Category: Uncategorized (Page 123 of 188)

Yesterday at a visit to the midwife’s office (no fears, it’s not another baby, it was for that appointment) we talked about how things were going, how everyone is getting along, life with two children, blah blah blah. I told her how I quite enjoyed life and I was amazed at how smoothly it has went. And she says, “and you’re so laid back about it.” As I rehashed the story to KLR, she asked what the nurse over my shoulder looked like. Surely Bonnie couldn’t have been referring to THIS girl.

So, it turns out I may have missed my calling as an actress. I had her fooled by playing the part of calm, cool and collected.  And in fact this is the first I’ve ever heard reference made to me being a bit, ahem, dramatic. I guess the STAR Players don’t know what they’re missing.

It made me think about my career pathing. I never knew how that first job out of college played an important role in getting you a career in the field in which you were trained. Instead, I became Vice President of the Not Using My College Degree club (KLR was president because she had 2 degrees that sh did not use… I may demand a recount now that I have a second degree that is not currently being utilized for a paid position). Then I moved onto yet another position nowhere near the land of journalism. But let it be said, I’ve enjoyed both of these positions.

So, now that I’ve been blacklisted from the journalism and professional public relations world, I’ve created a list of the careers that perhaps I should now seek out. I can feel freedom to venture into far off lands of positions that suit me perfectly.

1. Head lettuce-tearer at any given salad bar. I owe gratitude to my Grandma Mary for this one, she always wanted it as a retirement job, thus now I seem to have an appreciation for proportionately trimmed lettuce.
2. Office organizer. At any office. Not that I want to work schedules or answer phones or anything of that [practical] nature. I just want to make sure the stapler is correctly placed to the left and slightly above the copier as it’s supposed to be. This position would also afford me the luxury of wondering the office supply aisle of Target and indulging on someone else’s dime.
3. On the side , I would contract out as a kitchen cupboard organizer. My specialty would be move ins. Is there any glee greater than that of efficient spice placement? And how will they know the potholders must be placed in the drawer to the direct right of the oven if someone does not tell them?
4. Office information disseminator. Who has time to keep up on what’s happening with their coworkers? And who even reads the company newsletter? Allow me to station myself at the coffee pot and chitter chatter with my colleagues. No worries, I’ll bring my own mug and creamer. Payroll will fall under “company morale”.
5. Speaking of offices and coffee, my next business venture will be the indoor doughnut cart, complete with decent coffee (read: name brand that doesn’t start with an F and end with an “olgers”) , seasonally themed creamers and a delectable assortment of sweet carbohydrates. I’d only come twice a week so customers would justify it as a “treat” and “splurge” from their “diet”. 

I shouldn’t really limit myself to these best options, they’re only the ones that readily come to mind. What did I miss? Where did you miss your calling?

 A few simple truths have guided me in my general parenting principles: a) everyone is happier when they’ve eaten. b) everyone sleeps better after a bath.

The first one is a gimme, but sometimes it goes without saying that you need to keep a spare bag of raisins in the diaper bag and always take a banana with you when you go places where you can’t devote 100% of your attention to your child (such as, like this morning, the doctor’s office).

However, the bathing thing came unto realization more recently. My mother-in-law led me this way when we were having baths before bed… “it gets the wrinkles out” she said. I know my levels of comfort increase dramatically after a good soak and the same is true of my kiddos.

Turns out, the same is true for your whole wheat carbohydrates. Who knew?

I was first turned on to the concept when I was trying to master beans and rice (still a work in progress). I read in The Art of Simple Cooking (recommend!) that you should rinse the rice and run it through your hands until the water turns all cloudy. Drain, then add the appropriate amount of cooking water. Guess what?! No more crunchy, chewy rice. It was light and fluffy like a pillowy cloud. Then I randomly bought a bag of barley on sale (don’t ask, I have no idea), but I tossed it in my vegetable soup following a similar procedure: success!!

Today’s magic dish was a whole wheat pasta with homemade pesto (thank you KLR), sundried tomatoes, and the last of last week’s roasted chicken. The water was just starting to boil when I saw a cloudy residue. Quick! I thought. To the sink! We must rinse! 

After such a close call we got that water boiled (whew, I lead a rousing life), topped it with delicious pasta coverings, and the chewy-factor that typically accompanies a whole wheat pasta- even after boiling it to a near lifeless pulp- had vanished. I had the bowl inhaled in 5.2 seconds.

And to you who are sitting there saying to yourselves, “well, of course you rinse pasta before you boil it” I say, WHAT KIND OF FRIEND ARE YOU ANYWAY? You didn’t tell me these things as I’ve ranted about my failures as a pasta boiler. You even sat idle as I recapped my lost arguments with husband over the virtue of whole wheat pasta over the white. Shame. Shame on you for keeping me in my ignorant state.

As for me, it’s time to make a vat of spaghetti. When you’ve got a skill, flaunt it- right?

Every time I change the sheets in H’s crib, I find an impressive display of long-launched binkies below the mattress.We keep a rotation of 3 different binks in special hiding places so that in the middle of the night, if one goes astray, we have a go-to backup. After we’re down to zero, the cleanup must resume and the clock restarts. This morning as I was re-sheeting I wondered if H actually attempts to challenge my bink-radar by stuffing them away as a trinket prize. The kid loves to give a round of applause for a job well done.

I’ve been feeling a bit as if H and God have been ganging up in this regard. Not so much in the details of where to hide a binky, but as if it can be a game… “what will she do now? How will she react?” I can’t speak for the developmental stages of deities, but I’m positive all toddlers eventually give it a go.

In this, I’ve been attempting to practice my patience-exemplifying skills, but I’ve come to the realization that I’m much too selfish for that. However, this morning at Journey we asked the question that God could be asking us… “what do you want?” (or, “what are you looking for?” depending on translation). The discussion walked the path of knowing that Jesus didn’t necessarily come to solve the problems of the general population in the ways they looked for it: overthrowing the Roman government, restoring the nation as it was in the “good ol’ days”, etc etc.

Honestly, I had a tough time even getting to the question. I realized that in our consumerist society, we’re constantly being asked that question and then sold a product that will supposedly quench the thirst. Hungry much? Eat a snickers. Want to look nicer? Buy these clothes. Sex appeal? Try this cologne/cigarette/beer/car. We’re bombarded with solutions to our problems.

On this eve of husband quite likely loosing his job I realize that I don’t want a solution. I don’t want someone to sell me a problem-solver. Because come again next month, or year, he’ll be looking for employment again. I’m simply not interested in a god that only deals in immediate gratification, the way that he has be sold in the past.

I can legitimize all the offered consolation prize remarks: at least we both have our PT role where I work (and can make far more money); he can sub; at least we’re not pregnant; it was an awful situation to begin with, so this is kind of like freedom… but if I’m honest, there’s a part of me (probably located in my thighs, where all bitterness resides) that thinks, “yeah, but these things are typically spoken by people who have had health insurance for longer than 3 months at a time.” People who know the amount in their paychecks from week to week.

I don’t need a solution-god to find immediate employment and I don’t want cliche remembrances of how good we really do have it, even if we are fortunate in our misfortune. What I need is the woman who hugs me as I cry in church. The friends who show frustration on our behalf. I want to be disappointed without fear of coloring God unfaithful. I want to feel validated that no matter how great the opportunity that could lie ahead, it sucks monkey balls to be cast out of your current situation. Even when the students are a nightmare and the admin is a trainwreck, something still hurts deep inside to see a good man work extremely hard to do a thankless job and still not catch a break.

If I were following Jesus down that dusty path and he turned and asked, “what do you want?” I’m not sure I’d have an answer. I don’t want my husband to keep his job. I don’t even want or expect perfection for this life. I guess what I want is a bit of patience. Love. Nothing trite, but rather freedom to simply be and feel.