My plan is to take this baby back to HRB and show her the error of her ways. I just want to say, "Go back for more training," but I'll try to make it a positive thing for her. "Hey just wanted you to be aware..." So you don't screw anyone else up in the future.

Do not use H&R Block once your life gets complicated. Pass the green square or you may not be able to collect $200 or any other amount. It's worth the investment to get someone who is on your side and will listen about your life and ask you questions to figure out what you could be deducting and aren't. Or warn you about potential trouble down the road if you don't make changes. My guy is really sweet on top of all this so it's a pleasure to work with him. And after a year of fuming, it's nice to finally have sweet financial relief.

Erractic Cling

I am livid right now and it will seem so small you'll wonder why.

You see, Son is super affectionate. I know he was born this way. For as long as he's been able to control his movements, he has fallen asleep by clinging to someone. As a baby, he'd palm my face and drift off. Even if he moved, his hand didn't. I let him sleep with me until he was three. Not always recommended, I know, but he was mine and I liked watching him sleep. By the time he was three, though, Daughter had settled herself in for entrance into the world 8 months later so it was time to transition the first-born to his own bed.

He made the change faster than expected but his clinginess never changed. He had a pacifier early on but I tossed that thing by the time he was two. Nevertheless, the sucking habit sticks with him too and I know he's not even aware he does it. To this day, when he's in that baby mode and wants to cling to me, his lips spontaneously purse like he's sucking on something and he strokes my face or my arm or my hand. or my back. Now, I don't mind affection generally speaking, but after almost 8 years of this, it is wearing thin. I know this is him yet I roll my eyes ever time I see him sneaking up and I brace myself. Oh boy, free me already! And in case you're wondering, yes, he does this to Mr. T. also.

The problem for me, however, is he does this to just about anyone. Family members seem OK with it but we try to intercept before he wears out his welcome. I am always telling him to give people their space. I keep trying to explain to him that not everyone wants to be touched. Still, he does it. My big problem is he's forever hugging on his sister and kissing some part of her out of the blue like he does with us. I know he doesn't mean any harm but it's enough already.

I've told him repeatedly that he has to keep his hands to himself. I can't impress it upon him enough that this overzelous affection of his is going to land him in trouble one day and it would be unnecessary trouble. The wrong girl. The wrong place. Anything could be misconstrued.

"No one should ever have to say no or stop to you more than once, Son. Never."

He doesn't get it. I know he doesn't. It's not serious to him. It's meaningless the things I say. He keeps coming up out of the blue, hugging us and kissing us. I say quit it and he smiles like it's a challenge. I'll bet it just doesn't seem that big a deal yet, huh?

Well, really it's all about learning to respect other people's space. That's all I want from him. But how many times has Daughter come to tell me how he kissed her cheek yet again. Or he's hugging her and not letting her go. I've told him repeatedly to leave her alone. "She's your sister. Not your girlfriend. Stop touching her when she doesn't want to be touched." I have said this. I have snorted this. I have yelled this. But just about daily I have to say the same thing and I am beyond annoyed with it.

He sits in his room now while I calm down because I have had to scream it yet again. "I'm sorry," is all he can say to me but I'm still mad. "Why? Why can't you keep your hands to herself? Can't you understand that outside of here there are going to be people less tolerant of your unwillingness to listen and take no for no? Someone is going to hurt you one day. The wrong person and you could end up in jail, Son. Or worse, dead. What do I need to say to get you to see this?"

Yeah, I talk in extremes when I do this but for me it's the same as getting it through his head that he has to do well in school and he has to be the leader or stand alone but to be careful whom he follows. He doesn't understand it yet that he is a black male and that society is not yet there when it comes to not jumping to conclusions about him and his behavior. The last thing I want to hear down the road is that he was silly with the wrong person.

I don't know. Maybe I need to hug this out of him, huh? Maybe if I let him hug me all day likes he wants to, he can get this clinginess out of his system. Maybe he's just not getting enough affection from me. Maybe I'm blowing this up bigger than I need to. Yet, I don't think so. I think he needs to learn self-control. He'll be 8 soon and these things get less cute as time goes on.

I think I'm calm now so thank you for listening.

What Time Is It?

It's our first REAL snow in The Nutmeg State. Since Son is on school break and Daughter's preschool is closed and Mr. T. said he had to work overtime, I find myself working from home - sorta. I'm online with my job but really I wasn't thinking before I left last night so I'm not as prepared to work from home as I could be. But work actually had me trolling blogs and I was checking out this blogger and reading through some of her stuff when I came across an interesting little quiz.

I took it twice, first answering the way I wanted to for most and the best answer for the rest, though I was torn. Then I went back and stuck with the sure-thing answers and then for the rest answered the way I kinda wanted to answer the first time around but ummm, ohh maybe that other answer fits better? I got the same results both times. Hmm. I'm a little surprised but then again, kids really do change one's ways, I think. Spouses have a harder time pulling that off but kids? Yeah, we might change a little for them.



See what time YOU are.

Plastic Perspective

So I've been too busy / tired / lazy / dazed and confused to hang out in the blogosphere lately. So I haven't been visiting my friends. I do have a little something I can say today but before I did so, I thought I'd go check in with everyone.

You see this morning, I helped Son respond to some email from a friend of his because I had just remembered to look at some cards Mr. T. (aka Teddy Bear) had emailed me yesterday but I couldn't see on my Mac. So he sent Teddy Bear-themed cards, I took a read and I saw Son had email. But before I let him respond so I could go get dressed for work, I noticed Lynn had stopped by! Well, lookey there! I know she's in deeper than I am so I was pleased. "Gotta go see what's going on in her world today," I promised myself. You see Lynn, and a certain someone else who knows who she is, has one of those lives you couldn't make up if you tried. It's not a slight against her at all. She's simply got a bloggable life and it makes fantastic reading but hearing it in person is way better. So I know it will be something good when I get there.

Knowing I need to catch up on Lynn and the certain-someone-else reminded me that Theresa had visited not too long ago and wished me a Happy Valentine's Day and I hadn't had a chance to stop back by her place too. Hey Theresa, got any suggestions for what I can do to entertain 4 8-year-old boys? I'm letting Son have a sleepover for his birthday next month - maybe - if I can stomach the thought. Should be a bloggable moment. I don't really have a ton of those, you know.

So at lunch today, I tore myself away from the millions of things I needed to do, and stopped in on Liz first. As usual her blog was looking super spiffy. (She did mine too, you know. Still grateful and loving it.) My poor Liz is having major back issues and they have been going on far too long. I know and I know she knows God has His timing but man, it just seems He's not always thinking about how WE see His timing, you know? As my pastor says, straight talk makes straight understanding and there is no sense in faking the funk as if being a Christian means you understand what God is doing at all times or feel the need to pretend like it's all right when it really isn't. I don't mince words with Him and I know He does the same for me. So Lord, I understand - in my limited ability - why people suffer and sometimes have to but I'll always yearn for you to give certain people a break sooner rather than later. Liz is one of those people.

Sigh.

So off to Theresa's place I go, where she mentioned the dinner she cooked for the love of her life and it made me laugh because his favorite part of the meal was, well, go see for yourself! And I can attest to the slight chagrin she felt. But hey, we do the best we can. Thank God people still love us for it, eh? Theresa had also talked about what BooMama was up to and man it had been too long since I visited her. BooMama's latest exploits are truly life-altering. Makes mine pale in comparison. But I thought about that.

Liz had mentioned on her blog about having a pretty quiet life (aside from the back pains) and not making too great a read lately but I told her I thought she and I were of a different sort for the most part. Liz has mega-family so she has way more interesting things going on daily, I'm sure. But I think her role in the blogosphere is probably a great part encouragement and inspiration and simply letting people know she's supporting them, you know? And I think I'm more like that as well.

So while I'll try to be mildly entertaining, I'll happily settle into my role as voyeur and soapbox resident and tell you what I was going to blog about for a brief moment - plastic surgery. Yep, didn't see that coming, did you?

Well, I may have mentioned that about 3 years ago I had a major eczema breakout during the time we were moving from my apartment of 10 years in with Mr. T's mother so we could save and look for our first house. I was also taking a 16-week business course so my partner and I could take things to another level. My daughter was also about 9 months at the time and walking around getting into things. I also HATED MY JOB with a passion I never knew I could muster, so I was looking to leave but knowing I would have had to give a work history to someone soon enough regarding a mortgage application. I was stressed to the max, my friends, and stress is a major issue for my skin. On top of that, I wasn't completely back to myself anyway since I had had Daughter a mere 9 months previously and pregnancy ain't good for my skin either. (My new doctor ought to be more accommodating than my previous ones were, however, so if I go for round 3, I'm a little more confident about keeping myself together.)

Anyway, things got REALLY bad to the point where I couldn't walk for two days. After 5 months of this, Mr. T's co-worker recommended someone and that is the man who God used to make a difference - and fast. So now, three years later I have one lingering, visible reminder of that breakout (I can live with the invisible and moderately invisible ones). I wasn't thrilled with it but I can deal, you know? With what, you wonder? My little friend there. See her? Of course you do, how can you miss her! But please excuse me if I don't blow her up for you, eh?



Anyway, one day the amazing dermatological doctor said to me, "Oh, a plastic surgeon should be able to take care of that easily."

Almost got whiplash but don't have time for a chiropractor right now. "I'm sorry, what did you say? Really? I had never even thought of that!" All those episodes of Nip/Tuck that I salivate over and it honestly never crossed my mind.

Because Amazing Doc said it was so, I trusted him and sought out one of the two people he recommended. I liked her website and I liked the fact that she was a woman. My Amazing Gyno is a male, so it's not a feeling of invasion or anything, but for this one, I thought a woman's touch may be in order. She was younger than I expected, pretty, great bedside manner and glancing me over while I pretended she wasn't. I told her how I never thought of this alternative until Amazing Doc said something and hopefully that told her indirectly, "You don't have an ongoing patient in me, my dear."

She sounded promising - until they did an insurance check. They weren't listed as an approved provider. Darn. Mr. T has great insurance but gotta run into a wall sometimes. So I checked up on Doc 2 and saw he was on the list. Whew. Made my appointment and he was less pleasing in the bedside manner - only slightly, though. There was some dry humor in there. He was also mega forthright when I asked questions. "I am going to tell the insurance company this is reconstructive surgery, not cosmetic. And most likely they will cover everything, I haven't had a problem yet, but it's always their choice to not cover it." Ah, sweet insurance ambiguity. On top of all that: "I can understand your hesitation," he says. "It's a risk for me too! They don't even tell me if they are going to cover it until AFTER it's done!"

What?! How can that be? But I can't go into insurance nonsense right now.
The potential hit if they say no? $750.
My self-esteem if I say yes? Priceless.

I had already made up my mind to do it. Plastic Doc took a look at my c-section scar to see how I'd heal and he was pleased with it. "Did it twice too. You ought to hear my Gyno," I told him. "He's amazed every time he looks at it." Despite the eczema, I am a fast, thorough healer and I don't keloid, like many African-Americans do, so it seemed I should be good to go. I just had to check on Mr. T's schedule because Plastic Doc said while it's an in-office procedure, someone should drive me there. About 5 days with however many stitches it takes and he should be able to remove them after that. "I go after them sooner when it's on the face," he explained. Hmm. Lady Plastic Doc would have let it stay longer. Interesting but he better be right.

So, I'm set for March 21st. How's that for a bloggable moment?

More Marital Musings

It's after midnight. I should be going to bed but this is my podium so I must speak - yet again.

I started tonight, on my way home from work, talking to a girlfriend about the business she is in in an effort to figure out a new program my partner and I want to introduce in our business. But we didn't get to talk about that right away. My question of how she was doing was answered with a less-than-enthusiastic response. My business side stepped aside and my encouraging/counseling instincts kicked in. I asked her what was up, suspecting what it could be because we had discussed it many times before and I was right - marriage issues.

I have happily married friends. I have delusionally married friends. I have newly married friends. I have divorced friends. I have friends in longtime marriages that have hit a rough patch. I have single friends with live-in partners and those with no partners at all. And oh, yes, I have engaged friends too. This marriage thing never ceases to amaze me because you can never hear it all. Sometimes there seems to be no limit to the patience some people have and shouldn't. At times there seems to be no depth to the lows people will sink to to hurt their loved one and when I say loved one, you know what I mean? I mean S-P-O-U-S-E. Yeah, yeah. I can be judgmental. Yeah, yeah. I act like I know it all. I know this. But my stance is clear - life is different after marriage. Yes, there are exceptions to every rule so pull out all the examples of other couples you want. It doesn't change my mind on this. I simply KNOW this because I've crossed that threshold.

Before I got married people asked me, "Are you SURE you want to do this?" I think I may have said it here before that before I got married, it seemed that married folk were part of this strange secret club that they alluded to but never confirmed directly. They weren't telling me not to join but they weren't encouraging me either. And it wasn't necessarily a club you felt you wanted to join anyway after all that. In this case, reservations wouldn't get you into this club. They kept you out. But once you joined, oh boy! The tome of MARITAL TRUTH came out and people's real issues were freely shared because now you were a member. You were hit with a strange reality about the whole thing. Now, that reality could hit immediately, gradually or just suddenly after some time passed but it will hit. I promise you that. But again, that doesn't have to be a bad thing.

You know, no one could really explain this to me then and I can't fully explain it now. I can only say THINGS WILL CHANGE. Maybe for the better. Maybe not. And yet THINGS WILL STAY THE SAME AND INTENSIFY. You can only hope and pray that intensity is for the better.

It's so cliche. "Marriage is work." But I believe this is another truism that can only be deeply understood after experiencing it. I have friends who have been experiencing their lion's share of marital issues and I feel for them because it's hard to listen to them and hear their pain and not be able to help beyond that listening role. But you can't. Because no one can work your marriage for you. You have to invest that time yourself. But I do pray for them and ask God to give them wisdom and more patience and the energy they need to do whatever they need to or the ability to walk away and cool off - or even walk away for good.

My friends call me because they know I am the counselor. They know I am the encourager. They know I won't just take their side but I will try to listen and if I think I can see some point from the husband's perspective, I'll tell them. They know I will never suggest divorce. That can never be my decision but my job is to support them and if I have to, defend them because that's what I do. But this is one battle where everyone loses if the big guns are pulled out so we all must be gentle. Marriage is fragile and strong. It is energizing and life draining. It is time consuming and freeing. There is great potential for great achievement if everyone works together but working together isn't always instantly accomplished.

You see how rambly this post is? That's marriage for you. Just a jumble of words sometimes. But we know some things for sure:

1 - speak slowly, speak carefully because words hurled in anger are trapped in the mind forever, even after forgiveness is given.

2 - a person will change if they choose to but YOU can't change them no matter how cold your shoulder is or how much you try to bribe them. You can only change you and how you choose to react.

3 - counseling is not a sign of failure but a show of love and care for your relationship. (oh, but for goodness sake, don't seek the counsel of people who already told you not to marry that loser. There's no unbiased opinion to be found there.)

4 - in the beginning, amazingly enough, simply being married can be a time consuming activity.

5 - you can't have it all in one person. That's what friends (and God) are for.

There's other stuff too but that's not my frame of mind. I'm simply musing on the intricacies of this union of souls. For me, it's a pleasure - over all. The details can get muddy sometimes but I knew who I was marrying (as much as anyone can know someone they haven't literally known their entire life) and I still chose to deal with his idiosyncracies. I have some friends who would not say the same thing. It does make me appreciate what I have all the more.

As they used to say in the ceremony, marriage is not something to be entered into lightly (or darkly, for that matter). It's a very big deal. A HUGE deal. I mean to sound scary and ominous and mysterious when I say this because I want it to be understood that married life is serious business but you can't fully prepare for it no matter how hard you try. Knowing YOURSELF, getting some counseling beforehand and as you need it, and having faith - whether it is in God or whatever nurtures your soul - will help you get far. Success, I think, comes from being as selfish as you are selfless.

I need to rest. Tomorrow I have to call my girlfriend back and encourage her some more and I should probably check up on another sometimes-troubled one while I'm at it and remind her she's not alone either because marriage can be a very lonely place. But I still highly recommend it.

Politicial Science Class in Session

Oh, the political intrigue. My business partner and I were talking this morning about some financials for Village Works. "I heard Denise Nappier giving a speech," she said, "and she said that the business entity tax is no more!" What?! That is truly good news, though we haven't been able to get a confirmation on that yet. Still, if she heard it, then it should be out there somewhere and for small businesses, this is a gigantic deal. The thought is that crazy taxes like this is part of what is keeping business out of Connecticut or driving it out. We're currently talking about $250 we could be putting to other use. I don't know if larger corps foot a larger bill or not but it's the small businesses that employ most Americans, believe it or not. That Denise Nappier rocks, by the way, in case you didn't already know it. She is moving and grooving with the Connecticut state budget and making strides. Hate to lose her but Barack and Hillary ought to take notice.

And speaking of, I am no poly sci fan so my knowledge is limited about the whys and wherefores of our questionable system. So it was nice to see this explanation of superdelegates on ABC News recently.

Oh, those super delegates! Now you can see there truly is power in the single vote. Watch and learn.

History in the Making

Did you vote? You'd better! I am normally unaffiliated but I had to register myself in a party because I could not let the opportunity to help put a black man in office get away from me. Mind you, if a white woman makes it, I'll be thrilled. Not AS thrilled, but thrilled.

Daughter and I got out early enough to go vote this morning. No one was in there, surprisingly, so I sailed through. As I took Daughter to school afterward, I gushed about the history she was living right now and didn't know it. Hopefully it will be old hat by the time she's old enough to vote.

There ought to be equally history-making voting going on this year. If you are a woman and never voted before, you ought to get your lazy butt registered and get out there. If you are a so-called minority, same goes for you - ANY minority. Don't you see we can actually put one of these two in power if we ALL vote? Not going to be home? There is such thing as an absentee ballot.

There is no excuse for us not banning together to make this happen. White men with money will always be around and there will always be the "powerful" ones looking to buy an election. Let's not give them the satisfaction this time around.

When it's your state's turn to primary, VOTE! When the general election hits, VOTE! Only then will you be able to take credit when history is made this year.

I Have a Newwwww Phone

And it is puuuurple.



I love this phone simply because it is.

Indescribable

Yesterday, my son was missing was 15 minutes. For Mr. T. who had called to ask me if I had him, it had been a little longer. For my mother-in-law who had been at home waiting for Son to arrive, it was even longer. For my 7-year-old who had gotten off at the wrong bus stop, it was probably an eternity.

I had a doctor's appointment and afterward went home to wait for a meeting I had to go to at Daughter's school. As I drove down the street headed to our street, Mr. T's ring sounded in my pocket.

"You got Son?"

"What? No. Why would I have him?" I looked at the clock. It was 4 and he should have been at my ML's about 3:20.

"My mother said he didn't get off the school bus."

"What? I'm near the house, maybe he forgot he was going to her house and he's there."

I turned down our street as I said this, hoping to see him standing outside our door.

"My mother just left our house. She drove over here when he didn't show."

All I could do was listen to him as I pushed all desires to panic aside.

"Did you try your sister's house? Maybe he went there."

As I pulled up to her house, which is around the corner from us, I saw Mr. T driving up behind me. I rang her bell.

"B. Have you seen Son?"

"No, I was over at mommy's house waiting with her. He didn't get off the bus."

Mr. T sat in his car. I could see him thinking.

"OK. Where would he be," I asked out loud. I called his school hoping someone was still there. "He's not the wandering kind. At least not outside of our presence." The phone kept ringing at the school.

"No answer," I said to no one in particular. Then I remembered the little girl who lives across the street from MIL and takes the same bus as Son. She's a 6th-grader now, always protective of Son when he's on the bus and she would have made sure he was with her.

"Did you talk to S," I asked Mr. T. He perked up at the idea.

"No, I'll go see if she's home."

"OK, and I'll go to the school."

He drove off and before I could get to the end of the block he called.

"My mother has him. The police brought him home."

"The police? How did they get him?"

"He got off at the wrong stop and there was a woman who saw him and called the police."

Oh thank God, I thought, hanging up the phone and heading toward my MIL's house.

I've read this crap enough times. Kids smaller than mine have been let off at the wrong stop. It's always a miracle a person gets their child back safely. I mean, when they don't go where they are supposed to, then how in the world do you begin to look for a needle in a haystack? We don't know every stop that bus makes so there was no way to trace the route ourselves. We would have had to call the police but thankfully someone else beat us to it.

I got to the house and saw the police car still out front. Running in the back door, there he was eating a cookie, his signature silly grin nowhere on his tearstreaked face. He looked composed but clearly wasn't just a short while before then.

"What happened? Are you alright?"

"He was brave," the officer told me. "Knew his address and was able to tell me where to go."

There had been confusion about why he got off where he did and as we explained to the officer that Son was getting off this stop all this month, I clutched my son and stroked his face, my hands constantly reassuring me that he was really there. I'm looking down at him and thinking how big he feels to me now yet his face betrays his age and while he's tall, he's always been slight. His jacket may be bulky but clearly he's still a baby. So how did this bus driver let him get off at the wrong stop?

"You know, I want to give this guy the benefit of the doubt but Son has been getting off here all month. The school knows about it and they are supposed to tell the bus drivers too. It makes no sense. Was he a new driver, Son?"

"No."

Everyone just shook their heads.

"I am going to make a report and give it to the school and the bus company."

"Good," I replied. "I will be fussing them out tomorrow."

All this went down in the space of one hour. I had Son take us back to the house of the woman who called about him so I could thank her in person as well as see the street where he got off so I could figure out how this mixup happened. I saw the street. It still makes no sense.

"We could have been childless," Mr. T said later that night.

"Not childless. We still have Daughter. But there's no need to think that way now."

But how do you not? If we had needed them, we have his latest pictures and we have his fingerprints. We would have called the cops the moment Mr. T found out that S had not seen him either. Actually she hadn't been on the bus that day and that was part of the issue for Son. If she's not there, the bus driver doesn't stop at the street he needs to get off on so he thought he'd get off down the street instead. But he misjudged and found himself someplace he didn't recognize. A dead end street. Two other kids got off there too - they were all the last kids off the bus, he said. When Son realized he was lost, he started to cry and the kids took him to the house of woman they knew who used to babysit them. She had been calling our house while we were out looking. When we didn't answer, she asked her husband what they should do and that is when they looked out and saw a cop outside dealing with another situation. That cop called another whose job is dealing with children and that is the officer who brought him home.

As I thought about that I realized that there was no point in imagining the worse because it was clear that when Son got off at the wrong stop, he got off in the hands of God who steered him not only to a woman with a 7-year-old of her own but he sent a cop down her dead end street as well. It was under control all along. That may have been why panic never got a chance to settle in.

Son knows home numbers but he hasn't memorized our cell phone numbers yet. He will now. Mr. T and I went to bed thinking that things could have been very different. I have chosen to not dwell on it nor to imagine how lost my son may have felt because that stuff only breaks your heart. He's safe. That's what matters and the bus driver's company has lots of explaining to do to me. Today I'm just thanking God for helping me to remember that He sees in low places and in high; He is the ultimate protector of children even though things don't always turn out as we pray they will. We can't explain all the evil that happens to children and we'd just pull our hair out trying to understand the seeming inequity of it all. I can't go there. I can only focus on the 2 He's given me and thank Him that I still have 2 to continue caring for.

Office Space

I had to take a day off from work. I told you last time that my energy level is currently below normal and yet it may be more that I simply want to focus on just one thing at a time right now. Well, maybe just a few things.

I needed to find out why my computer was so darned slow. (Now I know plus I'm informed I have a CD burner that I didn't even now I had!) I needed to do some stuff for my business. And I needed to do one more important thing.

As you already know, my office has been a constant source of aggravation because I want it neat. So yesterday I completed the 2nd round of purging and now I have only what I need - want - love in there, in a pile on the floor or in a box, waiting for me to get it a permanent home. Yesterday I also had to go to the store with my partner and get the puzzles swapped out for Valentine's Day so when I finished sorting the stuff in my office, I had an hour to spare before she showed up at the store. Off I went to the nearby HomeGoods and Target to see what kind of storage solutions were out there that might fit the bill.

Qualifications?
Has to be colorful.
Has to be fun for me to handle.
Has to be roomy.
Has to NOT be too expensive so I can get more than one of something.
Has to have at least 2 of one thing available so I can have a set.

HomeGoods has a lot of great, unique stuff but either it's too basket-y or the wrong color or too floral or simply costs more than I want to pay right now. I saw one potential that zipped. But I'm not sure yet about the actual depth of the cubbies in the bookcase so I have to get that first and measure the space. Those boxes may be too big. Plus it has major blue stripes in it (though it also has the other colors I want) so I'm not sure it will work. But that zipper is very enticing. Still, it has to be love at first sight AND fit the bill. This one is love but may not fit the bill so off to Target I went.

They must have been doing inventory because there were clerks in nearly every aisle beeping and booping and, frankly, getting in my way! I still had time before I had to go to MY store so I walked up and down thinking and looking and seeing potential but not quite it. You know, there are baskets all over the place really but you have to go everywhere to see them because they are not all in one place. I have watched enough HGTV to have it ingrained in me that you don't have to use something the way it was created to be used. I checked out the storage things in the kitchen section. I headed to the kids' section and the home section, the bathroom section and the fancier home section that sits all by itself at the back of the store enticing you with its luxurious display of worldly items. Zip. Annoyed, I started to wander back to pay for the one little drawer organizer I picked up when I looked down an aisle and saw more interesting green. (Why can't this stuff just all live together?)

Indeed there was more good-looking stuff and when hope was just about gone, I spotted this:



And it had a friend! But no price. I found a nearby scanner that blissfully informed me that this sweet canvas box in the pretty green color with the equally solid top was only $10. There were two more around in a light blue - there goes that blue again - but I opted for just the two for now because I knew what could live in them and I knew they would fit on those shelves no matter what size it was.

It's amazing how such a find can make a person happy but it does. I have to remind myself every now and again that, as my grandmother would have said, I get my love of this stuff honest. After all, I did plan to be an interior designer once upon a time. I could sit in a furniture store going through decorating mags with HGTV on in the background and NEVER grow tired. My idea of heaven on earth, for sure.

I took my weighty boxes, happily forfeited the twenty bucks and went off to meet my friend at the store. I won't go into details on that right now but we left there pretty invigorated too so yesterday was a very fruitful and satisfying day overall.

Those zippy boxes are still in my head though. There IS another HomeGoods one town over from where I work. They WERE very sturdy boxes. And pretty. And zippy. It wouldn't hurt to get just one, right?

Internal Conversations

Where have you been, Monica?!

Oh, around.

Doing what? You haven't been blogging. Bad blogger!

Yes, yes. I know. I know. But you know what? I'm in a downcycle at the moment. You'll have to forgive me.

A downcycle?

Yes, I tend to have long spurts of energy and creativity (this last one has actually been going since I was pregnant with Daughter fours years ago) and then one day - poof! - I'm done. There's only enough energy to do what I need to do. See, I think I told you once I could be a little bit compulsive, a little bit of a perfectionist...

I've heard tales.

Silence! As I was saying, my body and I work really well together. No matter how much I may want to do something, when it's time to chill, my body just shuts down and refuses to let me do more the minimum.

What's the minimum?


Well, work, of course, because we do have 2 kids and a mortgage and a need to eat and drink. Mind you, work has been HECTIC. Beyond hectic and curiously enough, I'm not on a downcycle there. But there isn't much energy for much else. I go to work, I come home and do what I need to do. That's it.

What about your business?

This is one of those times when it has to sort of fend for itself, unfortunately. We have the puzzles in the store so they don't need me there, though there is a marketing idea I need to implement there. We have our new marketing person who is doing the thinking at the moment. Just have to wait to see what he comes up with. And we have our old marketing person who SHOULD be working on something for the 20008 holidays so she doesn't need me to bug her just yet. (I'll do it when I have a spurt of energy. Got to make sure she's on track. I am a perfectionist after all.)

Well, what about your business partner?

She is literally doing the work of 3 people at her job. She's sort of out of commission herself unless I tell her I need her to do something. Then she does it. But being proactive is out of the question for her at the moment, I'm afraid.

And home?

Home is great. I do have the energy to take care of it because I think I told you I wanted to do a little more nesting this year. So Saturday I ran around getting a few more things for the kids' bathroom so I could finally get the stupid shower curtains up and a curtain at the window. Boy is my bathroom floor happy (and drier) now! And after church on Sunday, I cleaned more stuff out of my office, purging the 2006/2007 papers and sending them to live in the garage until maybe 2010 or 2011. I should be able to toss those by then, yes? I also relegated the two bins full of baby stuff to the garage as well until - until - just until. Now doing all this meant I had to also do a little straightening in the garage so I did that too because I REFUSE to have my garage look like a forgotten storage unit. So after shifting things around in there and tossing some stuff out, I went back to my office to finish things up and now I finally have the space created for the 2 bookcases I will be getting. Honest! There are empty spaces on 2 of my walls where bookcases will soon live. I did more online shopping and nothing is topping those Ikea bookcases in terms of not only price but size. They seem to offer more room than others I found. My feet were killing me by the end of the night but there is nothing left to do in that office now except give everything a home. I'm working on that.

Sounds like you're rolling along then!

I am indeed.

So you aren't REALLY doing nothing.

No, never not doing nothing. That would be just boring for me. Just doing less right now. Some things are simmering on the back burner, some are cooking with gas. I get my hair done. That's something, yes? I take Son to his cub scout stuff. That's something else. It's all good.

So when will you be blogging again?


What? I just did, silly!