I've been up for days it seems. I get an hour or two worth of rest and then it starts all over again. I've neglected my blog because I can't think strait, I'm constantly irritated, and I want to slap someone so hard that it makes their head spin backwards.
What I don't understand, what I think that is bothering me the most, is that Robert can sleep through it all! Then, if I wake him up he acts as if he's been up with me. And, I know it isn't just him. I know other dads do it too, so I shouldn't feel irritated. I am sleep deprived, hungry, and very irritable.
There is no real blog except to say...if I sleep on the couch one more time I might lose it.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Sunday, March 14, 2010
It's Off To Church We Go...
Today's blog isn't funny, just FYI.
Today we are going to try out a new church. When we moved out of the truck and into our first apartment I thought it was important to find a church. Robert and I were raised Catholic and we felt that it was important to give our children, then it was just Isaiah, a sense of belonging. In fact, we'd attend "Trucker's Church" when we lived in the truck. It was a 40-foot trailer that had been converted into a non-denominational worshipping center.
Personally, I like a small, quaint church. The church we went to out in Sandy is beautiful--especially in the winter. The community was small and everyone was very, very nice. I felt surrounded by extended family there. The church we're going to today is not that sort of church. It has three Sunday masses and a school! I am sort of nervous. On the other hand, it has day care and it has a children's choir. Very cute.
My hope is to find a place, near to our home, where my children can flourish and where they can learn to know a higher power. I am excited for them. I'd love Isaiah to go to the Sunday School and I would like nothing better than to volunteer in the nursery. YAY!
Today we are going to try out a new church. When we moved out of the truck and into our first apartment I thought it was important to find a church. Robert and I were raised Catholic and we felt that it was important to give our children, then it was just Isaiah, a sense of belonging. In fact, we'd attend "Trucker's Church" when we lived in the truck. It was a 40-foot trailer that had been converted into a non-denominational worshipping center.
Personally, I like a small, quaint church. The church we went to out in Sandy is beautiful--especially in the winter. The community was small and everyone was very, very nice. I felt surrounded by extended family there. The church we're going to today is not that sort of church. It has three Sunday masses and a school! I am sort of nervous. On the other hand, it has day care and it has a children's choir. Very cute.
My hope is to find a place, near to our home, where my children can flourish and where they can learn to know a higher power. I am excited for them. I'd love Isaiah to go to the Sunday School and I would like nothing better than to volunteer in the nursery. YAY!
Friday, March 12, 2010
The People I Meet...
First of all, I apologize for blog lackage. Who knew that two kids, a husband, a job, and a shower would take up so much time?
When I work, I often have both my children. I think at some point during the day, I have two children in my office and usually Josiah is with me every minute of every day. Constantly with me. I take the boys with me when I'm doing turnovers--except when they're dubbed "urine throughout" or "excessive smoke damage"--and sometimes vendors pop in to do some turnover work.
The boys and I met the most interesting man from MP Plumbing. He came here to snake a toilet and then to snake a tub. Day 1 seemed interesting in itself. His assessment of Job 1 was as follows: There is a POOP load of toilet paper in there. I never seen so much toilet paper. So, I yanked off the toilet and now you'll need a new one. So, not only am I shocked that he yanked off the toilet, but I am irate because I'm late for Kumon and my appointment at Verizon. He explains to me that the wholesale depot is closed and that he'll never make it there in time. I explain that I don't give a shit and that he needs to snake the pipe and reinstall the toilet. People need to pee and poop you know--everyone does and he's a plumber. You'd think that's what they teach at plumber college. I give him a vote of confidence before I pull out of our driveway at an entirely unacceptable speed.
Day 2: He is at the door of a newlywed couple at 9am. It is rainy out. The wind is blowing and it is perfect cuddling weather for a newlywed couple. The plumber dude is knocking on the door, and knocking, and knocking. Then, he's calling me to tell me that they're not answering and that the people aren't there. I tell him I start at 9:30 and I'll be down in 15 minutes.
Fast forward 15 minutes. I make the call to the resident. I know they're home because I see their car. I call and the new husband is huffing and puffing and says, "Hello?!" And I say, "Hi. This is Alicia--resident manager. The plumber is here to fix your tub. Are you home or should I just let him in?" And he replies, "He can come here. I will put my clothes on." Honesty is the best policy.
So, because I have respect I give them 15 minutes. I tell the plumber to wait and I explain why. After all, it'll be a short couple of years when they can have sex whenever and where ever it is they want. Sooner or later they'll be counting happy faces on the calendar. So, the plumber tells me his whole life story. I know that his fiancee is crazy. That he threw out some chicken. That he believes in giving the smack down. That he dated a half black and half Filipino girl and she was 'fine.' I know that he is from Minnesota, that he moved here, that moving is hard. He lives in Beaverton and his best friend's name is Jacob. I also know that his ex-wife would like to take him back, but "he don't want none of her crazy anymore." Oh, and he speaks of Martin, as in Lawrence, as if they were brothers--"yeah, I'mma see Martin tonight--he is FUUNNNY!"
What the hell. I have work to do. I know you're not blind. You see I have two kids in an office. Clearly, I have my day cut out for me. Get out. I friended him on Facebook then I deleted his ass. I felt I had that sort of power.
When I work, I often have both my children. I think at some point during the day, I have two children in my office and usually Josiah is with me every minute of every day. Constantly with me. I take the boys with me when I'm doing turnovers--except when they're dubbed "urine throughout" or "excessive smoke damage"--and sometimes vendors pop in to do some turnover work.
The boys and I met the most interesting man from MP Plumbing. He came here to snake a toilet and then to snake a tub. Day 1 seemed interesting in itself. His assessment of Job 1 was as follows: There is a POOP load of toilet paper in there. I never seen so much toilet paper. So, I yanked off the toilet and now you'll need a new one. So, not only am I shocked that he yanked off the toilet, but I am irate because I'm late for Kumon and my appointment at Verizon. He explains to me that the wholesale depot is closed and that he'll never make it there in time. I explain that I don't give a shit and that he needs to snake the pipe and reinstall the toilet. People need to pee and poop you know--everyone does and he's a plumber. You'd think that's what they teach at plumber college. I give him a vote of confidence before I pull out of our driveway at an entirely unacceptable speed.
Day 2: He is at the door of a newlywed couple at 9am. It is rainy out. The wind is blowing and it is perfect cuddling weather for a newlywed couple. The plumber dude is knocking on the door, and knocking, and knocking. Then, he's calling me to tell me that they're not answering and that the people aren't there. I tell him I start at 9:30 and I'll be down in 15 minutes.
Fast forward 15 minutes. I make the call to the resident. I know they're home because I see their car. I call and the new husband is huffing and puffing and says, "Hello?!" And I say, "Hi. This is Alicia--resident manager. The plumber is here to fix your tub. Are you home or should I just let him in?" And he replies, "He can come here. I will put my clothes on." Honesty is the best policy.
So, because I have respect I give them 15 minutes. I tell the plumber to wait and I explain why. After all, it'll be a short couple of years when they can have sex whenever and where ever it is they want. Sooner or later they'll be counting happy faces on the calendar. So, the plumber tells me his whole life story. I know that his fiancee is crazy. That he threw out some chicken. That he believes in giving the smack down. That he dated a half black and half Filipino girl and she was 'fine.' I know that he is from Minnesota, that he moved here, that moving is hard. He lives in Beaverton and his best friend's name is Jacob. I also know that his ex-wife would like to take him back, but "he don't want none of her crazy anymore." Oh, and he speaks of Martin, as in Lawrence, as if they were brothers--"yeah, I'mma see Martin tonight--he is FUUNNNY!"
What the hell. I have work to do. I know you're not blind. You see I have two kids in an office. Clearly, I have my day cut out for me. Get out. I friended him on Facebook then I deleted his ass. I felt I had that sort of power.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
I Love To Eat, But I Like Skinny Jeans, Too!
I read an article this morning, while treadmilling-it at LA Fitness, about childhood obesity. It said that the first "solid" food that children get, I'm sure outside of the pureed crap we feed them, is french fries. It depicted a picture of parents sitting in a fast food restaurant thinking about how soft those fries are and concluding that it's soft enough for their "baby" to chow down on.
I'm deeply disturbed by this statement. Isaiah's, and Josiah's, first food was organic baby cereal mixed in mama-milk. Isaiah ate through pureed vegetables, all organic, and moved his way to pureed fruit, all organic, and followed that with fresh mangoes, avocados, and bananas from family property on Maui--organic enough and grown in rich, volcanic soil. Josiah will follow the same pattern. In fact, I'm excited to take him to the UPick farms this year. Oregon's produce is prime in the summer and the fall and I intend to attack the farmer's market with the gusto my husband exudes at The Home Depot.
Isaiah won't drink a soda. I don't think he's ever drank Coke or Pepsi. His first trip to McDonald's only took place because of my parents. And, Josiah will follow Isaiah's exceptional example. Isaiah understands what sugar does and he knows what exercise does, too. He knows why we go to the gym and he knows why we eat our mushrooms, salad, and beans.
I'm not one to judge someone else about their health issues. Let the person who doesn't eat soft, succulent white bread throw the first Snickers bar. I love donut dates with my boys. In fact, I cherish them. Not to mention, I am from HAWAII--land of the white rice and Aloha Shoyu. And, I sometimes I give-in and buy Isaiah pancakes from McDonald's. I'm not perfect, I'm fun.
But, clearly America is fat. We're fat and lazy and we think it's ok. We give up after working out for a while, yet we save our clothes that we wore ten years ago. We shop at Whole Foods and the Farmer's Market, but we down alcohol the way we should be downing water. We don't eat enough fish, but we love huge buckets of popcorn shrimp. And, we believe in quick fix diets that don't work--they don't even sound like the would work.
My kids won't be apart of Generation XXL. Dust off the bikes. Run to the office. Eat that apple. No Cheetos. Carry your own bag. Turn off that tv. Drop that candy bar--it is only decoration for the check out stand. Let's go to Whole Foods. Pass mommy the salad. Change our habits and stick together--we're stronger in numbers.
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