This quote is from my company website.

“As Part of Our Family, No Employee, No Partner, Will Ever Be Treated Like A Number.”*

*Unless, of course, those numbers need to crunched…

“People are afraid like, what if my kid asks what porno is? Just tell them. Tell your kid that the porno’s not for you. My kid asked me what a porno is, I’m going to be like, guess what? Hannah Montana is not in it. Not yet. Are you still interested? Of course she’s not interested in it, because it has nothing to do with her world.” — Kevin Smith

In all honesty, I don’t have pornos in my house, but I like the “be honest” approach with kids.

Deja vu.

When I first started this blog, I wrote a post about a job loss. I was bitter, angry and anxious. Now, this round of layoff, I’m really looking forward to a change. My few classes have found me with new found confidence and hope for the future. Why did I wait so long to do this?

I think I have a job in the works. The pay is less, but the job is where my heart is and where my son is, nine hours a day. We still have to talk it through on the home front, but I feel like this is the window that has opened when a door was shut, so to speak.

Until then, I’m stuck at my job until the end of the week, cleaning up, being professional and trying to dwell on the negative. Surpisingly, I’m doing okay.

One of the most surprising things about being a mother is the enormous about of guilt I feel on a regular basis. If all mothers feel this way, (and I’m guessing they do) I’d like to take this moment and apologize to my mother for

A.) All of my teens and 20s

B.) Ever judging her parenting skills and

C.) Neglecting to thank her for her saint-like qualities.

Holy crap! I had no idea pre-children, that as a mother, if a child feels uncomfortable, sad, or angry and it’s in anyway indirectly because of you, as a mother, you feel as though you should perform hari-kari on yourself.

I’ve been taking two classes a week this past month. That’s two nights, for about 3 hours before bedtime; Zach is alone without me and only his Dad. During that time they get along fine. Zach loves his Daddy. But on Thursday night, he clings to me and only wants me around. No Daddy!! Needless to say it makes Mark feel bad and me, FEEL GUILT like I’ve never felt before.  I honestly feel guiltier than if I’d actually done something on purpose.

This morning the true aftermath of the two nights a week abandonment reared its ugly head. Once at the daycare parking lot he started saying, “No, I don’t want to go.” I got him a muffin, took off his coat, sat him down and kissed him goodbye. I made it successfully around the corner when Zach comes bursting out the classroom door, running down the hallway, arms flailing, yelling “Mommy!!”

The daycare teacher swooped him up and carried him away, reminiscent of a scene from a movie with a psych ward. Heartbreaking. I won’t be able to talk to him again until tomorrow morning.

Auuugh! The guilt!

I need to remind myself that this career move will benefit everyone in the end with more breaks, similar schedules and hopefully more family time.

I have been given the entire month of November off from Sunday school teaching. This was offered to me right on the verge of debating how I was going to fit it in with two classes, work and life.

Of course, being a freak, I suddenly began to question “why?”

The reason why, was because she has two girls who are back from college on break who can fill in.

My mind, being illogical, began to worry if I was a poor teacher who hasn’t been to regular service in two months as the real reason. Maybe it’s because I bring Zach. Maybe it’s because I made a joke about the kids being good “slaves” during a play dough brick building activity (suppose to mimic the work of the slaves in Egypt.)

Why do I do this to myself? It’s obviously not the reason.

I really needed a break, she could give me one and she did. End of story.

I’m just a little bit neurotic over here.

Then she complimented my freehand drawing of a donkey’s head. “Wow, maybe you really are meant to be a teacher,” she joked. Of course, I read waaay to much into that statement.

What do you mean?

My only redeeming quality as a teacher is that I can duplicate cartoons free-hand ?

I guess I really do need this break.

A little girl had just finished her first week of school.

I get so frustrated when I think about Halloween costumes, particulaly those for women. You can describe every costume by adding a “Slutty” in front of it, taking half the fabric out of the costume and EURIKA, you have a women’s costume.

A slutty nun. Note, the priest is not slutty. I think I’ll be a slutty Mother Teresa, because that’s a great Halloween costume idea. Ewww.

This morning when Mark was picking out clothing for Zach he looked at a 2T pair of blue jeans and said, “I can’t belive our little boy fits into pants this big!”

It’s amazing how differently time flies when you have a child. Four years ago, at the time of the last election, we were living childless, in a loft, experiencing a dorm-like experience for adults. Now we are snug in the suburbs, a neuclear family of three, with a roomful of toys, diapers and an active toddler. Sometimes I just sit back and think, “Wow, that change happened fast!”

The first year with our first child was almost as if we were moving in zero gravity. Life happened but it was such a slow-motion blur. It’s true, once they start walking, then talking, things speed up considerably. Suddenly, I’m on the way to work getting teary-eyed listening to the song “Cat’s in the Cradle.” (PMS? Who knows?)

My mother-in-law sent me this picture taken when Zach was 7 months old. Back when we could do stuff like this too him. Now we have to catch him!

On of students in Sunday school, while picking out pom poms for an art project told me that pink was his favorite color. Hot pink.

He is five, so he had no qualms about it.

Good for him! All colors should be available to both sexes. It turns out that Calvin Klien agrees with me.