Happy Halloween!

One shot

Today The Boy's class went on a field trip to a pumpkin patch. I offered to chaperone whenever needed this year, and his teacher called me on Friday to ask if I could attend. It was a beautiful day here, and the mile walk with two classes of kindergartners was a welcome respite from my boring job.

(Let me interrupt my story here to say that I've decided to do both in my exit interview, if I do get to have one. I am going to lie about why I'm leaving, but I'll offer my money saving, time management suggestion as well.)

What fun it was to meet the children that The Boy talks about all the time. They are a sweet bunch of kids. It reminded me of why I loved teaching.

At one point when we were stopped, Daniel turned around and looked at me and The Boy. "Do you have any brothers?" he asked.

"No," replied The Boy. "IT'S JUST ME."

"You don't even have any sisters?"

"The Boy is an only child," I said.

"WOW!"

I don't know if that was good wow or bad wow, and I don't think The Boy gave it a second thought, but I did.

I'm most likely in the last half of my life, and lately I'm having a hard time coming to grips with the fact that I won't parent any more children.

Exit Strategy

I really don't like to quit anything. I'm uncomfortable with criticism and confrontation, so I've been agonizing over what to say if I leave my job.

Talk about putting the cart before the horse, eh?

I considered telling them that I am going back to school, which is something I've always wanted to do, but that isn't the truth right now.

The other thing I could offer up would be considered either constructive criticism or a suggestion that, in the long run, would save this company a lot of money.

On Thursday of last week, Lynn (head bookkeeper) brought me in a few time cards to total. I returned them to her in a matter of minutes. She came to me On Friday and told me what a good job I had done, and that she had double checked them just because that is the way she is. But, from now on, she wouldn't check them every time.

Is it her goal in life to try and make me feel incompetent?

The shop techs punch in and out of every job they work on, and use a new time card every day. There are five shop techs. Lynn spends a lot of time on time cards. Last week I saw her working on them for three days. Not nonstop, mind you, but almost.

If this company would outsource their payroll to a company that uses a computerized time clock, Lynn could do her job and mine by herself. Yes payroll companies charge a lot - the one I use charges 6% of gross payroll - but they do all the time computation, quarterlies, and year end reporting, plus all the human resource functions. It would free up a lot of time and eliminate this position they can't seem to keep filled.

Do I lie or offer up a suggestion?

I'm leaning towards lying.

I know. It's a cop out.

Sleepover

The Boy is invited to a sleepover birthday party next Friday.

In Kindergarten.

He was very excited when the party invitation said to bring a pillow and a sleeping bag. "Awesome!" he exclaimed.

I explained that it meant he would sleep at Daniel's house. That we would drop him off and them pick him up again in the morning after he woke up. He wants to go and I said dad and I would discuss it. I think it's absurd and MFH agreed with me. I know! I couldn't believe it either! I'm sure he just didn't want the phone ringing at midnight with an upset parent wanting us to come and get our child

Tonight when I put him to bed, I brought it up again. "When you go to Daniel's sleepover birthday party you need to realize that I won't be there for bedtime. You will go to sleep in Daniel's house with Daniel and his family, but not with mama and dad."

*Sniff* "I don't want to."

"It's okay," I said. "You can go to Daniel's for the party and before it's time to go to bed mom and dad will come to get you and bring you home."

I felt kind of mean waiting until bedtime to spring that whole idea on him, but it was perfect. How else was he going to realize just what it meant to have a sleepover party?

I really can't believe someone is having a sleepover party at this age. Can you? I can barely stand to leave him at his grandma's house, and I know that she loves him and will take care of him. How could I leave him to spend the night with a perfect stranger?

Keep it coming

I have an interview with burger corporate next Wednesday.

I expected to get an interview. The hard part is actually wowing them at the interview. I used to be a real cocky gal. Now? Not so much, and I can't quite figure out why. It could be the move and all the changes, but I am tired of blaming every bad day on that old news.

So keep the good vibes coming, please. Apparently it's working so far.

The Boy had his first hockey practice tonight. He started out a little shakey, but that was our fault. We couldn't find his skates, so he had to wear a new pair with that had just been sharpened. Usually we have them edged and then dull them a bit on a 2X4, but we just didn't have time tonight. Plus, they aren't broken in, so they were stiff and MFH couldn't get them laced tight enough. He quickly got his feet under him, though. Literally.

After practice we stopped to eat -practice is from 5:45 to 6:45 - WTF? Does anyone else think that's bad timing for 5 year olds? - and while we were waiting, The Boy said to me, "I was scared at first, but then I was okay."

He internalizes way too much. All he said to me was that he was excited to start hockey again.

What a kid. At his age I was so painfully shy that I never would have attempted half of what he's done.

I am so proud of him. But, I hope he does things because he wants to, and not because of our expectations.

Just stab me in the neck with a fork

So my big task for the day at work was to process nine Accounts Payable checks which amounted to somewhere around $20,000.

The head bookkeeper said to me, "Now be sure to ask if you have any questions. This is a bigger A/P run than just one or two checks."

I was already finished when she made that comment to me.

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

My A/P runs typically consist of 30 to 40 checks and amount to anywhere from 25 to 75 thousand dollars.

Each week.

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I applied for a job yesterday in the accounting office of that burger corporation where the head guy was adopted. And, I'm applying for a job with the school district.

Please send any and all good vibes my way.

PLEASE.

Broken Wings

There's a saying in the biker community - "It's not IF you go down, it's WHEN you go down."

If you go down and survive, you earn the 'broken wings'. It's a patch of the traditional eagle wings, only instead of being spread out wide, they are bent.

A lot of our friends have crashed.

Three have died as a result.

Fortunately, the numbers are in our favor.

MFH went down. He got hit by a car. I was right behind him, and because the teenaged driver panicked and tried to drive away, I was able to ride through the crash.

We were on the way to an Iron Horse Rodeo. There were about ten bikes riding in our group, MFH the lead bike. We approached a small town, a dot on the map really, and there was an intersection. The girl had to have seen us - she gunned it, trying to get across the road ahead of us. She hit MFH and proceeded to drive on. I rode through the intersection, looked back to see MFH laying on the ground and then I chased her down, and when she finally stopped I shouted, "Do you know what you just did back there? You HIT a motorcycle and you didn't even stop! You ran over my husband!" She just sat there and cried. I stood by the car until the police arrived.

I just could not believe that even at the tender age of seventeen she was not concerned enough to stop, with a man laying on the ground at her expense. Yes, I can understand being scared - but to leave the scene?

The bike was not totaled, but her car was. Can you imagine our disbelief when MFH asked for a new leather coat on the insurance claim and the adjuster said that could not be covered because it was not part of the bike?

How much does it cost for a skin graft? Without that coat, it would have been unimaginably worse.

That coat now bears the patch of broken wings.

The other day after my friend's funeral we gathered at the local watering hole to celebrate his life. He would have liked that. Dennis was 50 years old. 50 years young. But it occurred to me that we are at a point where we will start gathering for sad occasions more often than we will for happy ones, like weddings and the birth of children.

When the hell did that happen?

Dennis

We went back home to attend a funeral on Tuesday.

A friend, a craftsman, that helped remodel our kitchen a few years ago. Even though he didn't want to, even though he HATED doing counter tops, he did it for me.

A friend from back in the day when we didn't have The Boy and we spent more time on our bikes than anywhere else. We rode a lot of miles alongside this man.

He lost his life tragically, in an accident late at night, on his bike. The road curved and he didn't. Fortunately there were people on the scene, and fortunately he died instantly. I found that out at the funeral from his brother. Yes, I asked because it was important for me to know that he didn't lay there and suffer, knowing he was dying and waiting for it to happen.

His casket was decorated with the H.arley bar and shield, and several good friends hung guardian bells from the handles. The final line of his obituary read "Thank you, God, for allowing me to come to you doing the thing I loved most - riding my bike."

I thought it was nice that his family acknowledged his lifestyle, one that I know they did not wholly approve of.

Ride Free, Dennis.

You'll be missed.

Work Buddy

Most of the time when I am in my office working, this is where you'll find Boots. He started out hiding behind my calculator and quickly outgrew that space.

He was supposed to be The Boy's pet, but we all know that cats don't really "belong" to anyone. So, I suppose because I held him so much as a kitten, he has just come to prefer me to any of the other humans in the house.

Plus, I feed him.

The fact that we work together on the chair with him laying there like this in no way implies that my butt is small enough to take up only that space in front of the cat.

But my posture has improved immensely.

On potty training

Naturally, The Boy is potty trained. In fact, once we went to underwear at 2.5 years old, he didn't have even one accident - night or day. We always tell people that it had nothing to do with us - he did it all on his own. You all know you can't force a child to potty train.

I just wonder when he will wipe his own butt. Not that I mind, really. But I suspect that he won't go number two anywhere when he's not with one of us or his grandmas because of wiping his own butt. Every time he will ask me, "Is it clean?"

Like I'm going to leave his butt dirty.

I just hope that if he has to go at school, he isn't holding it until he can get home.

So up until a week ago, I was the one that was trained - not the pups. I ushered them out every so often and they would pee or poop on command, but invariably one of them would pee at some point in the house. We did progress from the carpet to the hardwood laminate in the dining area, so at least they were heading towards the door to outside. And, it's a lot easier to clean laminate than carpet!

Now they haven't had an accident in several days. Yeah! We can focus on the chewing, and what toys, furniture, clothing, etc. belongs to the people and not to the puppies.

Old Dog still holds the key to my heart - but I'm finding that I have room in there for these pups, too. I'm glad we got Boots, the kitten, first. He warmed me up to having a pet again.

In case you're wondering, they get along famously. It's very sweet.

Trained

Finally.

It was no easy feat house training two puppies at the same time. I remember it going much more quickly with Coal, but then we did have the older, wiser yellow dog to help with that. Coal followed Brandy around and easily got the hang of what was going on outside.

To give credit where credit is due, the puppies are just thirteen weeks old today. The Boy is nearly five and a half years old, and I'm still wiping his butt for him.

And he's capable of rationalization.

A day late

The day the O.zzy tickets went on sale, I skipped going to purchase tickets with my wristband. "After all," I said, "we have our seats. Great seats I might add!"

MFH did go, only to leave again when they announced the first number in line, and he was somewhere around number 75.

MFH wanted to get some for resale.

See, I never think that way. I'm the one that's worried we'll end up with all these tickets and not be able to get rid of them.

It's O.ZZY, MFH insisted. That will never happen.

I played around on the ticket website that day and had the opportunity to get some great seats at $70 each, but didn't.

The concert sold out quickly. Yes, even the $999 seats were gone. Now the tickets are selling like hotcakes on e.bay and we could have easily tripled our money. I'm whining over the lost opportunity, and MFH says, "So what? We have our tickets!"

When did he turn into me?

Time

Not enough of it to blog or to read blogs. (although I do check in on all of you most days, if only briefly)

Too much of it spent working.

That's okay, though. It's been going well at the new job, particularly since MFH said this to me - "Just go in everyday knowing that you don't have to be there. You can quit at any time."

The best benefit of my new job begins tomorrow, after only one week on the job.

I hired out my house cleaning!

Yippee!

Working

instead of blogging.

I don't know how people work multiple jobs. It reminds me of when I was in college and working. I am so glad to be home in the afternoon when The Boy gets home, though.

I don't know what to do about hockey player. I just don't like him.

I just don't like him.

It's not just any one thing, it's the whole enchilada.

I find myself hoping he gets cut from the team so he has to go home to Canada.

If not? It will be a long six months.

ZZZZZzzzzzzzzz

Sometime in the past two days, the person who hired me and who is my immediate supervisor, totally forgot that not only am I capable of doing my job, I could probably do her job as well.

Or, maybe she is very well aware of it. Too aware.

I really hoped the I could do this. I wanted to be able to go to work and not be challenged.

It ain't looking good.

One reason to work outside the home would be to form friendships. My supervisor is far from the most popular employee, and I fear I am going to be lumped with her in that category since I work closely with her.

I met the owner today, and he told me that he knows she is set in her ways. He hopes I will work out as he'd like to see me take on more responsibility. He knows that I am overqualified for this position.

I told him I appreciate all that, and only time will tell if I am going to be able to take this huge step backwards.

All of a sudden I am very thankful for the 180 day probationary period.

Bad boys, bad boys.....

The boys had their first home hockey game of the season Saturday night.

They got their first home win of the season.

They had their first party of the season.

They got caught.

At the meeting we went to a few weeks ago, the team owner stressed following the rules this year. This team is one of the few that is performing random drug testing with a zero tolerance policy. Very admirable, I thought, but will they adhere to the policy? I've heard it all before, blah blah blah and all caution is thrown to the wind with a winning team.

Still, the boys pushed the envelope.

Seven team members will be suiting up for the game on this Friday.

Our player is one of them.

I will say, I was pleasantly surprised.