Monday, July 17, 2006

So much to blog…so little time

I’ve been stressing myself out with another big presentation at work, and falling behind on my blog promises. I will say I have been faithful to some…I tried to keep up with funny happenings on the go using an eyeliner pen and the back of receipt. Unfortunately, sometimes this causes more questions than answers when I look back at it two weeks later. So now here I am in mid-July trying to put a story together to explain ‘foggy cereal’ and random other thoughts I have scribbled down in the last two weeks.

I distinctly remember having a phone interview a little over four years ago for my current position. I answered all of the questions to the best of my ability…but one threw me for a loop. Although I confidently answered “YES” when I was asked if I know how to model…I had no idea what my future manager was talking about. It was only about thirty minutes later when I called Matt and he explained that financial ‘modeling’ was just a different term for financial analysis based on different assumptions. Whew! It was relieving to know I had not overstated my abilities and also a reminder that I may need to expand my financial lingo outside of Finance 341. Fast forward four years, and I sit here dreading my future modeling assignment. And not the ‘should we open or close a store’ type of modeling…real modeling. Walk down the runway modeling. One of the administrative assistants here decided to go over and above her call of duty heading up United Way. She took it upon herself to host a fashion show with finance associates as models. She also took it upon herself to ‘volunteer’ models with complete disregard for who fits into the standard size 8 clothing that are supplied as samples. Last week was the first fitting and I practically fought another girl that just had a baby over the one pair of capris that would fit both of us (not at the same time of course). Although I rightfully got to the pants first, I was told by the ‘designer’ that I could not wear them because I did not have tall boots and that is what they were intended for. When I asked if I could just wear my tall strappy sandals, he looked at me like as if I had asked to wear water-shoes with them. Who wears tall boots with capris anyway?!? Apparently the same people who wear suspenders. I say that because that is what Kellie was volunteered to wear in the fashion show. Cool black pants, cool shirt, and SUSPENDERS. When she tried to get out of wearing them, she was told by the designer that they were ‘hot’ and the ‘fall trend’ this year. Who knew? Sure, I will probably be buying a pair of suspenders on the 80% off rack in two years, but at this point, I am sticking to my black pants and long sleeve button down.

I am not feeling good today, so I asked Jeff to pick me up for lunch. As I was walking down the stairs, Hayden and his class were parading through the office. The teachers were trying to keep them occupied inside since it is so hot outside. Hayden was so excited to see me that he ran and jumped in my arms. Since I don’t get that reaction very often, I decided to give up my lazy lunch and take him with me. He was treated like a king…peanut butter and jelly sandwich, on the couch, while watching ‘THE NEW Bob the Builder’…life really doesn’t get any better than that. This evening we have swim lessons. Hayden doesn’t hate them, but he is never overly excited about them either. Last night as we were discussing them, he seemed reluctant to go, and we offered that he let Davis take his spot. Well, negotiator Hayden called our bluff. Every time the subject of swimming lessons has been mentioned since then, Hayden reminds us that he is going to share and let Davis take his spot tonight. Perfect example of why false threats never work! Since I am not feeling the greatest today, I am 100% certain that Jeff is taking my spot.

Mr. Joe was caught red-handed….or make that burnt orange handed. For the last two weeks or so, Hayden continues to say hook ‘em horns. At swimming lessons, when everyone else was clapping, he shouts, ‘hook ‘em horns’. At church. At home. Everywhere. It was getting ridiculous. Then, I noticed that he was being extra deliberate trying to do the hand sign just right. He was holding up his pointer and pinky finger with his right hand and using his left hand to hold down the middle two. At this point, I knew there was another suspect in the mix. When I questioned who taught him that…he tried to cover with an innocent ‘I don’t know’. But we all know Hayden is like me, and just like me, it doesn’t take long to get a secret out of him. I asked one more time and his answer was “Mr. Joe”. I confronted Mr. Joe about it in a laughing way. Mr. Joe sure is lucky I am not one of those crazy Aggies that bleed maroon, and that we are using the opposite strategy on Hayden anyway regarding college choices (see previous blog). Mr. Joe has also taught him to say he is ‘dropping the kids off at the pool’ when he goes poop. Not the states. Not how to write his name. But that he is ‘dropping the kids off at the pool’. Oh, the great education at Bright Horizons. Between that and my Dad showing him how to slurp spaghetti, poor Hayden will never get a date. In his defense, he really is a good teacher, but he would be a great one if he threw out a Gig ‘Em every now and then. That same week Hayden also busted out singing Kelly Clarkson “Since You’ve Been Gone” and asked me if I knew how to sing it. He had learned it at daycare. This wouldn’t be so funny except that every morning when I drop him off, the background music is either Barney or Ten Little Monkeys…so it leaves me to wonder, when does the station change to Kiss FM.

It doesn’t bother me in the least that he was listening to Kelly Clarkson. I just think it is great that he is now to the age where he can spill the secrets. Soon, he’ll be able to tell me all the gossip…which teacher quit and which teacher was fired. That is of course making one big assumption…that he talks. At age 2 ½ , he is already turning into a boy. I thought I would outsmart the system and start asking him about his day early on, so he would never know different. My plan was working. Usually on the ride home we had a conversation about who he played with, who went to time out, who was pushed, what games they played, etc. Last week he nearly brought me to tears when I was asking him questions.
Lisa: How was your day Hayden?
Hayden: I don’t want to talk about it.
Lisa: Oh okay, well what do you want to talk about (assuming it was just a bad day)
Hayden: I don’t want to talk, just drive. I don’t want you to ask questions, just drive mom!
So, I sat there silent and cell phone-less the rest of the way home. Maybe I will try for that girl. That conversation just upped the likelihood by 2% (from 5/95 to 7/93 in case you’re wondering). She would tell me who was sent to time out and probably how she felt about it. After all, on any given day, by 6:00 p.m., my mom knows how my day was, what I am having for dinner, and some other random fact of the day, at a minimum. How am I going to cope with answers like ‘good’, ‘fine’, ‘no’, ‘just toys’ for the next 50 years?

Davis is getting braver by the minute. I ‘m guessing he’ll be walking in the next month. He loves chasing Hayden everywhere, and has a bigger appetite than his big brother. Last night he ate more macaroni and cheese than all of us combined. Over the weekend, we were trying to get him to say Hayden (since that is probably what he hears more than anything….in the most loving of ways, of course). Anyway, he is getting pretty close, but he was trying to add another syllable to the end. To be honest, he was probably trying to say ‘Hayden NO.’

A couple of weeks ago we had the pleasure of hanging out with Megan (aka ‘Negan’, Kellie’s niece). We had a blast, pretending, listening to her and Hayden argue (he may be shy at first but he argues with any and everyone), and swimming. Through her visit I was able to add two new quotes to my kids say the darndest things. She is just so stinkin’ cute!

Anyway, sorry I fell so behind on my blogging. Hopefully I will post again shortly.

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