quest for a faerie child

my blatant whining

We're back from what seems like the shortest honeymoon on record and within 15 minutes of entering the city limits, I was ready hightail it back to the little cabin with no bathroom or running water to hibernate with my husband and my baby and forget about that must-do part of life called work.  I had to stop up at the hill and pick up the first batch of applicant files to work with, approximately 1/6 of almost 600 files I will touch over the next 8 days.  Upon stepping into my manager's office (who also happens to be one of my best friends) I was met with problems which popped up about the schedule, the news that we decided to admit another batch of applicants to the cohort we sent admission letters to in early April and general work yuckiness that I quickly realized I was not ready for in any way shape or form.

In March, I was crazily going through almost 300 files all while Max was hospitalized for the second time due to that nasty infection.  Now the amount has doubled and I'm home and I can't say I'm all too thrilled with the prospect, especially when my first look at the files last night showed me that admissions changed the way they did a very important piece, a change that could cause my workload to double, when I realized that reviewers have again proved they cannot follow directions in a number of different areas and my almost five month old child is at the age where he is unhappy unless I or Moose are either holding him or sitting directly in front of him, looking at him and engaging him for every moment he is awake.

I will let you in on a little secret.  Anyone who dreams of staying home with their baby and working from home needs to reevaluate just exactly what that means and realize that working from home is an incredibly difficult prospect, especially when deadlines are an issue.

---Not that I would change our situation for one moment, because I wouldn't.  There aren't many people who wind up in work situations which allow both parents to work out of the home when their babies are babies.

However, after being completely unplugged from the world for a couple days, the reality of an admissions blitz directly upon reentry was a bit, well, shocking to me.The decision to double the student number for the cohort entering this summer has so many ramifications and it took me a couple hours before I realized just how many of those ramifications directly involve me and my work.  Once I did, you can bet there were some frantic calls made.  Once I realized that intricate schedule work I had completed just last week and sent off to get the rooms assigned, would have to be completely reworked because the rooms I wanted wouldn't accomodate the increase in size of the cohort, I felt a huge brick weighing on my chest and I found myself wondering how I was supposed to rework the entire year AND get through admissions, while working from home and caring for Max.

Then I cursed those who make decisions with no true idea of the depth of the ramifications for the administration of the program, with no thought to my pleas to make the decision weeks ago.  Yes, I knew about the possibility of this weeks ago and pleaded for a quick decision so that work could be completed and not have to be redone.

Ah well...  work was completed, will need to be redone and I guess I should look at it as job security if nothing else, right?

It's still irritating.  It still makes me want to tear out my hair.  But, after over five years, I should really begin to realize that decisions are made in somewhat of a vacuum and that's that.

So, we had a great trip.  We hiked the south falls trail down to the canyon floor and pushed the emperor back up in his heavier-than-hell jeep all-terain stroller, all while he protested that we weren't going fast enough for him.  Ha!  Doesn't he know his mother is woefully out of shape and it appears that Daddy is too.  Though, we did complete the hike and didn't die afterwards and completed it in a fair amount of time.  There's something to be said for that, right?

I brought the crockpot and cooked a rather satisfiying meal.  Ah the joys of slow-cooking.

And we spent the majority of the time outdoors.  Max is definitely his mother and father's son, because as soon as we got there and set him out on the picnic table, he started smiling at the world around him and pretty much stayed that way for the whole trip.  He's an outdoor boy.

I took massive amounts of video, with which I doubt I'll get to work at all in the next two weeks due to above mentioned admissions.  I also took some rather interesting pictures of Max that may make it into our hall of fame.

All in all, life is good.  ---despite my blatant whining about work... 

a typical woman

One good day does not a consistently good eater make.  Neither does two or three, which we discovered once again when the emperor had a complete freak attack during the 7pm feeding.  His behaviour was so out-of-character for him, screaming and screeching off and on for about an hour, and I mean the types of screams that say, "I'M SCARED" or "I'M IN PAIN, MOMMA!".  A call was made to the pediatrician on call, who just happened to know Max because she was on renal service last month when he was in the hospital for the first infection attack.

We almost brought him into the ER, but then decided to try taking him for a walk in the sling and sure enough, he quieted down and went to sleep.  Prior to that he was making the most god awful sound, that seemed somewhat of a cross between a cat or dog coughing up a furball and a hiccup.  It was involuntary and did not seem like a cough.  Eventually as he calmed down, they became less and less until they stopped.  However, I made the resident listen to them and she had not really ever heard a baby do that, which is something every momma always LOVES to hear.

Since then, he's been a bit of a pill about eating formula.  He's loving the water, but he's finicky about the formula.  So, we'll see....  Of course, I'm disappointed because he was a pretty good eater Wednesday, extraodinarily good on Thursday and Friday and all day Saturday until 7pm. 

Ah well, what can you do?

Roller roller coaster ride..... yes, indeedy.

In other news, I despise microsoft and am incredibly pissed off that you cannot purchase a computer without Vista on it.  OHSU does not support Vista and I'm having a fucking tremendously difficult time connecting remotely to the office, when I bought this computer to do JUST THAT... AND because I checked with the helpdesk prior to purchasing it, once I found out that I could not get XP in any computer, and I was told it was just a matter of switching some security settings.

HA!

Of course after I bought the damn computer, got  it home and tried to connect, I got someone on the helpdesk line who said, "OHSU does not support Vista".  I responded by saying, "You realize that you cannot purchase a new computer without Vista, right?  I mean, it's simply not possible."  Her response, "Yes, but we do not support Vista."  To which I replied, "So, what you are saying here is that you expect that none of the 13,000+ employees will need to purchase a new computer AND connect remotely?"  "We do not support Vista."

Fuck me...

Then I am incredibly pissed because Best Buy sold us a printer with the new computer and guess what?  The printer is only marginally compatible with Vista.

At this point in time, I want to throw the computer away and bomb Microsoft's Redmond campus.  Of course, I also just started my period for the first time since I delivered the emperor and I'm feeling a little out of sorts.  I'll just blame my rage on that.

Let's just be a typical woman...

kill me...

Attention Please:

I have a request.  Could someone please just kill me now?  I'd be ever so appreciative.  Thanks.

Love,

Kiernen

Seriously, to coin a beloved movie of mine from the early 90's:  "I want to kill and it's not just a spoke in my menstrual cycle."  (or pregnancy, as the case may be)

Our second orientation of the year was today.  The first was when I was about 6-8 weeks pregnant.  I'm here to say, there's a distinct difference between my body now and then.  My feet are throbbing, my back aching and I feel as if I am about to fall over from sheer exhaustion.  Thank god we don't have another one of these before the doodlebug makes an appearance.

On top of that, I'm entirely irritated from a work perspective because I seriously despise the fact that my work exploits competence.  I despise the fact that every program had students represented at this orientation and yet my program was the only program who actually staffed the damn thing adequately.  I'm tired of my program being the only one organized and the only one whose students did not have a problem, while the other programs (who shall remain nameless) had lost and clueless students in some arenas and weren't on hand to actually deal with them.

I despise people who have no initiative and whose excuse for everything is:  "I didn't know that was supposed to be done."  or "I thought someone else was doing that."  Take some responsibility for your job, for fuck's sake.  I despise that people leave an orientation in the hands of the program who only had 24 incoming students versus their 80+ students.  Where do you get off not having to take some responsibility?  Do you think your program pays me to answer your student's questions and to handle your messes because you haven't sufficiently prepared them?

Alright... I've sufficiently complained, at least to a level of which individuals will understand without me having to do a great deal of background explaining, which would be entirely boring for all concerned, including me.

This is one of those days where I want to drink wine and I want to drink it badly, as in down a bottle.  But instead, I'm sitting here downing water with my feet up and here is where I plan on staying for the remainder of the night....

in which i continue to complain

I am in a state this afternoon and I'm not entirely sure why.  Perhaps it has something to do with going back to work after almost a week off.  Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that I wear indecision like a cloak today and I find that quality highly irritating.  Perhaps it has something to do with being incredibly apethetic, having literally stuffed myself at lunch and being hungry beyond belief five hours later, craving vegetables and having nothing in the house because I neglected to shop for the rest of the week during my glorious break from work.

So, here I sit:  unable to decide what to eat for dinner, having nothing good for me in the house anyway, being too lazy and apathetic to actually go out and buy something, being too freaked about money and the fact that I inhaled thai food for lunch to want to order something in and finding myself in a raging bad mood as a consequence of all of the above.

I'm not supposed to be in a bad mood, though.  I'm supposed to be in an excited mood, a happy mood, an anticipatory mood as the big U-S is tomorrow and perhaps the doodlebug will accomodate by giving me a spread eagle shot of the goods.  Last night I had crazy dreams of the doodlebug being taken out of my belly at tomorrow's appointment to 'check it out' and to 'make sure all systems are a go' before it is put back inside.  I dreamt my neuro-opthamologist was conducting this 'procedure' and not the good people at Doernbecher.  I dreamt my neuro-opthamologist's wife was also attending the procedure and was pregnant, as well and had endured a miscarriage, as well.  My mind was cooking up some wacky things last night.

My bad mood could also have something to do with the fact that I am so incredibly exhausted.  4am mornings after multiple multiple days off are an absolute bitch.

Oh and I'm not writing.  I'm not writing and at this point, I don't know if I care.  Lately my creativity lies in my cooking, in creatively worrying about everything under the sun and in fantasizing about the doodlebug.  This doesn't leave much capacity for anything else.

in which I acknowledge the bitch factor

Woo!  I was unfailingly bitchy this morning, wasn't I?  Well, hot damn!  One could possibly think I might, in fact, be pregnant...given how I completely ripped some poor (or not so) unsuspecting blogger a new one.  I'm somewhat shocked by myself, but only marginally so, mind you.  I'm highly hormonal and extremely unforgiving when it comes to those who can't accept others.  Sometimes that comes out in my writing.

Right now, I am sitting here shocked to hell, --not as a result of my hormonal bitchiness, but as a result of the incredible indigestion I feel after snacking on a bowl of strawberries, blueberries, raspberries and blackberries.  Yikes, god help me.  Please?

don't drink the koolaid

By about 915am this morning, I had been awake for approximately a little over three and a half hours and found myself tottering back to bed to, 'just take a tiny little nap, ---just a wee nap.'  Up to that point, my day consisted of several teeter-tottery trips to the bathroom before I finally realized somewhere between 530am and 6am that I was not going to be sleeping any longer.

I got up, fuzzy-haired and sleepy-eyed to wander aimlessly around the house, before deciding to peruse blogs from the comfort of my bed, instead.  That's where things got distressing for me.

You see, I am always on the lookout for good reads because, well, they inspire me.  I like to read people who are as self-deprecating in a genuine manner as I believe I am.  I mean seriously, I'm the first to call myself a nerd or a doofus or a complete idiot and not because I want you to tell me I'm not.  Oh no, please agree with me.  Believe me, my thoughts and actions are incredibly noteworthy in those respects and I know it.  I mean I know it.

So, I've found some truly stellar reads, which I find myself growing quite addicted to.  And then, I've found some, well, not-so-riveting reads, wherein I can't get past the first sentence or two, or the look of it, or something equally snotty on my part.

Recently, I seem to have come across an influx of blogs dedicated to letting everyone who reads them know that the author not only believes in Jesus but is an avid and devout follower.  In order to make this known, each post contains a reference to Jesus or God in some way or another.  I've come to the realization that I have no time for this. 

Now, I respect people's beliefs and I have friends who consider themselves to be devoutly religious and not just in the christian-sense.  However, what makes these people individuals with whom I will spend time, is that they do not feel it necessary to proclaim themselves believers every single time I speak with them.  It is a part of them that comes out in their actions or in their attitudes, but it does not have to be shouted-from-the-rooftop, if you get my drift.  This belief of theirs is what makes them who they are and is part of what makes me love them so much.

But dude, I came across a blog today and I really just felt like I had stepped back into the 1950's, aka Pleasantville era and I was disturbed enough to exclaim aloud, 'Oh my god!'

The person quoted a very well-known character on an HBO series which has since ended but has been picked up in syndication on one of the turner networks.  Now the quote, I remember the quote from the show very well.  In fact, I could hear the character saying it as I was reading it.  I found it to be rather profound and dealt with the idea of safe sex and what that truly meant, that it was meant only in the physical sense, but what about the emotional sense.  Was it ever safe?

As I was reading that quote, I thought, 'wow, now here's someone I can read if they're quoting this!'  I thought that for about 30 seconds, until I read further down and realized that the author had called the show 'slutty' and tied up the post with some snide little statement about how things wouldn't really be right for the character unless she could stop having sex with men outside of marriage.

Yikes.  Hello?

Yeah, that ring makes it alllll better.

So, I was left there with my mouth hanging open, pondering the idea of entertainment and why people clearly sit and watch a show, bash it for moral purposes and then preach to its characters and anyone who might be watching the show.  I was left thinking about how the christian coalition generally has this idea that people can be infected by what they see or read, as if they aren't free-thinking humans capable of rational thought and logical action.  Get rid of that show, buddy.  It's got some bad bad sexual people on there!  Warning, Warning, sex alert ---may cause watchers to run around having sex with people they don't know!

I watch the Sopranos, yo.  But, I can tell you what.  Watching that show and even loving that show, does not really make me want to go out and shoot a guy in the kneecaps while smoking a big fat cigar because, yanno, Tony does it and Tony is cool, dude.  Sometimes I'll even think, 'what would Tony do?'  But not because I want to emulate him, just because I have an active imagination and wonder about things sometimes.  Anyway, I watch it for entertainment purposes.  I watch it but I can honestly tell you that my moral compass is not swayed by what I see.  After I watch it, I sometimes think, 'jesus christ, that was intense' or some such exclamatory profanity will pop into my head. 

But, I do not think about coming on the blog and writing a post about how Tony probably wouldn't need to see a damn therapist if he'd stop fucking around on his wife or would stop ordering hits on people. If he'd, yanno, follow the tenets of Jesus all would be right with his life.

I'm sure this post offends.  But quite frankly, I was offended by what I read.  I was appalled by what I read, so appalled that I briefly considered leaving a little comment.  However, I did not.  I decided that the author is entitled to their opinion, however limited, however short-sighted, however damn-close-to-bigoted it may be.

Besides, I feel entirely better taking up my blog-space to complain about it today.  The only thing which irritates me is that I was so bothered by the it that I forgot to make note of what blog it was.  So, I am bound to come back around to it some time and wind up in another bad twilight zone episode where I've been transported to an alternate reality of followers who drink nothing but the damn koolaid and boy do they love it.