Category: Uncategorized (Page 111 of 188)

“No, I’ll have it right here.” (+5 Bonus points if you can name that movie quote).
So, I realized today at work that I have quite a predicament of social etiquette. It involves my frequent potty breaks and a need for refills in my water glass.
I try to be a good, productive worker bee. I get as much done as humanly possible while in the office. But my body has certain requirements. Such as a need for high doses of fluids, specifically water. And then, once that water has done its thing, it must be disposed of properly. So between the refills and the refuse, I must leave my seat.
Now, don’t you worry your pretty little head. I’m ultra-efficient with my non-cube time. I take my empty glass for my trip to the WC. BUT, you know what that means. I take a cup in when I pee. Well, not into the stall. But into the room. I set it on the sinktop. But people see me go in and out of the potty with a plastic cup in my hand on a regular basis. Empty both times, mind you, but where else does such an event occur other than the doctor’s office? Perhaps I’m just overly accustomed to such activity because it crossed my mind today and it caused much distress. I didn’t know how to fix the problem. There’s no shelf outside the bathroom. Set it on the floor outside the bathroom? I’m very limited on my options.
I could always make separate trips, but I’m pretty sure the IT guys I pass down my row would start using it as fodder for a drinking game or some sort of revenue-accruing gambling event. That’s 4 trips down the row during one “break.”
Short of digging a tunnel to the potty and installing a Culligan dispenser in my cube, I fear that I might just have to be “that girl.” Well hydrated and with strong bladder muscles, sure. But still, that girl.

*Side note one: husband just informed me of his own cup considerations when he arrives at school. I concede that he wins the prize: he doesn’t trust others enough to set it by the sink and the mechanics involved with his pee pee break and my own add a degree of technical difficulty. Apparently there is a balancing act happening to put the coffee cup on the piping of a urinal.
*Side note two: Seriously, does anyone know the opening quote? Hint: it takes place on an airplane. My sister and I used to howl over this one. I’m giggling every time I think it.

Seriously, I know: if these are the things that take up space in my brain, I’m doing pretty well.

1. Oh, my lovely, sweet, sweet baby girl… why won’t you JUST GO TO SLEEP? Love, Mom. No less than 15 trips up the stairs to remove her from standing at the railing (I long ago gave up indicating that I might be impressed by this skill in hopes she’ll quit), I think I know why I’ve only gained 10 pounds so far this pregnancy.
2. The 10 pounds is a bit misleading. My belly button continues to reach skyward and my belt is just 2 notches away from the tub under the bed.
3. Oh, the sweet and spicy goodness that is pepperoni rolls. I secretly hope our friends don’t like them this weekend so I can eat more guilt free. I think I might buy a gallon or so of Padrone’s ranch for some recreational dipping.
4. Husband is currently driving the cheapest car ever. So cheap that there’s no center armrest and he was unable to tilt his seat back. The accord is finally getting a facelift bumper-fixing, but they ordered the wrong bumper so he’s in a rental. Slightly not convenient, but manageable.
5. I finally bought 2 boxes of fruit snacks, the unhealthy kind full of HFCS. And they satisfy. The gummi worms in my purse? Totally not mine.
6. Husband and I finally purchased a game we had our eye on – Dominion. It’s a strategy card game of fiefdoms and castles. Sort of. But it has definately passed the time the past few evenings with some enjoyment of the non-shiny screen variety.
7. Today is one of my few Y&R days so I get to catch up. Victor is turning into a bitter, bitter old man. Something’s going to happen. And Diane is soon going to be doing both Victor AND Nicolas. Phyllis will  go off the deep end when all the men in her life keep “helping” Sharon (perhaps a real identity revealed?). And I’m going to agree with cousin RWB, I think Adam’s going to pull a Michael Baldwin and switch over to the good-guy team with a slightly slick nature. This is me, looking for the best in everyone.
8. Today was another visit to the midwife (note from a midwife-visiting professional: schedule your appointment as early as possible in the AM. They don’t have time to be running late yet). I didn’t see my usual gal, Bonnie, but Deb was ultra-helpful in guiding me to a blood-thinning decision. We’re going with the baby aspirin. I know, you’ve all been holding your breath in suspense.
9. We had a third successful pee-pee on the potty. Cheering and raisins richly abounded. I can only cross my fingers that we’re on a roll.

And, that’s about it. Lists are better in odd numbers, so I’m not going to hurt my brain too much on my day off.

When H began to stay awake through our church service, we started taking him back to the nursery. From the start it’s never been his favorite place. However a few weeks each month one of the youth, Amber, volunteered in the nursery and typically brought her boyfriend to assist. This was perfect for our little “man’s man”, who seemed to gravitate toward the boyfriend. The kid was a good sport about it, holding or playing with H and even acting as if he enjoyed it.
One day I told Youth Director Mark that I wanted to show my support for Amber (as well as indulge in my love of HS girls basketball) by making it to one of her games. We decided on a date to go and Mark mentioned that the boyfriend played as well and was quite good. So we decided to hit one of the boys games as well. At the end of the conversation I asked Amber’s boyfriend’s name again, making a mental note to commit it to memory as it’s probably bad form to ask the name of a person for a 5th time (this post is starting to take on the point of “learn a little more about the people who watch your children, even if it’s for an hour on Sunday”). Mark told me his name was Aaron. 
So we arrive at the LB game, my dad in tow because he loves basketball and there was a kid on this state-ranked team who had committed to Ohio State. After getting there, dad asks, “what is the name of the kid who helps in your nursery?” To which I replied, “Aaron.” Dad said, “you mean Aaron Craft?” I said, “uhhhh, he’s number (whatever his number was in HS).” Yup, H’s favorite big kid was the newest OSU recruit. And I had no idea.
This has caused me to have quite the seasonal obsession with OSU basketball this year. Of course, we also have our Upper Sandusky ties to Diebler, but that was more a situation of shared municipality and mutual friends than actual relationship, though I know him to be a good, relatively down-to-earth kid. I appreciated how well Aaron treated my kid and in my limited interactions with him, I find him to be a stellar person.
My obsession isn’t necessarily the sort where I’m dressing up like a large pompom for the games; it’s more of a mother-like possessive tendency that when I see their faces on big screens I feel protective of them. These are good kids out there, and I hear ESPN announcers offering commentary on their collective self-worth based upon percentages and defensive presence. Granted, this year they’ve been good percentages, but it still pains me nonetheless that these boys wear the weight of hundreds of thousands of fans to be winning machines. Makers of victory.
The way we view athletes and sports in our society troubles me. We idolize these characters and then toss them aside when they fall from the public graces. Do we really have to wonder why so many professional athletes suffer from the stigma of drug addiction, even if not partaking in the Any Given Sunday lifestyle? The money, the girls, the life… we set them high, high above reality and wonder why many come crashing down so hard.
I’m so excited for and proud of Aaron – and Jon – and the opportunity they have ahead of them on this team. It seems from so many avenues (including their current publicity, below) that they’re enjoying a great ride. They’ve kept their perspective, which is what I’m really wishing for. I hope that they know that to many people, they’re more than a means to victory or championship titles. To some little boys, they’re heroes because they’re willing to get down on the floor of a church and play trucks at 8am on a Sunday. The jersey is just decoration.