My maternity leave is rapidly coming to an end. For the past three months, I've been working one day a week, a combination of in the office and from home. Little Darth, being fairly portable, came with me to the office. Today, I'll do a "dry run". I'll get up in time to shower, get myself ready, feed the baby, get him ready, and try to leave the house by 8 am.
I may have to get up at 3 am.
It's not really "back to work" yet. I'll be in the office a few hours today with Little Darth at my side, then "officially" back three days this week and three days next week, returning full-time after the MLK holiday.
All in an attempt to ease DH into having both The Manimal and Little Darth home all day. I'm not worried, though. He's a great dad, and will have the little guy on a great schedule in no time. The Tweenager returns to school today and preschool for The Manimal starts in two weeks.
I'm not really sad to be returning to work. I love what I do and the folks at Diva University are fabulous. But seriously? Who wouldn't miss this little coworker?
Labor Day has become one of those holidays that nobody really understands. Frankly, I don't think I was ever really TAUGHT the origins or history of the holiday. For most Americans, it's simply become a date that marks the symbolic end of summer, the time to close up summer homes, close down swimming pools, and pack the white shoes away for the winter.
I guess it's good that we have a long weekend to allow us to do all that, even though for those of us in the midwest, we're as likely to have an 85 degree day throughout September as we are to have 60 and 70 degree days.
Kids get a day off school, parents get a day off work. The federal government shuts down and the US Postal Service doesn't deliver or pick up mail.
I suppose if I'd grown up in a union family, I may have a better appreciation for the meaning of the holiday, but then again, who knows.
Clearly they're still not teaching kids the reason for the school holiday.
Yesterday The Tweenager asked if he had to empty the dishwasher on Monday, since it was Labor Day and nobody had to work.
Diva Nana told him "Sure! But then your mom doesn't have to work at all either. No cooking, no laundry, no cleaning."
This is the time of year for graduation ceremonies, and here at Diva U., we'll celebrate our grads this weekend. While planning the logistical part of the ceremonies is my job now, in a former lifetime, my involvement in graduation ceremonies was limited to music.
As in conducting it.
As a high school band director, it was my responsibility to corral the bandos and conduct them in the prelude and ceremonial music. The prelude music was pretty basic. Whatever we'd performed that year at our concerts was fair game. The ceremony music was fairly straightforward as well: play the Alma Mater and processional/recessional music.
In other words, "Pomp & Circumstance", more specifically, March No. 1 of Sir Edward Elgar's "Pomp & Circumstance".
For those of you who don't know this song by its name (because seriously, you DO know this song), allow me to virtually hum a few bars...
The most famous part of this march is the Trio section, which is about 2 minutes into the recording above.
When I was a band director, my kids would soldier through innumerable repetitions of this piece. One spring, after we'd practiced about forty-eleven thousand times, I had a brainstorm.
I ran a lyrics contest for Mr. Elgar's music. Now, before my fellow music educators get all over me, yes, I do know that there are lyrics. But seriously, after you've done forty-eleven thousand run-throughs, you're lucky if the lyrics in your head are even fit for mixed company, if you know what I mean.
So I ran a contest for the best lyrics to good old P & C. The only stipulation was that they had to be "clean". It was a family show, after all. The winner was a French horn player with an incredibly creative mind. He passed away suddenly in January of 2009, but this was always one of my favorite memories of him, and I still have a copy of the original in his handwriting. He makes my Commencement duties a lot more fun every year.
And so, for all of you band directors, band kids, band parents or anyone out there who knows what it's like to play "Pomp & Circumstance" forty-eleven thousand times, I present:
Pomp & Circumstantial Evidence, by Jacob S.
Refrain:
I really hate this song. It goes on forever, And when you think you're done You have to start over!
Verse 1:
Why did somebody decide to Inflict this torture on innocent youth. Because if I find out who I swear to you, I'm gonna sue!
And to you who disagree, That this song destroys sanity, If you really think I'm wrong, Get down here and play along!
Refrain
Verse 2:
Now the low brass has melody I think I missed the last repeat, Please Miss B. let us end, No, it's back to the top again. Miss B. forgot to close her hand, and thus confused the entire band. Was that a fist or was that an "E"? We'll just play eternally.
Refrain
Verse 3:
I am quite sure that those folks for whom this song always invokes, Feelings of nostalgia Never had to play this stuff. I think I'm a measure behind Why, Drummer, keep time This is criminal Miss B. It's called "cruelty to minors".
Refrain
Verse 4:
Graduates keep filing endlessly. I think the flutes are in the wrong key. Who played that sour note? It was me! Can't we stop I have to pee! I REALLY HATE THIS SONG It's much too repetitive, much too long. And if given half a chance I'd burn my "Pomp & Circumstance"!
Yes, I'm still alive. Turns out, growing a baby takes WAY more energy than I remember! Or maybe it was the week I spent in Kentucky for a conference for work. Or perhaps the fact that work is insanely busy during March and April. At any rate, I'm exhausted more often than not, and when I'm not, I'm probably working!
Sweet Son #1 has a new name. Starting today, he'll be known to the interwebz as The Tweenager. While he will always be my Sweet Son #1, I felt it time to give him a name more appropriate to his stage in life. He'll be 10 this summer, and has already begun the behavioral leap into his pre-teen years.
Speaking of The Tweenager, he has spent the past week with Diva Nana and Diva Papa. It was a huge surprise trip for him, as my folks were here for Easter, then we packed his suitcase and told him Monday morning that he was riding back with them. He's had a blast and flies back tomorrow, wrapping up his spring break with a birthday party tomorrow night and the Cub Scout Pinewood Derby on Sunday afternoon.
The Manimal has been spending his brother-less Spring Break week (who knew that preschoolers got a Spring Break?!) playing Lego Star Wars on the Wii, playing with real legos with Daddy, going to the park, torturing Princess the Wonder Dog and wreaking general havoc whenever he feels his home life is going too smoothly.
The Manimal is also fascinated with the fact that Mommy is "gonna poop out a baby". This was the conclusion he reached after I explained that the baby wasn't coming out my mouth or my belly button, and the doctor wasn't going to cut me to get it out (hopefully!). He looked at me with those big brown eyes and after a moment said "You gonna POOP dat baby out?!"
Uhm. Well. Yeah, sort of.
So that's my life in a nutshell. And how've you been? :)
Today is my LAST day of work for a whole week. I don't have to come back until DECEMBER 1st! :)
DH and I were watching Letterman last night. Dave's not been really funny in quite a long time, but for some reason, we keep coming back. So we've come up with this new game. Lately his three favorite topics have been Bernie Madoff, Sarah Palin and Paul Shaffer's new book. He's bound to mention at least one of them, and if he mentions all three, we figure he's hit the Late Night Trifecta.
Two nights ago, it was all Sarah, all night.
Last night, twelve minutes into the show, he brought up Sarah Palin.
Eight minutes later, he was pushing Paul's book. We waited with baited breath, hoping he'd be batting a thousand.
Sadly, we only went two for three last night. No Bernie.
The Manimal was "eckercising" last night. He was using a drawer handle (that DH had purchased) as a barbell, and pretending to "lift weights". Now, just to be clear, this is the SAME drawer handle that he has been told multiple times NOT to touch. I told him to go show his father, that daddy would LOVE it.
He walked into Daddy's office, grunting and straining as though he were a champion lifter. DH told him to go put the drawer handle away RIGHT NOW.
The Manimal walked by me quickly, handle in hand and muttered, "He didn't love it."
"Twilight New Moon" premiered last night (or more accurately, this morning). I didn't see it. I won't see it. I haven't read the books. I have no intention of reading the books. Bella, Edward and Jacob really have no appeal to me.
I took today off work. Which is probably a good thing since I have to work an event tomorrow from 7 am-1 pm and then will be headed to our Haiti Banquet (Which doesn't begin until 6, but like most events, I can't just GO and be a guest. I have to get myself involved in the PLANNING. I'm crazy that way.), so say a prayer that the MORE THAN 200 GUESTS will have a great time and loads of money will be raised for our Haitian brothers and sisters!
Diva Husband, the only one of our little family of four who chose not to receive the flu vaccine, has the flu. I'm not, however, going to rub it in his face, out of sheer terror that the strain against which I was vaccinated is not the strain which he has contracted.
I'm leaving in four days for a conference in Grand Rapids, MI. My sheer joy at being off work for three days is only topped by the fact that I'm then driving home to the Buckeye State BY MYSELF to go to Homecoming at the best university in the world. Did I mention that I'll be in Ohio for three days BY MYSELF. As in SANS CHILDREN AND HUSBAND? And I'll get to go to Oxford and eat toasted rolls and greasy pizza? Diva Nana (and maybe Diva Papa) will be traveling down with me to share in the joy that is a quintessential college town in the fall.
But my children and husband?
NOT!
I've decided to put out an all points bulletin for early Autumn. Clearly she's been snatched away and we've gone right past October and into late November weather.
Our dining room ceiling is leaking. More accurately, I suppose, it's actually our master bathroom floor. Either way, it's not good. And it's wet.
SS#1 is having his school pictures taken on Wednesday. I leave REALLY EARLY Wednesday morning. No way in Hades am I leaving the outfit up to him. We'll be having a practice dressing session.
Did I mention that I'm going to be away from home BY MYSELF for six whole days? Of course, I'll probably miss the boys (big and little) and have to talk to them every night. I'll probably end up sleeping on the edge of the bed, just because that's where I usually end up.
Maybe the hotel will hire a couple of local school kids to bang on my door to wake me up in the morning?
I was chastised this weekend by Diva Nana. Yes, 40 years old and Mom can still scold me!
Apparently, she enjoys reading my blog. Daily. Which means that this nearly two-week hiatus has been less than enjoyable.
To be fair, I'm the same way with my favorite blogs. I love it when I visit and there's a new post! So Diva Nana? This one's for you!
I need a new alarm clock.
I typically get out of bed between 6:30 and 7. My alarm clock had been generally reliable, not terribly annoying, and easy on batteries and electricity. The snooze button would usually work for about 10 minutes, but then it would force me out of bed, which was a good thing.
Last week my alarm clock failed me. I woke up in a panic at 7:40, jumped in the shower and ran out the door with my hair still half damp.
My alarm clock went off just as I was leaving the house.
I'm not opposed to buying a new alarm clock, but mine is only 3 years old. Several of my friends have had similar models. I myself had a similar one that quit working about 6 years ago. I keep it around for sentimental reasons, but it's completely unreliable for regular use.
I'm a bit bummed. I mean, would you rather have this alarm clock? Or one of these?
Like so many others, our family's been impacted greatly by a depressed economy. The Diva Husband's company closed in December and being in retail management your whole working life does not bode well for the current job market. With many folks going back to school (in lieu of being able to go back to work), my position is relatively stable.
Of course, this means, like so many others, frugal living is in the forefront of our minds.
I was listening to NPR yesterday on my frugal search to find a burning bush plant and a reasonably priced belt for Sweet Son #1. They were discussing the January/February 2009 issue of Elite Traveler Magazine.
Now, before I go any further, I feel some background info is necessary.
Prior to yesterday afternoon, I'd never heard of Elite Traveler. This is most likely because, even when my husband and I were BOTH employed, our income was a drop in the proverbial bucket, compared to the "private jet" target audience of Elite Traveler.
The average household income (that would be the "mean" income for all you statistics buffs) of the readers of Elite Traveler is $5.3 million.
Five point three million dollars per year.
We don't come anywhere near the "point three" part.
But I digress.
The focus of the story was the letter that Elite Traveler's President and Editor-in-Chief Doug Gollan writes for each issue. More specifically, the letter that he wrote for the January/February issue. With the economy in such a slump, apparently the ultra-wealthy have felt chastised by the mainstream media for continuing to spend, apparently frivolously.
Gollan writes:
"It's only excessive if you can't afford it. At least that's my belief. As we enter 2009, it's amazing how the general media has tried to shame wealthy individuals into not spending. The fact of the matter is that the economic slump was not caused by the wealthy; it was caused by aspirational consumers who took out bigger mortgages than they could handle, leased cars that they couldn't afford and took vacations that they shouldn't have."
In my business, I know that perception is everything. It doesn't matter if you're a budget conscious event planner or a budget conscious mom. Planning a successful meal often means getting the most "bang for your buck", so to speak. The special event and hospitality industries have seen a major downturn with the depressed economy as people look for ways to save money.
Good for the budget. Bad for the industry.
So why in the world should anyone feel that they have the right to chastise the ultra-wealthy for spending their own money on perceived luxury? Don't get me wrong. Part of me wants to say that there are far better ways to spend that money. Charities could use it. Churches could use it. Schools could use it. I know of a little village on the southern peninsula of Haiti that would be blessed with even a small portion of that money.
That being said, Gollan makes a very good point. One that is often overlooked. When those ultra-wealthy plan big parties, they rent properties. Hire caterers, decorators, florists, entertainers. And all of those people hire people.
Still don't get it?
Substitute "pay" for "hire".
Gollan says "according to the (New York Magazine), spending by the top 1% of earners in the Big Apple supports 153,000 service jobs and 50,000 government employees.
That's a lot of people and a lot of pay.
I say more power to them. They can have their champagne and caviar, and I'll plan them the party of the century. Then maybe in a few years I'll be able to afford a few more niceties of my own.
I've said it before and I'll say it again. April is the cruelest month. At Diva U., though, it's followed a close second by May. We are so busy at work during those two months, that there are many times I feel I may go crazy.
Oh wait! I've already been there!
Anyway, let me just share my next few weeks with you...
5/4-5/7: Regular 8-5 days
5/8: Off (yay!) because...
5/9: Work all day
5/11-5/12: Regular 8-5 days
5/13-5/15: In Louisville ("Louahvll"), KY for a conference planning meeting. Yes, I'm driving the approximately 300 miles, but honestly, I don't mind driving. AND I'm doing it in a nice shiny rental car. AND I get to stay BY MYSELF in a b-e-a-utiful (quick, what movie is that from?!) hotel room for two.whole.nights. The planning meeting is being held at the site of our 2010 Annual Conference, The Galt House.
5/16-5/17: Commencement Exercises here at Diva U. Work both days. All day.
5/18-5/20: Regular 8-5 days
5/21-5/26: Annual Memorial Day trip with SS#1, The Manimal and Diva Nana to see Diva Grande Dame (my Grams) in the Great North Woods.
All I can say is that it's a good thing I have some down time in there! Because otherwise, my brain might explode!
It's Tuesday and I feel as though my brain has been hit by a Mack truck. T.S. Eliot may have been referring to the unpredictability of spring weather when he said it, but in the world of higher education events, April really IS the cruelest month.
Our work calendar for the next three weeks has so many meetings and events on it, that your eyeballs would probably bleed if I showed it to you.
Since I don't have the space or time to schedule a nervous breakdown, I look for other ways to escape.
Thanks to my friend K. for this little escape into the wonderful world of musical theatre bliss...
I was riding in a car from Chicago to Indianapolis for a work event when I heard what happened. Because our event would feature the talents of hundreds of high school-aged musicians, we were especially shaken.
What if the same thing had happened, not in Colorado, but in one of the schools that would perform throughout the weekend?
And then there were the kids. They were thinking the same thing. What if? What if the shooters were students at their own schools? What if their friends had died? What if....?
And yet, that Colorado high school moved on. The kids from the school rebounded, as kids do. They moved on, and graduated. Got jobs and went to college. Had relationships, got married, stayed single.
Lived their lives.
Today, take just a moment to pray. Remember the kids, those who lived and those who died. Remember the community. Remember the two shooters who, in a matter of minutes, changed the world forever.
But most of all, remember the life. Like the flower for which the community is named, the school came through the adversity of a long, cold winter.
Seems like everyone I know, used to know, or want to know is on Facebook.
My mother is on Facebook. My pastor is on Facebook. One of my favorite college professors is on Facebook. My college friends, high school friends, even some of my grammar school friends are on Facebook. Former colleagues, current colleagues, they're all there.
It's a bit overwhelming, really. I'm the type of person who compartmentalizes my relationships in my head. I have a section for family, which has grown to "his" and "hers" since I got married. I have a section for my current coworkers, a section previous coworkers, a section for my college friends...you get the idea.
Since I've been on Facebook, those sections have overlapped. I discovered that one of my students from my teaching days (12 years ago, in Ohio) is good friends with one of my former graduate assistants here at Diva U. I also discovered that my neighbors graduated from the same undergraduate institution as my brother (again, in Ohio), only a few years apart. AND those same neighbors are good friends with a fellow colleague here at Diva U. and a friend who now works in Cincinnati. Weird, huh?
I knew I was in too deep, though, when I recommended a friend to a former student of mine who'd gone on to study at my alma mater. Both were Miami Grads, but from different eras. My former student responded to me with "Do I know this guy?"
All because my friends insist on overlapping in my brain.
On a related note, Facebook helped me discover that a former co-worker also counts herself among the ranks of "mommy bloggers". I'd forgotten (since it's been more than TEN YEARS since we worked together!) how very funny she is, both in person and in print. Go check her out and give some bloggy love. She is Sandwiched between Chiquita, Mr. Hoagie and her little ones.
One of the things that irritates me to no end is when people find it necessary to state the very obvious. Such statements make me wonder why the person feels it so important to contribute to a conversation when it's clear that EVERYONE involved is already aware of what they are about to say.
"Wow. He's really tall." is pretty much an irrelevant statement when the person in question ascends 6'8" straight up.
"These gas prices are ridiculous!" Of course they are. When gas in the USA approaches $5/gallon, the only happy people are the oil executives.
"It's SO hot outside!" Uhm...yeah. It's July. It's SUPPOSED to be hot.
Well, today I claim the title of Captain Obvious. But I feel justified. Because, blogland, this is what I saw on the electronic sign coming onto the campus of Diva U. this morning:
8:27 AM
0 degrees
Here it is.
Wait for it.
It's COLD. And for you Canadians, that would be Fahrenheit. Now I realize that may be a heat wave for some of you. But for us Third Coast residents in December? It's just not supposed to be that cold.
And snow. We have it. And frankly, from the looks of the thermometers, it's not going anywhere. We are, barring any sort of immediate global warming situation, going to have a white Christmas.
But back to stating the obvious.
It's cold. I may have to look for jobs further south. Like Jamaica. Or at least Texas! :)
Trying desperately to warm up my blue-tinged fingers...
Well, I survived the big weekend at Diva U. I've been there for almost 10 years, and this is my 19th Commencement Weekend. My feet are killing me...
But I must've really been good this year, because when I got home yesterday, my Secret Santa had dropped off an early Christmas package! I participated in Georgie and Amy's Secret Santa Soiree this year, and had a blast putting together my package to send off.
While I'm not positive who had my name, I've got a sneaky suspicion because of the return address. :) Whoever was my Secret Santa did a great job!
When I opened the box, I found these fabulous gift bags...
And when I opened the gift bags, I found these cool metal star ornaments, soy candle and beautiful handmade scarf...
and these fun fuzzy pink socks, Lindor Truffles and tasty (if you're a dog) Heart Treats (see below)...
And if those weren't sweet enough, Secret Santa included gifts for The Manimal and Sweet Son #1...and Princess Poopy Puppy received a gift from the Pug Princes!
I'd've taken a picture of Princess and her Heart Shaped Liver treats, but she devours them so quickly, there was no point! :)
There were a few other wonderful little gifts, like Burt's Bees Lip Balm, fun snowman tissues, Starbuck's Gift Cards (woo-hoo!), and some tasty Buckeye candies, which, sadly, Diva Husband enjoyed all too well. My Secret Santa even thought to get me candy from my home state! :) How cool is that?!
So, Secret Santa, whomever you are, thank you SO much! And Georgie and Amy, count me in for next year! For the rest of you, make sure YOU'RE on the nice list so Santa's good to you too! :)
Stay tuned tomorrow for The Manimal's Christmas Wish. It's gonna be some good clean (well, maybe not clean) fun!
Other than part-time jobs, I've always worked for educational organizations, so my adult schedule seems to have focused on a school year calendar. Consequently, August always brings with it a sentimental feeling. The summer is ending and the school year beginning. Today as I dropped off SS#1 at day camp, I recalled six amazing summers of my own.
I did my fair share of camping as a kid. Girl scout camps, church camps, pop-up trailer camping with the fam. You name it, we did it. I have some really wonderful memories of being a camper.
None of those memories, however, compare with the six summers I spent as camp counselor. In 1989, one of my college friends introduced me to Culver Summer Camps. She had attended as a camper and was working as a counselor. She encouraged me to apply for a counselor position.
If you're not familiar with Culver, it is a renowned Military Academy and Girls Academy during the academic year, and a fabulous 6 week summer camp during the "off season".
My parents could never have afforded to send me to camp there, but for six blissful summers, I lived vicariously through my campers. Even though I was in college and teaching when I was there, for six weeks, I was a kid again, with no worries except to have fun. It was not as much work, as work disguised as fun.
I'd post my "to-do" list, but it might scare you away. So before I hunker down and tackle the thing, I thought I'd procrastinate just a bit more.
Tomorrow, SS#1 leaves on his Texas adventure. He is, unfortunately, flying an airline which shall not be named, but has, at some point in their advertising past, claimed to be "something special in the air." Not.
Just for the record, two other airlines, one of which rhymes with "Melta" and the other (sadly) associated with Gershwin's "Rhapsody in Blue", also charge exhorbitant fees for unaccompanied minors.
At any rate, he's headed to the Lone Star State tomorrow (and is very excited about it), then The Manimal and I are leaving (obscenely early) on Saturday on an 11 hour road trip to the Peachtree State to stay with my BFF, The Music Man, Firecracker Princess, CCM and The Look-Alike for a blissful week of no working.
Of course, bliss like this never comes without a price. So today, I have a ton of stuff to accomplish, and I'm not sure when we'll chat again. While I'm losing my mind, check out some of my favorite blogosphere friends.
I am thankful for...the rapidly approaching end of the summer conference season.
From the kitchen...Last night I made my grandmother's pastie recipe, but used phyllo dough instead of pie crust. Not bad, and SS#1 loved it!
I am wearing...black trousers and blouse with some simple, pretty new earrings.
I am reading...some scripture, some other stuff.
I am hoping...that The Manimal travels well this weekend.
I am hearing...traffic buzzing by.
Around the house...all of the pre-trip prep...laundry, cleaning, cooking so the Diva Husband doesn't starve.
One of my favorite things...the feeling you get when you're all caught up with work and home. Not that I've had that feeling lately...
A Few Plans For The Rest Of The Week...pre-trip prep, New Life for Haiti planning meeting on Wednesday. Drop SS#1 off at the airport on Friday (heading BY HIMSELF to visit family in Texas).
And when I opened the gift bags, I found these cool metal star ornaments, soy candle and beautiful handmade scarf...
and these fun fuzzy pink socks, Lindor Truffles and tasty (if you're a dog) Heart Treats (see below)...
And if those weren't sweet enough, Secret Santa included gifts for The Manimal and Sweet Son #1...and Princess Poopy Puppy received a gift from the Pug Princes!
I'd've taken a picture of Princess and her Heart Shaped Liver treats, but she devours them so quickly, there was no point! :)
