Insomnia

I'm on a business trip. The last one of 2008, to be exact, and I was psyched as all hell yesterday about that fact. I'm in New Brunswick, NJ, which is less than 2hrs from home, so I'm in the comfort zone where I could get a good night's sleep since the kids are safe and snug at home (meaning, not here waking me up), yet I could be there quickly should something happen where Mommy would be needed in a pinch, like an ER trip for pneumonia or something. Which did actually happen last December when I was in Phoenix for work and I was not conveniently located within driving distance. Oh, the guilt.

Anyway, so I'm here for a two-day conference put on by the organization that I work for, and I have just one night to spend in this hotel. The hotel is only 1.5yrs old so it's not as skeevy as some hotels (even nicer chain ones) can be. I mean, the bed linens seem like only a few dozen people have used them, not a few thousand.

So what's the problem? The problem is that I fell into a nice, cozy sleep around 10pm, after talking to Ken and saying goodnight to Padraic. And then I bolted out of bed at midnight when the freaking herd of teenagers who's here for a model UN project began running up and down the hall, slamming doors, shrieking, giggling, and generally making huge asses of themselves.

When I get awakened in a manner that makes my adrenaline rush, like by one of my kids screaming for me because he's sick, say, that's pretty much it for me where sleep is concerned. Now it's 2am, I've been awake for 2hrs that I could've been snoozing away, and I am ticked off. The teenagers seem to have settled in for a quiet night, but every now and then I hear some cackling and carrying on in the room to one side of me. I know I was once a teenager on a trip away from home w/my friends, and it was exciting to have that much freedom. But now I am a crochety old lady who works for a living, has two kids, and needs some damn sleep. So shut up already, or I will be the hoser who calls hotel security to shut your ass up.

I don't have to be up until the "late" hour of 6:30 so there is still a bit of hope that I will get a few more hours of rest before I have to be back at the conference, working. I'd ask you to cross your fingers for me and send me sleepy vibes, but you, dear reader, are already asleep. Lucky you.

Poor customer service

We have an awesome new pediatrician, thanks to the recommendation of my friend TallGirl, and I have no intention of changing, but let's just say I have a few comments on their customer service.

I recently took Henry to his 15-month checkup, and he got his first flu shot. Since it's his first ever (he was too young for one last fall), he needs a second shot a month after the first one. At the front desk, I tried to make his appt for his second shot.

"Oh, you'll have to talk to Diane to do that. I can't make flu shot appointments, just ones for physicals," I was told by the woman at the front desk. Um, OK. I don't know who Diane is, but I know flu shots are their own animal, having experienced at our old pediatrician's office the horror of "flu shot days," which were ill-timed days in November on which your child could get scheduled for a flu shot. Only on these inconvenient days were the shots administered, and they were always behind schedule so you'd sit there for ages waiting for your 30-second visit with the nurse.

I figured I'd wait until I got home and then call the mysterious Diane, who meanwhile was probably sitting in an office less than 30 feet from me. Whatever.

So I tried to make Henry's 18-month appointment and Padraic's 4-year appointment for the same day in late January to avoid having to come back twice.

Woman at the desk: "What was the date of Padraic's last physical?"

Me: "I'm not sure of the exact date, but it was within the week of his birthday, so anything after January 19 would be fine."

Woman: "We need to confirm the actual date because the insurance will not pay if the appointment happens less than 12 months from his previous one."

Me: "I know that, and it's fine. If we shoot for the last week of January, we'll be fine."

Woman: "I can't do that without knowing for sure it'll be more than 12 months from his previous physical. You don't remember the date?"

Me (who can hardly remember to put shoes on before leaving the house): "No, but it's in his medical records that we transferred over here so it'd be easy to look it up in his file."

Woman: "Oh, we can't look that up for you. You'll have to call your insurance company, find out the date, and then let us know. Now what date would you like for Henry's next appointment?"

Me (incredulous): "Forget it. I don't want to have to come back twice for two physicals that could be done at once. I'll just have to call some other time and set up the appointments."

I admit I left somewhat in a huff. I didn't expect someone to have looked up Padraic's last dr's appointment date for me that second, but if his file is in the room behind the front desk (probably right near the elusive Diane, too) and if someone was going to have to refile Henry's medical records since he'd just had an appointment, would it really have been that difficult for someone to open Padraic's folder, stare at the sheet of paper from his last appointment, and note the date? I didn't think that was too much to ask, and neither did my insurance company. I called them to find out the date, and they thought I was crazy. They asked me why I didn't just have the dr's office look it up in his file. Gee, I wish I'd thought of that.

Once I had the date in hand, I called the office to make the appointments. First, I figured I'd make the flu shot appointments since they are needed sooner. The phone menu gave no option for how to reach Diane, so I chose the option for the appointment secretary. When I reached her, I told her I'd like to talk to Diane about flu shot appts. She told me I'd have to call back to the same number I'd just called, but this time wait on hold to talk to the sick nurse. Then tell the sick nurse that I need to talk to Diane. WTF? I was already on the phone with someone at the office, and I bet she was sitting in the same room as the unreachable Diane, and she wouldn't just transfer me herself?! Are you kidding me?

Doesn't it make more sense to have an appointment secretary, who probably is on each call for only 1-2 minutes, make a call transfer instead of having someone wait on hold with the sick nurse, whose conversations about symptoms and such run much longer each? I tried to get transferred without having to call back. No dice. I called the sick nurse's number again and got a dial tone. Fuck it. I will call back another day when I don't feel like wringing their necks anymore.

Is it too much to ask to streamline your customer service so people can make the appointments they need w/o waiting on hold for someone they don't really need to talk to? How about just giving Diane her own number in the phone menu so people can reach her directly? And how about asking your office staff to handle simple requests like looking up something in a patient's medical record. That's what the records are kept for, right? So in the future someone can look back and find information about something that was done? If I gave people the run-around like this at work, I'd be taken to task for it. Don't think I won't be mentioning it to the dr the next time we actually are able to make an appointment via this labyrinthine system.

Heading for financial solvency

News flash: Life is expensive. Education, kids, house, cars, all the other things that fill life with either happiness (vacations) or just doodads (souvenirs).

Actually, when I think about it my education expenses could've been a lot worse. I went to a private liberal arts college and paid out-of-pocket via summer jobs and student loans the equivalent of less than what one year of my tuition, room, and board cost. Then I went to grad school, which deferred my loan repayment but added to my overall debt since my assistantships and extra employment (at the library, what a surprise) didn't fully cover my life expenses. Bygones, it was worth it in the long run since grad school led me to (a) Ken and (b) my current career.

Getting married and buying a house definitely put a crimp in the ole cash flow, though the generosity of our wedding guests boosted our downpayment nicely. Just as we were feeling confident with our newest financial situation, we started our family and had to rework the system all over again.

If you don't use day care, then you may not be aware of the shocking price of various day-care options. I'm not comfortable with in-home care (just my personal opinion; to each his or her own) so we have always used centers. The first one we used seemed pricey to us at the time, but in retrospect it was not that bad, and you get what you pay for. Ahem, after I got through the initial period back to work of thinking I'd be unhappy with any day-care situation, I realized that I was unhappy with it because the center truly was subpar.

We found a new one, with a steeper price tag but one that was well worth the cleanliness, safety, and educational value provided. And that is the center we use to this day. Of course, once you add a second child to the day-care bill, as we did in 2007, you are going to have to start selling your internal organs to make the weekly payments. Don't worry; I sure I didn't need my left lung or that lobe of my liver, anyway.

Oh, and did I mention that right before we started our family, we needed to buy a new car because we had two unreliable ones? So we threw that into the mix. And in between having baby #1 and baby #2, the second vehicle needed to replaced. We bought used that time, but there's still a loan involved.

The only good news is that having all these commitments has made us uber-focused on what we owe to whom and how quickly we can possibly pay it off. I'm happy to report that my car is finally paid off, and we're 5 months early on that one. While it's tempting to make a pile of money in the middle of the family room and roll in it a la Scrooge McDuck, I will simply be earmarking the freed-up cash for speeding up the payments on my almost-done student loans.

I feel like we're making progress here, which is heartening given the economic situation we're now in across the United States, but I won't feel truly good until any and all education-related and (even worse) consumer debts are wiped out. Then I might, just might, make that money pile. But probably not because by then I'll be paying for sports and God-knows-what lessons and such things for the boys. There's always something, which is fine as long as it makes us happy and doesn't just drain the coffers.

Road trip

Doesn't that subject line smack of fun times, freedom, the wind blowing through your hair? Yeah, well, don't get too excited. This afternoon Ken dropped me at the airport so I could pick up my rental car for my trip to Ithaca tomorrow. Yup, Ithaca. Ithaca, New York. Home of Cornell University. I'm sure it's very nice...when it's not snowing.

Somehow I have managed to screw myself this fall by picking universities to visit that are in colder places than Philadelphia. A couple weeks ago I flew to Pittsburgh and back, and I experienced my first snow flurry of the season. It wasn't horrible, but since I still had a nagging cough from the bug du jour that had infected us all around that time, it was not all fun and games. The cold air made me want to spit out my clogged lungs and start over with new ones.

And now tomorrow I will head to a city where the temperature is going to top out in the low 40s. What was I thinking? At least I ditched the idea of traveling to Penn State's main campus this winter. I told my boss that that trip will just have to wait until the spring thaw. I'm no fan of cold weather as it is, and I have to stop seeking it out via business travel. Next year maybe I'll be smart enough to choose to visit the deep south during November/December. Or maybe sunny southern California, though that long a flight makes me want to live in a Star Trek episode and have a transporter beam instead.

Let's just hope that the rain that is supposed to start in PA and NY sometime tomorrow night waits until I'm home. Cuz I really don't want to find out how my awesome Chevy Cobalt from Hertz handles in slick conditions. I shoulda taken the Mercury Mariner they offered me at first, but no, I didn't want a car that big. Silly Sara.

Overload

I have this book called Survival Tips for Working Moms by Linda Goodman Pillsbury, and in the beginning of the book is a list of life tasks. She asks the reader to go through the list, jotting down who in the household is responsible for each task. There are too many for me to list here, 91 to be exact, broken down into the following categories: A typical day, Sick kids, Cleaning, Laundry, Groceries, Outside, Errands, Cars, Organization, and School.

I counted which ones I am responsible for versus which ones Ken usually does. Let's call it a little uneven:

Me 79

Him 12

And that's being gracious by not counting for myself anything we both might do. I gave all those overlaps to his count.

Hey, no wonder I'm tired.

If you're a working mommy, how do you and your significant other (if there is one in the picture) divvy up the housework and childcare responsibilities? Apparently I've done a great job of screwing myself and am going to have to set out on a campaign of dividing the big to-do list more fairly. After all, both Ken and I work full time. Yes, I telecommute two days/week while he's at the office, but that doesn't provide all the time to get stuff done around the house that he (or you?) might think. In fact, I don't really get any housework done on those days since it's a full enough day just working and watching Henry. Maybe when Padraic is home instead I'll find time to throw in a load of laundry here and there, but let's not expect miracles.

Now I have to think of how to successfully navigate a conversation in which I ask my husband to do about 40 more things than he's been doing around the house. And on a regular basis, preferably w/o constant reminders from me. That's what Outlook is for, right?

Bad housekeeping

I confess: I am a horrible housekeeper. Even before we had the boys, the house was never completely free of clutter, and it never sparkled. Now it's definitely worse. By the time I have the boys in bed, it's so late at night that I have no energy for doing much cleaning at all.

Since I'm too lazy to take pictures (and a little embarrassed), let me give you a quick walk through via words.

Before you even enter my home, you'll notice that the lawn needs to be mown and there are lots of weeds growing around the front porch. Ring the bell. Oh, but watch out for the spiderwebs. Every night a clan of spiders weaves it's webs near our front door, and I have yet to figure out how to get rid of them once and for all. Anyway, you rang the bell, so....

Hello! Come on in. Please don't trip over the pile of shoes that keep the door from fully opening. Just step this way, past the pile of workbags and the chair holding all our coats, and try not to slip on the Hot Wheels, train tracks, random flashcards from 20 different sets, all of which litters the living room floor.

I'd ask you to sit down, but I see you're wearing black pants. That's not good, not good at all. You see, we have two dogs who are tricolored and black pants pick up all the hair that they have deposited on the sofa and armchairs. So maybe you'd better stand and just keep going with the tour.

Come on into the dining room, which I think has a table in it, but I haven't seen its surface in months now. Make a right, and there's the kitchen. I don't have a dishwasher or all the dirty dishes you're seeing in the sink right now would be hiding inside it. Sorry 'bout that.

Oh, you'd like a drink? Sure, but don't watch as I open the fridge. It's scary in there.

Let's go down the stairs into the family room, shall we? Oh, you'll want to duck under that cobweb that's hanging from the highhat. Steer yourself right about the tub of old Halloween costumes and the bins of unfolded laundry, then make a right at the old electric dryer that I still need to post on Craigslist, and you can hook a quick left just after passing the large travel-system stroller (it's usually in the bed of Ken's pickup truck, but it can't be in there now while the old old furnace and our neighbor's old bay window are in there, silly). Now you can sit down on the brand-new couch because we obsessively cover it with blankets to keep it from getting destroyed by the dogs and kids. And there's Ken's leather recliner. It has a massage feature in the back and butt areas, but I never get a chance to sit down so I'll have to take Ken's word for it that it's quite relaxing. You'll see he's built a fire in the fireplace.

I know it's cozy, but let's move on. There's much more to see. Oh, yeah, under the pile of empty beer cans is the bar. It's a wet bar, but the sink hasn't worked since we bought the house. Don't worry: It's somewhere on the to-do list.

Well, I think I'm embarrassed enough now. I'd show you the bedrooms and bathroom, but it's really all just more of the same. Random stuff kinda strewn everywhere. Staying right where it landed the last time its user set it down. Oh, you don't want to stay and hang out? Heck, I don't blame you. It stresses me out, too.

Well, let me show you out the downstairs front door since you came in upstairs. Just watch out for the overgrown shrub outside the door and the river rock in the driveway that has made its way out of the planting beds during past rainstorms. If you can safely make it to your car, I bid you a good night!

Growing up and making a change

I've been very blessed as a fulltime working mommy to have an employer that is flexible and allows me to telecommute two days/week. When Padraic was a baby, I initially just did one day at home per week, but when he was 14 months we had to find a new day-care center that could handle his suspected asthma, and that center didn't have a 4-day rate. And their 5-day rate was out of our reach at the time (ha, now we pay twice that, but that's another story). So I negotiated permission to work at home on Mondays and Fridays.

When Henry was born, I knew I couldn't watch both boys those two days and get anything useful done so we decided to make Padraic's day-care schedule full time. That allowed Padraic to get more education time into his week while I enjoyed snuggle time w/ Baby Henry.

But now Baby Henry is almost-toddler Henry, and to be blunt, he's making me nuts. He is, like his mother, subject to wild mood swings. One minute he's a charming, smiling child, and the next minute he's shrieking as if someone just drove a hot poker up his ass. He's also, unlike his mother, an incredibly picky eater. The only foods he agrees to eat on a consistent basis are bananas and chicken nuggets. Awesome diet, huh? Everything else has about a 97.87463% change of ending up tossed onto the floor. (The dogs love this.) Even foods that make it into his mouth are subject to being removed and flung onto the high chair tray or aforementioned floor. Gross, dude. To counteract his horrible eating habits, which do not go into effect at day care, just at home, I've been sneaking veggies into him via V8 Fusion juice, but he's a sipper, not a guzzler, and it takes most of the day to get him through one cup of the stuff. And yes, he's on a multivitamin.

Add together these traits and the fact that he's almost walking (at just a few days shy of 16mos he is seriously holding out on us just to piss us off, I know it) in that take-your-eyes-off-me-for-a-nanosecond-and-I'll-have-bashed-my-brains-out-on-something mode, and I just can't take it anymore. My baby needs to go to school full time so I can get my work done while knowing he is safe and happy. And I'd like to be happy, too, frankly.

After much soul-searching I have decided to part with my bambino on Mondays and Fridays and instead allow his big brother to stay home with me. Padraic will love it. The kid has never gotten over his separation anxiety at dropoff time, and he is morose almost every morning because of it. Meanwhile, Henry sees the front of the day-care center when we pull into the parking lot in the mornings, and he giggles and kicks his feet with excitement. (It doesn't hurt that the first thing they do there every day is serve him breakfast. He loves food as long as its not served by me.)

Will this change cost me more? You betcha. Will it possibly keep me from throwing my frazzled self into traffic? More than likely. Will it make Padraic happier than Christmas does? Also likely. And since he is easier to take out in public and old enough to enjoy things like movies and play places, I envision some afternoon outings in our future. Which will be nice since in less than two years he'll start kindergarten, and then it's 5 days/week no matter what we'd rather do.

I guess we're all growing up a bit, and it's time for a change. Wish us luck.

Here's the positive post

OK, I probably should balance out that vitriolic post from the other day. Life is not all doom and gloom (though there's a ton of stress that has me creaking like a weathered board about to snap) and here are some examples of the things in my life that make it worthwhile to tough out the hard times:

--When I was sick over the weekend, Padraic would sit next to me on the couch, rub my back and say, "Mommy, I rub your back. Now you feel better?" How selfless and adorable.

--When Henry smiles (as opposed to screams bloody murder), his smile is about the width of our whole house. Add in the blond hair, and he really is my little sunshine.

--Ken can always make me laugh, especially at the most unexpected times. On the way home in the car today, Henry pulled off his shoes like always and started working on his socks. At a red light, I turned to look in the back seat and reported, "Henry's got one bare foot," at which point Ken went "Roar!" without a second's hesitation.

--From 4hrs away, my parents remain a constant source of support, including being willing to come out here and help with the boys (or take one home with them) even though it would mean total upheaval to their normal schedules.

--I've got friends all over the US who each have amazing stories to tell and unique hopes and dreams. We don't agree on everything, but it really doesn't matter.

--I am going to be an aunt any day now! My SIL will be 37wks pregnant at the end of this week, and while little Peep has been knocking on the door to get out since 31wks, she's off bedrest and it's safe from now on for him or her to come out and meet us. I can't wait!

Releasing the pent-up rage

I've been steaming about several things over the past months, years, hell my entire life. I am a bottler, not a releaser. If something bothers me, I tend to just repress it and move on. But I'm stressed, I'm pissed off, and I'm coming clean. So here's my list.

--I have trouble relating to SAHMs. Yup, I admit it. I don't see the enchantment of staying home with the kids all day long. My mom was a SAHM because circumstances dictated it. From talking to her after I became a mom, I have learned that while some moments were pure joy, in general she was exhausted and unhappy staying home w/my sister and me. She taught us to read well before kindergarten because she couldn't stand reading the same dumb books to us over and over. (I can relate. Repetition in any form makes me want to poke my eyes out.) I'm ticked that I tried to start a working moms' meetup group earlier this year, and all I got were moms who defined themselves as working moms solely because they did Pampered Chef parties or the like on some evenings. Yes, that's work, but I was looking for other women who put their kids in day care and understand how obnoxious it is that libraries no longer have Saturday story hours. I can admire what you do (more happily than I would), but I can't claim to understand you.

--I hate to travel. Do I want to see Paris, Rome, Africa? No. If someone told me tomorrow that I would never have to travel again in my life for either work or pleasure, I would hug them and then burn my luggage.

--I am pro-life and am only voting for a Democrat tomorrow in opposition of this belief because I truly fear that moron VP of McCain's as our potential Commander in Chief. Sure, it's your body, ladies. Until you create another little life inside of you who happens to have a body, too. And you are responsible for it. So live up to the responsibility and take care of it, and I don't by that mean "take care of it."

--No, Ken and I do not plan to "try for a girl." Where do I begin with that question, which I still get from time to time? Let's try this: (1) While I know you know this already, you cannot try for a baby of a certain sex, idiot. (2) You are implying that my sons are inherently insufficient. Go fuck yourself.

--I'm a dog person. You can keep your cats, gerbils, reptiles, and fish. And no, that tarantula little Billy brought home from the pet store is not cute. I'd step on it, but I'm afraid. And furthermore, pet stores are evil. EVIL. Avoid them at all costs.

--Who decided that men were not responsible for either housework or buying gifts for their own family members once they were married? I would like to have words with that person because my house is a mess, but I cannot clean it alone, and I am tapped out from trying to think of (and acquire, wrap, and mail in a timely manner) gift ideas for people my husband has known his entire life when I have a hard enough time coming up with ideas for the people I've known my entire life.

--Why must my day-care center, which already gets almost $2000 of our hard-earned dollars per month keep pummeling us with flyers for enrichment classes (extra fee) and catalogs full of t-shirts and drink cozies (not free) with their corporate logo on them? You already get the maximum amount of money I am planning to give you. Give it up.

--Living in an area where you didn't grow up and have no family, when you seem to be surrounded by people who are from exactly here, is like being the only one wearing KMart sneakers in 8th grade when everyone else has K-Swiss.

--Cancer can suck it. Suck. It. I mean, how dare you?