Crazy All Over

MIA While I Was Processing....

2011-11-18T18:18:00.000-05:00

February? I have not blogged since the end of February? Yes, it's true. I have a good reason.

Mr. HR flipped out.

Mr. HR is moving out on Monday.

I shit you not. He flipped out and we're getting a divorce.

My life has been hell since March 6th around 2pm. Mr. HR dropped the bomb on me he did not want to adopt.

I was upset with his statement, but I figure it was cold feet. In reality it wasn't cold feet. It was burning thumbs.

Burning up from texting another woman. 2200 texts in 10 days I found 4 hours after he dropped the adoption bomb on me.

I could not breathe. We were discussing iPhones, and I checked the Verizon account to see what type of data plan we needed. Oh, he needs WAY unlimited texts.

Fast forward....I confronted him. He moved to from texts to phone calls. I confronted him, he moved from calls to emails. I confronted him, he moved emails to instant messages.

I logged in as him one day on his instant messages and chatted with her for four hours. Dumb bitch never could tell a difference. Don't mess with me.

I don't know if he is still talking to her. I don't care any more. He never did check back in to the family, and he surely never made an effort to put our marriage first the way he should have after he betrayed my trust.

Mr. All the Way, my friend from 1st-12th grades (we went to school together all the way...) lectured me one night only the way a friend of 32 years can. "WHY would you settle? NEVER settle." Those words stuck.

So I processed everything, prayed hard in the middle of the night during insomnia episodes and the voice in my head that kept telling me to dig and find more dirt on him finally said, "You are done."

So I told him to leave. Monday's the day.

Saturday Night Call

2011-02-21T19:16:00.000-05:00

Two weeks ago, something told me to get our awesome painter of 11 years to the house. We really didn't have it in the budget, but the nagging voice wouldn't get out of my head.

So Tim, bless his heart for putting up with me this long, came by the next day to give me the estimate. All last week, he and his crew painted the potential new addition's room, ceiling to floor, built in cabinets, window seat, the boys' bathroom, bath cabinets, Hare's bathroom, etc, etc, etc... All the stuff we don't have time or skills to do. Because of the age of our house, paint does not mean just the walls. It means trim, new light fixtures and so on...

Saturday night, Mr. HR and I were putting the upstairs back together when the home phone rang. It better be good if someone calls on Saturday night around here....

I answered the phone and our investigator introduced herself. She's not free during the week, and she's ready to go. Next Sunday afternoon? Absolutely. She needs three hours of our time, sans kids, for the first visit.

Oh crap. That means we have to be ready. Are we ready?

Are we?

Yes.

Thank you, Tim, for being the speediest painter I know.

Here We Go!

2011-02-10T22:25:00.002-05:00

I received an email today stating our file has been assigned to an investigator for our home study. DHEC, the fire marshall and interview sessions to begin shortly. Here we go!

Reactions

2011-02-07T13:32:00.000-05:00

It's been an eye-opening experience to me to see/hear people's reactions when I tell them we are going through the adoption process. When you tell someone you are pregnant, you hear squeals, congrats, when are you due, I had no idea?!?! And from my Nana, who said, "It's about time. You're not getting any younger." (God rest her soul. I was only 29 when I got pregnant with Tortorise, not pushing menopause.)

When I tell someone we are going through the adoption process, I never know what the reaction is going to be. So far, I've heard:
1. Wow!
2. Wow.
3. What?
4. Can you pick what you want?
5. Why?
6. I want to know everything.
7. Oh, cool. Hope that works out. I knew someone who was adopted.
8. Don't you have enough kids/dogs/stress already?
9. What color?

I don't have a certain reaction I'm hoping for from anyone. Just an observation I'm noting. It definitely makes me a little more aware of how I react to important news I hear from friends/family.

Good News Comes to Those Who....Sleep?

2011-01-31T18:25:00.001-05:00

Stomach bug hit me again today. This is #3 since November. Weight-loss kicked into overdrive baby! That is the only way I can look at it, or I will roll up into a ball and cry-I hate to feel sick.

After doing only what had to be done today, I did what I never do when working from home. I crawled into our bed, turned on the Kardashians and fell fast asleep.

When I woke up, I looked at my BlackBerry. Our social worker emailed me earlier while I was asleep and said we will be assigned to an investigator within 10-15 days, then everything gets rolling (90 day process).

I am shocked.

All of the "sit tight", "don't know when's" were wearing on me/us. Maybe this adoption thing will actually happen?

Holy crap, I have to get better fast so I can clean this house. :)

Nothing Will Budge

2011-01-27T17:14:00.000-05:00

Ok, that's not true. The scales budged. I lost another pound this week. Yippee! More on that later.

It was time for the social worker email-what's the status, any updates? Nope. Nothing. In fact, she forwarded my email to her supervisor because:

1. She again has no updates and
2. She is tired of me asking (I'm assuming this one)

The supervisor is out of the office for several days so no update until next week I'm sure.

I called another agency today to inquire about their services. They only place newborns. When I told her we really don't want a newborn, she was shocked. Um, why wouldn't we want a newborn? I told her the kids are getting older, and I don't want this child to feel different AND be so much younger than their siblings. I also told her I didn't want to pursue anything with her agency. Not settling for a newborn.

Does that sound crazy? Maybe one day I will think I was crazy to not jump at the chance. But I have an image of him in my head. He's 2 or 3, brown hair or maybe blonde and is playing with Tortoise and Hare, smiling and laughing without a care in the world.

Is that too much to ask?

Update

2011-01-13T17:41:00.000-05:00

Mr. HR called the social worker again. The ice storm is over, back to work, folks! Time to return some phone calls...

She finally returned his call and said no progress. The agency is waiting to hear if they will be allowed to operate with a deficit or not. If they can, things may start to move slowly but not sure when. If not, we will sit for a long, long time while the agency goes through layoffs, reduces benefits to foster families, etc.

But they will keep spending money on kids in foster care with a plan for adoption? I know it's not as easy as I think it is, but I don't understand why we keep bleeding money on kids to sit in foster care that could come out of the system to families that don't need ongoing financial support.

So we have a new governor as of yesterday, so I'm curious to see what she decides.

Still No News

2011-01-09T11:57:00.000-05:00

Mr HR left an email and a voicemail last week with the social worker. He called back again late Thursday, and she changed her voicemail to say she would be in the office tomorrow (the 10th). Doubt that will happen with the snow on the way. So...we wait. Again.

I emailed our legislator to see if they have any insights about the budget situation and the agency. No response. I emailed our incoming governor. No response.
Not sure if we're losing steam or just getting used to no activity.

Quick Update, But Not Really an Update

2011-01-05T10:15:00.000-05:00

Mr HR emailed our social worker yesterday to see where things are with getting our homestudy underway. Hopefully, I will have an update later today or tomorrow. I'm bracing for another "sparkling response" or off-topic reply. I hope I am pleasantly surprised :)

This Last Week Was Crazy, Parts I & II

2010-12-29T22:07:00.000-05:00

Hi everyone,

Hope you had a great Christmas! We did. Crazy things happened, but we're all still alive.

Part I: Have Dogs, Will Scatter
Rewind to last Tuesday (one week ago). The four dogs needed to go to the vet to have their nails clipped. I leashed four dogs, instructed two kids and out the door we went. Just as I was going to close the last door to the SUV, three dogs escaped. Annie was in the front seat. I know what she was thinking: I'm the only female dog, I am smarter than those jerks. Why would I want to leave this place?

We live right on a main busy road (we're the first house inside the neighborhood entrance). I screamed. Tortoise and Hare screamed. I froze. What the hell do I do? Scrape three dogs off of the road? Take three dogs to the emergency clinic for surgery after they are creamed by cars?

My survival/mother instincts went into overdrive.

"GET IN THE CAR! WE'RE GOING TO SAVE THEM" I scream. Kids are bawling. I call Mr. HR. Damn voicemail. We're on our own folks. And there was no way he could get home in time to help me. I look at the clock, it's 2:30pm.

I back our huge SUV out of the driveway, roll down my window and start blowing the horn and screaming-"LOOK FOR OUR DOGS! DON'T KILL OUR DOGS!" I pull out in front of cars, never stop blowing the horn. I know I looked like an idiot.

And there sat Oscar, my fat Brussels Griffon. He was already tired and was on the sidewalk of the main road, looking for a ride. The girl in front of me jumped out of the passenger's side of the car she was in, scooped him up and looked around. I think she was going to take him. I rolled down the window, blew the horn, Tortoise yelled out his window "THAT'S OUR DOG", and she threw him in. Two to go.....

I drive to the next intersection, cutting off cars, blowing the horn. I see Sam and Howard running across the street. A man in a repair van jumps out, waves at me and says-"I'll get the Shih Tzu" (Sam). He scoops up Sam, and I turn around in the intersection, pull off of the road and the man throws him in through the window.

One to go. Howard. He has selective hearing and runs like a cheetah.

Howard starts running 360s in the intersection. Cars are stopped, I'm blowing my horn and screaming. A friend from church stops her car, asks me his name and then goes after him. Everyone is screaming, "Howard, Howard, STOP!" No stopping Howard. He ran back across the tennis court areas, and across our street and landed at our kitchen door. The same girl who snatched Oscar ran and caught Howard. Everyone safe. I cannot believe it. Hilary was right. It takes a village, honey...

It's 2:39pm on the clock. Hopefully, the craziest nine minutes of my life. If I had any doubts, I now know my heart is in good shape. It did not stop or explode. I was exhausted, but not stressed. Screaming for nine minutes was the best stress relief I've ever had. Maybe I should do that every day?

By the way, I canceled the vet appointment. They can have long nails.

Part II: Christmas Morning

Mr. HR and I finished putting out Santa gifts around 11:15pm Christmas Eve. Shortly after that, we went to bed. Tortoise is a great sleeper. Hare, not so much. She wonders around the house and ends up sleeping on the couch downstairs a lot. I would rather her do that than fall down the stairs in the middle of the night. Just like everything else, this will pass.

At 2:20 am, Tortoise yells, "MOM, I NEED TO DISCUSS SOMETHING WITH YOU. IS IT TIME TO OPEN GIFTS?" What? Who is this?

NO was all I answered.

2:40am, 3:30am, again...At 3:30, I gave him my Blackberry. Play games, call someone who cares, and watch the time pass. But do not wake me up.

6:10am, we're unwrapping gifts. We had to wake up Hare. Poor little thing. She was so confused.

When Tortoise is a teenager, I will set his alarm clock Christmas morning for 2:20am. Watch me.

I went to bed at 3pm that day and slept for hours. That was insane.

No Progress. Just Sparkles.

2010-11-29T21:38:00.001-05:00

I emailed the social worker today. A "just checking in" email like we do every 3-4 weeks. The agency is a state agency, so they pay for everything. I asked her since we know budget cuts are the cause for this moving 0 mph, is there a way we can foot the bill for a home study then get back on track with the agency? That may sound dumb, but it never hurts to ask.

I hit send and think I'll hear from her tomorrow.

Ding! A reply! Oh wait. It's an auto-reply. (It's November 29th people). Hi, I'm out of the office from 11/8-11/15. I will read your email when I get back.

Ok....are you out or are you in? That was two weeks ago.

Ding! A second reply. A lengthy explanation how she's been ill, out of the office, had a quiet Thanksgiving, no travel. Then she says for us to hang tight, it will be next year before we are assigned to an investigator. (I'm trying to be rational-2011 is less than five weeks away, but what does she mean by 2011? January? April? She has no clue?) No mention if there is a way to foot the bill, even if that means stepping out of the system then stepping back in. Private adoption home studies are paid by the adoptive parents. I know I don't know all of the rules, but she doesn't even address it. THEN-she asks-when were you looking for a placement? Summer 2011? Later? I can't promise anything but I can keep it in mind. Oh-we can't get a home study moving, but you want to talk placement dates? One step at a time. Let's check the biggie off of the list-an approval!

The emails ends-Have a sparkling week! Ok, sparkles in this house mean one of two things:

1. Hare robbed the craft cabinet

2. I'm in the beginning stages of a blinding migraine.

Mr. HR is going to have to take it from here with this lady. I'm irked. Dodging questions and sparkling answers aren't my thing, honey.

The Elephant is Quiet, but He's Still in the Room-Boring, Boring Post

2010-11-22T22:59:00.000-05:00

After the last crazy post about the race issue brewing with my parents in regards to adoption, I was and am still pretty disgusted. After a week or so, I talked with my Mom. She apologized for the nasty word vomit, but there is still a lot of talking to do between my parents, Mr HR and myself. Due to work being crazy and tons of stuff going on around here with the kids, I just decided to put it on the back burner. So the race issue around adoption elephant is still in the room, he's just in a mini coma in the corner right now.

And if you're wondering what is going on with Thanksgiving, I'm cooking. I hate to cook because I hate to clean. But when the third week of November rolls around, I go all out. Thanksgiving is probably my favorite holiday because there are no gifts, no wrapping and no hiding Santa gifts to make things hectic. Food and only food is nice.

I invited both sets of parents to come over and eat with us. If the elephant decides it needs to be addressed in the middle of the meal, I guess that will happen. I'm not tolerating the comments any more. I'm sure I've said that way too many times on my blog. But, that's how I feel. I keep wondering how things will be different next Thanksgiving. Will we have another son by then? Right now, I have no idea...DSS is SSSSLLLOOOWWWWW. Ok, we all know that already.

So I'm off to finish shoveling the house in preparation for Thanksgiving. Desserts are made and are in the freezer. The table is set, and damn, it looks good. Hare (almost age 5) is a hoarder, and I found two baby doll strollers, her back pack, a white board, her lunch box, a princess ball and three baby dolls in my office a little while ago. Maybe she thinks this room is a parking lot? She's crazy.

Mr HR is off this week. His plant is closed for maintenance, and I have a list for him that will keep him hopping until Sunday. I bet he'll work during the next shutdown. And I won't blame him one bit. :)
Happy Thanksgiving!

Color Can Cause Craziness

2010-11-09T19:25:00.002-05:00

This is a tough one to write, friends. And I want to state this is not a post showing disrespect. Something came to a head this weekend that I'm still mulling over....here's some background before I divulge:

My profile states I am an only child with two very structured parents. And when I mean structured, I mean, with steel beams. Change doesn't fly well with them. Good thing I've stayed blond and married to just one guy :) Here's an example to paint the picture: both times I told them I was pregnant, they were happy but it rocked their worlds for a few days until reality sunk in...Mom didn't tell me congrats until days later after I told her I was knocked up with Hare (who was planned, thank you). I guess it wasn't on her calendar, so she was a little shocked.

Back to the story...fast forward to July: I told my Mom we were considering adoption. Of course, she asked a MILLION questions. Conversations with her are all about answering her questions. When the questions stop, the conversation is over. I didn't talk to my Dad about it. He's very close-minded, and as he's aged, he's harder to talk to about most things. That's another story for another time.

As we've gone through the process of orientation, classes, paperwork, researching, working on fire-proofing the house, Mom has asked even more questions, centering first around the sex of the child we want, the age range and especially race.

Regarding race, we're Caucasian and we live in a Caucasian neighborhood. Mr. HR and I talked a little about race, but not much at all. The only African-American family I knew of in our 800+ houses neighborhood moved three weeks ago. Would an African-American child feel strange here? Not because of us, but b/c of the community, maybe? Maybe as much/not as much/not at all/more so than a Hispanic child, Indian child, Asian child? There are a lot of adopted children (domestic and international) in our neighborhood. I don't have the answer to the race question. Again, we're not far enough long to be really giving a final answer this for our homestudy.

Saturday morning, the kids and I called Mom and Dad to wish them a happy anniversary. I mentioned to her that I went out with friends for dinner the night before, and one of the girls mentioned a ministry within a church close by that helps place foster children into adoptive homes and that I need to do a little research. My friend also mentioned most of the children are bi-racial. Oh, if I could turn back time, I would have not uttered the statement. It came out because we talked about it at dinner for a while and the entire conversation was still top of mind.

Then I hear all kinds of comments. She is freaking out we will get an African-American child. WHAT??? At first I'm confused, thinking she's lost her mind. She said she and my Dad just couldn't handle it and she doesn't want people thinking that a African-American child could be a biological child, born due to infidelity in our marriage, etc. She says her sister (my aunt) keeps asking if we are getting a black child (but she's using another word I cannot type). I froze.

WHAT? Now I know I'm hallucinating. I know what's going on. I'm in the middle of the book The Help. It's 1965, and it's small town, backwards America. I was speechless. Momentarily.

I said a few nasty things. Then I got off the phone. Then, I sent some ugly text messages that I am still not regretting. I'm disgusted.

I'm so amazed that for them, color can outweigh how great adoption is. But I think it's more about control. They are realizing they don't have any control over this situation, and they are terrified. There's nothing I can do. I can't say I forgive you for acting like jerks. I can't say it's ok for you to be like this, have a great discussion, enjoy Thanksgiving together and be all giddy. So, the cold war will continue. I can't tolerate ignorance like this.

BabyShowerZillas-Etiquette Advice Needed

2010-11-04T18:56:00.000-04:00

I have two best friends: Single Lady (she's single and seems to like it that way) and the Broken Italian (broken because her husband says she can't cook like an Italian).

The Broken Italian calls me today and tells me a crazy baby shower story. She and I attended separate universities, and she became great friends with several of her sorority sisters. As each of them got engaged, then became pregnant, very nice brunch showers were planned. They were not elaborate, but nice, great food, cute invites, wear a great sundress type of parties. The last of the girls is now pregnant. She is the over the top one, always wanting to be the center of attention and had shoes more expensive than I can afford now back in 1999.

The Broken Italian was asked today if she would like to be one of the hostesses for the shower. Of course, she said yes. She and the college gang drifted apart over the last 7 years or so, but she wanted to return the favor. Then she got the news: 10 hostesses, $200 contribution each. $2000 for a baby shower! What? I'm not sure if I've ever thrown a shower that cost more than $200 total.

So what do you think? Does she put in the $200 or politely back out and send a very nice gift? Yikes!

Maybe Some Movement?

2010-11-04T16:43:00.000-04:00

Just a short post:

I know we were waiting to see if Tortoise was correct in guessing November 8th would be the date we heard from DSS about progress with the home study. But...Mr. HR sent an email to our social worker yesterday. He asked what is going on, what we can do to help, that we're eager to get going, and that we just need an update.

Today, he received an email back that our paperwork is moving so we can be assigned to an investigator. So, things are moving, a little. The social worker saw Mr. HR's email signature and apparently worked for a similar company years ago. She wrote him all about that job, how much she liked it, etc. So, they have a connection. Mr. HR is now the DSS point person. He doesn't know that yet, but he'll figure it out soon enough. Whatever it takes. I'm not above baking and dropping off cakes at the holidays either. However, he's dropping off the cakes. Older ladies like our social worker love Mr. HR.

Hare is working on a list of names for her potential new little brother. She's been carrying around several pieces of paper and a blue marker. She'll call out: How do you spell Max? How do you spell Patrick? She cracks me up, she's a planner at heart! That's my girl.

Chaos is Going to the Vet

2010-10-25T21:51:00.001-04:00

As you probably already know, we have four dogs (no judging, you don't pay for them...)

And as a responsible pet owner, I believe they should get their shots each year and get a heartworm check. AND, I get flu shots for the dogs. 10% of dogs who get the flu die. And paying for their care while they have the flu, before they end up dying, is expensive. So, flu shots it is!

The kids were home with me the afternoon three of them had an appointment. Annie was scheduled to go another day for some reason, but if I leave her at home alone, she eat the walls (literally). I'm spackling again this weekend to cover the damage.

Here's how it goes
1. Get the leashes out
2. Chase dogs all over the kitchen floor
3. Kids chase dogs
4. Kids fall down
5. At least one kid cries
6. Kid needs bandaid
7. Three dogs are leashed
8. Finally catch fouth dog. Oh crap, he's too fat for his collar, find another one from the trio who passed in 2009. Whew, that was close. Note: put fat dog on diet, maybe.
8a. Assign one dog per child
9. I get the two dogs who misbehave in public
10. Unlock car
11. Dog knocks down one kid
12. Kid cries
13. Get kids and dogs in car, while muttering curse words for 90 seconds straight
14. Kid cries because dog is in carseat
15. Everyone finally settled and we drive through the neighborhood
16. Three dogs end up in my lap, difficult to steer
17. Fourth dog runs back and forth in our Expedition, a nervous wreck
18. Get to the vet. Pray for 15 seconds no one dies or gets injured getting into the waiting room
19. One dog breaks free, loses collar
20. Tortoise catches loose dog, back on track
21. Three dogs wrap leashes around my legs. Untangle and yell at Hare to open the door to the waiting room
22. Four dogs wrap leashes into a knot in waiting room. Have to unleash them to get them into examining room
23. Shots go well. Vet laughs at me entire time and says, do you want another? (hell no)
24. Go to desk to pay. Annie swats the lady in front of us with her paw. Lady not happy.
25. Annie attempts to swat an elderly retriever in the face. Retriever not happy.
26. Walk to car, slowly. Look back and see entire staff staring out the window, laughing at us.
27. Load two kids and three dogs in car.
28. Fourth dog is too fat to jump in. Lift fat dog.
29. Kid cries because dog is in car seat.
30. Get everyone settled and drive away.
31. Three dogs in my lap. Difficult to steer.
32. Fat dog has gas. Gross.
33. Pull in driveway and sit. Mr HR will be home in 10 minutes. We can wait.

And that's the day in the life of owning four dogs! :)

Sometimes You Can Go Back

2010-10-25T21:36:00.000-04:00

Electronic this, Blackberry that, iPad this, 11 email accounts (yes, I have that many, don't judge).

Life was spinning out of control. Adding clients, adding email addresses, the to-do list was getting longer. Paralysis mode. That's what I call it when I have so much to do, I can barely do anything/move because I don't know where to start.

Then Nancy's flyer appeared.

I was at a women's networking luncheon and I read the words, "Personal Management". I thought-I'm organized, I keep other people on track but I need this. So I called one of my favorite clients/friends, and he agreed to go with me. If he's reading this, it's because he needed it more than me (haha).

Four hours of class flew by in a blink. We discussed why we make things urgent (procrastination most of the time), how to track interruptions, how to prioritize money-making activities, how to keep ALL of those to-do lists in place instead of in 5 notebooks.

I'm seeing the light, I'm seeing the light...

Then, uber-organized Nancy breaks out the 7-ring planner. Remember Franklin Covey dayplanners? Ahhh...the late 90s are coming back to me. I can barely contain my giddyness (is that a word?). I'm feeling peace among the universe. This version is a little different, but pencil hitting paper, writing down what I need to do, when, how, no mindless button pushing, I'm back in control.

And have been ever since. Try it. Going back to the basics and cutting out the clutter (buttons, accounts, online organizers) never hurts.

All I Hear....Crickets.

2010-10-25T18:20:00.000-04:00

Not a word from DSS. I know it's only been three weeks since I dropped off the adoption mountain of paperwork, but with the silence we know they haven't even put our info in the system to get things rolling. They told us we would get an email when everything was in the system so we would know we are really "in the queue". We knew this was going to take a long time, but I felt they would at least get the paperwork in and notify us we are now in the long line to get approved. You would think the homestudy process/meetings/writeups would drag, not this.

Am I discouraged? Not yet. Psychic Tortoise assures me we will hear something on November 8th. :) And Psychic Tortoise is on a prediction streak I can't explain. Do I now understand why people get frustrated with DSS? Absolutely. In addition to budget cuts, there is no incentive for them to move quickly. Hopefully, they will get the job done in order to help a child. He's out there, waiting.

When All Else Fails, Tacky Up the Yard

2010-10-13T18:24:00.000-04:00

I'm in paralysis mode. What's that you ask? You know the feeling, there's so much going on you don't know where to start. Yep, that's where I am right now. Work, finishing up things around the house so the homestudy process will go smoothly, juggling kids and life, and dealing with these four crazy dogs. (These dogs want more attention from me than our first three ever did. I must smell like a dog. They are all over me.)

So instead of freaking out or staying paralyzed, I decided to distract myself and tacky up the yard for Halloween. Don't get me wrong, this isn't a new idea. Every year, we buy a little more at K-mart. Inflatables, lights on the shrubs, a graveyard, spiders that jump and ghosts that fly across the porch. It's getting tackier every year. All other holidays, we're tasteful. But at Halloween, we go all out...

I know our neighbors with the for sale sign in the yard prayed their house would sell and close way before Halloween season. There is no chance for them until around Nov 3rd. We're not through yet. I'll post a picture when we're through (hopefully this weekend).

The Tae Kwon Do Tournament

2010-10-10T21:47:00.002-04:00

It's taken me a while to process what happened at the Tae Kwon Do tournament from several weeks ago. Maybe I just tried to forget the whole thing.

We had to be at the tournament that Saturday morning by 9:30. Mr. HR's events were in the morning, Tortoise's after lunch. It was 95 outside that day. And 105 in the gym. The school gymnasium that was rented for the day had no air conditioning, and apparently the Tae Kwon Do management didn't push to get it repaired. Only about 400 people were there, closer to 600 after lunch.

So it was hot, it was unorganized and frankly, I was irked we paid that much money for chaos.

Mr. HR placed first in both of his events. Not surprising. He's good.

The heat is rising, the chaos is increasing, and Tortoise is wilting. He has to put on his uniform, his pads, so his body temperature has to be about 102. Wilting, wilting, wilting...

He does pretty well in forms and board breaking. Moms from the other schools are mouthing off on the sidelines, just being rude and trashy. I'm getting agitated and really want to just go all redneck on them...

Then it was time to spar. Because Tortoise is a big kid, he was matched with someone two belt ranks higher than him (but similar weight/height). About 45 seconds in the first round, Tortoise gets kicked under his chest pad in the gut. Hard. I hear him scream through his mouth guard. It took every ounce of strength not to jump in the ring and beat the living snot out of the that nasty kid he was fighting. Tortoise rarely cries, and now he's sobbing. His coach calls time-out, and after a minute, he's back in the ring.

Tortoise then tries to kill his opponent. Of course, I'm all for this and we're cheering him on. That's my baby.

In the end, Tortoise didn't win. He was in too much pain and worn out from 105 degree temps to come out on top.

Next year, I'm putting a disclaimer on our sign-up form that we get a full refund if the air conditioning is broken. Freaking ridiculous. That is six hours of my life I will never get back.

Paperwork, Done.

2010-10-06T13:25:00.002-04:00

At least for now. I met with our social worker this morning. We went through everything I brought, and she said we are good to go. Here's the catch: budget cuts in our state reduced the amount of money to pay investigators for home studies. Although some money is slowly trickling back in, there are 50-60 families ahead of us that need a home study completed. Normally, we would start in a week. Now, we may start in 60-90 days or more. So, the waiting begins. I am okay with this. I would rather know there is a wait than not know until I'm begging for information. Everything will happen when it is supposed to, that I know for sure.

As I was leaving the building, she agreed we should touch base monthly, and she would email me updates as soon as she has them. I feel very relieved the pile of papers are out of my house and in her hands (yes, I made two photocopies of everything b/c I'm that crazy).

Tortoise is psychic (don't laugh, he is..he's guessed the sex of 9 babies in a row correctly and no, you may not fly him to Vegas for the weekend). He told me today before I left something would happen November 8th. Let's see if Tortoise is right. Maybe that will be the day they kick off the home study festivities :)

Killin' Some Trees, DSS Eve

2010-10-05T22:19:00.001-04:00

Tomorrow morning is my meeting with DSS to turn in adoption paperwork.

I've killed 11 trees to date, copying everything they need to get the ball rolling into a homestudy:

Pictures, medical reports, autobiographies, tax returns, checklists of what you will and won't accept in a child, forms of people to contact if they can't find us and stool samples. I'm kidding...just checking to see if you are really reading...

Here's hoping this is quick, painless and answers a couple of questions about timing of homestudy visits for us.

And away we go!!!!

Update probably tomorrow.

Can I Juggle Anything Else? Absolutely.

2010-10-01T17:24:00.005-04:00

Wow, what a week.

1. The week started off with part 2 of a physical so family doctor could fill out a form saying I'm stable and healthy to adopt. Hello triglycerides, we're going to have to work on you...no more junk food! And his scales totally need to be re-calibrated. I weigh 11 pounds less at home. And I like that. Other than that, things are a-ok.

2. Helping a client with business development/sales in addition to marketing now. That requires a shift in mindset. Still working on that one. Great client, great service they offer. Keeping my 2010 resolution of only good clients...

3. Mr. HR tested for his blue belt with a red stripe at Tae Kwon Do. He did great. Kids acted like jerks. We left after his test and Mr. HR had to get a ride home...(sorry Mr. HR). Normally, we watch all of the students then watch everyone promote to the next belt. I had zero patience for Tortoise and Hare acting like two contestants on that MTV show Jackass.

4. Talked to an adoption attorney last night. She's a friend of a friend and is local. Like everyone else I've talked with throughout the adoption process, she told me the good, the bad and the ugly. She eased my fears of this being a Lifetime movie plot, with a screaming child being pulled out of our house at the 11th hour. South Carolina apparently has zero tolerance for Lifetime movie plots. Now I have to start thinking of who we should use as a Guardian Ad Litem....hmmm....

5. Tortoise (resting heart rate of 25) had the LOUDEST and WILDEST friend over day. After I hooked wild man up to a Ritalin IV, things settled down. I'm still in danger of stroking out. Geez. His mother must be deaf. Sweet kid, though.

6. Normal client work, meetings, networking, billing.

7. Call with our social worker. Meeting her next Wednesday morning to turn in our paperwork and discuss next steps. Oh crap, DSS is getting ready to invade our lives (and just know I don't like invasion).

8. Prepping for Mr. HR's birthday lunch tomorrow during the Clemson/Miami game. Go Tigers!

Ok, after typing all of this, I think I may sound like a whiner. I'm not complaining...just a lot going on....
The scary thing is, I'm pretty sure I can handle more.

Tortoise is Going to Kick Some Ass

2010-09-24T19:06:00.001-04:00

Tomorrow is the Annual Tae Kwon Do tournament. Tortoise, although he's a lover not a fighter, is a great Tae Kwon Do student. He will test for his black belt August 2011, when he's 8 1/2. I think that's pretty impressive.

Tortoise likes everyone. And just about everyone likes Tortoise. Except one kid at Tae Kwon Do. I'll call him MugShot. MugShot because one day, he'll have one on the 6 o'clock news. He's just a pain in the ass. Pins kids up against the wall in the bathroom after class. Doesn't listen. Says nasty things to kids when they walk through the dojang (school).

So Tortoise decided to sign up for the sparring (fighting) event at the tournament. Serious stuff meaning helmets, cups, chest guards and mouth guards. Tortoise isn't the best at sparring, because he's a lover, not a fighter. He can break a board by looking at it, but potentially hurting someone else isn't his game.

Last night, I took Tortoise to Atlanta Bread, just the two of us. I called out his spelling words while we ate then I told him, "You will probably have to spar against MugShot Saturday. And last year he kicked your butt. This year, when you go out there, no matter who you have to fight, you think of one thing: How would you feel and what would you do if someone broke in our house and hurt me? That's how you spar on Saturday."

Tortoise looked at me with rage his huge green eyes and said, "Mom, don't get mad at what I'm going to say, but I'm going to kick MugShot's ASS!"

That's my baby. We plan on Tortoise bringing home a gold tomorrow. MugShot, watch your back.

StakeOut in the PlayHouse and Relocation of Junk

2010-09-20T10:30:00.004-04:00

7am Saturday morning, I hear the neighbors (in their 70s) next door open the garage door. Then, I hear tons of voices.

YARD SALE!

I immediately think: They are going to sell their house if they are selling so much stuff. I have to find my next neighbors. Cannot leave this to chance with some realtor. (already told one friend to get her house ready to sell so they can move in :)

After lunch, the sale is still going on. Steady traffic. Our neighbors must be gifted at merchandising their junk. Tortoise and Hare are in the playhouse, staking out the situation, using their telescope (the sale is in the neighbor's backyard). Suddenly, they run in and grab some change out of the family change jar. I asked what they are planning, and they said they found something at the sale they are going after...RIGHT NOW!

10 minutes later they come home with a light blue blanket with sheep all over it. Not the classiest blanket, but it's okay. Tortoise said he paid 50 cents for it. When asked what he planned on doing with the blanket, he said, "It's for our new brother. I bet he doesn't have any blankets, and he'll need this when he's sleeping or watching tv with us." Can't be mad about that.

They went back several other times, bought one more blanket, then the neighbors just started giving crap to them: teddy bear coffee mugs, 1000 piece jigsaw puzzles 1988 Southern Living Christmas Cookie cookbook. So the junk is still on the same street, just relocated to the dump on the corner (our house).

So, should I ask our neighbors if they are selling? They are great neighbors. I want to make sure I can help choose the next ones by having a heads up about their plans! What do you think?

Klepto Actions Lead to DMV, Then onto Hell (otherwise known as the Social Security office)

2010-09-14T19:46:00.001-04:00

My daughter (fondly known on this blog as Hare), is a non-vicious kleptomaniac. She doesn't plot and scheme to take things, she just collects small items here and there and deposits them in places where you would not normally look. Example, open a drawer in the dining room where Nana's china is stored, and you may find: a paperclip, a sticker, an old piece of gum, a credit card (yikes!), a Flinstones vitamin and the phone bill. Remember, I don't ask "why?" anymore...

Today, my driver's license was missing. I'm convinced she "collected" it for something. In a slight panic, I decided to drive to the DMV to get a replacement instead of waiting several days for them to mail one to me. After that 15 minute field trip (our crazy governor actually straightened out our DMV issues years ago, thank you Mark Sanford), I decided it was time to replace my Social Security card that has been missing for 12 years (can't blame that on 4 year old Hare). Armed with my new driver's license, I walk in to Hell. Yes folks, welcome to the Social Security office.

Babies screaming. Trashy people that smell hanging around outside and in the lobby. An armed security guard (what? oh, that's right, I'm in a federal facility). A nice retired gentlemen prints out a number and sends me to a chair.

I start checking my Blackberry and then the security guard comes over. "Ma'am, you're in a federal facility. You may either exit the building and check your phone or you can give the phone to me." WHAT? I am NOT McGyver. This phone will not explode or cause anyone harm. But out of respect for the man packing heat, I tuck it away in my 25 lb purse.

An hour goes by. A scary lady grabs her toddler grandson from her daughter, walks outside and whips him on the sidewalk. The armed security guard just watches. More babies crying. People trying to get ahead of others. The security guard is now answering the phone "Dominoes pizza"! The retired gentleman at the front is telling everyone the wait is shorter on Thursdays. Armed security guy tells everyone Wednesdays are better. I'm thinking the entire time, Obama, this is the ONE place where I do want some change. Come on!

75 minutes later, I leave with a receipt that shows I will receive a new card in a week. The lady who processed my request looked at me and said, "Honey, when you retire, don't come back. Just do it all online and avoid the CRAZINESS." Amen.

School is Kicking My Butt

2010-09-14T19:28:00.000-04:00

and I'm not talking about night classes for this Crazy Lady. Elementary school and pre-school are killing me. PTA Open House meetings, homework, spelling tests, fall fundraisers, consignment sales, packing lunches, checking backpacks to make sure toys aren't being taken to school....you know where I'm going with this.

I know it's all part of being on the parent train, but it's still kicking my butt. Fall break, anyone?

The 14-Hour Class

2010-09-12T18:23:00.001-04:00

Friday and Saturday, we sat through a class called Foundations of Caregiving, which is required as part of the homestudy for DSS. The instructor was the adoption supervisor for our region. She was awesome. No sugarcoating, no "we are DSS and although you hear bad crap about us, we're great". She told it like it was...

Both days the instructor required EVERYONE to participate. By the end of the two days, everyone pretty much knew where everyone stood with adoption. She explained how a million factors go into being selected, the process, the good, the bad and the ugly. Overall, we were both really impressed with the structure of the class, the honesty and the content. A lot of the content should be required before anyone even delivers a baby (parenting, communication, discipline, etc).

She talked a ton about foster parents who attended the class and ended up in jail for beating and killing kids (foster parents have to take this class as well), how good people do bad things to children, especially when they weren't really committed to taking care of a child no matter what . The biggest shock was how many families bring children back to DSS, even after adoptions have been finalized (the latest one was several years after a finalization). Needless to say, the stories definitely made me realize how sheltered we are.

So now, it's up to us. We have the mound of paperwork to fill out and turn in to keep this moving. No one will follow up with us, unless we turn it in to keep things going. Mr. HR and I have a lot of talking and thinking and praying to do.

Tortoise and Hare are completely in the loop as to why we were gone for two days, what we were learning, etc. As soon as we picked them up, they both asked what time we are picking their brother up. :)

Time on My Hands and a Case of the Internet Scaries

2010-09-07T11:01:00.001-04:00

So last week I hired a lady to deep clean our house. She completely understands deep cleaning. Seven hours later, my nasty house was clean. You could smell it, you could feel it. And she's coming back in three weeks. Amen.

With all of the time I didn't have to spend cleaning over Labor Day weekend, I enjoyed it with Mr. HR and the kids. Tortoise had his best friend spend the night Friday night, then Tortoise and Hare both entertained us off and on with little plays, dress-up, a few sibling fights and getting busted for watching not so nice Pillsbury dough boy videos on YouTube. Check this one out:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bl3rDMv3ta8

Naasty.

Then of course, because I had some time on my hands, I did a little more digging on adoption/South Carolina procedures online. I just can't help it, I'm an internet research nerd. The one thing I don't do: I do not research physical symptoms until I have myself loony (that's for true crazy people), but I do like to find multiple views on a situation, such as adoption.

Then I found it: a larger database of children available for adoption (in our state and nationwide). Scary, scary stuff. 3 year olds that can't talk and can barely raise their heads. Sibling groups of 5-6 kids that have been in foster care for years, other children that can't walk, have feeding tubes, etc. DSS explained to us all of the children in the system are special needs, because abuse and neglect are considered special needs conditions.

In my little warped bubble of a world, I assumed there are tons of kids out there that have been beaten and neglected but are still able to walk, talk and function in society. What if this isn't the case? Or what if DSS just "markets" the severely disabled because they are hard to place?

Then my stomach started hurting and as usual, I track down Mr. HR while he is on a date with the yard, trimming trees. In his calm, rational tone as ususal, he says we should go to the class this Friday and Saturday then discuss. I'm going to admit this now: I'm afraid, a little scared and now just want to hide under the table in Atlanta Bread I'm sitting at while I type.

What am I scared of? Jumping through the 187 hoops and being told we aren't a match to anyone? Yes. Finding out special needs really means wheelchair, feeding tube and a lifetime of challenges? Yes.

We'll see what Friday and Saturday hold. And I'm not looking up any more adoption sites this week.

And....Things Speed Up

2010-09-03T22:28:00.002-04:00

My last post explained how not much happens with the adoption process in South Carolina until we attend a 14-hour class in November about the foundations of caregiving. One of the items on the huge checklist is a physical for everyone living in the house. I went ahead and scheduled part one of a physical for Mr. HR and myself for next Wednesday. The first part is just blood work, EKG and a chest x-ray, no face time with the doctor to tell him why we're there.

This week, I started thinking about paperwork and realized we don't have the document we have to give to our doctor for him to fill out (I'm guessing that's called a statement of health?). I called our social worker and left her a message to see if I'm jumping the gun on the physicals or did I miss a form at orientation. She called the next day and told me that statement of health forms are passed out at the orientation and to sit tight. I told her great, glad I wasn't losing my mind (or a piece of paper). I did tell her I was concerned if we schedule our physicals after November, we won't get in until January and would have to pay full price versus "we've met our deductible" price so I may just ask the doctor if he will fill out paperwork 2-3 months after he sees us. She seemed confused, then realized we aren't in the orientation next weekend.

She asked why we were waiting until November, and I told her that was the first class we could get into, based on the sign-up sheets at orientation. I asked if there was a cancellation list for October, and she said usually there isn't one but she would make a note just in case.

Thirty seconds later my phone rings again. She laughs and says it's been a long week, and she completely forgot a couple had to cancel for the September orientation the day before and she put us on the list. I sounded dumb, "oh, ok, thank you, I'll call my husband and let him know." SO, we're moving right along into the class next Friday and Saturday. I'm ready for this class. I've heard it's a tough two days. After all of the "textbook training", they bring in couples who have had a great experience with DSS and some that didn't and are willing to share their stories. After the class is when everything starts to happen: inspections, interviews, and so on. How fast, I have no idea?

The logical part of me still wonders if we are absolutely nuts to add a third child to our family. Nothing crazy is going on here, things are nice and normal most days... so why would we possibly rock the boat? Then my heart kicks my head and prays for the little boy out there that will be placed with us, hoping he's okay, safe and not scared, and hope that deep down, he knows that soon he'll be with four people who already love him.

The Orientation Meeting

2010-08-27T15:31:00.002-04:00

Monday night, Mr. HR and I went to the social services/adoption office and attended their monthly adoption orientation meeting. Our social worker warned us "all types would be there". Originally, I wasn't sure what she meant. Ok, she was right. Mr. HR whipped out his blackberry several times to snap a photo of some of the attendees. I was quick to grab it so he couldn't. Crazy!

The presentation was thorough, gave us a great overview of next steps and answered a lot of our questions. We were asked to not ask questions until the end. We were also told how all of the kids in state custody are considered special needs, due to abuse and neglect. Once the lead social worker stopped talking, the hands flew up.... Some of the questions from the eclectic crowd included:

1. All of my wild rabbits in the backyard in the cage, do those need to get rabies shots before our home is inspected? (this lady's husband had a mullet about 14 inches long, I shit you not. Mr HR kept leaning over chanting...all business up front, party in the back...do you see what I deal with?)
2. How much do we get paid if we adopt? (hello, this is not foster care orientation, nor a W-2 paying position)
3. Do you pay for their daycare until they go to K5, even after the adoption?
4. I don't have a birth certificate, so can I just be excused for that? (You don't have a what?)

By this time, my eyes are rolling. What a bunch of moochers and morons..., and I'm hoping the social workers know who asked which question so they can get a big fat red X on their file.

Mr. HR and I turned in the paperwork we were given a month ago, signed documents to allow for thorough background checks, and then signed up for a two-day, 14-hour foundations of caregiving class in November. Maybe we will finally learn how to take care of our kids! haha Until then, we just have to get fingerprints, physicals and start gathering important documents. All of the inspections and interviews happen after the 14-hour class.

So far, we're thinking of a child between the ages of 1-3 or 1-4 and feel a boy would work best with the personalities of our children. Hare is THE BOSS. Another female probably wouldn't mesh.

This may sound crazy, but I'm glad this isn't a 60-day turnaround. There's a lot to do, prepare for and figure out before we bring a child into our home. I'm sure I'll look back on this post and think I was nuts down the road because things will be dragging out.... But this is such a big decision, and we want to be as ready as we can before this family of four becomes a family of FIVE!

My Canine Committee

2010-08-10T22:28:00.001-04:00

My office is in our home in our formal living room. All of the furniture in the room, except for my desk, are from my grandmother's house. Refinished and recovered in awesome fabrics...the way I like my antiques. The furniture is formal and not so comfortable, but it reminds me of Nana's house, sitting around after a big lunch "visiting" until someone fell asleep from overeating.

Because I work for myself, I'm home by myself. A lot. No one likes this room but the canine committee and me. The canine commitee consists of our four dogs: Oscar, Sam, Howard and Annie. Most days if you walk in my office you'll see each dog sitting alone on a piece of furniture. Two chairs, two couches, four seats. I can ask them a question and someone growls or barks. If I talk to myself briefly, they all listen very carefully. They know exactly when I should check the mail (Sam's goal is to murder the mailman), when a child will be dropped off or when FedEx is bringing something to the door. All four are on guard staring out the bay windows. If I get on the phone and give them the evil eye before I answer, they behave. If I don't say anything, someone starts a fight and causes a ruckus. I have to laugh because tonight, even though it's past their bedtime, they are keeping me company in their same spots while I work (and blog). They are just fast asleep instead of being on guard for every detail outside.
I used to tell people "it gets lonely working for yourself". Then I realized, I haven't been alone... yet.

A Little More on Adoption-Call with Social Worker

2010-08-03T19:16:00.001-04:00

So after yesterday's post, I received a couple of emails with people wanting to know more about what we have to do to be considered "adoptive" parents. Here's what I know from talking with the social worker.

-We attend an orientation at the end of the month. This two hour class gives the good, the bad and the ugly on the process. I've also heard foster and adoptive parents sometimes attend and talk about their experiences. We also have to take a basic information form to this meeting that includes four people willing to vouch that we aren't completely nuts. Our four people very willingly said absolutely yes. I am very thankful there are people out there that don't think we're completely bonkers :)

-If we decide to move ahead with the process, we have to be fingerprinted, background checks are run, we get physicals, and we start the paperwork for a homestudy, a DHEC inspection and an inspection by the fire marshall. This could take months. Amazing how anyone can pop out a baby in any living condition, but it takes this much to adopt a child. I'm not bashing the system. That's just how it is. I know these rules are there to protect the children, especially the ones that need a better situation than they just left.

-If we pass all of that, social services begins presenting children to us (in the form of a presentation book). The child(ren) do not know they are being presented.

-I know nothing past that. I still don't know how I feel. I'm torn between "a child out there needs us, we want to help give a child a "normal" life, and it's the right thing to do." Then the tired part of me comes out when Tortoise and Hare start acting up. Then I think what if this messes up the balance in our house. Then I think how amazing this could be. Then I think-you selfish snot, get your head out of your ass, you always figure everything out and most of the time, end up doing the right thing. Don't over-analyze.

Time will tell....time will tell.... :)

Crazy or Not So Crazy Thoughts on Adoption

2010-08-02T15:02:00.002-04:00

Today's post is probably a surprise to most people. Mr. HR and I have two awesome kids, Tortoise (boy age 7 1/2) and Hare (girl age 4). We're the all American family. Two blondes, two brunettes. Life is hectic, the laundry never ends, but overall things are very good.

I've always mentioned adopting to Mr. HR. Reason #1: He's adopted. Reason #2: Have you seen the statistics of children needing homes?

Mr. HR has few strong opinions. No more than two kids was one of them. "Two kids, no more" I've heard since before we were engaged. Because he's so easy-going, I take his opinions seriously. When he says something, he means it. Other serious opinions include: #1: Mr. HR does not enter fabric stores. His mother took him into too many of them as a child. Several years ago, he pitched a fit in a parking lot on a 97 degree weather day. I left him in the car. #2: Saturdays are for Clemson football, even if there is a wedding or funeral. Mr. HR will find a tv or a ticket to a game. #3: If you stop at the gas station and you have a kid with you, they get candy. Even if they are being bad. (Grrrr...)

So I'm joking around with Mr. HR a couple of weeks ago and say something about how redneck we are because we have more dogs than kids. He looks at me and says, you know, I think we should adopt. I froze.

He wasn't kidding. After talking for a couple of hours, we agreed an infant isn't for us. We're past that, and there are plenty of couples that want a baby. Our kids are really easy-going and would love another person around, whether two years old or seven years old. Several days later, after more research, thinking and praying, we put in an email to social services. Because we are not interested in an infant, they called us immediately. We go to Orientation August 23rd. I'm scared, excited, nervous and who knows what else.

Stay tuned.

Hard Work Does Pay Off-this is not a post about craziness

2010-06-17T20:52:00.000-04:00

I've busted my @ss so far this year. Ok, I bust my @ss every year. My goal for 2010 was to meet 100 new business contacts. I should look at my list because I'm sure I'm past 100 by now. More new business calls, emails, meetings and proposals than any other year.

Are my billings where I want them to be yet? Getting close, but I would sleep a lot better once I get to "that number" consistently month after month.

Yesterday I drove to a town about 2 hours from here to visit two prospects. One signed on the spot, the other wants a proposal (hey, I'll take that). On the way home, the two prospects I visited last week both emailed me. One wants to meet after the holiday and get started. The other wants a mini-presentation to their owner on how we can get started on a few projects. I'll take it. So I treated myself and didn't even turn on my macbook last night. I turned Mr HRs laptop on instead and watched Confessions of a Shopaholic. I could be that girl if I had a trust fund :)

So, hopefully the hard work will land those two accounts within two weeks. Off to work on more new business! The crappy economy is NOT going to slow me down.

TMI

2010-06-15T18:30:00.000-04:00

So the nasty pull-up Hare filled up last night... Mr HR and I argued for fifteen minutes who would change it. He lost the argument due to his cast iron stomach and non-existent gag reflex.

However, Mr HR got lazy and didn't put the pull-up outside, just wrapped it up and put it in the bottom of the kitchen trash can. His ability to hide the evidence ended about 30 minutes ago. I came home from running an errand and Annie dog decided to empty the trash can onto the floor again. Nasty pull-up shredded ALL OVER THE FLOOR.

I closed the kitchen door and walked away. Mr HR will be home momentarily. Maybe he'll get rid of it this time.

Do You Know What CHAOS Stands For?

2010-06-14T19:56:00.003-04:00

CHAOS (according to Flylady.net)

Can't

Have

Anyone

Over

Syndrome

Yep, that's me.

About an hour ago, a friend from church called. "Crazy lady, it's time to work on the church website. And the committee wants you there to help with the content." Ok, I think, this is easy. I've been asked to do crazier things on church committees.

Then I hear this statement, "Let's all come to your house. You're so busy that way you don't have to go anywhere."

Mayday! Mayday!

Have you seen my house recently? No, you haven't. And if I don't find a cleaning service soon, I'll be on the next episode of 1. Hoarders 2. Clean Sweep or the annual 3. Quest to find the dirtiest house.

There is NO way I'm hosting the stay at home mom/web committee of the Presbyterian church.

Here's what I'm seeing as I type:

1. Hare, age 4, found a pull-up and decided she's no longer toilet trained. I don't know what they fed her at Bible school, but it stinks. Mr. HR will be home from Tae Kwon Do in approximately 8 minutes. I might be able to play dumb and go in the other room until he gets home. I am not good with dirty diapers on a 4 year old. Do you realize a 4 year old poops as much as a 37 year old?

2. Annie the dog is humping Howard the dog. Why? No one has those parts anymore since "the surgeries"...get over it.

3. Oscar is making out with the fuzzy brown pillow on the couch in my office. The synthetic hairball hacking will start around 9;45 pm ET.

4. Sam has a nervous tick and has been biting his rear end since 3:30pm

5. I have to mop because Annie emptied the trash can in the kitchen floor today.

Oh, there's Mr. HR now. I'm going to hide so he can find the stinky 4 year old. I just heard Tortoise, age 7 yell, Oh My Gosh! What smells? Maybe he wants to change the diaper. And Hare is now hiding under an end table..

To close the loop, I told the church friend I would love to get out of the house and will see her at her place later this week.

The Search for the Perfect Housekeeper

2010-06-09T21:11:00.003-04:00

Everything is going well these days. Mr HR and I are joking around a lot, getting along well. Kids are happy, dogs are crazy, business is picking up even more...however, there is a black cloud hanging over my head.

I'm not sure if I'm lazy, busy or what. Our house/laundry/clutter is out of control. It's never been this bad. I'm working all of the time. The kids are busy with Tae Kwon Do. And Mr HR has never been a neat freak to keep me in check. It's getting worse by the week. I used to keep just about everything picked up, and the house was always pretty much "unexpected company" ready.

It wasn't out of control until I fired the cleaning service. The day after my shoulder surgery, Mom walks in and asks me if I need a cleaning lady because she had never seen so much dust. The cleaning lady was there two days prior. Ouch.

So, I've put the word out we're hiring a housekeeper. Not just a cleaning lady. Someone who is going to come in here and keep this place in shape. Laundry, putting away kid clothing, cleaning, changing linens. Up to 3x per week. I'm gonna find her, I just know it. I'll keep you posted!

Bad Blogger!

2010-05-09T21:35:00.002-04:00

Dear Friends,

Sorry I haven't posted until now. The last post was about my crazy shoulder dislocation issue in the dressing room. Update from that point until now:

1. Made appointment with surgeon

2. Surgeon said-yep, you need surgery. Not just with a scope. I need to CUT YOU OPEN.

3. Scheduled MRI (Claustrophobic).

4. Had a freak out session in OPEN MRI machine. Thank goodness my Dad came with me and talked me through. Longest 42 minutes of my life :)

5. Scheduled surgery and was a grump thinking about it. (Scheduled surgery 8 weeks in advance. No one was having fun around me). I kept thinking about my poor shoulder being taken apart and twisted all over on the operating table.

6. Was operated on the last Friday in March. Tried to leave the hospital before the procedure three times. Mr. HR escorted me back to the gurney each time. Surgeon said three ligaments were torn and everything was loose. Not anymore.

7. Mr. HR weaned me off Lortab as fast as possible. If not, we would be working out alimony and custody arrangements. Apparently this crazy lady doesn't tolerate Lortab well and was very nasty to Mr HR who served me every meal on a tray for 8 days. I know, awful of me.

8. Rehab is going well and I was working again within 5 days. All that crazy drama for nothing.

Anyone stressed about shoulder surgery (everyone told me their horror stories) shouldn't be. Those stories come from wimps. I'm ready to rock on with my new bionic arm!

More about the business/kids/life shortly...glad to be back!

Good Year?

2010-01-11T21:21:00.005-05:00

Say it with me...2010 is going to be a good year...2010 is going to be a good year...

So far, it's been a crazy, but comical one.

Shoulder Disaster

I dislocated my shoulder in the dressing room of White House, Black Market. Do I know how? Absolutely not. It's been doing this for 14 years. Maybe I looked at the wrong way, maybe I gave my other arm more attention. Who knows? But it happened and it hurt like hell. One second I was admiring the smaller size jeans I was going to pack myself into, the next I heard the cha-chunk as the joint slipped out of place.

So I'm talking myself into seeing a surgeon. Maybe it's a quick fix?

You ask yourself, how is dislocating your shoulder comical? Because it would only happen to me in a crowded, upscale retail store. I'm half naked, yelling BAD words to myself, watching my twisted arm in the mirrow and thinking...Damn girl, you need to drop another 10 lbs...and that shoulder is ALL screwed up. And if I have to leave like this, a bunch of people are going to see way too much skin on this crazylady.

Mess Revisits

The house is a mess again. Well, the downstairs is. Mr. HR and I cleaned out the upstairs the last two weeks of the year. It looks like the kids moved out. Oh, but believe me, they didn't. They just moved all their crap downstairs. It didn't happen overnight. Stuff just started creeping downstairs (on its own I'm sure...)I'm going to stuff everything I can in garbage bags and hide it in the dumpster down the street. I swear I will. Even if it's Santa toys from Dec 2009.

Another Business Venture

I'm spinning off a division of my business, building some more resources around it with an old friend/client and hope to grow this into something good. And when do I have time to do this? 3rd shift maybe.

It's all a part of being CrazyAllOver.

Good Lawd Where Did the Clutter Come From?

2009-11-08T19:34:00.002-05:00

Mr. HR works a lot.

I work out of the house, in my car, in client's offices, wherever I can.

The one place I haven't been working is on the clutter, the laundry, the deep cleaning. There is clutter all over!

What are your tips for keeping clutter out of the house??

What a Difference a Sermon Makes

2009-10-11T19:09:00.002-04:00

For months, ok over a year, Mr. HR and I have been skipping church quite regularly.

First, the excuse was the house and all of the renovations at the DOC (dump on the corner we're renovating).

Second, I was super busy with work and used Sundays as catch up day.

Third, I have no idea. Bad habit we couldn't crack?

The underlying reason was this: we haven't felt connected at our church in a while. Nice, nice people, but the sermons weren't clear, we weren't leaving feeling renewed for the week, and it was draining to get the kids ready to only feel even more tired after the service.

Today was a new day. We visited a church close to our home, dropped the kids off at a huge children's worship complex on the campus and off to Karaoke church we went (words on the screen, a band, the whole nine yards). I was nervous. I'm used to tradition, the Gloria Patri, the Lord's Prayer at the same instant each week. What were we thinking? But something had to give. I was ready.

I cried twice during the service. I'm not a big crier. Once was when the pastor helped explain why there was no answer for my friend Elizabeth's death. All of the anger, all of the questioning was over. In an instant. I've struggled so long about her death and suddenly the struggle was gone.

The second was when an announcement was made a person who donated to a man in Kenya for years (you've seen the commercials how just the cup of coffee a day can save a life?) was reunited with the recipient last week. The donations saved the man's life and the Kenyan is studying to be a pastor to bring Christianity back to his country. Such a small effort made such a big impact. This statement made me realize it's the small things that matter most. I could list 500 little things here that went through my head today, but I won't bore you.

I feel great. The stress is off. I have a new perspective. What a difference. Amen.

We are headed to Disney this week. I hope I'll have funny stories for you on our return!!!

In With the Money, Out With Reality (and Manners)

2009-10-11T18:54:00.002-04:00

So I have this client. I haven't known him long, but he's always done well for himself from my background checks.

This year, he's come into a ton of money (unusual with the economy but he's one of the lucky ones). Apparently, when the money comes in, there is a return envelope where you send back all sense of reality and ALL of your manners.

Example 1: meeting two weeks ago: didn't agree with something he saw on the screen. Kicked a chair into a wall. That's a way to impress your team, dude. Isn't that fresh paint in your high-end conference room?

Example 2: Calls out one guy on his team repeatedly and degrades him like he's a street disease. Why do you get off on doing this? Do you really think it makes you more of a man? If you hate him, and you don't fire him, it's wasted energy talking to him that way. Hell, if he hasn't fired him, maybe I can ride this gravy train for a LONG time. I actually can get things done.

Example 3: Pays all of us good money to develop plans and work out details for his business. After a three day, actually productive team meeting, we presented solid recommendations. No feedback from him during the meeting, but the next day he called the guy in Example No. 2 above and told him all of our work was SH&% and that he could have come up with all of the work in an hour. Niiiiice. Don't tell the team. Be a coward. Once again. MANLY.

So...after stressing a little until yesterday on this, I've decided:

1. All of us on the team are better people than he could ever strive to be, even with his millions.

2. Apparently, he doesn't understand how things REALLY get done. You can't snap your fingers and get a business off the ground. It takes hard work, multiple opinions and experience.

3. His comments and nastiness actually humor me. Talk to me this way crazy man and there may be more than chairs hitting walls.

4. I would kick my husband or son if I ever found out they treated people this way.

and lastly...

5. The next time the money comes in, maybe he should just ask for a partial refund of his manners and reality. Anything would be an improvement!

Gotta love clients!

Thank You Christie

2009-10-03T22:12:00.003-04:00

Today is Mr. HR's birthday. We didn't do anything crazy but we did run errands, eat birthday cake with my parents and get takeout from Mr. HR's favorite Italian place. The kids were crazy but that's the usual.

Mr. HR was adopted when he was three days old. Every year since I met Mr. HR, I've always thought about his birth mother on his birthday. I wonder what she thought about giving up Mr. HR, grateful to her for giving birth to him versus the alternative, glad she gave him up so he would have more opportunities in life and giving him to a couple that wanted a baby more than anything who couldn't have one on their own.

Mr. HR found out his biological family history 2.5 years ago when he needed medical history. Christie was his biological mother's name. He found out Christie was very young when she became pregnant, was sent away during her pregnancy since she was the daughter of a preacher and that didn't look good for him or the family back then. He also found out she never mentioned trying to keep him, gave up a baby girl 22 months later at birth and kept her third child right before she turned 30.

Christie was killed accidentally by a gunshot during a camping trip right after her 30th birthday. We were both very upset to find out we would never meet her, but Mr. HR has talked with his half sister that was also given up and has met his half sister that was left behind when Christie was killed.

He knows being adopted was the best thing for him. He had opportunities only other kids could imagine.

So thank you Christie for getting him here safely. You missed knowing one of the best people and best dads I know. But somehow I know you already know that.

Goodbye, Rudy

2009-09-16T20:15:00.003-04:00

This year has been for the dogs. Literally.

Before Mr. HR and I got married in 1997, we acquired three, black and white, male Shih Tzus: Rudy (mine), Louie (his) and Fred (ours). They were Trouble with a capital T. Rolling the house with toilet paper, acting like rednecks in the yard barking at neighbors. The list goes on.

In February, Louie had a stroke and we had to put him to sleep. In July, Fred developed lung cancer and died two weeks after showing symptoms. And Monday, my precious Rudy joined them on the other side. Rudy had kidney failure, lost 50% of his body weight and was downright miserable. Our original vet missed it and by the time I got him to a second opinion, it was basically too late. I was able to keep him going for about 10 days from diagnosis. Part of me feels once Louie went, the others were ready to follow.

Deciding to end the life of an animal is the hardest thing I've ever done. Those five minutes from when you tell the vet you are ready to do it until the overdose shot is administered and the heart stops beating are the longest I've lived. This being the third time this year didn't make it any easier.

Rudy and I have been through it together: moving from grad school to an apartment after graduation, then on to move six more times as Mr. HR and I changed houses like underwear until we found what we really wanted. Rudy survived swallowing a make-up sponge, caffeine diet coke and a cotton ball (which resembles a python size snake during its exit), my pregnancies, and hiding from Tortoise and Hare. But I couldn't save him from Father Time and age.

His ashes are in an urn that matches his brothers', and he's sitting on the table next to me while I type. Although a grouchy little dog that only loved me and bit Mr. HR every chance he could get, the house is a little emptier with him gone.

Thanks for being mine and giving me 14 years of happiness being your owner. I'll miss you.

Have Dogs, Have No Money

2009-09-09T22:08:00.002-04:00

We're not a flashy family. Pretty nice house, nice cars, decent clothes.

However, we have four dogs. Yep, that's over the top. So, every time I turn around, I'm at the vet, shelling out my hard-earned dollars for meds, a check-up or something.

Our oldest dog, Rudy had dental work this week. He's pushing 14, is a grump of a Shih Tzu and would remove a digit from your body if he felt like it. However, I bought him in graduate school and he is MY dog. Don't mess with The Rudy or you're messing with the Crazy Lady.

Rudy has been losing weight and eating was becoming an issue. Our vet chalked it up to old age, but I knew better.

The second opinion vet looked in his mouth with gloves he reserves for the mean cats. YOWSA! I saw the vet figuring out his next vacation, sports car or large screen tv. He scheduled dental work for Tuesday. I cut a deal with soon to be rich vet. If the tooth falls out on its own while he's asleep, that "extraction" is free. Deal.

13 teeth pulled later, Rudy is slowly on the road to recovery. However, my bank account is hurting. I'm not complaining. He's been a great pet for this long. He deserves soft food and milkshakes during his remaining days.

The vet saved the teeth for me. Good thing Rudy doesn't have a clue about the tooth fairy or I might need a loan from one of you.

Crazy Lunch Duty: First Time is the Last Time

2009-09-04T19:12:00.002-04:00

Beginning of the school year is when the teacher hits you with multiple volunteer sign up sheets.

I agreed to watch the kids at lunch today so Tortoise's wonderful 1st grade teacher can eat in the teacher's lunchroom.

Last year, Tortoise's K5 classroom was CRAZY. Full of kids that never went to pre-school and didn't know how to sit still or be quiet. Bad, bad behavior problems. Protective gear was advised during lunch duty.

I thought to myself. This is 1st grade! These kids will know how to act. 25 minutes of supervision should be easy.

One little boy was under the table. Two kids beating each other in the head with the "talk/don't talk" cups. One little girl coughed as if she would test positive for TB. A little boy two tables over puked all over the place then yelled out, "I don't wanna go home. DON'T call my MAMA. I won't puke anymore." Another boy was using nibblet corn to cap his teeth.

Tortoise's teacher walked up 25 minutes later. I found the closest hand sanitizer station and ran like hell!

Since I'm the room mother and coordinate volunteers, I will find a substitute for my next assigned lunch duty day. No thank you!

Crazy Break in the Legal System

2009-08-18T14:23:00.002-04:00

This crazy lady is on her soapbox today, folks.

A friend of mine has a little boy about the age of Tortoise. They take marital arts together and have become fast friends. I noticed the little boy gets a far off look in his eye, and before Tortoise became his buddy, he would get upset in class very easily if he messed up during a training session.

One day my friend, we'll call her Little E, confided her ex-husband attempted to kill her and her son several years ago. Stashed 20 guns throughout his house. Made the little boy lay face down on the couch while he tried to get the mother in the house to hurt her.

Instead of going to jail, the ex-husband was carted off to a mental hospital. In addition to his freedom, he now has overnight visitation rights as well. Little E is a nervous wreck every time her son is with the ex. I can understand why. He begs not to go and stays upset days before it's time to see his Dad.

Last week, the Dad was to have the son for a week, according to their court orders. The second evening, the son called Little E crying on the phone-Dad's not thinking right, he's had me pinned down on the ground with my arms behind my back. Help, please come pick me up.

By court order, she can't pick him up there. They meet in neutral territory. Luckily, the Dad brought him back the next day b/c he was tired of dealing with the son.

Why does our legal system allow these situations to continue? Why won't anything get done until someone becomes a statistic? My mind and heart are heavy, still thinking about my friend Elizabeth who was killed, due to a kink in the legal system (see earlier post). But a child? Already traumatized once before?

When is the court system going to grow some balls and tell a parent-you lost your sh%$ once. It's over. You are crazy. You don't deserve visitation. Your child is scared shitless of you. Go away.

So any suggestions you can throw my way, I'm game. I have no idea how to help, but I feel in my heart I can and should do something. God is putting these people in my path. I don't need a bigger sign than that.

It's Even Crazy at the Beach

2009-08-12T17:21:00.002-04:00

Although this was the summer we were going to stay home and not vacation, at the last minute my parents rented a condo for the week and invited us. Very nice.

It's been a good week so far. Tortoise came out of his shell and found the resort water slide. He's been down the slide at least 50 times. Ok, maybe 60 times in 4 days. This is the same child that wouldn't go under water last summer, claiming he could drown in the kiddie pool. My Dad, Buzz, is 64 and is attempting to catch up with Tortoise. He's been down 27 times and has only popped two Celebrex for pain so far :)

Hare enjoys digging in the sand and is so tan, she's beginning to look non-caucasian. Too cute.

Today, as I was just thinking...wow, this has been great. It's hot but not unbearable. I'm able to relax a little in-between clients zinging me on my blackberry. Then, I hear an ambulance pull up to the resort. Because I have on my rose-colored glasses, I assume heat exhaustion and went back to observing the crazies at the pool (I was watching Tortoise on the water slide again). Then another ambulance. Then a helicopter. Mr. HR and Hare are on the beach. People are crowding an area about 100 feet wide on the beach.

I walk up to a stranger and ask what's wrong. She said, "Someone went under and they can't find them." I panic. Where is Mr. HR? Where is Hare? We all know she's a daredevil. I yell for Tortoise and we run back to the beach.

I walk up to Mr. HR and Hare and he said he saw a man swimming way too far out in the ocean. A waiter from an oceanside restaurant saw him struggling and ran to the lifeguard. No one can find him. My heart aches. My stomach hurts. What if his family is watching him struggle? What if they can't find him at all? Ten minutes. Fifteen minutes. Twenty minutes. The helicopter leaves. The wave runners stop. The emergency teams are standing on shore looking around. WHY CAN'T THEY FIND HIM? I keep praying, tears flowing. This is awful.

We walk back to the condo, shaken and still worried. I look online. The swimmer swam to shore before they realized he was out of the ocean. Son of a bitch. I'm glad he's fine, but he aged me another six months! Whew!

So friends, no matter where I go, there is CrazyAllOver.

Missing Elizabeth

2009-08-02T22:46:00.002-04:00

Most of my blog entries are an attempt to be funny about the craziness in my life.

Consider yourself warned. This one isn't funny, is very long, and it's on my crazy mind.

After graduating from college, I took the summer off to work, then went right back into graduate school. I really, really thought it was going to be a cake walk. Wrong. My masters program was Industrial Management, which I describe as half operations/half MBA. Tons of group projects, papers, research. Woah. Social life went on hold for 16 months.

I was very concerned I was going to be the only female in the program until Elizabeth walked in the door. She was a good bit older than me (11-12 years) and college/graduate school was a second career for her after working for 10 years. We were total opposites. I was girlie, into the latest and greatest clothes, etc. Elizabeth wore jeans and Eddie Bauer shirts almost every day. Drove a 2 door old Blazer. She was a hard worker, so grounded, and struggled every step of the way for what she had. Although very different, we became fast friends.

Those 16 long months of hell in graduate school were grounds for us being bonded for life. Elizabeth even came home with me for Thanksgiving. Her family was traveling that year, so we stuffed ourselves, researched the sale papers and shopped at 5:30am the next day for Christmas bargains. Again, although opposites, still close.

After graduation, Mr. HR and I became engaged. I immediately asked Elizabeth to be in our wedding. She declined being a bridesmaid. "Margaret (her nickname for me-another story), you know how I look in a dress. I already have to put a gold one on for my sister's wedding later in the year. I'll be an honorary bridesmaid, sit on the front row so I'll have a great seat, and I will help you do whatever you need me to."

That was perfect. She called photographers for me, made up a "gifts received" book, and bought us our first piece of silver, a cheese knife that only comes out on special occasions.

The wedding came and went. Elizabeth and I talked less and less. No particular reason why. She had a long commute. I worked in ad agencies and ran crazy hours. Then the babies came. Less and less communication.

One summer, we met up for lunch. I brought Tortoise and Hare. Hare stared at her (she was only 4 months old at the time.) Tortoise talked about his recent stomach virus the entire time. Elizabeth asked as many questions as he wanted, which was big points with Tortoise. My kids were in love with this lady who thought they were so wonderful. We promised to meet up again soon. Elizabeth looked tired, as if something was going on in her life. But we had not seen each other in a while, so I didn't pry.

Fast forward to November 28, 2007. Our phone rang at 6am. It was my Mom. She was crying on the phone and asked me to turn on the news. I did and immediately saw Elizabeth's face on the screen. Her father had killed her, her sister and himself the day before. Elizabeth and her sister went to court with her mother to get a restraining order against their father because of alcoholism and abuse. The restraining order was granted, the father acted out in court and the family left. Two hours later, while the family was eating at Elizabeth's grandparent's house, the front door opened. Her dad opened fire, chased Elizabeth through the yard and the second bullet he put in her sent her to the hospital. She died shortly afterwards. All alone.

I walked around in a daze. Why her? I thought I still had more time with Elizabeth. She was working closer to our house now. There were more lunch dates to come. My kids would grow up with her around. But no more. My most grounded friend was gone.

I truly feel every experience is a lesson in our lives. The lesson in this for me is this: don't put off what you can do today when it comes to the people you love. Call that friend. Send them a text. Drop them a line if you have a second. Find time to see them. Make sure you stay connected any way you can.

I miss her everyday, and I'll admit her death put a permanent hole in my heart. She's come to me in several dreams and let me know she's ok. The last time I saw her in my dream she said she had to get back, that it was steak night (she was a big steak eater). Although funny, it made me feel better....

Not Just Crazy, but also Stupid at 36

2009-07-30T20:57:00.003-04:00

Most people say by the time you're in your 30s, you are starting to figure things out...

Of course, I'm crazy, but at the young age of 36, I'm really starting to think I know just about everything.

I've been really stressed recently. Really stressed. Waking up during the night, thinking about my to-do list. The business is doing really well, and I'm having a tough time getting it all done without any of my clients finding out how much work I have to do for all of my other clients. :)

I'm having allergy tests performed on Friday, so no Benadryl cocktail to sleep this week or it will mess up the tests. Since I know just about everything, I decided to resort to: a little chocolate ice cream and some tequila.

Why? Ice cream makes everyone feel better, and tequila makes me sleep like a babeeeeee.

Wrong. The mixture of those two ingredients causes massive cramping and diarrhea. Been up since 2am. Haven't lost a pound from it. Of course I've weighed myself at least 8 times.

Told everyone I have a stomach bug, but I think I know better. Just plain stupidity.

3600 square feet and nowhere to hide...

2009-07-29T21:20:00.004-04:00

I think I'm coming a little unglued this week.

Work is piling up, and we're headed to the beach in 10 days. Stress.

I'm an only child, so space, quiet and privacy are three things I MUST have to be sane. Blame it on my parents, they didn't produce a second child.

Our house is around 3600 square feet, and there are two children in this house with personal space issues. I can walk to the bathroom, shut the door and hear, "MOM, PLEASE MAY WE COME IN?? PLEASE??"

No.

I walk outside to check the mail. Two kids right behind me.

Went upstairs to put away laundry. Here comes Hare, "whatcha doing?"

Don't get me wrong. I love my kids more than anything. Even more than pasta. But when I'm stressed, I need some SPACE.

I had a great idea. Tortoise is ready for bed. Hare is watching a short video. I'll go hide in the bathroom and work. No lights, just sit on the floor. Peace and quiet. Only child days are back.

Ahhh...

No such luck. Forgot to lock the door. It's been 90 seconds. Busted. Lights now on. Two dogs in the bathroom. One just took off with the toilet paper. The other is trying to sit on the computer. Hare chasing the puppy with her brother's electric toothbrush telling me it will brush his hair faster than using his hairbrush. Lord, help me.

I'll keep looking for hiding places. Until then, maybe I just need a quick cocktail to take things down a notch. Then the space issue won't be such a big deal.

Have Garage, Need Thieves

2009-07-23T19:07:00.004-04:00

Our house has a garage only attached by a small breezeway. The house was the model for the neighborhood 25 years ago, and back then, that was "the thing".It drives me nuts. Some days I'm tempted to put up plywood (redneck style) to close it in so I don't have to get fully dressed to get something out of the garage. One day, I went out in something not so decent. You would know a neighbor saw me, waved and honked the horn. Nice.

Several days ago I posted how Mr. HR isn't the most proactive with home improvement/maintenance projects. I love Mr. HR very much, but I was raised by Father Neatness (Buzz). Buzz vacuums his garage and the engines of his cars. I was the only kid in the neighborhood that had to put the basketballs in filing cabinets so they didn't roll around on the ground. My last boyfriend of high school parked his garage in our driveway with cardboard underneath it so oil wouldn't leak on our driveway. Buzz told him that was the only way he could remain on property.

In our marriage, Mr. HR takes care of the outside of the house, I handle the inside (even if that means calling the cleaning lady). B/c the garage is semi-attached, it is HIS territory.

Here's the issue. The garage has turned into a POD. Dumping ground. Unruly storage unit. Absolutely nasty. He straightened it two weeks ago, but nothing left the garage. That means it will all dance around and will be a hazardous area again very soon.

I'm secretly hoping someone will come in and take a few things. Maybe 15 rolls of wrapping paper. Or a leftover box of hardwood flooring. All of our holiday yard inflatables. 5 types of weed killer that definitely haven't been sprayed in the yard. Something. Help a woman out.

Although I could get in there and take care of it, I'm juggling kids, house, a business and life. Any suggestions on getting it cleaned out once and for all before I have to advertise on craigslist I'm looking for a thief?

Calgon...Take Me Away from the Craziness!

2009-07-22T17:44:00.003-04:00

Wow, what a week.

Have you ever had a week where you had tons to do and no time to get it all done? That is my week this week. Tons of projects going on. Tons of meetings, therefore tough to get work done.

(Thankful for the work...always).

On top of everything, Mr. HR is out of town for a day or two. I am not cut out to be in a one parent household these days. All of you single parents out there, I think you are rockstars...

So today after a meeting, I had it all planned out: I would knock out a ton of work this afternoon.

Wrong. Here's why:

1. Just about every good friend I have called to tell me something crazy. You can't ignore those calls. Some days all you have are your friends.

2. Sam the dog saw Meowy, our resident stray cat, outside the door. As soon as I attempted to slip outside to get something out of my car, Sam took off. Chased Meowy all over hell and back. We live next to a busy road, and Sam decided to head up there to chase a few cars once Meowy out ran him. I'm in 3-inch heels, carrying my blackberry screaming at the top of my lungs..."SAM! SAM! Oh God, please don't get creamed by a distracted mini-van driver." I just lost Fred a month ago. I can't do this again. Did I mention it's raining, too? I look so cool doing all of this.

Minutes (felt like hours) later, we're back inside. I bust Sam's butt multiple times. He's still pouting. I am too. That was ridiculous.

3. Just about every client I have called today, wanting something done. Maybe I should add Professional Juggler to my business card. Where were you guys 60 days ago? :)

4. Howard the puppy has been chewing almost every electrical cord in this house. Anyone wanna take bets how many days until Howard's hair is charred and very curly?

5. My daughter is singing My Poker, My Poker, My Poker face at the top of her lungs. I guess she can't get the song out of her head, either. The first time I heard it I woke up multiple times at night with the song in my head. Felt trapped in a music video.

The beach is 2 1/2 weeks away. I'm ready! Hope you are having a much more productive week than me!

Fear of a MIA Babysitter

2009-07-20T21:08:00.002-04:00

Our sitter this summer is a young lady headed to med school in August. She comes over several times a week and takes the kids to the pool so I can work out of my home office.

Something seems to happen every time she walks in the door that just doesn't seem normal. I babysat for years and crazy stuff didn't happen when I walked in the door for my jobs.

Examples of what goes on at our house:

1. Tortoise runs through the house with a sword. Chasing a dog. PETA will probably be called within 24 hours of this post.

2. Hare comes screaming through the house, begging for a pull-up. She's 3 1/2 and refuses to dump in the toilet. She has to unload in a pull-up and can do in about 7 seconds flat. That's a whole other blog entry...

3. Tortoise lets all four dogs out so they can run through the house and attack the sitter (why? I just spent 10 minutes rounding them up in their dog room). Tortoise just chuckles.

4. Our puppy, Howard, runs through the house with dirty underwear.

5. Tortoise wacks Hare in the head with the same sword he was using to scare the dog.

6. My email makes a noise at the same time as my blackberry buzzes, then the home phone rings.

What's the deal? I know you're thinking "oh it's just life, honey, get over it", but I'm starting to wonder.

I ask the sitter today, "Be honest. Is this babysitting gig good, bad, or what? I need some feedback here..."

She replies, "It's crazy."

Sigh.

Timelines not in synch-craziness!

2009-07-19T16:45:00.003-04:00

This post will get me in trouble. Big trouble. Mr. HR reads my blog when he remembers the URL. This post is about him.

Mr. HR and I have been married almost 12 years. Mr. HR is not the most proactive person with housework, yardwork and other maintenance-related items. A usual weekend day is like this:

Me: Are you going to cut the grass? the HOA will be after us again. (I don't cut grass. Wasp stings send me to the ER)

Mr. HR: I'll do it this weekend.

Sunday 7:30pm-grass still not cut.

Me: Hey, the security system is acting up. Will you call the company since the acct is in your name and you're headed out of town so this can be repaired before we're in the house without you?

Mr. HR: yeah, I'll call and see if they can come out this week while I'm out of town.

Am I the only person that thinks that is a little off?

I can go on and on with examples, but not sure where it will get me. What I do want to know is this: how do you communicate to your spouse that certain things are important to you (not everything, no one is perfect) and that dragging your feet just causes more problems?

I'm not the only crazy lady out there dealing with this. Believe me, I hear it everyday from friends. And we're all tired of the timelines for tasks not being in-synch! Bring on the suggestions!

Little Timmy's Mama Wasn't So Crazy After All

2009-07-15T22:04:00.003-04:00

Rewind back to 1994. I was home for the summer and wanted an easy day job b/c I was taking a philosophy/ethics class at night.

My boyfriend at the time had a neighbor (Ms. Realtor) that needed a daytime nanny for her two youngest boys, ages 7 and 9.

Back then, I was little Miss Perfect. Organized. Laundry caught up. Studied in advance.

I walked into the family's house to babysit and was APPALLED. Ms. Realtor's laundry was piled mile-high. No milk in the fridge. Little Timmy out of underwear. Garage a mess. Everyday, I came home and reported to my Mom, "those POOR kids." Ms. Realtor just can't keep up. I even did a load of laundry today so Little Timmy would have some drawers.

Fast forward 16 years. Our sitter, Miss Sarah comes over. Laundry piled mile-high. No juice in the fridge. Tortoise out of beach towels for the pool. Garage a mess.

No comment.

Craziness is a Week Together

2009-07-02T21:13:00.002-04:00

Mr. HR's plant is closed this week. In an effort to save money this year, we decided to take short day trips 1-2 days during the plant shutdown instead of splurging for a beach condo, a dog sitter and multiple trips out to dinner at the beach.

We're also mourning the loss of Fred, our beloved dog, I mentioned in an earlier blog. Sweet Fred had advanced lung cancer and was gone within two weeks of first showing symptoms. Six weeks ago he was kicked out of the groomer for barking for three hours. Wow, time flies...

I had high hopes for this week. Yard work, garage clean-outs, sleeping in and father/children bonding sessions and lots of fun. However, the moon must be full all week.

The kids are wild crazy.

They've been taken on trips, 2-3 hour visits to the pool, played with like crazy and they WILL NOT calm down. Mr. HR now sees why I look 58 when I'm only 36 by 5pm. It's absolutely nuts.

Tonight at dinner, Mr. HR said, "I'm looking forward to going to work on Monday. It's nice to have a week off, but spending this much time together with wild kids is wearing me out."

Thanks, Mr. HR. Join the club. I am looking forward to work on Monday, too. Oh wait, my office is here...

Post-Reunion Dementia!

2009-06-21T22:28:00.003-04:00

The family reunion is over!

I thoroughly enjoyed it, although my @ss is thoroughly worn out from all of the preparing, entertaining, planning and cleaning. We all had a great time!

However, now I am slightly concerned the dementia some of my older relatives now have is rubbing off on me. (is dementia contagious? :) Here are reasons for my concern:

1. I hid a pan of brownies in our kitchen so I wouldn't eat them on Saturday. Did not find them for 24 hours. Just ate two. Holy Moses they are good!

2. Did not notice my 3 yr daughter was feeding our dog Oscar off or my plate with another fork, then dipping the fork back into my remaining food. Apparently, this had been going on for 5 minutes. Ick! I just shuddered again thinking about it.

3. Asked Mr. HR to hold our sick dog, Fred. Five minutes later, asked Mr. HR, "where the hell is Fred? He's sick and shouldn't be hiding from us." Oops.

Maybe I'm tired, or maybe I should get a brain scan that shows this "dementia issue" I'm concerned about. ha!

Family Reunion Craziness Eve

2009-06-18T20:49:00.002-04:00

Well friends, it's finally here.

Two years ago in an non-air conditioned room in a cousin's church gym, I agreed to host this year's family reunion (we plan YEARS in advance). Why? Because I'm crazy.

My father leaned over during my act of volunteerism and said, "No worries, you probably won't have to have it. Most of these people could be dead by then." Good going Buzz (as my kids call my father), they are ALL still kicking. And all you're bringing is tea and watermelon. I'm kidding, Buzz. I appreciate your contribution.

So, starting tomorrow, I'm entertaining about 40 relatives at a restaurant on Friday night, and our neighborhood clubhouse for lunch and dinner on Saturday. Basically, it's a feeding frenzy for 36 hours. People eat, then leave. Then come back and eat some more. And take a few pictures to show we're all getting bigger with age. Then there's that one cousin that researches genealogy and told me tonight that she found out information about a family murder from the 1800s. I CANNOT wait to hear that craziness. :) That will be our excitement after Saturday night dinner.

So, if you're in my neck of the woods on Sunday, I'll have one huge set of leftovers. Stop on by to hear the stories...I know there will be plenty of crazy ones!

Crazy Tuesday

2009-06-16T19:32:00.004-04:00

Friends,

I'm TIRED. Here was Tuesday's schedule:

-7am-Hare wakes up and finds me on the toilet. She remarks,"Look at that belly!" Thanks, Hare. Santa isn't coming to see your @ss this year. Your comments don't get me down. I have Spanx and could drop those 10 lbs if I really wanted to push away from the table...

-9:30 am meeting with prospect. Meeting turned into a request for a proposal for a big consulting project. Good start. Keep going Crazy Lady....

-11 am meeting to finish two proposals for a client of 10 years. Done! On a roll!

-2pm meeting with a friend that started a huge sales job. He needs all kinds of help to keep him selling, so we discussed a sweet deal for him (and me). Wow, I'm on fire!

-4pm, picked up the kids from Mom's. Came home for a breather before Tortoise's Tae Kwon Do class.

Uh oh. Schedule change. Alert, friends. Schedule change.

We walk in and Fred the dog was giving me the look. He's 12, very healthy otherwise and loves to bark. But Fred hasn't barked here in a week. Breathing funny all weekend. Barely eats. Saw the vet yesterday with no symptoms then (mental problems maybe?) And did I mention breathing funny again? We had to put his soul mate, one-eye Louie, to sleep in February after cancer and a stroke. Fred hasn't been the same since.

Dropped off Tortoise at Tae Kwon Do, threw Hare in the car and off to the vet we go with Fred. Two x-rays, barium, blood work and a shot later, we're home. ($$$$$$$$-afraid of the bill) No answers yet. But Fred the dog is not doing well. Keep your fingers crossed I can respond to the new business requests from today and stay out of the vet tomorrow!

Hare is asleep, so maybe I can exhale now to avoid her "belly comments" the rest of the night!

Does Jesus Hand Out Eviction Notices?

2009-06-13T14:01:00.002-04:00

I highly doubt it, but if he is ever tempted, we might get one after what happened in church last Sunday. It's taken me this long to process the craziness and be able to put it in writing.

I'll admit, we don't go to church EVERY single Sunday. We are getting better, but we're not perfect.

On the way to church, Mr. HR says to the children, "Let's not wiggle in church or talk out loud. If you have to say something, whisper it quietly and use the busy bags the church leaves out for you guys to color and draw. Church is ONLY an hour." That hour seemed like an eternity.

We walk in, choose the third pew from the back and sit down. Hare leans over and says outloud, "I won't say FART or TOOT in church. If I have to fart, I'll just do it but not tell you." My face turned purple. Where did that come from? The people in front of us giggle and we go on. Ok, strike one.

Ten minutes later, the pew starts squeaking. Not just if a child moves. If a child BREATHES. Squeak. Moan, Creak. Maybe it's one of those noises only we hear, and no one else will notice.

My friend several pews up turns around and rolls her eyes. Oh crap, people really can hear it. How am I going to get the kids to stop breathing for the next 50 minutes?

The offering plate comes by later. Tortoise (who can be a little selfish) has two dollars in his pocket and some change from Mr. HR. He tries to keep the dollars and dump in the change. Mr. HR shakes him down right there to turn in the paper money. After the plate goes by, Hare asks loudly, "How does Jesus get the money?" Oh my. More laughter behind us. I'm mortified.

It's the first Sunday of the month, and like all other Presbyterians, it's Communion Sunday. The kids are new to staying all the way through the service (trying to not go to Children's Church). As the elders start passing the bread and grape juice throughout the congregation, I hear Tortoise tell Hare, "Hey, snacks are coming. I see them on the plate. Look, there's juice right behind the snacks." Now I'm laughing. Shaking so I don't make a sound. You know Jesus is getting frustrated at this point. At our church, we wait until everyone has bread before we eat it. Hare is chanting as we hold our bread,"Eat it, eat it, what are you waiting for? Aren't you hungry?" Now I'm going to choke. Or pass out.

Oddly enough, no one spoke to us as we left. Maybe because we jerked up both of the kids and made a beeline for the parking lot.

Not sure we're going tomorrow. Everyone, maybe even Jesus, needs a break.

Lazy, Not Crazy Days of Summer are Here!

2009-06-05T21:10:00.002-04:00

Today was the first official day of summer in our house. Tortoise finished K5 yesterday, so to celebrate we did what he wanted to do today.

1: sleep in (he's a teenager trapped in a 6 yr old body)

2. have macaroni and cheese for lunch and

3: go see Up! the movie.

If you haven't seen the movie, I highly recommend it. The 3D version is here, so we decided to see it. It was great. Not only a good movie for children, but lots of lessons for adults, too. This Crazy lady shed tears several times during the movie.

One thing I did think was crazy: two tickets to the 3D matinee, a hotdog for Tortoise (the boy can put away the food) and a coke was $31.00 YIKES!

What are you going to do these first days of Summer?

This Crazy Doesn't Wear a Suit!

2009-06-02T18:26:00.003-04:00

So I mentioned yesterday work was slower than normal for me. This happens when you are a company of one. Things go crazy for months, then you get to take a breather. Most days you'll see me in jeans at my desk in my home office, having a grand ole time, enjoying the peace and quiet while the kids are at school. Suits are my wardrobe of the past.

Yesterday, a recruiter called me. He found my resume somewhere and wanted to talk with me about a job (as a recruiter for their company). My mind races....wow, how flattering, uh, how much does this pay, then the bigger fear...structure, 8am-5pm, corporate clothes, an elevator, parking garage, the works. Suits. NOOOOO. Holy crap, I'm going into meltdown mode.

Then I snap back to reality. Ok, we're in a recession, keep your options open, honey.

I agree to the interview and find something to wear. (Side note: Mr. All the Way called while I was getting ready. Mr. All the Way is my buddy from school 1st-12th grades. We never did go all the way, but his Mom used to tell people we did, meaning attended school together. I don't think she realized what she was saying. Too funny!) While I was telling Mr. All the Way about my week and this interview, I stepped in a pile of you know what from Sam, the dog with issues this week (see yesterday's post). I didn't tell Mr. All the Way I spent most of our conversation swearing under my breath and cleaning poo off my stilletos, but he will know when he reads this).

Alright, so I park in the parking garage and ride up the elevator. Nine....tall floors. Out walks Mr. Recruiter in you guessed it, a suit. We talk for about an hour. Great guy, very structured. Wants a 60+ hour/week person for the job. I swore to him that wasn't me. I could get the job done (before kids), but in more like 30 hours (if you want me today, b/c I'm efficient). When I was convinced this would end the madness, he asked if he could call me Friday for interview #2. Grrrr.

No offense anyone, I'm not the structured corporate type anymore. No suits for me~ Now I'm even more motivated to get more contract work for myself to avoid having the corporate suit interview ever again :)

Foreshadowing, Compliments of the Swiffer WetJet Mop

2009-06-01T19:42:00.005-04:00

It was a rare Monday for me. Work slowed down (temporarily I hope), so I kept Hare home with me today. We ran errands in between client calls, one errand which was a trip to our lovely Target.

For some reason, I was drawn to the Swiffer WetJet Mop. I've never owned one, but the commercials were on all weekend. I'm a marketing person, so of course it's the easiest out there. It went in the cart with the loot from the $1 bin.

I brought the mop home and thought that mop will be a good thing to have if we ever have a big mess on our hands...famous last thoughts...

Later, after more errands, I came home to find Sam the Shih-Tzu decided to do the Stanley Steemer commercial scoot all over our kitchen tile. Breaking out the WetJet now...

I can't be mad at Sam. After being trapped in the laundry basket yesterday, maybe he just has Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder!

Ugh!

Happy Monday!

Gladiators Live!

2009-05-31T16:32:00.002-04:00

You know the show, American Gladiators, right?

No need to turn the tv on here to watch it. It's LIVE in our house today.

My son, who is six (Tortoise) and my daughter, who is three (Hare) are full steam ahead.

Side note: I'm on only child, so I don't remember things getting this lively in my house. My dad let me put hair bows in his hair so I would be quiet while he watched t.v. during football season. That was as wild as it got in our house back then. :)

First, my husband (Mr. HR) and I were folding clothes in our bedroom downstairs. Yes, he folds clothes. Mr. HR is a good guy. The children are giggling in the den next door. It gets quiet for a minute. Then suddenly we hear WHACK! SCREAM (our son). He comes flying into our room holding his head, tears going everywhere. He yells, "SHE HIT ME IN THE HEAD WITH THAT VASE OF NANA'S!" That's bad news. The "Nana vase" is METAL, is heavy and was her wedding gift in 1945 (therefore an antique). I'm very surprised she didn't knock him out cold or kill him. While I'm checking for blood, knots and having Natasha Richardson tragedy flashbacks, Mr. HR grabs up Hare and asks her why she did it. She said, "He wasn't talking to me." Whew, she better find an attentive husband that reacts quickly one day or she may end up in jail. She was punished but I won't say how. Such debates on time out versus spankings these days....

Second, our dog Oscar was missing. He's a 9 lb Brussels Griffon (remember the dog in the Jack Nicholson movie, As Good as it Gets? Same type of dog.) Oscar is very tolerant, but has his limits. Mr. HR and I go looking for Oscar and find him in Hare's grocery cart, being pushed around the house as fast as Hare can run. WHEEEE! The inside of our house is a circle, so she was having a blast, making loops. She even planned ahead and padded the bottom of the cart with a towel so his little feet wouldn't fall through. Poor Oscar's eyes are bulging out of his head and he's making that loud snorting sound. Tortoise is cheering her on-FASTER, FASTER. He recovered from his head injury by then and was her best friend again. Notice he was cheering but wasn't running around, that's why we call him the Tortoise. Oscar puked five minutes later and is bonding with absolutely no one after that.

About 20 minutes later, I see a large laundry basket being pushed across the hardwoods. It's Tortoise and Hare again, cheering on Sam, the Shih Tzu. They tricked him with treats and trapped him in the laundry basket (flipped upside down). He was being pushed all over the house. I swear we don't torture animals. What is going on here?

Fourth, I don't know yet. Mr. HR took them to the pool so I could "get myself together" for the week. Here's hoping for two tired out little kiddies without a Gladiator sequel tonight!

Maybe My Life is Sexy?

2009-05-30T21:09:00.003-04:00

Just heard on the new Lifetime show, Maneater

"Crazy is the new sexy."

Oh, OK. Whatever you say. It made me laugh. Maybe it is true. :) If so, then WOW, I am WAY SEXY! haha.

Side note: Not sure if this show will be around long-term. Why? My theory is that if a show opens with a song that matches the name of the show (bad rendition of Hall & Oates 80s classic), it will get canned super fast because it's way cheesy and the name of the show is the only thing going for it.

Ten Minute Trainer

2009-05-30T08:07:00.003-04:00

This morning, my son (let's call him the Tortoise) was in our bed watching tv. This is typical. He's 6 but may never leave the nest. So far I'm ok with that. Check back in 20 years.

I'm dozing and he's listening to something carefully. Then I feel his finger poke my ribs.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Mom, I've been watching this Ten Minute Trainer Commercial. You should get this. It only takes ten minutes a day. You're busy, but it would make your jeans would fit better. And see that lady's belly? It used to look like yours. Now her jeans fit really well."

I have no comment. Except, tv rights in MY bedroom are OVER.

The Text Message Stalker

2009-05-29T21:51:00.000-04:00

True story.

A guy I work with is a text message stalker. He found out I have unlimited text on my Blackberry, so now instead of a quick phone call, it's more like:

8:29 am Hey

8:30 am Are you there?

8:45 am Do you want to meet for coffee? Ok, you don't drink coffee, but I have a Fiji waiting for you. The big size.

8:47 am I left you a voice mail just now. Check it please. Is everything ok?

8:52 am Is something wrong? Call me. I'm headed into the office.

So I call to end the madness. Goes straight to vm. Probably text message stalking someone else.

Damn! I can't keep up while driving my daughter to pre-school. Starting to feel like I have a high school predator instead of a client. Maybe ADD drugs would help. Maybe amputating his thumbs would be better. Do you think Verizon has a way to block him from texting me? Would he go crazy? I know my life would be much calmer (haha).

Crazy All Over

2009-05-29T21:39:00.000-04:00

Why Crazy All Over?

The theme comes from my sorority sister, Clemsongirl. She thought this blog should be called Crazy All Around, but that name was taken. (Good idea, Clemsongirl. You pointed me in the right direction). Another friend from a former job labeled me as Crazy Bitch in her cell phone. She told me the other day when I call, she laughs. It's all good :)

My Facebook posts are usually about the latest chaos with a client, a child, dogs, or a combination of them. Hopefully blogging will help me remember all of the craziness that I endure and find absolutely hilarious.

Stay tuned. It's going to be crazy. :)