Me n' Michelle

November 18, 2008

I'm contracted as a part-time employee, but believe you me, that's a big old fat joke. In the past two weeks--in addition to my normal twenty-hour schedule--I've had five night meetings, three lunch meetings, and two afternoon meetings (I skipped both).

James is with Miss Nancy in the mornings, only during my office hours--so you can imagine that lunch engagements, the dreaded three o'clock meetings, and nighttime get togethers aren't exactly convenient for a mom like me.

But we all know that the economy licks butt right now, and jobs aren't so plentiful these days. Bottom line? I've got to make this work.

So far I've developed and implemented three successful strategies for managing the work/kid conflicts:

1) Make shiz up. For example: I'm sorry I won't be able to attend this afternoon's meeting since I'll be on a conference call with the Governor. Or: I won't be able to make it to this evening's event since I'll be recovering from my female procedure. Either way, there won't be any prying follow up questions--they'll either be too impressed or too grossed out to put their words together--I promise.

2) Recruit some help from your husband. For example: If you can't make it home early this afternoon to help with our toddler, then I won't 'give it up' again until March of 2010. And if that doesn't work: Well fine. Consider your fishing rod accidentally thrown away. Again, there won't be any follow up questions. Trust me.

3) Pull a Michelle Obama maneuver. In all honestly, I've used this technique twice in the last ten days. Remember when Michelle Obama had to bring her baby to a job interview at that hospital in Chicago? Well I've tweaked the routine to meet my own individuals needs, and hauled my toddler to a couple of public meetings. Last night, James drank all of the apple cider and sneezed on an open package of Chips Ahoy at a local DOT hearing. And the week before, he matter-of-factly announced that he needed to go poop when the moderator asked if any one in attendance had any further concerns. And that was after he put his entire mouth around the nozzle of the water fountain in front of thirty or so people.

Oh, who am I kidding? I'm totally getting fired.

Happy Monday

November 17, 2008

Hello.

I did a heck of a lot of writing for another project this weekend, and hot dog I do NOT feel like blogging today.

So you get nothing, except this...

1) I offer you my sincere wishes for an excellent week.

2) I am really, really done with nighttime meetings. I had three last week and I have one every night this week, except Friday. I'll tell you what--a salaried part-time job is for schmucks. Like me.

3) James saw Kung-Fu Panda last night, and now he's absolutely convinced that he is the Dragon Warrior (or whatever it's called). If that big, fluffy panda can do it, then James can probably handle it, too. But really, I might sign him up for the Little Ninjas class I saw in the paper last week. Is that only for rednecks?

4) I'm gonna cook a turkey when I get home from work today. Why not?

5) I really can't believe it's November 17th. Geeze Louise, time is going really fast these days!

Have a good day, everyone!

If I Could Turn Back Time

November 14, 2008

I'm pretty sure that I do something regrettable every single day. It comes as a result of being overly sensitive, overly dramatic, and overly guilt-ridden all at the very same time. Well, yesterday I raised the bar by doing something that can only be classified as highly regrettable.

Last night Jared threw one heck of a Grand Opening party in his office. The food was excellent, more than thirty people attended (including the Mayor), and the conversation was free and easy for everyone. Overall, I'd call it a smashing success.

About halfway through the festivities, I stepped outside to encourage the hairdresser from next door to come and get some food. But as I took one step into the hallway, I was confronted--face to face--with a smiling set of Mormon Missionaries. Such nice young men.

"Hi Sister Lawson," they exclaimed in unison!

To which I replied (in a snitchy little tone), "Holy cow, the missionaries?! Who invited you guys?!"

"Brother Lawson did. We're his patients. Do you think we should leave?"

"YES!....uh, no. Don't leave. It's just that Mormon Missionaries sometimes have the ability to bring a non-Mormon party to a very screeching halt."

"Really Sister Lawson, we can leave," they replied.

"No...don't go," I hesitated. "But can you take your tags off? Pretend to be a normal person for like one hour?"

"No. We can't."

"Well can you hold your plates up to block them," I demanded?

"Uhhhh...."

"Well fine, go ahead. Just don't proselyte, okay?"

"Uhhhh...."

"No guys, I'm serious. If I so much as hear a whisper of a word like 'Repentance' or 'Heaven' or 'Baptize,' I'm gonna kill you. Both of you."

And off they went.

Hoo boy. Not really keeping in line with the whole "love thy neighbor as thyself" thing. I'm sure they're used to death threats from angry homeowners with junkyard dogs and KEEP OUT signs, but from Sunbeam teachers? Probably not.

And that my friends, is my regrettable moment for November 13, 2008.

Perhaps tonight I will invite them over for family prayer, and when they knock I'll whip open the door, yell WHO THE HELL ARE YOU, then slam it and deadbolt it before they even have the chance to respond.

I bet it wouldn't surprise them one bit.

Are there any former missionaries out there? If so, how do I patch this one up? Cookies? Contacts? Money?

I'm can be such a butt head. Such a raging butt head.

Me and My Treadmill

November 13, 2008

This one goes out to Mindy--a reader who's been with me from the very beginning.

***

Yes, I'm still running--lots of three milers, a couple of six milers, and when I'm really feeling like a sex kitten I'll throw a ten miler into the mix. I'm not training for anything in particular right now, but maybe soon. Who knows?

Here are a few running points-of-interest for the three of you who like this topic:

1. Next Tuesday I'll be recording my very first running podcast. Yes, that's right--you'll be able to download my voice onto your iPod.

This makes me terribly nervous for a few reasons. First, I have a really high-pitched voice. When I talk, it honestly sounds 100% normal--but when I hear my voice on an answering machine I simply want to run away in terror, not screaming (why should I embarrass myself even more, ya know?). Second, I'm really not sure if I'm funny on the fly. Sure I can throw around a few good one-liners at a social event...but only if it's a party full of ugly people, or a frumpy parade, or a Weight Watchers meeting. Catch my drift????

So I'll keep you posted on the podcast details....and I don't want to give away too much, but here's a hint: one of the other participants is rumored to have a raging case of B.O. from a three mile jaunt in a monkey suit.

2. I'm going to look at a secondhand treadmill this weekend. Like most treadmills on planet Earth, this one has only been used twice. I found it on Craigslist, it's right here in town, and it really is an excellent deal.

Here's the catch--it's very important that I try it before I buy it. Now you may or may not remember this, but I run like an absolute fool. My stride has gotten much worse over the course of the last year and now both legs do that dreaded kick-out thing. So basically, when I run it looks like I'm trying to a) kick myself in the bum, b) play an imaginary violin, and c) clean my nose out with my tongue. All at the very same time.

I only run in the dark these days.

I live in a very small town, and I'm bound to see this woman (the woman who's selling the treadmill) again. Good heavens, we both have toddlers in the same age range--I'm sure I'll let her down on an elementary school committee someday. She'll come to dislike me eventually, so why should I give her any talking points ahead of time?

I can see it now...

HER: She forgot to bring the brownies! And...and...SHE RUNS LIKE A MONKEY ON DRUGS!

ME: Well she only used her treadmill twice and she still has a nicer body than me...SHE MUST BE ON DRUGS!

Definitely not a pretty picture. So seriously, is it appropriate to ask for some privacy while I try this thing out?

And that's all I've got, the podcast and the treadmill. Stay tuned...

Photo Op

November 12, 2008

Photo courtesy of James Lawson, age 3:
Nothing fancy. I won't bother posting two--they're exactly the same (thank goodness).