There she goes

Josie is on the move. Crawlin’, creepin’ and causing trouble for the kitties. She’s energized, but we’re exhausted!

Like wearing a new outfit

I love to stare at my new blog! It’s so pretty. As you may have read on Josie’s original blog, I am moving her chronicles here since they pretty much slept over all the time anyway and already had a toothbrush in my medicine cabinet. Let’s hope that with the diminished pressure of maintaining two blogs — I overcome my procrastination tendencies and let you peek into our life a bit more often.

Ben and Jerry’s is my severance package

First, I was optimistic about being laid off. Yes, I really was. I thought that this was a sign from the universe that there was something new out there for me. Although I couldn’t be happier with my work and co-workers (who have since day one treated me as a member of an extended family), the one hour commute each way along with a naive trust in my previous ability to land great jobs in just a couple months of searching clouded my vision. In fact, the very week that the announcement came there were two job postings that fed this delusion.

This is not to say that I wasn’t shell-shocked and disappointed too. We just moved into a brand new space that cost taxpayers nearly a quarter of a million dollars. And if I were sending my daughter to a developing nation for two years, I certainly would feel better if I knew there was at least an office within driving distance solely dedicated to volunteers. Downsizing to keep costs low is supposed to happen primarily in the private sector. Since when did federal agencies become so concerned about the bottom line?

I likened the “merger” or lay offs, as it should’ve been called, to getting dumped. Headquarters was just not that into us. They felt guilty. They wished they could be with us in the way we wanted them to, but it’s not working out. Like in many relationships, it seemed to come out of nowhere. It never does. Rumors of a merger would resurface and then recede every few years.

Like in a break-up, there was denial. Maybe they’ll reconsider? Then anger. How dare they! Our friends in other regional offices felt awkward not knowing what to say. We wallowed. I was due for a hefty annual raise and instead of joy, it made me depressed. I then rebounded with one of those two job propspects I mentioned. One didn’t seem quite right, but I landed a phone interview and then a second one face-to-face. It was a private, large “company” not an “institution” or “nonprofit” where I have spent most of my career. However, it fit my new criteria; creative/rewarding/challenging, offered work life balance, and a shorter commute.

I walked in and the minute I sat down across the table from the woman who would be my boss, I was ready to get up from my chair to leave. She would not make small talk with me. My impression was that she had sacrificed several interns to the corporate gods during her rise into middle management.  She asked me to describe myself. My answer wasn’t nearly as polished as her designer stilettos. Realizing this, I admitted that I was going through a layoff. Just like a date with someone on a rebound — they spend the dinner talking about their ex.

She nodded as if in agreement that I could’ve answered her question better. “Yes, I see from your resume that you’ve only worked in humanitarian focused organizations. And now you want to switch? I’m curious why. Because honestly, it is kind of a red flag. I mean, I have friends who tried to go from nonprofit to corporate and hated it.”

“Yeah, okay. Thanks. Bye now.”

I didn’t really say this. I still tried to interview for this job that I could see disintegrating with each passing minute. A few more questions later, she took a phone call. It was apparently a very busy day in the corporate world. I said that I understood. Although, how could I possibly because everything is kum-by-yah and stress free in humanitartian organizations. She spent a lot of time telling me what it would be like to work under her. She asked if I knew PowerPoint. The ad said they wanted someone with a graduate degree and 5 -7 years marketing and communications experience. I should hope this person could use PowerPoint.

When I finally was able to leave “The Devil Wears Prada” boss wanna-be behind, I got mad. So damn angry that I had to be out looking for a job only a year later. I’ve gotten over that. Mostly…some days are hard. But what’s done is done. We’re closing. Okay, fine. It wasn’t meant to be. I still never heard from the other job. It would’ve been perfect. And every day the job boards are bare. Where’s my better fish in the sea? I’m out swimming and it’s just ocean.

I couldn’t have said it better

I’m sorry that I haven’t written in a while. Not to make you feel like a chump for asking, but my completly reasonable excuse is that we still can’t afford to buy a computer and I’m spending my free time at work applying for jobs so I don’t have to collect unemployment in January. Along this economic downtown note, few political candidates have irritated and frightened me more than Sarah Palin. My friend sent me this essay written by Eve Ensler and it is so well-written and motivating that I couldn’t help but pass it along and give it some more life on my tiny sliver of the Internet.

This article by Eve Ensler (creator of the Vagina Monologues) was originally published in the Huffington Post.

“I am having Sarah Palin nightmares. I dreamt last night that she was a member of a club where they rode snowmobiles and wore the claws of drowned and starved polar bears around their necks. I have a particular thing for Polar Bears. Maybe it’s their snowy whiteness or their bigness or the fact that they live in the arctic or that I have never seen one in person or touched one. Maybe it is the fact that they live so comfortably on ice. Whatever it is, I need the polar bears.

 

I don’t like raging at women. I am a Feminist and have spent my life trying to build community, help empower women and stop violence against them. It is hard to write about Sarah Palin. This is why the Sarah Palin choice was all the more insidious and cynical. The people who made this choice count on the goodness and solidarity of Feminists.

 

But everything Sarah Palin believes in and practices is antithetical to Feminism which for me is part of one story — connected to saving the earth, ending racism, empowering women, giving young girls options, opening our minds, deepening tolerance, and ending violence and war.

 

I believe that the McCain/Palin ticket is one of the most dangerous choices of my lifetime, and should this country chose those candidates the fall-out may be so great, the destruction so vast in so many areas that America may never recover. But what is equally disturbing is the impact that duo would have on the rest of the world. Unfortunately, this is not a joke. In my lifetime I have seen the clownish, the inept, the bizarre be elected to the presidency with regularity.

 

Sarah Palin does not believe in evolution. I take this as a metaphor.In her world and the world of Fundamentalists nothing changes or gets better or evolves. She does not believe in global warming. The melting of the arctic, the storms that are destroying our cities, the pollution and rise of cancers, are all part of God’s plan. She is fighting to take the polar bears off the endangered species list. The earth, in Palin’s view, is here to be taken and plundered. The wolves and the bears are here to be shot and plundered. The oil is here to be taken and plundered. Iraq is here to be taken and plundered. As she said herself of the Iraqi war, ‘It was a task from God.’

 

Sarah Palin does not believe in abortion. She does not believe women who are raped and incested and ripped open against their will should have a right to determine whether they have their rapist’s baby or not.

 

She obviously does not believe in sex education or birth control. I imagine her daughter was practicing abstinence and we know how many babies that makes.

 

Sarah Palin does not much believe in thinking. From what I gather she has tried to ban books from the library, has a tendency to dispense with people who think independently. She cannot tolerate an environment of ambiguity and difference. This is a woman who could and might very well be the next president of the United States. She would govern one of the most diverse populations on the earth.

 

Sarah believes in guns. She has her own custom Austrian hunting rifle. She has been known to kill 40 caribou at a clip. She has shot hundreds of wolves from the air.

 

Sarah believes in God. That is of course her right, her private right. But when God and Guns come together in the public sector, when war is declared in God’s name, when the rights of women are denied in his name, that is the end of separation of church and state and the undoing of everything America has ever tried to be.

 

I write to my sisters. I write because I believe we hold this election in our hands. This vote is a vote that will determine the future not just of the U.S., but of the planet. It will determine whether we create policies to save the earth or make it forever uninhabitable for humans. It will determine whether we move towards dialogue and diplomacy in the world or whether we escalate violence through invasion, undermining and attack. It will determine whether we go for oil, strip mining, coal burning or invest our money in alternatives that will free us from dependency and destruction. It will determine if money gets spent on education and healthcare or whether we build more and more methods of killing. It will determine whether America is a free open tolerant society or a closed place of fear, fundamentalism and aggression.

 

If the Polar Bears don’t move you to go and do everything in your power to get Obama elected then consider the chant that filled the hall after Palin spoke at the RNC, ‘Drill Drill Drill.’ I think of teeth when I think of drills. I think of rape. I think of destruction.

I think of domination. I think of military exercises that force mindless repetition, emptying the brain of analysis, doubt, ambiguity or dissent. I think of pain.

 

Do we want a future of drilling? More holes in the ozone, in the floor of the sea, more holes in our thinking, in the trust between nations and peoples, more holes in the fabric of this precious thing we call life?”

 

Technical difficulties (again)

We’d do a much better job updating this blog if our computer would quit crashing. Although, this time I believe it’s really dead. The hard drive is shot and the fan is even messed up. It lived a full life. Three years old is, I think, ancient for computers nowadays. It was a grad school graduation present from my Dad and Stepmom and built by his cousin. It will be missed, especially because there’s no way we can afford a replacement right now since we’d like to get a Mac.

Anyway, we had a STUPENDIOUS vacation with Ben’s family. First time Grammy and Grandpa had both their sons home together in two years! Josie just fell in love with her almost two-year-old cousin Henry (as did mom and dad). And I know the feeling is mutual. I jetskied for the first time hanging on with Ben’s daredevil turns and wave jumping. Then with me in the driver’s seat and Ben’s daredevil encouragement from the backseat to push that throttle. I’m glad I listened.

We took a family portrait (first in maybe two decades) that was part of a surprise present for Ben’s parents’ 40th wedding anniversary. We used the same photographer who did our wedding because she absolutely rocks!

This was also Josie’s baptism weekend with Godfather Uncle Sam. (Godmother Kelly sent her love and support from Indiana). Josie looked angelic in her white lace gown and seemed unphased by the new experience. As usual, she was most interested in jumping on mom’s lap, eating her fist and talking to the bright lights on the altar.

Whew…a memorable vacation! Our camera (so far) works great so while we may not post as often as we would like, keep checking out Josie’s photo gallery for updated pics.

Nightshift lullaby

Rock-a-bye baby
You woke up too soon

It’s 6 a.m.
and Daddy needs sleep

He worked until midnight
Mom is off to work

So, please lie down baby
One hour will do

She eats with a spoon!

Ah, life is back to its new normal. Not traveling has made my 9-5 grind seem like a piece of cake! I’ve even had plenty of relaxed time to teach Josie to eat rice cereal. This has been a whole new joy for her and I. Every feeding she gets less on her bib and more in her mouth. She likes to take the spoon and gnaw on it for awhile too. She does this right before she starts fussing to let me know she’s done eating. Just like the milk she drinks (tasted the formula. too creeped out to taste the breastmilk), it tastes horrible. But she loves it.

 

Right now I’m feeding her when I get home work and soon Ben will add a feeding in the morning. Then next month it’ll be time to try food like bananas and sweet potatoes. Those I’ve tried too. And they don’t taste horrible!

I overdid it

Did you know that I am NOT Supermom-wife-employee? Because I didn’t. I wish someone would have told me this before I tried to singlehandedly save (i.e. please) everyone in my world from inconvenience totally risking my health and what’s left of my sanity in the process. Whew.

Here’s what happened. Josie had a fever and congestion over Memorial Day weekend. That work week was pretty hectic as I prepared to leave for a weeklong conference. Not surprisingly I caught Josie’s bug by Friday. Her two-day bug walloped me for five. It started with a fever of 102-103 with white-stuff on my swollen tonsils. Saturday went to see Doc who said it’s not strep. Go home and rest. You’ll be well soon. “No antibiotics?” I asked. “No reason,” said Doc. Okay…if you say so.

Ben was super busy that weekend working and helping our neighbor. I tried parenting. I was supposed to be on my way to Ben’s parents for my trip the next day. Instead as Josie lay on her playmat on the floor, I sat crosslegged bundled in a heavy blanket. I dangled toy after toy in Josie’s line of vision. Once captivated I would doze until she fussed in boredom. By late afternoon my fever had actually spiked and my head was pounding. Not normal pounding. More like “something isn’t right” pounding.

To the emergency room we went. I was dehydrated. Still not strep. Not mono. Some vague, nasty virus. Did get antibiotics this time. I felt so much better that the next day I drove the three hours to Ben’s parents’ house and proceeded on my work trip only one day behind. What a good employee, wife and mother. See how I can do it all? Ben could proceed on painting the living room sans child. The Grandparents could see their girl and show her off to friends. I was eager meet my long-distance colleagues and didn’t want to be left out of the experience.

Only while literally running to the gate to catch my connecting flight that was scheduled to depart at that very minute, I wondered if I should’ve stayed in bed. I arrived to see the pilot in the cockpit. I banged on the window waving my boarding pass. There was another late passenger whose daughter was on the plane begging for them to open the doors. Likely thanks to her daughter, and not my frantic gesturing, did we both board the flight. I felt like shit from running. I said to myself that I would rest during this trip.

I didn’t rest. I had these weird night sweats for the first two days. I nearly lost my milk from not pumping enough. Gotta admit though, I did have fun on those nights out with my colleagues. Josie didn’t seem to miss me at all. She had a great time despite still being very congested, which sent her to the doctor upon my return. She was “the healthiest sick baby” the Doc saw all week at least. The living room is much improved.

Sigh. No, I’m not Supermom-wife-employee. Let the cape rest at the bottom of the pile of laundry on my closet floor. I’m changing my attitude. It’s always going to busy. Busier. Cliche time: It’s a marathon. Not a sprint. It’s going to be busy for a long time so no need to try to do it all. Slow down and enjoy the ride.

Thank you, grandparents.

From Ben:

Day 4 of the single life, and I’m in a better mood, despite having a “discussion” with my mom.

Josie is down at my folks’ house, while Kim is in DC and I’m at home, doing home improvements during the day and working at night. Kim says she’s feeling better and fighting through that illness. I feel things are starting to sew themselves up.

As for Grammy and Grampa, it’s been a long time since they took care of a baby. The last one with me, and that was 35 years ago. Things have changed since then, but all-and-all, my mom and dad are doing a great job. I think they have forgotten how exhausting it can be taking care of an infant. It’s ironic that it was my mom who told me that raising a child is tough. And now, it me reminding her of that very fact.

But Kim and I can’t thank them enough for what they are doing. I owe Josie’s grandparents (including Kim’s mom) the world. After all, Kim and I are trying to raise Josie the way we were raised. That’s a tall order, because they set a pretty high bar.

And as for that “discussion” we had earlier in the day? Well, I can relate. Sleep deprivation can do nasty things. I think the key for my parents to remember is to enjoy having their grandchild in their house. They need to relax and not put so much pressure on themselves to take care of Josie. Our daughter is a strong and vibrant little girl. She also shows signs of independence. Josie teaches me that everyday.

Well, the TV repair man show be arriving soon. Not that we needed the TV.

Missing my girls

From Ben:

It’s been more than two days, and I already miss my wife and daughter. Kim, who is battling a nasty virus, is struggling in D.C., while Josie is at Grammy and Grampa’s. I sure do miss them and worry about them.

I know Josie is in good hands, My folks have been there before. And Josie is such a good kid. She’s been rolling around and giggling a lot, according to Grammy Von. I guess Grampa John took Josie for a walk, and grammy said he had a “proud look” in his eyes.

It’s Kim I’m worried about. She’s had a fever since last Thursday and the antibiotics don’t seem to be working. She wakes up in a sweat, and she told me she’s struggling. I just wish it’s easier on her. She doesn’t deserve to be going through this. She’s so good with Josie, and she’s a great wife. She just needs to take it easy. I wish she were home — not that the house is in any condition.

Painting should be done by Friday night, and our new dishwasher should be installed, too. Also, we finally get our TV fixed tomorrow!!!!