Sick Day

October 28, 2005 | Category: Mother to the First Power

I was feeling a little punkish this morning, Scratchy throat, tired. Nothing major.

Bear crawled into bed with me, and I kept saying that we had to get ready for school.

After about 30 minutes of that, he finally touched my forehead and smiled.

"Mommy, I have a better idea. How about we stay home instead?"

"And what would we do?"

"Watch Scoobie Doo. And eat soup."

"Oh," I thought. And really, doesn't that sound good? "OK," I agreed.

He grinned.

(Just so you know, he DID make me icecube-jellybean-carrot soup for lunch.)

Unbehaving

October 25, 2005 | Category: Mother to the First Power

So for those of you keeping score at home, the 4 stitches are out and the lump was benign. Yay for benign.

A quick Bear story: The other day, Bear came home and told us one of his classmates, Elliot, had to sit with the teacher at lunch. When we asked Bear why, he responded; "Well, that's a long story. But what happened was, Elliot had his unbehaving on."

Continue reading "Unbehaving"

Letter to X

October 19, 2005 | Category: On The Job

One of the women who's looked to me as a mentor (yeah, I tried to warn her off and send her to someone more savvy but she stuck) was talking with me yesterday morning. She's going offshore for a few months, so it was probably our last talk for a while. She asked me for advice about a bunch of things, and it was too much for me. So I said I would send her an email.

Here it is.

Dear X,

The first piece of advice I ever give anyone is to believe in yourself. The corporate world will use you up and spit you out if you let it, and if you need to look outside yourself for approval then you will most certainly let it. Self-confidence will save your soul, and it is also the fastest path between you and the executive washroom.

If you don't have it? If a day is grey and you feel made of spun glass? Then fake it. Trust me on this one.

Never let anyone give you responsibility without the power to make it happen.

Your bosses may say - "Hey, build me a new bridge across the Hudson" and you feel so good at being given the opportunity that you shout "yes!". Now you're screwed because you've got a bright red pail, a shovel shaped like a mermaid, and a bag of popsicle sticks and a river to cross. Of course you'll fail, there's no way to win, and that failure will follow you.

Be smarter than that.

And on those occcasions when, despite demanding every good thing to succeed, you do fail (and it will happen), make sure that you left it all on the field. That you did your best. And then stand straight and own the mistake; let 'em know that the buck stops with you. And don't make excuses. Know the lessons the mistake taught you. Be able to explain what went wrong.

Remember as you climb up the ladder to remain what you already are - someone others can look up to.

The most powerful words in your arsenal are "Yes" and "No", so be sure you mean them before you say them and use them both sparingly. If you are not sure of something, then do not answer for sure. Qualify your answer.

For example: When a data center is wiped out by a hurricane and the Executives want to know if their payroll information can be restored immediately, you may want to say No. Because it looks impossible.

Do NOT say No.

Say "It looks impossible. It will take a helicopter rental, a qualified pilot, a kamikaze tech to ride along, some sled dogs, and a case of bottle water. But if we can get all that, I have a snorkel in my closet and I would be glad to ride along."

THAT is truth to power.

And speaking of the folks in power, remember that everyone you meet as you go up the food chain is there because they want to be, because they worked hard and long to be there. No magic bullet. No fairy godmother. And for the glamorous bits, like the travel and the input into the major decisions there is also the dark side. Like the time I had to lay off 40 people one Thanksgiving. There is no easy shortcut to the chair at the big table, and once you get there you will find it is still just a job. There are no villains, no heroes - just employees.

So keep it in perspective. Make sure there is life in your life. That you are whole and happy away from your desk.

And X, this is the most important piece of advice I can give you. Shamefully, I am going to crib from Polonius; To thine own self be true.

No matter what the corporate culture, or any examples around you, you stay honest to your humanity.

Respect yourself and your limits. Respect the people around you. Be kind. Laugh. Reach into your own pocket and buy the guys a dozen donuts once in a while. Never use whatever clout you have just because you can (not that you would, but we all get tested sometimes...) Protect those who help you along the way. Remember names. Ask questions. Listen to the answers. Challenge the information people give you until you are comfortable with it. Don't do anything that feels wrong inside.

Because there is no promotion high enough, no salary large enough, no perk cool enough that it is worth sacrificing your ability to look yourself in the mirror and like who you see.

Good luck.

Warning, Warning! Disengage Mouth

October 18, 2005 | Category: In My Life

Just when you think the world has evolved....

Guy: So what are you going to do? Do you have another job lined up?

Me: No. I'm hoping to pull together enough work to make Bear's tuition at a Montessori. Maybe a little more.

Guy: How?

Me: Writing, I hope. Maybe some technical writing.

Guy: Not full-time?

Me: No, no... Full-time taking care of Bear. When he's at school, stay at home stuff.

Guy: I give you 3 months, tops.

Me: What do you mean?

Guy: You're just not the type to sit around eating bon-bons, you know?

20 Random Things

October 17, 2005 | Category: In My Life

Joli at On a Bad Day I Wish I was 23 things tagged me with 20 Random things. Now, I rarely do these but....

1) I dream of being a Sous Chef, with a specialty in sauces.
2) The songs 'You're in my Heart' (Rod Stewart) and 'The Space Between' (Dave Matthews) always make me stop. And listen. And go somewhere else in my mind.
3) I am a radical believer in random acts of kindness and beauty.
4) When I watch my son sleep, it almost always makes me cry in wonder.
5) On Saturday, I had an excise biopsy of a small lump under my left arm. Now I have 4 ugly black stitches.
6) I don't have my Project Manager Professional certification - it became industry standard long after I got into the career. I'm on the fence about how I feel about that, and whether I should get it.
7) My favorite Sr. Vice President has a round face and a tragic combover and I have such a work crush on his mind.
8) I don't like Mondays.
9) Lilacs are blessings.
10) My favorite chef is my mom.
11) I used to be naturally very happy. I hope to be again.
12) The color of blue just after the sun has set. Mmmm.
13) I fantasize about having (ahem) relations in the cab of an 18-wheeler. (With CD, of course!)
14) Went on a long bike ride with Bear on Sunday. Want to do that alot more.
15) I am a free spirit.
16) When my boss asked me if I was staying at the job because I was hoping for some kind of salary bump to entice me to stay, I couldn't stop myself from laughing.
17) Some people never worry about being able to look themselves in the mirror. I don't understand that.
18) Every so often, I go vegetarian for a while.
19) I have no interior decorating skills. At all.
20) I believe that love, once given, lasts a lifetime - even if it just in memory.

OK, your turn!

Pardon My Dust

October 13, 2005 | Category: In My Life

OK, how is it that nobody noticed the circles? I mean, the seashore-y squares were replaced with BIG BRIGHT CIRCLES! This somehow escapes everyone? Or, wait, is it that the circles are so HEINOUS that noone can bear to look? Is that it? You can tell me the truth. I can take it. It's not like I just QUIT MY JOB or anything. I'm not fragile. Oh, no. Don't think of me, scouring Monster in tears in one browser window while I frenetically mutilate my blog template in the other. I mean, just a regular day here, so feel free to mention the circles.

Or not.

(*ahem* I seem to have thrashed my Individual Archive Template into an ugliness heretofore never envisioned by human eyes. If anyone has ANY idea how to fix it (*cough* forgot to make a copy of the good one)... well, I'm offering chocolate here. The good stuff.)

I'm in love, but he's dead

| Category: Well, That Was Random

Dagnabbit, Grace beat me to it. But I love her too dang much to feel cheated.

This obituary actually ran in Sunday's Trib (empahsis mine):

Theodore Roosevelt Heller

Theodore Roosevelt Heller, 88, loving father of Charles (Joann) Heller; dear brother of the late Sonya (the late Jack) Steinberg. Ted was discharged from the U.S. Army during WWII due to service related injuries, and then forced his way back into the Illinois National Guard insisting no one tells him when to serve his country. Graveside services Tuesday 11 a.m. at Waldheim Jewish Cemetery (Ziditshover section). In lieu of flowers, please send acerbic letters to Republicans.
Published in the Chicago Tribune on 10/10/2005.

When I die, I want an obituary like Mr. Heller's, you know? I'm so crushing on him. How could so few lines seem to capture so much life and spirit in someone who's gone?

There goes Elizabeth, loving mom to Bear, an amazing guy. She prayed globally, acted locally, dressed disasterously, cooked passably, served God however she found Her, and to the shame of her mother died in need of both a haircut and a manicure. In lieu of flowers, please drop pennies in fountains - to feed your dreams, as well those of the folks around you who need some spare change to get by.

How do you want to be remembered?

Push Me Pull Me

October 11, 2005 | Category: In My Life

There's one episode of the Simpsons, where Homer has all these baby pictures of Maggie up in his office, and you see the words "Do it for her".

I grok.

The good news was that there was a way to be home with my son and make enough to suport this family through the dark times. On the other hand, I have gained 50 pounds and aged 20 years since I went back to work. My mouth seems to relax into a frown. I rub my chest red trying to ease the tightness. And lately I have felt like a firecracker looking for a match. My patience is shot; my mood sour.

I've been dreaming, all these years. In the back of my tired mind. That one day things would be so much better, stronger, and in a rush of love and compassion, he'd get on a white charger and race to my rescue. Wrap me in his arms, and tell me everything was all right now. That I didn't have to carry it alone anymore.

And then, everything would be all right. Disney bluebirds would chirp in the mornings. And everytime my nose twitched, we'd win the lottery.

No, really.

My therapist said that I had to be my own hero. I guess I started today. When my boss and I got into it, she made some crack about my future career with Mega and I laughed. Next thing you know, I was telling her I was quitting my job.

Although I agreed to stay until they find my replacement.

Cue the frigging bluebirds.

And now for something completely different

October 10, 2005 | Category: Family, It's a Trip

October brings our annual trip to Bengston's Farm (warning! midi on site!).

Much warmer than last year. We skipped the pig races and concentrated on the important things: kettle corn, feeding carrots to baby llamas, and getting the perfect pumpkin for the evil mutant squirrels to demolish to decorate.

So we headed down the hill away to the field of pumpkins and let Bear loose. Off he ran. And ran. And ran. The boy inspected only eleventy bagazillion pumkins. If it was orange, he was considering it.

He found a big one after about 10 minutes that made him grin. We grinned back and thought ourselves lucky. No. No. No. The limpid pools of blue (so recently ill and sad) batted at us, pleading. Bat, bat. Plead, plead.

"Can I have two pumpkins this year? One big and one small?" Bat, bat, bat.

With a sigh, I nodded. CD clearly mouthed the word 'sucker' at me over Bear's head. Meanwhile, our son did his ricochet rabbit pumpkin hunting act for a solid 4 or 5 acres of pumkins.

Finally, a lovely smaller pumpkin was found. Clearly, it met some kind of secret Bear criteria. I nodded, tiredly, and we marched down the hill with it to join CD.

"Wait!" Bear pleaded as the tractor came to take us back up to the checkout. "There is THREE people in the family. We need THREE pumpkins!"

Seeing my weakness for my son's eyes, CD firmly jumped between us. Super-Dad! With hands on hips and a granite expression. "TWO Pumpkins is all we're getting!"

Yeah, we're such badass parents.

Although he seemed melancholy on the ride, it turned out he was just tired.

By the time we pulled out of the parking lot, Bear was out cold (and snoring just a little). His hand in mine in the backseat. A few minutes later, I was too. Happiness, blue skies, and pumpkin hunting turns out to be a recipe for a long nap.

And all I could think as I slipped into sleep is "this is how the days should be".

Things that bug you while listening to EZ Lite Crap Radio as you're stuck in traffic...

October 06, 2005 | Category: Well, That Was Random

OK, I get it. The dessert is a metaphor, right? Or an allegory? And the river that flowed, and now is dead - that's what? A lost love? Some kind of mushroom haze? Fine, fine.

But why not, in the name of all that is GOOD and HOLY, name the frigging horse?!

The Alamo

| Category: On The Job

My stomach turned sour as I picked up the phone. The hatchetman answered after one ring.

He asked about my son, as though he cared. He made a little smalltalk like we were friends. I swallowed back the bile.

The dust on my desk lays thick and I swirled my finger through it. Whenever he said anything that sounded like real words , I would grab my pen - the inkgel one that glides with thick black ink - and jot it down. "I don't want to put words in anyone's mouth," he said. "But I can speculate..."

I folded my paper, and carefully drew lines under each of his sounds bites as I captured them.

"Some stakeholders have voiced their feelings..." he said. I dutifully nodded, although he couldn't see me 1000 miles away. "Project needs to be successful..." he reminded me. I nodded again. I continued writing.

"The project is green," I reminded him. "So what is the problem?"

"No problem, we just want to accomodate the customer's concerns. Bring in a little management support over you. Someone to help direct your efforts. Provide you some cover..."

"Demote me," I translated. I have directed projects totalling nearly $100Million over the last few years. I can translate corporate doublespeak perfectly.

"No, not officially," he carefully responded. "In fact, this kind of flexibility is important in our assessments of ...."

We both knew he was lying.

But I nodded, and wrote it all down.

He never asked me my opinion. Hatchetmen don't. He talked right around me. He counseled me to go with the flow, and not push it. He whipped me with words and then offered a little carrot that somehow this would end up being great for me.

I nodded to myself, and breathed little, shallow puffs.

Inside I knew that I could turn this all around, and end up stronger than before. I've done it in the past. Bumps in the road? Oh, I've been a steamroller, baby.

Pushing my way to the executive washroom, a seat at the even bigger table...

No. Wait. Not this time.

He told me that my misunderstanding would not reflect badly on me. That he was counting on me, now that I was no longer distracted by my family, to put aside my bias and work closely for the guy who stalked me while I was on leave.

It hurt, and I winced, and twisted, and wanted to strike back at his clipped, cold pomposity.

He was so aggravating that I wanted to pound the phone on my dusty desk and roar. Uncoil the wave of emotions and logic and outrage inside me. Shake him with my strength and confidence.

But I didn't.

In the deep dark of the night, under a taupe blanket with my husband, the strategy had been mapped. I reminded myself of the long plan. Of the leap of faith I had decided to make.

My hand shaking, I put down my pen.

No. This is my Alamo, I reminded myself.

He told me that this was a temporary gesture, meant to build success for everyone.

Temporary? Ha! Little did the hatchetman know.

This is the last stand of my corporate life.

I see it coming, and know how it will end.

Not exactly the To-Do list I had in mind

October 05, 2005 | Category: Family, It's a Trip

Stealing a bit from the brilliant Everyday Stranger...

8:29AM Wake up. Realize that CD didn't re-set the alarm when he left for work. I have 60 seconds to get up, get Bear up, and get him the 7 miles to school. 7 city miles. There is no way it's gonna happen. Sure, if I had one of those FLYING CARS we were all promised ...

8:40AM From under the pile of pillows faintly hear Bear shouting "Mommy! It's time to get up." Huh? Hrmf? OK, honey! Just give mommy a minute to get up!

8:45AM Whomp! I have been climbed. By a big giggling Bear. The pillows, they are no defense!

9:30AM I have my 'fat' jeans on and they are tight, people. TIGHT. I am about to chew my own arm off as a weight-loss plan. But thank my stars we are finally gonna walk out the door. Uh, not so fast. Am reminded by Bear that breakfast is the most important meal of the day.

9:40AM Am reminded why we sit to eat. Like civilized people. In my haste to herd us out the door, I have caused Bear to now be wearing the most of important meal of the day. Apologize profusely as I head back to his room fo a fresh shirt. Stand there and wonder why I am there.

9:50AM Attempt to leave the house. Bear reminds me that lunch is an important meal, too. Plop him in front of Nick Jr. while I race back to the kitchen and grab peanut butter and jelly.

10:00AM Oh. Dear. God. We never cleaned out his lunchbox from the Friday he got sick, almost two weeks ago. The inhumanity of moldy watermelon! Repress gacking urge as I attempt to wipe it clean.

10:20AM A glance back at Bear as we finally hit the road to his school and I realize he is still wearing blue yoghurt. Gah. Pull into Old Navy with a squeal and run with him to the boys section. New blue shirt on clearance: $4.99.

10:35AM Pull up at his school. There's SOMEONE parked in the only emergency spot. Pull ahead into the tow zone and flip on the flashers.

10:36AM Ring the doorbell and wave at the security camera. Pull the ancient door open with a heave as the buzzer sounds.

10:37AM He's halfway to the stairs when the office lady comes around the corner. "Excuse me! You DID know that there is no school today?"

10:38AM Slight cardiac event as I look around at the empty hallway and realize this is NOT a bad dream.

10:45AM Back in the car on the phone with CD. Reminding him of that bargain we had where I do all the running around he does the scheduling and planning. Growling and snarling. Oh, I'm a joy to be married to.

11:15AM Home again. The place is STILL a wreck because the magic fairies didn't come and clean it. Bitches. Bear looks wearily at the nest on the couch where he has spent most of the last 2 weeks. I rub his hair and promise it will only be for a little while.

11:25AM Wow, I actually have time left in my sick-day bank. Find the courage to leave a message for my HR rep - "You know how I was coming back to work today? Uh, not so much." Wonder vaguely if I will actually be fired or if the grievance I filed will protect me for a while more. Wonder if I actually had pushed the button to disconnect the call before I reminded Bear, for the bagillionth time, that playing with his penis is a private activity and not something boys do just because they are bored.

11:35AM Sing the "Backpack" song with Bear and Dora as I type on the laptop. Stubbornly do not open work mail. Try to get Bear excited about a day spent cleaning the house. From the look he gives me, I can tell that my tight jeans have kept the blood from my brain.

11:35AM Whisper to Bear that we will have a fun day. He grins and we plot a little. Tell him that I am sorry that there's no school. That he has to spend the day with me, again. Feel his small hand slip into mine as he whispers back "That's OK, mommy." Lean down and kiss his head as he tells me that our days together are his favorite.

Pebble Pie

| Category: In My Life

When I was learning how to cook, pie recipes would tell me that I should bake the crust before filling it. So I would dutifully bake the hard-made crusts, and the crusts would bubble and bulge in the pan and be ruined.

I asked around, and one woman told me to use dried peas to hold the dough in place. Another cook told me she been using the same bowl of washed pebbles as weights for over 20 years. So I dug up handfuls of tiny stones and scrubbed them clean and carefully laid them down into my crusts.

And that's how I made pebble pie.

You see, no one had told me that you needed a layer of parchment paper between the pebbles or peas and the dough. I guess it seemed obvious. But as I chomped down on that apple & rock pie a la mode, all that was obvious to me was that these women must have been a lot better at picking stuff out of crust. Then again, maybe I am slow.

Today, I took Bear to the new doctor to get cleared to go back to school. Part of me was dreading it, because the last day or so - as Bear has improved - has been a very special time for him and I. We have spent hours cuddling on the couch and reconnecting. And I know that once he goes back to school, I will have to re-enter the whirlwind of stress and power plays that is my job.

But that's my shit, not his. And the sooner he gets back to life as regularly scheduled, the happier he will be. So off we went, and the doctor certified him as healthy and wonderful and raring to go.

He raced ahead as we exited the exam room and the doctor looked at me and said "You are, for lack of a better word, ballsy."

I got that confused wrinkle in my head - the one that says "huh?".

"Chutpah, ma'm. You got it. Most mothers are in here demanding MRI's if their children have that kind of fever just a day."

You know, that didn't make things any clearer.

"Normally," she explained to my Joey-like expression of interested ignorance, "when we tell a parent that we can not do any more for a child and that only a hospital is a logical next step..."

"Did I do something wrong?" I asked.

"No, no..." she said, patting my arm. "Look, he's fine... perfect. You certainly listen to your instincts."

She told me that Bear's fever - at 10 days - is the longest she's ever had a patient go. And that she and her partners couldn't believe we didn't bring him back to the hospital when it got bad again on Thursday.

So, yeah they'd told me that we should check him back in at Children's if he didn't improve. But his fever never hit 104f again and CD and I felt that while he was uncomfortable and sick - he wasn't in danger. But now she was making it seem like their advice to us had been some kind of code for "wrap your child in a blankie and race him in"?

The doctor told me no, that wasn't what she meant. But I got the sense as I walked away that I was missing something obvious. That I'd somehow been a bad parent. In a way much worse than pebble pie.

They Said

October 02, 2005 | Category: Family, It's a Trip

I'm too tired to pull my thoughts and words together, but Bear has - finally - turned the corner. It has been 10 days of crazy high fevers, vomiting, headaches, and hives that covered his body and swelled into his eyes. It has been battling the itching, the dehydration, and the disorientation (at one point, he cried in my arms that he wanted his mommy).

4 visits to the doctors, including one to the best Children's hospital in Chicago, and we still don't know what the cause was. That is a battle for another day. Tonight is for a long hot shower, peace of mind, and a deep sleep.

They said this evening on the television that the Internet is a dangerous place, full of cold-blooded opportunists with schemes and petty despots with diatribes.

Wish they could get a load of you evildoers, what with your support and sympathy and encouragement and advice. Heh. Wouldn't that ruin their hypothesis?

Really? Thank you.