Crazy Merry Go Round of Cars

Let me start with an introduction of the players because it is gonna
get confusing fast and I need it as a cheat sheet for their assumed
names.

Baby Girl: my sister who had the sweet but of nuffin the day before
thanksgiving.

Bloggy SIL: my sister in law of Hubbys side. A fellow blogger and
accidental mom of five.

Shutter Bug: Hubbys brother, married to Bloggy SIL.

Soccer Mom: Bloggy SIL older sister.

Ok. We have all the players I have yet to blog about or name I think.

The crazy car swapping started with Baby Girl selling Hubby her
beloved car about year and a half ago.

Hubby previously drove a big red truck. It had a V8 and got about 14
miles to the gallon. After changing jobs a few times he started at his
curent company where a truck was not required.

Baby Girl decided that she needed to give up her beloved little green
car for a SUV with 4 wheel drive that could handle the hill her house
is situated on when it is covered in snow and ice. Perfect timing, we
bought it and Hubby gave up Big Red.

Shutter Bug and Bloggy SIL found out they were suddenly against all
the odds pregnant again. With twins. Again. They traded their SUV for
a mini van that could carry their family of seven. They kept Shutter
Bugs red covertible.

The red convertible is old and has spent almost as much time in my
garage as my van has. They need to have two cars and with the limited
budget that comes with five kids, it keeps getting fixed. Its most
recent visit was to have a new engine put in.

During the pick up of the three older girls who had the sleepover
Shutter Bug mentioned that Soccer Mom's hubby got a new van and would
like to give them their old one. Yay! Thank you for the generous offer
to Shutter Bug and Bloggy SIL.

Hubby calls me later while he is picking up his contacts and tells me
Shutter Bug and Bloggy SIL would like to give us the red convertible.
It needs a new home since they have the new van; and the convertible
thinks our of garage as its second home so it would be happy to make
it a permanent home.

I was too sick to care so I said fine. It is a very nice offer. Thank you.

Hubby then tells me the details of the change as he sees it happening.
He will take the red convertible, and I will drive the little green
car. We will keep the van for those times that we need extra room.
(Read this as his car for his band equipment.)

He will take me out driving this coming weekend to teach me to drive
stick and then finally replace the clutch with the new one that has
been collecting dust in our garage since he said the orginal one was
going about five months ago.

Let me just point out here that I owned a motorcycle for years before
divorcing Ex Husband. So even though I have never driven a car with a
manual trans, I am not a stranger to driving stick.

Ok, so back to car saga. I am not sure I want the events to unfold as
Hubby thinks they should. I am not sure I am willing to give up my
monster for the little green car.

Is my monster ready for retirement? Yes. Have I talked about getting a
small car again like the one I gave up to get the monster? Yes, I
have. Does the monster have more miles on it then the green car? About
50K and getting more every day. So what's my problem right?

It is a two door; I have two kids that I drop off at Daycare everyday
while they are sleeping. Not so easy to do with a two door car. It
also doesn't have remote start. Call me a spoiled brat, but I require
remote start. When the temp is 5- or 102 it is really nice to get into
a car that is neither freezing cold or burning hot with a push of a
button.

But most of all, I don't want to to be them. That crazy red neck
family that passes around cars and never has a decent one. And damn it
I work hard and bring home a good pay check. I deserve to have some
nice things.

To be fair, my beast is only a couple years old. We bought it used
with 23K on it. It was previously owened by a rental company so it was
only 6 months old when we got it. We still have to make 9 more
payments on it and it has 175K miles on it so will have no trade in
value. I get it. I'm hard on cars. I drive 140 miles each day so the
miles add up quick. But that doesn't mean I shouldn't have a car I
like.

I am not looking for a brand new car with all the bells and whisles. I
am just looking for a car that hasn't been handed down a million
times. I know that by buying a used car that it is in theory a hand me
down, but it is one I chose, not one I get by default.

Update: During my sick time, Hubby and I had lots of time to discuss
this. He has come to understand my concerns and has agreed to give it
more thought. I agreed to drive the little green car a few times to
see if I fall in love with it like I did with the rental car I had
while the trans was being replaced on the beast.

Either way, I am going to continue to drive the beast for a few months
while the dust settles and we make a final decision. At least one good
thing came out of being so sick.

--
Sent from my mobile device

Much Better Now

I just want to say sorry to anyone who read the garbage I posted yesterday.

I'm not sorry that I wrote it and posted it. I stand behind the
emotions and thoughts that were posted. I do have a problem with the
delivery though. I know for future reference not post what I write
when I am running a 102 fever.

As you can tell, I started the post before I got sick and was
coherent. Everything after the first paragraph was written in snatches
of time between cleaning up and comforting kids.

The kids are back to their crazy selves and jumping on daddy as I
write. I am still sick, but no longer feel like dying would be
preferable and less painful. Coffee is once again my friend so all is
right in my world.

Hopefully the cousins who slept over were removed before they were
infected with whatever knocked us on our butts.

Tomorrow I will post about the merry go round of cars that evolved
while I was too busy puking to head it off at the pass.

--
Sent from my mobile device

Sickness and Hating Hubby

Last night the kids had a three of their cousins over for a sleep
over. Yay right?

Nope. This morning Buckaroo started the party by puking.

I can handle this. Hubby is sleeping and the kids are hungry so I
start making breakfast. Then he pukes again.

Ok. Send Angel Cakes back upstairs to wake up daddy. Again.

Kids everywhere. Angel cakes tells me her stomach hurts. Yes, baby;
I'm making breakfast.

Clean up more puke. Go upstairs and wake up Hubby.

Wonderful. Angel Cakes starts puking.

Tell Hubby to call the cousins parents. I can't handle one kid puking
and one with it coming out both ends and three extra kids.

Yeah, why would I mind you telling them not coming to get their kids
for an hour and a half?

Don't mind me while I clean up and comfort the kids. You just
concentrate on the other kids.

Fast forward a couple of hours and too many bowls later and I start to
get sick.

Yes, I completely understand why you have to leave to pick up your
contacts. There is no reason to stay here while we are running a fever
and throwing up. You could not possibly pick them up another day.

Clean up again and again. Sleep for 45 blissful minutes before getting
woken up by a puking kid.

They have kept water down for an hour, so make some soup for dinner.

What the hell was I thinking? Of course your old band could not
possibly play tonight if you don't bring the drum riser and stay to
watch the show.

Go. Have a good time. I know; I am the lucky one. I get to stay home
and comfort the kids and clean up while we get sick.

--
Sent from my mobile device

I Wanna Be A Grown Up Again

I normally stay as far away from mirrors and cameras as I can. I hate the way I look.

Ok that sounds a lot more dramatic then it really is, but I haven't liked the way I look for the last couple of years. Since I gave birth to my son really.

I don't want to see the extra pounds I gained and never really got rid of. The lines and bags under my eyes. How when I look in the mirror and don't see the cute 20 something woman my husband fell in love with, and instead see my mother.

I don't have a lot of time for myself anymore so I don't get my nails done every week anymore. I don't do my make up on a daily basis, my hubby and co-workers are lucky if I do it once a month. To say I've let myself go is an understatement.

I started wearing body spray years ago, back when I used the corresponding body wash and lotion. I still use scented body wash, and couldn't do without my scented lotion on my desk, but no don't use all three together every morning anymore.

I started thinking a few months back that I haven't had a bottle of perfume in years. That kinda floored me because I always wore perfume growing up. I had my everyday going to work stuff, and then different ones for at night and going out.

How is it that I am going on 33 and no longer own a single bottle of perfume? This is just wrong and needs to be corrected!

It’s also time to get my hair cut! Gone will be the hair down to my waist. Instead I will be sporting sassy new shoulder length hair that I can actually do something with. I have been blessed with very thick, easy to manage hair, which grows fast. So I share it. Once a year or so I donate my hair to Locks of Love. I've done it almost every year since I was a teenager.

Is it something I am going to continue to do? I'm not sure. It really is a commitment. After my hair grows out of its short sassy style I tend to lose interest in doing things with it. I don't have the time. I end up just putting my hair in a pony tail, or pulling the sides up in a clip. A few weeks ago I bought a couple of head bands. I couldn’t stand them growing up and thought I would give them a try again as something different. They weren’t horrible so I was wearing them nearly everyday. Everyone told me how they great it looked; they loved my new hair style.

Then one day last week I ran to the bathroom to quick throw on some makeup and got a really good look. I looked like I was 5 years old. I was putting on makeup because I was surprised with an interview with someone for the open position in my department. HR finally put the ad in the paper and we have had lots of interest. We are very selective so the applicants only get an interview with my manager and me after a rigorous vetting process. My manager forgot to include me on the meeting request so I had 5 minutes to make myself look presentable.

I take the interviews very seriously because this is someone I will be working with constantly even after they are done with training. I am also of the mind set that this is really going to be their first real impression of my company. Most of the applicants have worked in the industry long enough to know my company by reputation if nothing else, but this is their first real experience with us. Maybe it is just me. Maybe most people don’t think that way, but I do. I care. Anyway, that was a wake up call for me. It made me realize how little attention I have been paying to my appearance lately.

We are going to be filling the position left vacant by the death of my supervisor also. When my hubby asked what we were going to do with the position a few months ago I could tell he was asking me if I thought I had a chance. At the time, I told him I didn’t think so. I didn’t think I had the experience they were looking for and all the internal politics that would take place if that happened.

Then the Vice President mentioned that they have some ideas for what do to with the position, but didn’t give any details. I would love to think that I am going to be considered for the position, but I’m not sure. Do I think I am capable of it? Absolutely. Does the Vice President, Treasurer, and so on love me and my work? Why yes they do. But we are making so many changes to the department it is hard to be sure.

All that lead me to take a good hard look at myself and the image I am presenting. Does it fit with the image the position and company should present? The answer I came up with was no. So I am making changes. Not only because I for work, partially, but not only. I want to look in a mirror and see me not my mom, like the way I look, and feel good about myself.

So here is a plea to you. Any suggestions on a nice perfume? Something readily available, I work close to Chicago, but live in a small town in the middle of a cornfield. Not outrageously expensive, but not a Walgreens special either. Not too heavy, but a good everyday, going to work kind of perfume. And please don’t feel limited to just making suggestions on perfume either. It has been a long time since I have gone shopping or done things for myself.

I will be getting my hair cut next week or so and will post before and after pictures once I do.

A Special Kind Of Crazy

I draft almost all my posts on my BlackBerry. I can write where ever I happen to be or have a spare second. This is all to the good. So why don't I post more?


Because I write and rewrite and edit and pretty up my damn posts so much it takes a couple of days to write a post. But I know you appreciate all my hard work so that makes it all worth while.

Actually I write and rewrite my posts so much and frequently because of my vocabulary. At least once a month my hubby or co-worker will look at me like huh? and ask my to explain what I just said in layman terms. I just use what my Grammy used to call $5 words in conversation. I don't consciously do it. I think in these terms so why wouldn't I use them while talking?

This becomes a problem when I am writing though. I will be typing away and look down to see garbled words staring back at me. I may have a great vocabulary, but I am a horrible speller. I will try to get the spell check and word recognition to understand what I am trying to say. But I normally just give up and have to rewrite the sentence with words my blackberry I and agree on the spelling of.

I am cursed with a stream of thought writing style so I write exactly what I am thinking. I've tried hard to train myself into a more organized writing style to no avail. So having to edit and second guess everything I am writing just disrupts the flow and then I struggle to get my thoughts out.

This also leads me to just putting the sentences down kinda willy nilly and then I have to go back later to put them in a more cohesive order. Arghhh!

My frustration with this reached a new level today while messaging a friend I haven't talked to in about a year.

I use sarcasm as a matter of course. It is just how I talk. It is as much a part of me as my blue eyes. Between fighting to spell stuff right and editing my thoughts, not hearing the tone in my replies, there was quite a few times I had to go back and explain what I really meant.

At one point I actually told him that he got out of the habit of putting everything through the 'Jaime' filter. As in take a moment and think about what I'm saying\you're reading and think about what you know of my personality. Then you will understand what I was really trying to say and how I meant to say it.

It makes it very hard when I meet new people. They don't have a 'Jaime' filter so most of the time I feel like they don't really understand me or what I am trying to say. I end up editing myself more and then something in the whole conversation just seems lost.

I really envy those who can get their thoughts across in type as well as they can in person. Maybe someday I will become one of them.

A girl can dream right?

A Glimpse Into My Weekends

Angel cakes will be starting kindergarten in the fall. Wait. What? Wow! That really is a scary statement.

Like many parents with children this age, we have the magnetic letters and numbers on the fridge. We play a game where we create words and work out the phonics and definition of the word. Then change a letter or two to make new words.

She decided she wanted to play this weekend while I was making breakfast. We started out with ick, which morphed during play into ucky. I should have seen it coming at this point, but I didn't.

I heard her say that she wanted the pink letter so I turned to see her new word. I was suddenly too busy cooking to do the phonics and define the word. But not before snapping a quick pic with my phone to share with you and blackmail her with when she becomes a teenager.

That should have served as a warning to how my day was going to go, but it didn't. My amazing powers of observation were still waiting for the coffee to kick in.

I got started on the Mt Everest pile of laundry that is a week worth of clothes for my family. Quick sort for stray toys and shoes that inevitably find their way in, and throw a load in the washer, and back to making breakfast.

I get about half the clothes into the drier when I see this white stuff on the clothes. Thinking it is just a stray piece of paper I missed, I shake the clothes off and keep going. Wrong! I pull out a pair of Buckaroo's pants that suddenly weigh 5 lbs. A pair of pull ups was stuck in jammy pants sent home from Daycare. Ok everyone with me now..... Ewww!!!!

I have to assume for my peace of mind that they were clean and dry when he took them off otherwise they would have been thrown out right? I mean she has never sent home a pair of pull ups before, but they had to be clean right?

I pull all the clothes out shaking them off as best I can. Spend half an hour cleaning all the little gel pellets that they put in diapers to make them super absorbent out of my washer and drier. Disinfect my drier and run the washer three times with bleach and soap getting more little pellets each time before attempting to wash the same clothes again.

During this experience, because it really is an experience; I keep hearing the Lonestar song Mr Mom run through my head. 'Pampers melt in the Maytag drier.' I can't help wondering how they got to the drier with out this crazy mess.

Look at the clock; its not even 10 AM and it has been a Fucky day. Think to myself, this is why I drive 70 miles each way to work and back.

Hangs Head in Shame

I just found out my MOM had a blog before I did!

Ok it is for her custom jewelry business....

Yes, I'm kinda proud that I have a mom that is savy enough to have a blog....

But really!? My Mom?

I think I must hang up my blogging aspersion since my mom got one before I did.

Ok, I really won't give up on blogging, but now I really must watch what I say around her lest she find my blog and want to read it.