Being Political is Politically Incorrect. Weird, Huh?

This letter was read on the Air America radio station today. I listen to the station religiously, because I always find the content interesting and quite amusing. Well, this letter, while incredibly long, basically sums up my feelings about McCain-Palin. Again, if you aren't on the same side of the fence as I am, oops. Doesn't mean we can't be friends, right? We can as long as you don't tell me you disagree. ; )

Enjoy the letter:

September 25, 2008

An Open Letter to the Honorable John McCain

By Brian Normoyle

Dear Senator McCain:

As an average, middle-class American, I write with concern because I'm starting to wonder whether or not the McCain-Palin campaign is just a colossal farce that the voters are forced to sit through.

I overlooked the exaggerations, as politicians are prone to, but took issue with the outright lies about Obama's economic plan and Palin's alleged opposition to earmarks and the bridge to nowhere. Then, your lies became evasion: refusing to meet with reporters on your plane or take their questions after rallies, Palin's two softball interviews with the national media and still no press conferences, and the campaign's patent refusal to allow media access to her. Shortly thereafter, you again tried to pull the wool over our eyes contending you've been a pro-regulation populist all along who takes on Big Business maverick-style.

My final indignation was in the third act of this horrible farce I can't bring myself to laugh at: you're "suspending" the campaign to go to Washington and fix this bailout problem. This political gimmick is even more brazen than the rush-to-judgment choice of Sarah Palin--and that's saying a lot. The really juicy part of the joke? You want to postpone the debate scheduled for Friday and even the Vice-Presidential debate next week.

I've had it. Enough! Let's call this exactly what it is: moose-shit.

No, Senator McCain, you do not get an extension on your homework assignment. You can show up to the University of Mississippi, like the all the other kids, and give the presentation you were assigned months ago. I don't care that you're grossly unprepared and I have little sympathy for your apparent inability to defend 25 years of pro-business, anti-regulation policies leading us to where we are today. Like any other person who wants to be President of the United States, you need to be able to handle more than one assignment concurrently and you need to do your homework on time.

Senator, you sold me and America a first-class ticket on your Straight-Talk Express, and I've come to learn that I actually hold a coach-class seat on the No-Talk Express, or as I've named it: Sham-trak. I want off this train and I want answers. I'll even give you the questions in advance so you can study your scripted responses:

1. With Republicans in control of congress for 12 years and Bush at the helm for the last eight, the SEC Chairman and all its commissioners appointed by a Republican, the FRB Chairman appointed by a Republican, and a Republican Treasury Secretary, why do you think we should trust you, a Republican, with our vote?

2. When your economic advisor, Phil Gramm, said our failing economy was all in our head and called struggling Americans "a nation of whiners," what exactly did he mean by that? And since he wrote a law in 1999 repealing restrictions and regulations on the financial sector, how can we be sure you're not beholden to his "expert" economic policy advice?

3. In 2005 you stated "I'm going to be honest, I know a lot less about economics than I do about military and foreign policy issues, I still need to be educated" and said last December that "the issue of economics is not something I've understood as well as I should [but] I've got Greenspan's book." Do you think that instills confidence and hope in the American people about your economic stewardship? Why do you feel uniquely more qualified to handle something you've admitted you know little about?

4. Why do you continue to deny media access to Sarah Palin? Why don't you talk to reporters anymore? Why are you avoiding the debate? Why won't you give us the answers we deserve about the issues facing our nation and our everyday lives?

Here's some advice from an average, middle-class American. Think of it as Straight-Talk 101: when you own 13 cars and can't remember that you also have seven homes; when you want to inflict damage on the few of us who are provided employer-sponsored health insurance by taxing that benefit; when you and your party make it harder for struggling Americans to access bankruptcy courts but you and said party offer to bailout Wall Street with our money; when you want to continue the failed Bush-Republican policies of giving tax breaks to the wealthiest 1% while short-shifting the middle class; when you have all these factors about you pitted against a voter's reason, logic and rational thought-and the emotional response to losing a home, job, and/or life savings--you shouldn't be running from the media and debates, you should hop in the engineer's compartment of your BS-Express and slam full-throttle towards them so that you can explain yourself and give us one, just one reason, why any sentient human being should vote for you.

See you in class on Friday.

Good luck because I think you're gonna need it.

Kind regards,
Brian Normoyle

It's Potty Time, Y'all!!!

Farrah has been wanting to start using the potty. She does not like sitting in a soggy diaper. She does not like sitting in a smelly crappy diaper. She has been giving us signs left and right and has from time to time taken a seat on the toilet and read the book, "Mrs. Wishy-Washy". I feel very guilty because, there were two times where Farrah forewarned me that she was about to blow (poop). Once yesterday and once the day before, she ran up to me and pointed at her rear and said, "Dee!" I felt her diaper and it was perfectly dry. "Oh, you're such a liar! You silly girl. You just want to be with mama." Nope. Not so much. 3-5 minutes later, I was being handed my smelly daughter. She had been telling me that she was about to fill her diaper, and was giving me an opportunity to sit her on the pot and save the land fills. Oops. Don't I feel like an ass.

Well, today, I was told that our daycare friend had space and was inviting Farrah over for nap, lunch, and playtime. Couldn't pass it up. She loves it over there and Jen, the "daycare lady" is a rock star with our girl. Plus, her daughter, Brenna, and Farrah are very good friends. They have fun together, and I love that. I took Farrah over around lunch time. Farrah went right into playing while Jen and I chatted it up. Suddenly, we both looked over and saw that Farrah had her hands down the front of her pants and was pushing down her diaper. I asked her if she needed to go potty. She said, "Noooooooooooo" very sweetly, while shaking her head up and down. Jen and I were on our feet! We grabbed her, Jen got her pants and diaper off, and we got her on the lil' potty. She sat there and lifted one leg, put it down, lifted the other, put it down, sang a bit, danced a bit, and simply hung out on the pot. Jen and I just stood there talking to one another, then suddenly, my head shot in Farrah's direction and I said, "I think I heard something!" "Oh, I keep a little water in there so they can hear if they did something, but it may have just been the water sloshing around."

When Farrah decided she was done playing on the toilet, she was handed the tp, did what she had to do with it, and placed it in the big potty. Jen's way of emptying the lil' potty is to place a paper towel sheet in it and then dump it in the big one. If the paper towel is yellow, that's how you know if your little one did the deed. Our little one did! Farrah went pee in the potty!!! We were so excited and Farrah got all the praise we could throw at her. She washed her hands and got her new DEE put on. I shared the news with Daddy and everyone at work. Had to. Even called Grandma and Poppy to let them know the good news. They were thrilled, considering they had been placing her on that toilet as often as they could, trying to get her to do her thing.

Finally, tonight, we tried using the little kid toilet rather than the one we placed on the big toilet. It's not as intimidating. We let her play with it for a while, and finally decided to walk away and let her do what she wanted to do and try it for herself (no diaper, of course). Well, I was cooking dinner and out came my half naked child making an announcement to us. She was pointing in the direction of the bathroom. So Mommy and Daddy followed Farrah to the bathroom. There we saw the triumphant finale of Farrah's potty time. Her toilet, unfortunately, was empty. However, the carpet around the toilet was not. Neither was the flooring on the way out of the bathroom. While the pee didn't make it where we wanted it to, she still was praised huge. She tried hard and she was wonderful enough to share it with us. She's on her way. What a good girl.

We're so proud of her and can't wait for the next try.

Naughty

My sweet, innocent, bright, loving little girl has recently become...um...horrible. She is as wonderful as she always has been, until you let her know that she is not allowed to do whatever it is she's doing. Like standing on a chair for fear she will inevitably fall off. Or, like reaching up to grab your chocolate milk that you thought was completely out of reach, but you were wrong. She is not a fan when we correct her when she claims that every little thing in the house is hers (like make up, sunglasses, keys, etc) when they are not. Her way of expressing her disapproval is to, of course, voice it...VERY LOUDLY. Not only is she loud, she is super duper whiny. Her whine is awful. It is high pitched and drawn out for a long time. When she is hungry, she says, "I'm Huuuuuuweeee." but she says it as if you told her she needs to clean her bedroom. Picture it in your head as if she is saying, "I don't waaaaaannnt to." You can hear it. Can't you.

She has also become incredibly bossy and demanding. For instance, her favorite thing to shout at us is, "BAH BAH!!! BAH BAH!!! BAH BAH!!! BAH BAH!!!" Not only is she yelling at us that she wants her bottle, she does it with a horrible scowl on her face. What happened to our precious little girl while we were gone? Can we get her back please? When she makes her scowl, I am quick to run up and spread it out on her face so that she doesn't grow up with frown lines (like what I have). Not attractive. Other than that, she gets a nice raised voice from either or both of her parents to be nice or she will get nothing, while explaining how to ask in a more respectful manner. She knows what to say when I ask, "What do you say?"..."Peeeze." I always let her know how good she is when she asks for things in a nice way, but I also let her know what I will not put up with.

I REFUSE to raise an asshole. There are so many out there, I'd rather my daughter have a few bad feelings about me from time to time, but will walk around being a kind human being to others and respectful to those that are older than her (if they deserve it...I'm not raising an idiot either). We've been dealing with Farrah's terrible twos since she was a little over 1. We have a lot of work on our hands, but that is because little girls are sassy. I also believe them to be a bit more defiant than boys. At least, that has been my experience.

Mind you, she still wants to play with us, hug us, love us, be with us always. She is a great kid and very smart. She loves to be sent to Time Out. She's so weird. But, I think it is because she knows at the end of her time out, she gets to walk up to both of us, say sorry, and get a big loving hug from her mommy and daddy. She always knows at the end of her discipline there is an awesome reward. Loves from us.

Well, I have to go and spank my child, now.

Just kidding.

Pass the Collard Greens, Please.

Mike and I just returned from a trip to see extended family out in Kentucky. We had a wonderful time. Who knew you could do that in Kentucky??? I was going to start this blog with a description of our trip, but decided instead, just to share my experience at the family pot luck...I'll follow up with our actual trip in a later entry.

On Saturday, we had the big family reunion. I had been forewarned by Mike about Southern edicate when eating. You are to only take what you have every intention to eat. Do NOT leave ANYTHING behind on your plate unless you would like to receive a ration of shit from the older people around you. I had been warned because of my tendency to pile food high on my plate, sit down, then suddenly realize that I am not an obese person, but a small woman with a stomach the size of a walnut. So, the family reunion was a potluck, meaning that everyone brought something that THEY like to make. Their favorite southern dish. When Mike and I got in line to fill our plates, I remembered what he told me. I was excited to try different things, because that is just what I do when it comes to food. I grabbed some mashed potatoes, corn, ham, a corn bread roll, and of course, collard greens. The last time I had collard greens, they were cooked in a style that my parents prepared green beans and spinach: with vinegar, bacon, a little sugar, salt, and pepper. Yummy (to me, anyway). Um, that's not how these were prepared. And the corn? It was not your typical sweet corn with just butter. Nope. And what two items did I grab the most of? The corn and the collard greens, of course! I had dug into my ham, and as I ate, I swore I was smelling some sort of rancid fish or garbage. I was horrified that the smell was coming off of my plate. I took a bite of the corn. Ugh. It had been cooked with country ham and country bacon and back fat. Sick. Not a mixture of flavors that agreed with me, so I took big bites of potatoes with every bite of corn. To my horror, yet again, I had realized that when the corn was gone, the potatoes were gone, and the ham was gone, I still was able to smell the garbage-esque fishy smell. Whatever it was, it was still on my plate. I had to go get more potatoes (thank God there were more left). With every bite of collard greens, I took a huge bite of potatoes. I chewed my food like a kid who was given sushi for the first time. You know, real fast chewing while stomping your feet quietly under the table real fast as if you were trying to run away, only you're stuck sitting in your chair while your family eagerly watches with joy that you're eating their food not realizing that at any moment you might just gag and allow your food to come right back up. You know what I'm talking about. We've all been there. Only we were there when we were children, not grown adults. I ate as fast as I could and got those collard greens down so quick. I couldn't wait for them to digest so I could get them out of my body. And then of course, when I finally finished, I was asked by Dan, "What did you think of those collard greens? Pretty good, huh?" Thank god I answered with a polite answer of, "Oh, yes!" because Aunt Thelma who was sitting right next to him was the one who made them. She, eagerly, proceeded to explain how they were made. Wish I didn't know. No worries, I will not be sharing the recipe on this blog. Following that experience, I had one last thing on my plate. The corn bread muffin. I broke it open and took a small bite. That was enough for me. I had already completely tortured myself and took one (or two) for the team by not being wasteful or a complainer. To the trash the hockey puck muffin went. When I went to the trash and looked at everyone else's plate, Mike was right. Mine ended up being the only one with something left on the plate. At that moment, I honestly didn't give a shit.

Later that night, while Mike and I lay in bed, several hours after I had had my meal, I just moaned, "Collard Greens." It's all I could think to say, because that's what my breath smelt like and my mouth tasted like. I suppose I could've simply had said, "Ass." It, too, would've easily had described what was in my body.

Collard Greens + week old saved up country ham juice = disgusting torture.

Ha ha, there's the recipe.

You're welcome.

I Just Have To Speak Up

I apologize in advance (kinda) to any who might disagree with what I'm about to write, but if you read my disclaimer, then it really doesn't matter, does it? So here it is...

Republicans. Sarah Palin. John McCain. Oh my effin' God.

I am an Obama fan. A huge fan, as a matter of fact. I participated in the Caucuses and stood in the wind and rain to do my part and get him to be the Democratic nominee. He is brilliant, he is honest, he is powerful, he is presidential. I have never been so passionate about politics my entire life until now. When I hear him speak, it makes me wonder how anyone, even republicans, can not be moved by his words and the sincerity behind them. And then I watch the GOP convention. Holy Hell, it is so freaking embarrassing to watch, I can barely even look.

I honestly think the republican party must think that our nation is full of a bunch of retards. They nominate a women with little to no experience as the republican nominated VP. Are you kidding me? Is that how they think they're going to pull in the women voters or the people that were devastated that Hillary Clinton didn't get in? I can't have been the only one able to see right through the hypocrisy and the desperation in that choice.

When Palin speaks, I can't help but laugh. Why? Because...who the hell is she? I've NEVER heard of her. Ever. Has anyone? Has anyone even from Alaska heard of her? What an odd choice. The fact that the republican party's biggest gripe about Obama was his "lack of experience" completely is trumped now. Yay for us, but wtf to them? Not that I care, but it kinda makes you feel sorry for some of those people.

There's something that the republican party is now saying: "The Democratic Party is lying to the country about the state of our economy." WH WH WH WHAT?!!! You're kidding me!!! I have never seen such an out of touch group of people my whole life. Do they live in a little tiny box full of cash and constant security while the rest of the country loses their homes, loses their jobs, file for bankruptcy, and sit back frightened about what the future holds for them and their family? Unbelievable. Again, do they think we are a bunch of idiots? So, if the republican party says everything is fine, we should just take their word for it rather than looking at our bank accounts. Okay.

My final rant is this. At the end of the GOP convention, they called for a closing prayer. What? What happened to separation of church and state? It just bothers me. Everyone has the right to have their faith and I think it is important. But does it belong there? Ugh. Whatever. I just really wanted to puke when I watched the GOP convention and was in complete bliss and in awe of the Democratic Convention.

Go Team Dems!!!

Confession

So, um, I'm not sure how to let the world know exactly what I did. I'm a little ashamed and can't even believe that I did this, let alone getting ready to tell my awful secret.

Well, here it is...

I took Farrah to McDonalds!!!!!

I'm so ashamed and fear that now that it has started, she will be one of those children that constantly begs to go there and has a fit if I say no. I've told so many people that I refused to ever allow this food into her body, and yet here I type while she sits next to me in her high chair dipping her greasy french fries in high fructose corn syrup filled ketchup and takes bites of her talon or beak filled chicken McNuggets. What have I done?!!! That's not all! I, too, purchased myself a filet o' fish. It is the only thing I can stomach at that place. At least I didn't order a Coke and go crazy and Super Size it.

Oh!!! Good news! She just said, "All Done!" She ate probably 10 fries and just sucked the ketchup off the nuggets. She must have started to realize it was possible that had she continued, she might bite into a toe or simply get gut rott.

I'm terrible.

Now, excuse me while I dig into my delicious filet o' fish.

August 24, 2008

It was my and Mike's 6th anniversary yesterday.

Lost & Trying to be Found

I'm not in a good place right now. There doesn't seem to be more times that are good over those that are not. That is an unfamiliar environment for me to be in. I am a believer in the law of attraction. There have been many times that I have felt that I have lost complete control over my life for quite sometime because I have forgotten how to make the law of attraction work for me IN MY favor. I have gotten to a place in my mind and in my heart where I focus too much on what I don't want to happen and I get it. It has happened time and time again, and now it feels like it is completely out of control. I know what I want. I know what I need. However, my brain keeps showing me scenerioes of what my life could look like in the next 6 months to a year, and I don't like it. It's not a place I want to be nor is it a place I have ever wanted to be. I need help. I need better guidance. I need to be able to remember how to get back on track so that the things I want will come. The things I desire will appear to me. I don't know how many more pills I can pop to make the sadness and anger go away. It's not me. I had been seeing a therapist for a little while, but he was unfamiliar with the way that I see the world and how much we actually are capable of controlling. Therefore, he was unable to truly help me. He would remind me to stop going to the negative in my mind, but how do you do that? If it pops in my head, is there really a switch to turn it around. If so, please enlighten me as to where mine is. I just don't know what to do.

There's hope, right?

2008 Olympic Gymnist

Today, Farrah did a tumbling act for me. Down the stairs. I had just finished changing her diaper and got up to follow her out and toss it in the garbage, when she decided to bolt. Before I could even yell out her name (mind you she was 4 feet away from me) she was already sitting on the top step and leaning forward. I screamed her name as she went tumbling down the stairs. The first part of the fall was as if she was doing a summer sault and the rest was like she was rolling down a hill on her side. When she stopped at the landing, I was immediately holding her tight. It seemed like no matter how fast I was running down those stairs, I just couldn't get to her fast enough. I checked everything and nothing was broken. She had started to cry, but it was mainly because of how frightened she was. I couldn't let her go, though. It scared the shit out of me and so far all day, it has played in my mind over and over again like a movie. It would've ended on a much better note had she landed with a perfect dismount. No, but glad she didn't land with any broken bones.

Farrah, you'll be carried everywhere you go from now on until you leave high school. I'm not taking anymore chances like that again.

Bloody Nose

Two nights ago was my and Mike's date night. While it started off on a bit of a sour note, we managed to pull through, hit the reset button, and make the best of it. It started off with dinner at a Mexican restaurant. I basically just picked at my single enchilada and barely ate 4 bites. I've been on my antidepressants which have helped make my appetite almost non-existent. They make me a little nauseous and sometimes I get a nice little anxiety attack here and there throughout the day, which, too, make me nauseous. No worries, got my doctor on top of things so it should get better. Anyway, I'm getting a little off subject. A little. The plan for after dinner was to go see Tropic Thunder; something funny to lift our spirits. We walked to the truck and started having second thoughts. Neither of us was in the best of moods, and sitting in a movie that we would enjoy more if we were in a better state of mind, didn't sound as much fun anymore. So now what? Bowling? No. Tattoos? Yes. What? Cool!

So, we drove to the tattoo parlor next to our friend's business. We went in and asked all the questions to ask to get Mike's Tattoo done. He wanted Farrah's initials on his traps and neck. No problem. I, however, was told that the tattoo I wanted, I was not going to be able to get. I want my daughter's full name in cursive, wrapped around my left arm in a type of vine style. Nope. My arms have shrunk and I want to get them back to their normal size. Therefore, I was unable to get it done because when my arms come back my tattoo will look all stretched out and weird. Sooooo, no tat for me.

But, like hell if I was walking out of there empty handed. That's like spending time at the mall and not coming home with a new outfit. I've always wanted my nose pierced, so I figured what better time than now. It took so much time for me to finally do it because the thought of purposefully choosing to have myself stabbed in the face made me a bit faint. Mike was all prepped for his tattoo and finally joined me in the piercing room. I made him stick around and hold my hand because I didn't want to be alone. He held on while the woman stuck a metal bar up my right nostril and BAM! It was done. I was so worked up about the pain, that I almost lost it, but I didn't feel any pain, just pressure. Mike headed back to his tattoo chair while I was cleaned up. When it was all over, I looked in the mirror and was a little disappointed, but only because of the massive dried up blood under the post. I have one month until I can put a cute little diamond in. Can't wait! In the meantime, I do love it. It's fun and it's me.

Mike's tattoo turned out great and he decided to get one more on the inside of his forearm. He was looking at a couple odd pictures to put on that I wasn't sure suited him, so I suggested a dumbbell. The tattoo artist put it together and it turned out awesome. He received many compliments on it. Farrah, however, said, "Owie" when she saw his arm. Owie, was right!

Now, my nose itches because it's healing. I forget I have this new thing up my nose so when I go to scratch it... OUCH!!! I've had to twist it a couple times, too, because it gets turned around inside. I am getting used to it, though. A little scared to show my parents and Grandma. I'll tell them it's fake.

Smokin' Hot

Mike and I live in a community where the houses are pretty close to one another. When you are that close, you tend to know more than you want to know about the neighbors. You know who's fighting (probably us), who's doin' it (probably us), and you always know who's smoking. To our left, we have the couple who sits out on their deck early in the morning smoking, and at times, inside their garage. This is their way to make sure they aren't actually smoking in their house. Unfortunately, they don't realize that the smoke always finds its way into their home. The garage is so bad, when they open it in the morning to let their Cocker out to do her business, the stench is sooooo strong, you think YOU just had a cigarette. To our right, we have the neighbor's daughter who likes to sit out on their patio to have a couple smokes while on the phone or just while in deep thought. The problem that Mike and I have run into lately with both of our neighbors is the fact that it is over 90 degrees. We do not have air conditioning, so we, like so many others, leave our windows open to allow some "fresh" air in.

This is what happens...

"Ugh, it's soooo hot."

"God, I know. It's pretty miserable" --Picture us sprawled out on the couch.

"What the eff?!!! GOD DAMMIT!!!"

We are now running to the windows and slamming them shut. By the time we have reached all our windows that might be in the direction of the stink, it's too late. Our whole main floor is completely engulfed in cigarette smoke. Now we're pissed. Although, this is just an enjoyable habit of theirs, we are having to suffer breathing that crap in. It's unbearable. It sucks, too, because we actually really like our neighbors. But we stop liking them when we feel that they're being incredibly inconsiderate. They don't know that they are either. That's what sucks, because it's not like you can start screaming out your window that it's "95 effin degrees outside and to put out their God Damn cigarettes!!!", or to simply stink up their own house with the smoke. No, can't do that.

I really wish I could, though.

Delete

Why is it that we can't just go to a hypnotherapist to delete unhappy memories in our brains? I struggle from one day to the next with stuff that pops in my head. It stings and it hurts. Can't I have the memory to learn from but remove the heartache? One day I'll be in a fantastic mood and am great to those around me. Another day, sadness rolls in and everyone would be wise to stay clear of me. I know time heals. I just wish it would go faster...

Sorry to be bummer-girl.

Work 'n Stuff

Mike and I had an employee who worked in the daycare that we had considered letting go for a while and finally had the opportunity due to plenty of reasons to, and getting a new employee to cover all of her shifts. The day to do it was this last Monday. Mike pulled her aside (but not in his office, because she would have cornered him and given him a long ugly sob story as to why she should stay) and told her that it was her last day. Very loudly she said, "WHY?!!" What started out to be a somewhat private conversation was now very public. Mike started to explain the reason(s) why and she got louder and angrier. Finally, he told her to get her stuff and get out of our gym. She was no longer allowed (nor anyone in her family) to even step foot in our gyms ever again. It was that awful. She then decided to go to our other gym in Marysville and make a bit of a scene with her mother, sobbing and freaking out, and saying that we didn't even give her a reason. Riiiiight. Apparently, her mother said, "We need to call the police! They have no right to fire you! They can't do that!" What? Fortunately for employers and unfortunately for employees, we can fire you because we hate your haircut or because you have bad breath. That's Washington. But we felt that stealing was a good enough reason. Calling the police...really? Maybe we should.

Well, she has a best friend who also works in the daycare. I was told to be ready for her to quit if we let the other go. I had a back up girl on the back burner just in case. Well, Tuesday the best friend didn't show up for work and within 15 minutes I had all of her shifts covered and everyone is happy with their new schedules. We all win! Tuesday was also payday. Since I didn't want to deal with either of those girls' bullshit, I decided to mail them their checks. I informed a couple of the other employees that kept in contact with them of this. No big deal, right? Apparently, it was. So, that best friend of the bad employee...she called me and left me two nasty messages on my phone. "You had better have my check waiting for me in 2 hours or I'm calling the POLICE! I know my rights! I'm calling the POLICE! You will get in so much trouble with L&I. I'll file a complaint with the POLICE! You're breaking so many laws with our breaks! It's illegal and I'm turning you in! If I don't get my check in two hours, you'll be hearing from my attorney!" Oh...my...God. What a freakin' weirdo. This of course, made me laugh as well as piss me off. Did I fire her? Oh, no I didn't. She quit. Without a word, I might add.

I picked up my phone and called her right back. "Wow, it's pretty brave of you isn't it to leave such ugly messages for me on my voicemail. Let's see how brave you really are. Why don't you come on over here and say all those lovely things to my face. In fact, I'll get Mike over here so you can be sure to tell us both to our faces how you're going to call the POLICE and turn us in to L&I." Her response was, "Oh, I will. I'll come over there and you better have my check ready for me." "Well I won't because I already put it in the mail, so why don't you sit by your mailbox and wait patiently for the mailman to deliver it to you." "Oh, I will. And you better believe that I will also file a complaint with the Better Business Bureau." "Please do. Have fun with that and feel free to call them a hundred times, because we don't give a shit. Have a nice day." It makes me laugh again as I type this. She has an attorney? With the pay we gave her? She must be REALLY good at saving her money. While this was a bit of a thorn in my side yesterday, it was also a WONDERFUL blessing in disguise. I don't like being questioned about decisions I make and I don't like people who just want to complain, rather than giving friendly suggestions. As soon as the whining and complaining begins, my fingers are stuck in my ears.

Finally, today I had to take care of three days worth of deposits for both gyms. That's 6 deposits. That's 6 full days of accounting summaries that I had to go through and make sure was perfect (which none were). That's 6 different times that different people put the deposits together in different ways. This experience made me want to cry. For real. I have never been this frustrated at a job. Our assistant manager took her maternity leave on Tuesday, and I have to do her job as well as mine. That is A LOT of work and A LOT of responsibility. It was a bit overwhelming. However, the good side to it was that we learned that we either need to retrain some people or send them on their merry way. We hope we can simply do some retraining because we really do like our employees. The ones we have now.

Whew! That's it for now. I'm so ready to take on tomorrow with a positive and optimistic outlook!

Oh, Gold's Gym...

Really...I'm Not Stupid

Our assistant manager took off for maternity leave yesterday. That means, not only do I have to do my daily tasks including managing people, I also have to take care of all the "behind the scenes" stuff. Two people's jobs. I started working on some of the stuff that is on Kelly's desk and I thought my brain was going to explode. I had to call her at least 7 times and send several text messages. I was working on our deposits from both gyms for the past couple days. It's not the first time I've done it, but it has been quite a few months. Of course, I ended up having to go through paperwork and money that an idiot put together. By idiot, I mean someone who can't count, who can't put together a contract, who can't calculate taxes correctly, and can't print out the appropriate paperwork. I decided to just throw in the towel for the day and pick up where I left off first thing tomorrow morning. If she hasn't already pushed out her baby, she'll probably get a couple phone calls again. I'll figure it all out soon so people don't think I'm retarded. Stuff that should take me 45 minutes to an hour to do took me 3 and I still didn't finish. I have a lot to learn about what others do around that place. When I do, I know I'll be a more effective manager! This is a great opportunity!

A Little Catch Up

So, I'm going to get you all up to date about our little Farrah. Yes, it has been a while, but holy crap, I've been insanely busy. Or maybe just insane. Farrah is able to communicate, and very well, I might add. She says, "No!" It is extremely helpful when I show her everything in the pantry and refrigerator and she says, "no" to everything until we find what she'll eat. Yes, I give her options. That is just while her dad is dieting. When we get back to normal meals, she won't have much choice. While it might be helpful when trying to find out what she wants to eat or what toy she wants me to grab for the car ride, it's not so much when I ask her to come to me. "NO!" It's not just that she says the word, but she puckers up her lips to touch her nose, and says, "Nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnno!" She holds it as if she's winding up an engine. She also says, "Mine!" She does this in the same manor as No. Holds the MMMMMMM and releases with a loud, "MINE!" Unfortunately, I have encouraged the poor behavior by laughing at my child when she does this. I can't help it. It's so hard to turn around and not laugh hard out loud. It's such an event for her when she uses these two words. She also is calling both her dad and I by our parental names. It's very cool. She kisses us holds that MMMM again and says, "Mmmmmuah!" She puckers up too! She hugs us at the knees and sometimes doesn't let go. She has a word for snacks: Go Gee. Where she came up with that, I have no idea. Another fun one is "Ditty" for blanket. She wants her bah bah, baby, and her ditty when it's time to go ni ni.

A cool little trick that my daughter apparently inherited by me was acting. Or should I say faking. She will fake cry like no one else I know (except me). She puts her head down, makes her face, starts to wail like we told her she gets to go to Catholic School, and sometimes throws herself to the floor dramatically. If it doesn't get the response she wants, she'll pick herself up and throw herself down in another part of the room. While she does all of this, she sneakily lifts her head and looks for some sort of concerned look or pity from anyone. Mind you, she has dry eyes. Again, I have reinforced this bad behavior by laughing hysterically when she does this. Can't help it! It's freakin' funny! I will begin to stop laughing soon.

We have had two big mile stones the last two days. For the past few weeks, Farrah has found ways to tell me she needs her diaper changed. I'll ask her, and she'll say yes. She tugs at the front of her pants, at the top of the diaper to try to pull it down. And she says, "M' Dee". (That means diaper) After paying close attention to her behaviors, (including standing in the tub saying, "Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh" and being taken out, having a diaper put on, and 30 seconds pooping in the diaper rather in the tub) I decided to run the bath yesterday and watch to see what she would do. She tugged at her diaper, which was empty, so I put a naked Farrah on the toilet. Nothing. But she did think it was funny. As soon as I put her in the tub, then she peed. Dammit! I grabbed her and tried to get her to finish on the toilet, but to no avail. She was already done. However, last night was Farrah's beginning steps to potty training!!! Yay!

Another mile stone was this evening. Farrah had her first PB&J. Her first sandwich! She loved it. She struggled with eating the peanut butter because she had no idea how much chewing she'd have to do. She got tired from it pretty easily.

My computer is about to die from this long blog so I'll end with one more Farrah Fact. She now does the baby wet noodle. When she doesn't want to go where you take her, she becomes limp. If I'm walking with her and she doesn't want to go there, she goes limp, falls to the ground while I'm still holding her hand, making me look like an abusive mother dragging their child to the grocery store. It's funny how something can go from 20 pounds to 100 in a matter of seconds.

It's fun communicating with our girl and understanding a language only a parent can understand. It's weird, but very cool.

I Hurt

I am sitting in bed typing when I should be lying down. Today was a physically tough day for me that decided to completely land in my back. I had to run several errands which involved me taking Farrah out of the car, carrying her, or walking with her while bent over, and then ultimately picking her back up and placing her in her car seat. I had to go around the Marysville gym picking up weights that people decided to leave on the ground. I had to look up and down for paperwork that was missing in several different file cabinets. At lunch time, I brought Farrah home and cooked her lunch, followed by cooking my own. Then I had to get her off to bed for her nap time. Then it was play time for me and Mike. Then I went back to the gym to work on some stuff followed by working out my legs (squats, lunges, and leg extensions). After that, we needed some things from the grocery store so Farrah and I were off yet again. By the time I reached the store, I felt like I could hardly stand. I was leaning all my weight against the cart and walking in very slow motion. Something that should've taken 30 minutes, took me over an hour. Got home, Mike unloaded the car, we both unpacked everything, he cooked his diet dinner, I fed Farrah and cooked my dinner. It wasn't until 8:40 that I was able to sit with my feet up and eat. Mind you, I had to change a diaper in there and help Mike chase down our child from inevitable danger. I have taken something for the pain which is doing nothing, and now I am wrapping it up to try to sleep. I get to do it all over again tomorrow. Wheeeee!!!

Smack Down

Farrah has been beat up today. Not once, not twice, but 5 times!!! When we arrived at the daycare, her nemesis, Brook, came running with her hands forward and shoved them right into Farrah's face. Fingers landed in eyes and up nostrils. Farrah just looked at me and shook it off like it was no big deal because she is always bewildered by the daycare whenever she arrives. Brook is Farrah's nemesis because she, too, is so damn cute. It's a bit of a "cuteness" power struggle between the two of them. Brook is about 2 months older than Farrah (if that). Later, Farrah was in the aerobics room with the other children playing with balls and learning to do summer saults. When I walked in, the daycare lady had her show me a summer sault. When she was done and lying on her back with a big smile all full of pride from her accomplishment, Brook walked over with a 2 pound weight and dropped it on Farrah's face. This time, the tears were flowing. She was okay and able to shake it off, but Brook got a good scolding for that one. I even tattled to her mother about how mean she is to my kid. Probably about 5 minutes later, another little girl, about 2 years old, decided she wanted to pick Farrah up. By doing so, she put her arm around her throat and proceeded to lift. I ran over immediately saying, "N'n'n'n'n'n'n'no!" We had to explain to the little girl that she wasn't allowed to hold the little ones. UGH!!! After that, about and hour had gone by when I could hear my little girl shrieking from the daycare in my office. I got up to check, and a different daycare gal was holding Farrah (who was sobbing hysterically), handed her over to me and explained that one of the kids in the daycare was kicking a ball around the room and it was kicked into Farrah's face which forced her to fall back and hit her head. Okay, so now I'm just dying over the abuse my daughter has suffered throughout the day, and the day isn't even over yet! It is very difficult to be kind and polite to another child that has hurt yours, but you have to. You have to be kind and gentle depending on the circumstance, especially when the kid is 1, 2, or 3 years old. All of which are learning right from wrong, but unfortunately learning it all over my kids face.

Finally, when I ran into the bank to do the day's deposit, I was pulling Farrah out of her car seat and her head hit the side of the door. This time it was my fault. I was the bully. I felt HORRIBLE! She whined a little and rubbed her head, but went on and simply accepted that this was just the kind of day she was having. Sometimes, that's just what you have to do.

Mommy!

T.V. = "Mommy!"

Blanket = "Mommy!"

Chair = "Mommy!"

Diaper = "Mommy!"

Food = "Mommy!"

Up = "Mommy!"

Bath = "Mommy!"

Daddy = "Mommy!"



You get the idea. I am everything! How cool is that?!! However, it's quite the responsibility, too. Also, on the 18th, Farrah turned 18 months old.

Peace and Quiet

I decided I needed some time to myself and my thoughts and chose to do so by taking a bath. I ran the tub water and poured some bubble bath in. Once in, I tried to just lay there and relax, but to no avail. Popping bubbles are so freakin' loud. It was as if I took a bath in some rice crispies. Can't relax to all that noise. No bubbles next time.

Mother's Day '08

So, I received the best gift from my little girl. She learned how to say "I love you" which actually sounds like "ditto." Weird. However, every time I told her I loved her, she would say, "didd o" so I know that is what she is saying to me. Also, she had completely ignored me pretty much all day on Saturday until right before she went to bed. Completely different on Sunday. She came up to me several times to hug me and also to kiss me. We played together and laughed together. We had breakfast with Mike's mom and Dan and later met up with my family at my parent's house for London Broil. Everything was nice. I put her down with a big hug and a kiss. It was a good day. I love you, Farrah.