What a Life!

I got the desk cleared yesterday. It took me most of the morning to get it done. But doesn’t it look nice?

Note the goose sitting on the right corner of the desk – that would be Ben’s.

I must say, it’s nice having the grey desk as a place to put the printer. Other than that, though, I don’t really like it. My theory is that the more space you have to clutter, the more clutter you will have. I have enough trouble fighting clutter without that ugly grey desk.

The other thing I hate about our office is where the file cabinet is at.

If you wanted to file some things, where would you stand, and where would you put your stack of things to file?

When the drawer comes out, there is not enough room for you to stand at the end of the drawer. So you have to stand beside it and crane your neck to read the folders. If you pull the drawer out part way so you can stand where you can actually read the files (and I do keep my most oft used files in front just for this purpose), where does your stack of stuff go? On the shelves next to the filing cabinet? You can’t reach it there. On the desk behind you? Then you have to do a 180 every time you pick up the next thing to file. On top of the files in the back of the drawer? Then the drawer has to be open further and you cannot stand where you can see the folder labels. Ugh! Hate it!

We used to have the filing cabinet to the left of where the printer is on the grey desk. I liked it there because I could open the drawer all the way and put my stack of stuff to be filed on the desk. It worked like a charm. But Steve didn’t like it there because “it was in the middle of the room.”

Needless to say, filing is something I would theoretically like to do every week. But considering the trouble it requires, usually it’s once every two or three months that I actually get it done. Hate it!

Here are the shelves behind the desk. Note the toys that have been confiscated for various reasons up on top. The xylaphone is up there on the right (half hidden by the boa), and the legos and the barn are on the right. I don’t remember all the reasons for why they were confiscated. I think we were tired of listening to the xylaphone, he kept getting mad at the barn because it wasn’t doing something it was supposed to do (exactly what, we may never know), and the legos…he has this thing with throwing and letting him have the legos was just adding fuel to the fire. What is it with boys and throwing anyway?

After I finished working in the office, I went upstairs and did some more holiday baking. I made Holiday Fruit Cookies – they have the fruit that you use in fruitcake in them but taste nothing like fruitcake. I also made Schnitz Soup to eat over my granola. And I made cherry pie with a lattice top for Steve’s birthday. I still need to make fudge and White Chocolate Chip Craisen Cookies. I think I’ll leave the can of pumpkin for a pie next Christmas, though it will bug me having that can in my way all year. I don’t have loads of extra space in my pantry.

Yes, I know, Steve’s birthday was five days ago, and he requested cherry pie for his birthday way before that. But my birthday is next Friday, and we’re going to be celebrating every day for at least a week. Just trying to keep things “equal” around here…

I’ve already ordered myself some birthday presents which are slated to arrive next week. My menu for next week will include some of my favorite foods. And I’m planning fun activities for myself that I don’t generally indulge in but I long for just the same. Secret fantasy type stuff. Like going to Starbucks and sitting down and enjoying my coffee instead of buying it and drinking it while I drive. I will have to find somebody to watch Ben while I do that, and it would be fun to bring a friend along so we can “chat over coffee” – like, chat about whatever comes to our minds, nothing in particular, but I’m not sure who would be interested in coming with me just for coffee at Starbucks. [Maybe someone will read my blog and volunteer?]

My other secret fantasy which I’m not sure I’ll actually manage to pull off for my birthday but I’ll fantasize about it just the same…going to Kansas City and faux shopping at Nordstrom. Yeah, it’s a 2 1/2 hour drive. My car has 160K miles on it, so I’m becoming more conservative in how I put miles on it so I’m hesitating on that part. What I’d really like to do is rent a Chevy Impala and listen to XM satellite radio (like Oprah and Gayle on their road trip), but I don’t know if I’m vain enough to pay for a rental car, even just for one weekend day. But it would be so much fun to get away and drive in the city (Kansas City is so much more fun to drive in than Lincoln or Omaha) and go to Einstein Bagels and eat at the Cheesecake Factory and savor a cup of coffee at Starbucks and faux shop at Nordstrom (as well as other stores in a mall ritzy enough to have Nordstrom grace it’s lineup). Again, I would love to bring a friend along too, but I’m not sure who would be silly enough to want to go faux shopping at Nordstrom? I’m not going to spend anything. Joey would come with, but he’s easy at this age. I just want to have fun looking. And since it’s my birthday, I want to be the one who choses the radio station and makes the agenda. Like I said, I don’t know if I’ll actually manage to pull this one off. Maybe later as a reward for being a good girl and doing something I’m supposed to do. I’m telling you, it would be a great reward!

Okay, enough now. Must get back to real life. Ben is hungry, and I think Joey is awake now too. I need to finish making my grocery list so I can head to town and get my shopping done. And my computer keeps pestering me that it needs to restart so it can finish installing some things. Hate it when it does that, but I’m tired of arguing with it already…

1. I’ve been trying all week to get my desk cleared off. I say “my desk” because Steve no longer uses it now that we have wireless and he has his own email account. When it was “our desk,” if I didn’t keep it tidy, he’d grump about it or move my stuff.

So I’ve been trying all week to get it cleared off. This is what it looks like as of this morning:

In the mean time, I have managed to 1) work upstairs and enjoy the nice weather, 2) unpack a Mary Kay order containing the new product that just came out, 3) pay bills, 4) ship some stuff, and 5) surf the web a little. With the nice weather, I tell myself all day that I’ll go downstairs in the evening and do it, but I’m always too tired and I’d rather be upstairs knitting and listening to Performance Today if I’m home.

Today is the day that I will clear my desk once and for all.

2. Joey laughs when I sing. Really. I think he’s laughing more because he likes it than because he’s laughing at me. But he laughs just the same. When he wakes up in the morning, I sing to him. Like, “With Joey in the family, Happy, happy home.” Ben dances while I sing. At least he doesn’t laugh.

3. Joey is officially our chunky monkey. I took pictures of him yesterday just in his diapers. Look at all those rolls!

4. I’m running an unofficial sale in my Mary Kay business. I used to have the prices of all the products memorized. In fact, when I lived in Maryland where sales tax is 5% (half of 10%), I could add up a sales ticket faster in my head than with a calculator, including taxes. And when I got home and entered the sales tickets into my computer program, I never found any errors. Since I’ve gotten married and had kids, though, I seem to no longer be able to remember prices. In fact, in the last month, I’ve sold three eyeliners for $6.50 a piece (they’re supposed to be $9.50), Bronze Highlighting Powder for $14 (should have been $16, which is even what I quoted the customer over the phone), and two cheek colors for $8 (they retail for $10). So if you’ve ever considered buying Mary Kay product, now is the time to place an order with me because you’ll get a smashing deal!

Seriously, it ain’t good. So I’ve decided I need to take action to stop this little trend. When I eat, unless I’m eating with someone I can have a conversation with (like Steve…not like Ben), I like to have reading material to page through while I eat. That’s how I read cataloges, magazines, all sorts of things. So my resolution is to read the current Mary Kay Look brochure until I know all the prices and can recite them accurately when I see the product or hear it mentioned. Otherwise, I’ll just keep shooting myself in the foot by undercharging my customers (though I’m sure they don’t mind).

5. Finally, remember the cute little sweater that grew? Well, I knit up a swatch with some of the leftover yarn and washed it like the yarn label says along with a load of clothes getting the same special care. The result? It shrunk lengthwise by one row per inch but did not change at all widthwise. So even had I swatched before I started knitting, I would not necessarily have gotten a different result. My theory was that I should have washed it in a lingerie bag even though I was washing it by itself so it wouldn’t stretch out of shape – I’m sticking with that theory for now.

Okay, I need to quit fooling around and get my desk cleared…

Same place. Other side. And yes, it’s the same picture I posted the other day.

That just about describes life at our house these days as well.

I need to come up with a new blogging routine now that the weather’s nice and I’m not holed up in the basement trying to keep warm…

So, in lieu of an interesting blog post, I present you with this: Stuff That Costs Too Much. It made me laugh so hard I had tears running down my cheeks!

Today was beautiful – 70 degrees and sunny!

Ben woke up late. You could even say it was late for non-Daylight Saving Time. He used to get up shortly after six, and now that the time changed, it’s after 8:00.

Anyway, the first thing he did was go over to the window and look outside.

“My loins yearn to play outside.”

I offered him breakfast, but he wasn’t interested. He just wanted to play outside. So I dressed him, attempted to smooth down his roosters, and sent him out to play.

Shortly before noon, we went for our walk. When we got back, I asked Ben if he wanted to eat. I listed all sorts of things he could have, but his answer was “no” to all of them. I asked him what he wanted to do. “Play outside,” was his only answer.

I let him go outside. Then I headed to the kitchen and made him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I mean, the kid’s gotta eat something!

I set the sandwich and a sippy cup with water on a wooden bench we have near where he was playing. They were ignored for about thirty minutes.

When I looked out again, he had pulled his lawnchair up to the bench as though it were a table and he was drinking some water. I grabbed the camera, ran outside and managed to catch these pictures of him eating.

Let’s see…how should I eat this?

Maybe this way will work better.

I’m telling you, the child played outside all day! I had the windows open so I could hear what was going on, and I checked on him periodically. [Our back yard is fenced. It’s spring break so there were all sorts of kids outside playing in the neighborhood so I trust that it is safe, though one always worries.] Finally, around 4:45, he decided to come in.

I must say, it was a nice day for me too. I didn’t have to worry about him waking up Joey or whether he was following me downstairs while I worked on the computer. I didn’t have to get on his case for driving his cars on the wall or throwing blocks around the basement. It was almost like a vacation, if you know what I mean.

Here’s to hoping for more days like this!

This post is an update to Bleh which I posted the other day. I seem to be able to let go of things much more easily once I post them on my blog, so rather than letting this fester all week, I shall voice my opinion here. No obligation to read or anything. Comments are always welcome, especially the kind and understanding ones I received on my previous post.

We celebrated Steve’s birthday yesterday. But before I talk about when everyone arrived and all that, let me back up a little and fill in some more details.

Scene 1 – Joey’s Baptism

The party that practices the habitual lateness is Steve’s brother and sister-in-law, S&S. After Joey was born, we asked them if they would be the godparents when we had Joey baptized as they did for Ben. We scheduled Joey’s baptism for the first Sunday in December and set the time for immediately following the 10:00 mass so it made sense that everyone would just come for mass so they would be there and ready.

Before the day of the baptism, the priest asked me directly if the godparents were Catholic. The duty of the godparents is to ensure that the child is raised in the faith if something happens to the parents, so it goes without saying that at a baptism in a Catholic church, you would want the godparents to be practicing Catholics. I told him they were Catholic but they had just moved so I did not know if they had registered at their new parish yet.

Well, S&S decided, for whatever reason, that they would not be coming to mass. If you’re the godparents and you’re supposed to be practicing Catholics, it would make sense for you to act like Catholics and come to mass as you should be every week. But we could assume they had gone to mass the night before or something and thus they were not there for mass. Whatever.

Mass ended at 10:40, the priest stood at the back door and greeted everyone as they exited, and then he returned to the front of the church at 10:45, ready to conduct the batism ceremony.

Except that the godparents had not yet arrived. [Of course.]

You have to understand that in the Catholic church, you are not supposed to speak once you enter the church. When you arrive before mass, you are supposed to sit there quietly and meditate while you wait for the service to begin. Of course, the priest is sitting there with us, so none of us could even talk with each other. We just sat there silently and waited.

…and waited…and waited. We sat there silently and waited for twenty five minutes. And we had two children to keep quiet as well during that entire time.

At 11:10, S&S waltzed in, the same way as you would walk in if you were five minutes early. No explanation. No apology. No remorse.

I was so angry I could hardly speak. Not only was I irritated for having to wait, I felt like their not being at mass put my credibility on the line since I had told the priest that they were Catholic.

I was so angry I could hardly say the responses during the ceremony – and they were quite simple things like “we do” and stuff like that. Afterwards, there are the traditional pictures with the parents, godparents and the priest. In some pictures the priest holds the baby. Then the godparents hold the baby and pose with the priest. And so forth. We did the first set of pictures with the parents, the godparents, and the priest, and then I was done. I was too mad to care about the other pictures so I did not hand over the baby so anyone else could take them.

Scene 2 – Christmas

In my anger, I decided that when we got together for Christmas, if it was up to me, we would sit at home and do whatever we felt like doing until S called to see where we were, and then we would look for our jackets, load up the car and drive up to their place.

As it was, I didn’t have the courage to be that bold, but afterwards I wished I had.

It’s Steve’s mom who is always early. If you say to come at 12:30, you can expect her to show up any time after 12:00. The set time for this particular gathering was 12:30, and Steve’s mom showed up unannounced at 11:00 to cook her ham (her contribution to the dinner) and S&S’s house rather than cooking it at home and then transporting it as she usually does. I must say, I cannot blame them for being upset with her.

I did manage to drag my feet enough that we were about ten minutes late. Sure enough, when 12:30 came and went, my cell phone rang. It was S&S, wondering where we were. Apparently they don’t enjoy indefinite waiting for people either. I must say, I so feel their pain.

When we arrived, everyone came swarming out as though they had been doing nothing but sitting there, waiting for us to arrive. In retrospect, I so wish I would have drug my feet even more so they would have had to wait even longer. Oh well.

Scene 3 – Steve’s Mom’s Birthday

In January, we always get together to celebrate Steve’s mom’s birthday. I’ve known Steve for six years, and I can tell you that every year, it goes like this: I remind Steve that his mom’s birthday is coming soon and that he should call her and ask her how she’d like to celebrate. He calls her and sets something up like going to Applebees the Sunday nearest her birthday and meeting at noon.

Then I email S&S and tell them of the plans Steve made. S emails me back and says, Oh, well, S talked with Mom two weeks ago and she said she wanted to go to [insert name of outlandish restaurant we can never imagine Steve’s mom wanting to go to here]. Every year.

If they already made plans and they’re expecting us to join them, as is the usual custom, why didn’t they fill us in on those plans before we called her and made plans? It would make sense to us, but that is never how it is. Rather, a little fight ensues between us and S&S as to what their mom really wants to do to celebrate her birthday. And every year, it makes me mad.

This year I decided we were not going to repeat that scenario. When I suggested to Steve that he call his mother and make plans to celebrate her birthday, we also discussed, prior to his calling her, what restaurant, what time, and plans for afterwards that would work best for us. Namely, arriving at the restaurant before the noon rush and then returning to our house where I could put Joey down in his own bed for his nap. He called her up, and she said that sounded fine with her.

When Steve got off the phone, I went and emailed S&S. I informed them of our plans and invited them to join us. I also told them that if they had already made other plans, “by all means, carry on.” Needless to say, that approach successfully averted the annual fight over what to do for Steve’s moms’ birthday.

Scene 4

So the time came to make plans for Steve’s birthday. When he said he wanted to go to dinner at Valentino’s, I suggested that he set the time at 11:45 so that we could beat the noon rush and not have to wait to be seated. He called everyone and let them know what he wanted to do, and everyone said they would come.

I didn’t say anything to anyone about my distaste for waiting for S&S. None of them read my blog, and even if someday they do, I have said nothing that I am worried about hiding. I simply went along with quiet plans to not sit and wait while we watched other people eat and listened to our stomachs growl.

We arrived at the restaurant five minutes early, and Steve’s mom pulled in right behind us. We went inside together and they seated us immediately. The waitress asked us for our drink orders and gave us plates so we could head over to the buffet and start eating whenever we were ready.

Then we started doing what we normally do when we arrive at a restaurant on time but S&S aren’t there yet: somebody notices out loud that S&S are late, and then they start telling stories about previous times they’ve all gotten together and S&S have been late, including the one where Steve and his mom sat in a restaurant and waited two hours before S&S showed up (this was before I met Steve). So not only are you irritated at them being late for the present occasion, you can get even more irritated as you hear the tales of other times they’ve been late as well. Not my idea of fun.

My contribution to the conversation was to mention that as soon as our drinks arrived, I was going to head over to the buffet and get some food, regardless of whether S&S were there yet. I simply stated that they were the ones who were being rude by being late. No one said much, and the stories continued while we waited for our drinks.

They brought our drinks, and I encouraged Steve to go over to the buffet and get some food first since he was the birthday boy. His mom said, “Well, I guess we could get salad,” and they both got up and headed over to the salad bar. When they returned, I got up and got some pizza (I’m not a fan of salad bars). We all enjoyed our food and the conversation about S&S always being late was not continued.

Shortly after 12:00, S&S arived. They came in, saw us eating, and once they had put their things down, they headed over to the buffet and got food for themselves. Nothing was said of their arriving late or of our starting to eat without them. We all just enjoyed our meal as though nothing had happened.

Conclusion

I’m thinking that my stealth method of simply changing our approach rather than having a big confrontation is working. Everyone seems to get along fine and we don’t waste time sitting around stewing about how other people don’t do things they way we think they should.

Granted, there has been more than one occasion where I received and email the next day from S about something that was said or done that she disagreed with. However, I have not yet received such an email today.

If I do receive such an email, I am prepared. I will simply tell her that I assume they are not aware of how their habitual lateness affects others, and I will fill her in on the details, many of which I have shared here. Then whatever petty little issue she has decided to bring up [and I do mean petty] can be given a little perspective.

Usually when I receive such little emails, I apologize perfusely even when I don’t think I am at fault. Occasionally my husband reads the emails (I never mention them to him) and grumps about how ridiculous they are…so I’m not the only one who finds them irritating.

I mean, I realize that you can’t change people, and that everyone isn’t always going to behave as you would like them to. I just get angry at myself when I don’t stand up for myself and I just take it. There is no reason why we should have to sit around and wait for them every time we get together.

Next time one of our children is baptized (if, indeed, we have another child), when we ask them to be the godparents (as they were for both Ben and Joey), I will see to it that we make it clear to them that if they are unable to be there on time, Steve’s uncle and aunt can serve in their place. The priest can just hold off on the paperwork until it’s all said and done.

I have no intention of making it a habit to be late when we go to their house just to get even because I don’t want them to think that is acceptable behavior. I will see to it that when they come to our house, if they are bringing food, it will be something that enhances the meal but is not essential to it. That way, if they choose not to arrive on time, we can start eating without them. If that bothers them, I’ll just kindly explain to them the effect their habitual lateness has on others.

The End.