Perfect Saturday.

While I normally avoid the word perfect, yesterday deserves the title. The reasons, they are many:

1. The weather. At long last, SUN. And with it, HEAT. I do believe all our snow has really melted.
2. The husband. He is home for the weekend. Yay!
3. The deals. Used bike for Jack, $40. Water cooler @ garage sale, $30. (it’s possible the cold side isn’t working, but I don’t care.)
4. The clean house. I vacuumed, cleaned the bathroom, reorganized the kitchen, did laundry, and cleaned out the van. It was weirdly satisfying to get some stuff done.
5. The parade. I took the kids to the annual May parade in town, mostly so they could load up on the candy.
6. The “nap” D & I took in the afternoon. Woo!
7. The dinner I didn’t have to cook.

And, the #1 highlight of my weekend:
Jackson learned how to ride a bike without his training wheels!!!!! He’s outside now, practicing with his brother.

More than I had hoped for.

And they say ultimatums don’t work.  Pfft, I say.

The nice discussion I had with the Problem Employee (heretofore known as PE, because I am nothing if not lazy about The Typing) on Tuesday has come to full fruition.  She resigned.  Full stop, do not pass go, QUIT.  Last day?  Friday.  The same day she resigned!  I have known PE for over 10 years, and we’ve worked together for almost 6.  She did not view her job as anything beyond just that.  It’s my career, and most of the other staff view it that way, too.  PE was the odd woman out; indeed, she encouraged her own status in a variety of ways.  She’s the type to object just for the sake of objecting.  Perhaps there wasn’t actually a sound reasoning, but DAMMIT, she was objecting.  I don’t know about the rest of the planet, but crap on a cracker, I do NOT have the time for it.

So, PE is gone.  My boss was happily surprised to hear that although she’s leaving for medical reasons, she is not going to claim disability.  Two of my staff weren’t in the office on Friday, so they have no clue this has happened.  I can’t wait to see their (happy) faces!

I think it might be winter.

Over the weekend, it snowed for three days.  Nonstop.  It’s the really light and fluffy snow that you just sort of ignore, and then all of a sudden BAM! there’s four goddamn inches of the white stuff in your driveway.

Yesterday, the temperature crept above freezing, which triggered a big melt, and some gross road conditions.

Overnight, Mother Nature showed how bitchy she can truly be.

We woke up to 6 inches of fresh snow, and it was still coming down.  No more of that snow you can ignore, either.  Big, pushy flakes - soaking my hair, flaking all over my van seat.  Bah.  And underneath it all?  Ice.  Yep.  The van was coated with ice.  The kind that you need a damn blowtorch to remove.  Getting out of the driveway was super-fun this morning.  The van, it does not come with a snowplow attachment.

I got to work and had to shovel a path to the back door.  Then I had to shovel “our” part of the sidewalk out front.  During all the shoveling, I realized I had but one option for clearing my driveway:  shoveling.  By hand.  All 100 metres of it.  Oy.

Showing that she is one of the Bestest Best Friends of all Time, D2 offered to come over tonight and help me (and the boys, since they need to learn manual labour) shovel.  I can’t believe she offered.  I drove home, expecting to have to fight my way into the driveway, and was happy to find it freshly plowed.  By the neighbour who isn’t living next door anymore!  I guess he showed up to clear out the driveway next door, and did ours just because, much like he did the past 2 winters.  I have to find him, because that man definitely deserves beer.

Hm.  Those could be reasons 645 & 646 that I love living in a small town.

Family dinner.

I have some great memories of big family dinners throughout my childhood.  Grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins - if they were available (and in town), they’d come to our house for a dinner.  We celebrated birthdays, holidays, and any other day that seemed like a good one for a family dinner.

It occurred to me last week that my children have never known this pleasure.  One set of grandparents is five hours away, and while we have family dinners when they come to see us, it’s just a small group.  The other set is in another province, and I could have a hard time convincing them to fly out for Sunday dinner.

Austin will be 9 on Tuesday, and we’re visiting my parents right now.  It just so happens that my uncle and aunt are in town - staying here, on “my” pullout couch.  High time for a family dinner!  The best part is that Austin knows it’s in his honour, and he loves that.  My sister will be here, and my mom bought him a birthday cake.  I can’t wait.

At last.

The Auction (SPCA) is over for yet another year. I have been wiped out by it, as usual. We did well, which makes me happy.

I am so beyond tired. I tried to nap this afternoon, but my goddamn dog kept whining because he wanted to go outside. Outside, for him, is code for “make a run for the fence and sneak next door, where the kids are.” He’s an asshole.

Some of my weekend highlights:

Oversold tickets: Yay! Too-small hall: Boo.
Table arranging: Boo.
Last-minute auction list design: Boo. Hiss.
Having all six teenage volunteers show up and be willing slaves for the night: Double yay!
The food: OMG. So freaking good. Whee!
The facility: Meh. Oven was cranky, not enough knives (WTF is up with that?!).
The auction: Awesome. Bigger venue next year, as we could have sold another 75 tickets, easy.
Having to do a short speech in front of 135 people: Not so bad. Once upon a time, I would have been panicked about it, but whatever. I think I’m getting kind of good at it.
Wearing heels: Stupid, stupid, stupid. Nice flats next year. Duh.

Where’s my damn cake?!

This is post #400. In just over a year, I’ve vomited up shared my thoughts 400 times. That seems kind of ridiculous.

I talk a lot in real life, too.

We’re having a nice visit with everyone so far. Got to see Special K and her new little man yesterday. Her mom & I had the most hilarious sandwich malfuntion, an event we will both laugh about for years. (suffice it to say that making teeny fancy sandwiches isn’t as easy as one might think. Unsliced bread? Evil.) Last night I abandoned left my kids in my parents’ care and jaunted off to see Betty, Teebee, my seestor, a couple of other Babes, and the Jam Whore* (she hosted).

Today: shopping!! With my children! All. Fucking. Day. Yee-haw. Between the stuff I need to buy them - and they do get excited about it all, thank goodness - and the McChuck&Chunder lunch I’m planning on buying them, I hope it goes well. I’ll report back.

*the Jam Whore started this whole “whore” business. She has christened me the Kitten Whore (a title I can’t seem to argue against) and herself the Jam Whore. The jam in question is rhubarb. Yum.

Eeeeee!

I want to post about a Big Event, but it’s not MY Big Event to post about.

Gahhhh.

Am VERY happy this morning! WHEEEEEE!

Vibes!

Karen is due with baby #1 today!!!!

Wooo!!!

*~*~*~*~*~*~labour vibes*~*~*~**~**~~* coming your way, girl!

The one in which I appreciate their ages.

I saw a commercial for a new version of pullups last night. Something about “cool feeling” and when your child begins to pee, they feel cold, and know to go to the bathroom.

My feelings/thoughts about the new product:

Well, it’ll be a looong time until they’re available near me.
Wait a minute, I don’t CARE about new pullups.
Because? They’re potty trained!
Yeah, I don’t miss diapers. Or pullups. Or potty training/learning/insertPCwordhere.
Wow.
I really do not miss it.

Before Jack, I had baby lust in the biggest way. It coincided with buying this house, and the fact that Austin, at 2.5 years of age, was begging for a brother or sister. Now? Not a fucking hope. Besides the fact that D was sweet enough to offer up his man bits to a vasectomy, my baby lust seems to have dissipated. I have friends who are pregnant, and I’ll be able to get a baby fix now & then, which is more than enough. Yeah, I miss the amazingness of babyhood, but I don’t miss the messy stuff that goes with it: spitup, poop, diapers (and the pails that go with them, blech), crying (well, that’s still going, but at least we can chat about things), etc….

Yesterday was another brain fryage type day, with a bright spot. I made a new client so happy they called my boss and sang my praises. Helps to offset the sheer stupidity of other persons with whom I was dealing. Whee!

I have confidence in you!

Regarding my post wherein I had to answer the “most admired trait” question: I have an alternate answer.

I was a little inebriated on Saturday night - and oh, how I wish I could blame the foot injury on alcocohol!! alas, I cannot - and the topics of conversation were wide and varied. At one point, D2 and I were discussing sex - which we do regularly - with W, who admits she’s got a low libido. D2 and I are both very sexual people, to put it mildly. I was quite open (read: blunt) about the fact that I enjoy sex, initiate sex, am inventive with sex, and have discovered a mildly kinky side to myself in recent months (all with my husband, how lucky am I?). Anyhoo, during this conversation, W said something (that D2 immediately agreed with) that I’m still mulling over in my head. Both of them say I project an aura of confidence.

Huh?

Me?

I was a painfully shy child, and I still have vestiges of shyness in my personality. I am not the first person to jump into meeting new people, and tend to hang back a bit, feeling out the situation. Perhaps I’m just a typical human, keeping my doubts, fears and phobias to myself. Perhaps not. There are things, certain social settings, that make me uncomfortable. But these days, instead of avoiding them, I stick it out. I’ve had many a fun time that started out badly.

I know I just posted about “doing something about my weight” but it’s really just a vague thought. I don’t hate my body. I don’t love it, but we get along for the most part. I like that my husband loves my body as it is. That goes a long way towards my self-acceptance.

I know I’m confident in my chosen career, and the knowledge I possess. Even if I don’t know an answer, I’m confident I can find it.

Hm.

Confident.

Me?