Let Me Count the Ways

Loving my new iPhone is not wrong. 

It is not frivolous. 

It's practical.

It really, really is. 

Honest.

It can single handedly organize my whole entire life.  I think that every single person in the world should have an iPhone...and if I'm ever in the running for the title of Miss America that will be my answer to any question I'm asked.  I know it sounds a little ridiculous to anyone who doesn't have one.  But these are all the practical reasons why I love my iPhone...

1.  Every time I buy a new book, it's like a little love affair begins.  It might be silly, and I'm a little embarrassed to admit, but I like the smell of ink on the page.  That smell can take me back to a million different loves.  But, every time that a book is made a tree dies.  Some people believe that trees were made so that books could exist.  But imagine this...we no longer have to make books.  We no longer have to cut down trees.  We can read books on our phones with iBooks.  For a fraction of the price.  I no longer have to fork over $20 for a book.  How many times have you been stuck in a waiting room with a whole bunch of magazines from 1998?  Or forgot to throw your book in your purse before you left the house?  These are no longer problems.  Sure the love affair will die, but that's okay because I'm in love with my phone.   

2.  It's become a bonding experience for me and Q.  Sure, you can bond with your kid during bowling nights or reading them bed time stories.  Or you can buy an iPhone.  We really like the Glee App.  We can sing *Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star* at the top of our lungs and then play it back and listen to us sing.  We giggle and smile and hopefully, this is what memories that last a lifetime are made of.  I know I'll remember.

3.  For those of us (ahem) who have a difficult time budgeting, there is the BudgetTool that has cool looking colour coded pie charts.  You plug in your numbers and it shows you what you should be spending in each category (ie: rent/mortgage) every month based on your salary.

There's more.  Of course, there's more.  There are games for me (my fav: scrabble), there are games for Q (his fav: air hockey), a GPS (say 'hello' to never getting lost again!!), my whole music library, an HD camera and video.  It's convenience in my hand.  I always have my phone with me.  If I feel moved to take a picture of something, anything...it's in my hand.  It's right there.  If I forget to put my watch on, big deal...I have my phone. 

And then, there are gems like this.  When you least expect it, a surprise from the one you love the most. 

 

Confessions

You know when you're afraid to admit something because it might jinx things?  Like when you say, "Wow, the boys haven't had one soccer game in the rain this season!!"  and then it rains for the next four Saturdays in a row?  Ya.  Or when you say, "I haven't had a zit in like forever," and then you wake up the next morning with a massive mo fo right in the middle of your forehead?

Co-incidences like that make us want to "knock on wood"  or not even utter such words to begin with.  I should admit that I'm a little hesitant to write this post at all, knowing that if it weren't for bad luck, I'd have no luck at all.  However, I really truly believe that this blog is all about putting myself out there and being honest with myself and you, my faithful followers.  I've thought an awful lot about it.  So, here goes....

I'm...

...happy.

I know.  You totally weren't expecting this at all, were you?

Everything in my life is really, really nice right now - with the exception of this bumper crop of acne my skin is harvesting right now.  I mean, seriously?  I'm 33, zits.  Let me be.  Let me settle in with the crows feet, laugh lines and growing wrinkles.  I don't need acne too.  I feel like I'm 13 again. Ooooohhhh, maybe it's all my *happiness* oozing from my pores...but I digress...

I'm happy.

Not in an annoying way, though. 

In a content way.

I'm super duper content.

This is what scares me the most to admit...

I like my job.  For the first time since I began working with mail, I actually like my job.  It's the perfect combination of stress (I thrive on work stress...time crunches, deadlines, quotas, etc), employee dynamics and company involvement.  I always fall in love with my employees, some more than others.  It's always so interesting getting to know a whole new group of people when you have no pretenses or expectations.  The influence of the company isn't as evident now that I no longer work in the mail plant.  Being away takes you away from the politics that tend to bog you down.  And we have a new CEO.  His name is Deepak Chopra, and I was totally stoked because I thought it was the meditation guru and we were going to start our mornings with the downward facing dog, but alas...there is more than one Deepak Chopra.  I guess it's a popular name in India.

I like the work/life balance that day shift allows.  It is so nice that I have evenings free, that I'm not exhausted all the time, that I have time to myself, and that I have oodles of time to spend with my little man.  It's so nice to have balance.  I've seen my one girlfriend three times in three weeks instead of once in three months.  It's so nice to have some girl time.  And at the end of the day, I come home to a wonderful home.  It's home. 

I still haven't figured out the whole sleep thing yet.  God gave me the gift of sleep.  Little known fact, I was a month late when I was born.  My poor momma says my due date was October 15 and I was born on November 17.  Isn't that horrible?  But, it just goes to show that I come by sleep honestly.  I was born with the gift of sleep.  I was sleeping through the night at one month old.  Unheard of, right?  I like to sleep.  Having a free evening is nice.  Spending it sleeping is silly.  I gotta get some balance. 

My life is complete and I am content.  I couldn't ask for more. 

Well, I could...but let's not get greedy!

My New Love

Okay, so those who follow this blog regularly understand that I'm somewhat of a consumer.  I cannot help that I am swayed easily by creative marketing and fabulous items that will enhance the quality of my life.  I mean, who can deny how much my life has improved since I became the proud owner of one fuchsia pink Coach purse?  Or how much more enjoyable watching T.V. has become now that we watch it on a 32" Samsung HDTV?  

So..........the other day, I just happened to be waiting for a friend outside my phone service provider's store.  I had a few extra minutes to kill, so I went inside to 'browse'.  And they just happened to not be busy at all and they always seem to be v. helpful and v. friendly.  I casually asked about the iphone 4, but alas they were all sold out and weren't expecting any in for a month or more and they sell very fast and so basically, I was shite outta luck.  So, I waited for my friend outside the store.

Until, like a fairy tale or a rom com, the guy from the store comes running out after me, "Miss!  Miss!"  he called.  This, by the way always makes me laugh.  Do I look like a *miss* more than I look like a *ma'am* (which is even more hilarious to me)?  I guess it would be kind of inappropriate to call me *Babe* or *Sweet Love* and very impolite to call out, *hey, lady*.  Uh, where was I?  Oh ya, he runs out and get this...his manager is leaving the store right now to go pick up a new order that has just arrived, and it contains *gasp* the new iphone 4 (cue choir of angels) and he'll call me when she gets back.

At this moment, my friend arrives.  We shop, we bond, we eat.  We're getting ready to leave and seeing as how I parked by the store, I might as well stop in just to see if the phone has arrived...and get this...he's calling me as I walk in the store.

Is this not fate?

It's totally fate, right?

Totally.

So, that's the long story.  The short story is that I bought me the new iphone 4 and I am in love.  It's just fabulous in every way.  As I signed the new contract, my heart went pitter patter and I thought to myself..."this is way better than getting married." 

I don't know if that's a bad thing.

I'm positively giddy over my new purchase and I think I've come to a life changing realization.  Forget small purchases.  They just prevent you from buying the big ones.  Save for the big ticket items...that's where the rush is.  The Coach purse, the HDTV, the new car. 

I can't wait for the next big purchase. 

And I'm sorry, but you're going to have to put up with a few more posts starring the newest baby of the family.  I'm sorry, but she is just that fabulous.

Ohhhh, maybe I should give her a name....like 'Baby" because nobody puts baby in a corner...

Then again....it is just a phone...*snicker snicker snort*

Brave, Brave (Baby) Boy

Little bug went to the dentist yesterday because his two front teeth were horridly crooked, and they were not falling out.  His adult teeth were trying to grow in over top of the baby teeth and because the baby teeth were still there, the adult teeth were bulging through his gums.  His poor little gums were all red and swollen and would bleed on occasion.  He kept biting his bottom lip with his horridly crooked baby teeth.

Have I painted an ugly picture?

Good.

Here, is quite possibly the cutest picture ever...



his red ears are not reflecting the red wall...



And, Oh. My. Goodness, to listen to him talk with the toothless lisp is just adorable.  Doesn't it just make you want to give him a great big hug and kiss those adorable cheeks?

He was the bravest little boy.  He sat in the dentist's chair so, so brave.  The dentist asked him if he wanted some "sleepy juice" (which I hope meant general anesthetic...) and Q said, "Nope."  The dentist explained that it would just make his gums go to sleep so he wouldn't feel anything, and again Q said, "Nope."  I think it's important to add that, at this point, I was in a cold sweat and my heart was racing.  When these big pliers came towards his poor little mouth, I told him to close his eyes in my bravest voice...and boom, in no time those two little suckers were gone.

I think the most painful part for me was when the *tooth fairy* came.  Dude looses two teeth in one day, and they're forcibly pulled from his tiny little mouth.  Oh yeah, that's not cheap. 

'Q'-isms

Q had a spelling test today.  He has one every Thursday.  After many hours of studying, tears and hard work he got 4 out of 5 right.  Two of those words were *as* and *I*.

Teacher:  Okay, the next word is *HIS*.  Spell *HIS*

Q:  P - I - T

Yup. 

Maybe we should go back to paying him.

It's only Grade 1.  I shouldn't be freaking out yet, right?

Spelling Dilemma

When I get a little bogged down by life, I tend to retreat into myself. 

Thus, the silence on my blog.

I really, really, really want to write...but my mind is blank...completely blank.  I get an inkling of an idea and then it is gone.  Never to return. 

Life is becoming just a little less stressful (phew!) so hopefully, the ideas will once again flow and I will bore you all soon with my mindless thoughts and endless beliefs.

But, I do have a quandary...

My son (love him to pieces) is not exactly a genius.  I'm sure it will come soon, and he has wonderful gifts and talents - like organizational skills...man, the kid just blows me away with his ability to put things in their place.  So, getting him to study for his spelling tests every week is kind of like getting him to pull his own teeth (hence we're going to the dentist to get the two front ones pulled on Friday.)  Granted, he's in grade one and so the words are *bag* and *snag* and *tag* and there's usually only 5 or 6 of them, but it's a constant fight. 

The test before last, he got 6 out of 6 and I was so proud.  I congratulated him for working hard towards a goal, and told him how proud Mommy was.  He got this sly little grin and I thought, "This is good.  He's got to experience studying hard and then reap the rewards of all that work."

This last test he also got 6 out of 6 and I was so excited.  We made a huge production about it and we called Daddy to brag about this fabulous accomplishment.  The conversation goes something like this...

"6 out of 6, Daddy!"

"Nope, there were 6 words, not 5."

"That's like 2 dollars, isn't it?"

"Oh, 25 cents a word?"

"So, 6 words at 25 cents each, how much does that make?"

I got really super mad.  Like irate.  Like speechless while your heart rate quickens.  I don't want to pay Q to do well in school.  I don't want money to be his goal.  I want pride in what he does to be his goal. 

What do you think?  Am I over reacting?  Is it okay that Q's dad is paying him to get his spelling words right?  It eliminates the fight, he's eager to do the work, and he learns the words.

But money becomes such a huge deal in every one's lives, I just don't want to it to become his driving force when he's so young.  He's only six.  Why can't we go through the blood, sweat and tears?  Don't you think he'll appreciate it all the more?  Not only that, we can't afford to pay him for every test, quiz and exam for the next 12 years.  He's setting a precedent and this is the guy who has a difficult time following through on anything.

What do YOU think?

Ch-ch-ch-change...

For Christmas, Q got this piggy bank that counts all his change.  It's one of his most favourite presents.  He's already stolen saved over $100.00.  On a completely different note, my change keeps disappearing...seriously, we had to make a rule that he doesn't get to *save* any of mommy's money over a quarter. 

I wish I got a piggy bank. 

Well, something I can keep all my change in and then hide away.  But by 'change' I don't mean money...I mean change...actual physical changes in my life.

Take, for instance, my transfer. 

Last week, I woke up every single day of the week with a panic attack that lasted for half an hour.  That's a long way to spend half an hour, for the record.  The second day of the work week, I left the house in tears.  It's ridiculous, I know.  I mean, I'm a fricken adult.  Adults don't cry in the morning on their way to work.  They don't have panic attacks. 

They suck it up.  They deal.  They remember that they're super fortunate to have a job that affords them the opportunity to support their child, save for their retirement through a pension, and pay for the health and dental.  They remember it could always be worse.  They remember their little man who is at home waiting to see them. 

But every day was so different and so unsettling.  No face was familiar.  The toilet didn't even flush itself.  Do you know how horrifying it is to have partially left the stall when you realize you haven't flushed the toilet because you're so used to it flushing itself?  Modern technology has made even the most simplistic events an embarrassing production.

For the most part, everyone has been really very welcoming.  There's always an exception, and mine is a fellow supervisor who I can't seem to figure out.  At first I thought it was just me, but I've noticed he doesn't treat anyone with any amount of respect.  He seems to feel really good about himself when he makes others look like idiots.  Fortunately, he's not very good at it - making others look like idiots, that is.  He sure tries.  I've followed my "three strikes" rule....and he's all out of strikes, so next time he gets in my face, I'm just going to have to tell him that "this" isn't working for me and if he yells at me one more time I'm going to stuff his big toes up his nostrils.  Of course, I wouldn't really.  It's just a good visual for him.  I noticed that he had clear nail polish on his nails yesterday, so he goes for manicures.  He's a metro-sexual, among other things.

After a week, things are looking a little more familiar.  I've almost memorized the eight (!) separate steps to resetting the conveyor belt that our parcels go on, and I cannot wait until I recognize the fact that the belt needs to be reset.  I've flushed the toilet every single day this week. 

Change is so difficult for me.  I miss my employees from my old job.  I think of them often and wish they knew how much they've become apart of my life and thoughts.  If I changed a part of their lives, they certainly changed mine.  I miss one in particular who taught me so much about myself and what I am looking for in a partner.  He showed me that there are men out there that still love their women, still hold the door open for ladies, and know how to take care of their gals.  He's a good man, a misunderstood man, and a fabulous worker.  I miss the one who gave me the Guatemalan worry dolls.  I miss them all. 

Yes, instead of dealing with change, I'd like to put it all away and save it for another day.

People Who Have Written Books...

...other than me, that is...because I, uh....haven't.  Yet.

1.  'Snooki'

Snooki drinks so much that she passes out in a "garbage can" at least once a month and thinks the best way to get over a hangover is to drink more.  I've never ever watched the show she's on and I can't imagine that I ever will.  I don't know how she got a t.v. show and a book deal, but she did.  I'm pretty sure this is a memoir...a whole book glorifying getting so drunk you start cat fights with strangers.  Oh wait...it says it's a novel...hmmmm, okay, it's a novel that glorifies getting so drunk you start cat fights with strangers.   Absolutely ridiculous!

2. Tori Spelling

Famous for her nose and boob jobs, fighting with her mother and stealing some one's husband (while also cheating on her own), she's written not one, not two, but three autobiographical 'self help' books...about parenting, go figure.  And now she's also written a children's book about a rich little girl - that's a big stretch of the imagination, huh?

3.  Hilary Duff

She's written a novel.  A paranormal love story.  I. Can't. Wait. (ummmm....yes, yes I can...) 

4.  Lauren Conrad

One of those people famous for being famous, a spawn of reality T.V.  She's written two novels (an L.A Candy story...sounds super fun, doesn't it?  I love candy...) and a book on style. 

I wonder.  If Hilary Duff and Snooki can write a book...and get someone to publish it....and then get someone to buy it...it must not be all that difficult to do.  It's absolutely an insult to literature in general.  Can you imagine if Shakespeare was still alive?  He's probably rolling in his grave as we speak.  Doesn't it make a mockery of epic novels like "To Kill a Mockingbird" and "War and Peace"?  Oh, or what about "Life of Pi".  I know, I know, you're not supposed to judge a book by it's cover (or it's author), but we all do it.  Oh, don't lie...you know you do.  You've never ever bought a book because you liked the cover?  I have.  Many a time, I'm not afraid to say.  Some have failed to deliver.  My true secret for picking a book (other than word of mouth, of course) is to open a book to any page and just start reading.  If I want to keep reading, I usually buy the book...but I think I've gotten a little sidetracked. 

I'd better get on it.  Writing a book, that is.  But I don't have a cult following, fake boobs or a problem with drunken binges...

I need a gimmick.  Hmmmm.....

Or a really, really good idea....

Or talent....

Or all of the above.

First Days

First days suck.

The only first day that would be fabulous would be the first day as a multi-millionaire.  That would be just, well...WOW!!

But other first days suck.

First day at a job...huge suckage factor.

This morning, I get to the new building and I can't even find the front door.  Well, that's not exactly true.  I can find a door, at the front of the building, but...there's this sign that says, "EMPLOYEES without a valid pass must report to security at the NE entrance."

Are you kidding me?  No one told me there was going to be a test right off the bat.  So, I walk around the corner to what I think is the NE side of the building, and low and behold, the same sign.  I figure that they wouldn't post a sign like that if I were actually at the NE entrance to the building, but it's freezing cold outside, so I buzz the buzzer anyways.  Security lets me in (phew!) and all I see for approximately two city blocks is mail.  Mail.  Everywhere.  No one's waiting for me with a sign that says "New Supervisor Catherine Welcome!"  Nothing.  I see a small grouping of people, so I decide the best thing to do is to go hang out with the people.  My people.  My new people.  So, I go and I wait, and I stand there.  And I stick out like a sore thumb.  Finally, someone takes pity on me and shows me where all the supervisors are hiding. 

The rest of the day went kind of like that. 

People I don't recognize moving all over the place, mail everywhere (still!!!) and I'm lost.  I waited for 10 minutes while someone *forgot* about me, and then remembered I was waiting, and then forgot again...all I needed to do to find out where our end of shift paperwork was.  I hate being the person who doesn't know...I really, really like being the know person. 

But what's really bothering me?  I mean, my employees are really very nice.  I've really been blessed with very nice employees where ever I go.  That's not the problem.

And then it hits me. 

I'm in a warehouse.  I'm wearing steel toed boots and a bright yellow safety vest.

It's so not glamorous.

At all.

I'm not looking for red carpet and cameras.  I really don't want to be movie star.

But here I look around and I don't see anything exciting.  Or challenging.  The only difference a month from now is that I might remember where the washrooms are located.  Maybe it would be way more fun if we could do mail in ball gowns and tuxedos.  Maybe if the walls were painted pink instead of blahhhhhhhh.  Wasn't I meant for way, way more than parcels?  Isn't there more?  Once again, I find myself feeling homesick for my old employees, too.

Then I remind myself that first days are always a little rough.  And that I have a fabulous little boy waiting for me at home.  That's what makes all this worth it.

Is it 2011 Already?

My, doesn't Y2K feel like it was just yesterday?

I'm not really one of those who makes wide sweeping changes and ridiculous resolutions for the New Year.  Two years ago, my New Years resolution was to have softer skin and instead I quit smoking (for 5 months).  Aim low, I always say, and you're bound to surprise yourself.  In fact, I'm not really one to ring the New Year in with a bang, either.  We all know I'm more of a home body than a party animal anyways, but I wonder if the pomp and circumstance goes hand in hand with the desire to make resolutions you can't  (or could) possibly keep.

This year, Q wanted to stay up until midnight to watch the ball drop.  Granted, this was totally my fault, because Q didn't even know what the "ball drop" meant, but he really, really wanted to stay up until midnight.  Me, I wanted to be in bed by 10.  Unfortunately, in situations like this Q always wins because of this overwhelming desire of mine to create happy childhood memories and traditions.  If I hadn't been feeling so horrid, I most likely would have had the presence of mind to have streamers and noise makers and he could have had ginger ale in a wine glass.  As it was, I was trying my best to stay awake and kept checking the channels to see if I could find the ball dropping anywhere a little earlier.  Midnight came and we went to bed, no wiser...just a little sleepier.

I wonder, though, if we had had the streamers and the pop, if maybe we would have been inspired to find things we'd like to do differently or better or even at all.  Maybe if there had been lots of people around, all shouting out the countdown to midnight, maybe then we would have a list of resolutions. 

Seeing as how it's January 2, 2011 and no longer New Years Day...

These are two things that are definitely going to change..you know...just for the heck of it...

1.  My finances.  I live paycheck to paycheck, when in all reality I make enough money to live comfortably.  I shouldn't have to worry every month and wait for every second Thursday.  I need to learn to live within my means and be content with what I have.  Easy to say, but difficult (for me) to do.  Nothing like a Coach purse or a pretty pair of sparkly earrings to put a smile on your face and make you forget all your problems.

2.  My weight.  As I write this, I am snacking on creamy dill pickle chips.  Pretty sure that isn't going to help me lose the 30 or so pounds that I have put on since trying to quit smoking three times in two years.  But this is gonna be the year I try to have a healthy relationship with food.  Would it be better if I told you that the chips are my dinner?  It's not like I'm randomly snacking, or eating when I'm not hungry.  sheesh...

Although....

Being more organized sure would be nice. 

And neater.  Like tidier...not like, "Wow, you are so neat-o" neater.  But I guess organized and tidy go hand in hand, don't they?  

Wide sweeping changes?   Sometimes a gal just feels like a change...and it has nothing to do with the New Year or anything like that.  Sometimes, the blonde highlights just seem all too much, and the roots just drive you crazy, and the colour starts to look brassy and the money, don't even get me started....

...so you go back to your roots. 

Happy New Year, everyone.  Here's hoping that if you did make any New Years resolutions that they're attainable, easy to accomplish, and not too drastic.  How's that for mediocre!

Cheers!!