Just a quick post today to draw your attention to the lovely little Etsy button I’ve added in the sidebar on the right. Click on it, and you can see all my favourite Etsy items and shops. Now, go look at pretty things! Scoot!
Author: Lynn
Story teller. Web designer. Party planner. Pie maker.
FameThrowa, Don’t Even Bother Reading This Post
The other day Sir Monkeypants wanted to show Captain Jelly Belly the photos of the redwood forest that we took while visiting CapnPlanet and SmokingToaster in San Francisco. These photos are from 1999, back before we had a digital camera, so we wound up getting out all our “real” photo albums and flipping through them. I’ve always been a big picture taker, so we have many, many photo albums, dating back to around 1989.
While we were looking at the redwood forest shots, I noticed that I was wearing the same shirt as I was in the photos. That would make the t-shirt that I had on at least nine years old. Then I started looking back farther for the shirt. Back more, and more, and more…there are pictures of me in the shirt going back to 1992. The very same shirt I had on.
In fact, looking at the album from 1996 — twelve years ago — I recognized at least 90% of the clothes in those pictures as still being in my closet today. Sir Monkeypants was running at around 25%, I’d say.
This is hardly news. Every time I whine about the state of my wardrobe in my blog, poor FameThrowa volunteers to take me to the mall. It’s just that I find it hard to find the energy to go to the mall. It sucks the life out of you. Plus, I’d rather spend my limited disposable income on handbags from Etsy. Because no one will notice your 15-year-old shirt if it is accessorized with a cute handbag!
I really need to do some serious thinking about priorities. Someday my kids will be older and I’ll be dropping them off at school and they won’t even care about my handbag, they’ll be so embarrassed by my outfit. I want to be able to drop my kids off at the door, not down the block!
Ah, words to inspire me.
Jawabdari
The following bedtime conversation with Gal Smiley explains why my mother-in-law calls her a “jawabdari” — a sort of wiseacre, the kind of person who always has an answer for everything and a solution for every possible scenario.
Gal: I wish I had a TV in my room.
Me: But, you’re about to go to sleep. If you had a TV in your room, you couldn’t watch it now.
Gal [rolling eyes]: Not for now, for the morning. So I can turn it on as soon as I get up, and then I don’t even have to move, I can just watch TV!
Me: Sounds like a good plan. But sadly, there is no special plug in your room for a TV.
Gal: I have lots of plugs!
Me: Yes, but a TV takes a special kind of plug, a little round thing. Your room doesn’t have one.
Gal: How come your room has one?
Me: Well, when we built this house, we asked the builders to put one in our room. But not your room.
Gal [thinks for a minute]: I know! Let’s build a new house! And we can put TV plugs in my room, and Captain Jelly Belly’s room, and Little Miss Sunshine’s room!
Me: How very generous of you.
Gal: And, our new house will be right next door. And it will look just like this one, only with TV plugs in my room.
Me: Okay.
Gal: AND, you can’t go in the house when they are building it. It isn’t safe. So we should go away on a trip. For a LONG time. We should go to Nanny’s house for six months.
Me: Oh, dear.
Gal: And when we come home, the new house will be finished! I would like to move my things over first. Because I have a LOT of things.
Me: Naturally.
Gal: And my new room will be just like this one, only with a TV!
Me: QED. Now, go to bed.
Public Service Announcement
Yesterday I was humming “Fire and Rain” by James Taylor all day, so I finally loaded it up on YouTube and was listening to it when Sir Monkeypants got home from work.
He said, “What are you listening to?” And I said, “It’s YouTube,” because I assumed he meant, where did you get this song, because we don’t have this CD.
But really he meant, “What song is this?” And I was all, “You have never heard Fire and Rain? SERIOUSLY? How can you possibly expect to laugh at the contestants on Don’t Forget The Lyrics if you have never heard Fire and Rain?”
I am very, very far from being a music afficionado, so I always just assume that any song that I know, the general population would know. It shocks me that anyone out there has not heard one of the most beautiful songs ever written.
If anyone else out there does not know Fire and Rain by James Taylor, go listen now.
That is all.
Lady of the Flies
I never did figure out what was causing the bad smell in our laundry room; eventually it just seemed to fade away, and by the time we got back from our trip the house smelled normal again. Clearly, however, something was rotting in there that should not have been there, because now we are having an ant situation. I am so totally freaked out. We are currently weighing our ant-fighting options, so for now, I just go in there every morning and slay dozens and dozens of ants and then attempt to do some laundry as if it’s no big deal. Meanwhile, I’m dying inside from an excess of heebie jeebies.
The ant problem is in addition to an ongoing housefly problem we have around here. Every morning Sir Monkeypants takes out 4-6 flies in our upstairs bathroom. What the hell, flies? Where are they coming from? Why do they feel the need to be so clean? Maybe they’re attracted to the smell of moisturizer and baby powder. In any case, I am SO terribly over finding several dead flies in my bathtub every morning. Did I mention the heebie jeebies?
And then there’s the bees and the wasps. At least four times in the past month, there’s been a stinging type insect in the house. The kids have handled it much better than I have; I have a minor bug phobia and in every stinging bug case I have gotten the bug outside, then totally FREAKED OUT. Yesterday I was wiping up the kitchen counter and I saw something fluffy sitting there by the stove so I picked it up to throw it out and IT WAS A BEE. IN MY HAND. Have I told you about the HEEBIE JEEBIES?
Just now I found two spiders in the kids’ snack cabinet. Plus those little gnats continue to plague me every time I go outside to water the lawn — I ate two yesterday while taking the kids for an after-dinner bike ride.
Oh, and to top it all off, I’ve been reading up on head lice in preparation for the school year. Now I feel like my whole head is on fire and I cannot resist the urge to scratch. Plus, I may have mentioned it, the HEEBIE JEEBIES.
Thank goodness mosquito season is over or I’d have no recourse but to encase myself in Saran Wrap and hide in my room until December.
It’s Always Something
Little Miss Sunshine will be 14 months old in a few days. She’s an expert walker, she’s sleeping through the night, she eats just about everything (including sand, rocks, and grass). She’s saying several words and she can climb up on the kids’ beds and she can use a spoon.
In short, she’s developing normally.
But there’s this one thing. Isn’t there always one thing? Like, your kid seems fine but then all the other babies are rolling over and your kid doesn’t want to roll over and OH MY GOD, it’s an emergency! We have to work on rolling over! He must roll over NOW!
With Little Miss Sunshine, the issue is her teeth. She doesn’t have any. Not a one. At 14 months old.
I’m actually not all that worried. I come from a long line of late teethers, and Captain Jelly Belly in particular was very late with his teeth, not getting his first tooth until after he was 11 months old. Little Miss Sunshine is more than capable of eating anything and everything, with the sole exception of raw vegetables, so she’s doing just fine for food intake and chewing practice. Plus, this seems to be one of the rare development situations in which the internet is your friend — a simple search brought up dozens and dozens of stories of kids who didn’t get their first teeth until 18 months old and beyond, and all is well now.
It seems that really, the only reason to be concerned is that she’s now old enough to complain about them coming in. Complain LOUDLY. And OFTEN.
Since we got back from our trip to Southern Ontario, she’s been a huge crankmeister. Fussy all the time, never content unless Sir Monkeypants is dangling her upside down, constantly asking for something to eat and then crying when she tries to eat it. We assume this is teeth because she hasn’t turned 13 years old overnight. Has she?
I’ve heard that the older they are when they get their teeth, the more teeth will come in all at once…and thus, the more painful. I swear, if she doesn’t wake up tomorrow with eight new teeth in that head of hers, one of us is going out the window!
And I don’t even care which.
Ethan is so totally the new Dylan
I’ve already admitted it on this website before, but I’m still kind of embarrased to actually put it into writing. But I’ll be brave and just say it…I’ve seen every single episode of Beverly Hills, 90210.
I watched it faithfully through the entire 1990s. TEN seasons, people. I stuck with it long after it had jumped the shark (proposed jumping point: when Kelly and Brandon called off their wedding…discuss). Near the end there, it got bad. Very, very bad. Still, I couldn’t look away.
And now, there’s a new generation. The premiere of the new 90210 was this week. When I saw it in the satellite guide I felt my heart skip a beat. When I watched it last night, I actually squealed with delight when Shannen Doherty appeared onscreen.
I am already totally, hopelessly hooked. I have to find out what happens to Kelly! Who is the father of her baby? How are her parents doing? Will Erin Silver be okay? Will we get to see David Silver sometime? Will Hannah Zuckerman-Valesquez bring her mom, Andrea, by for a visit? And for the love of GOD, will we get to see more of Brenda? PLEASE?
Just when you think you’re out…they drag you back in!
Eeeeeet-see
Last night a gal pal that I haven’t seen in a couple of years called me up. She’s coming to town, which is so great, I’m really looking forward to it.
We chatted a bit and since she has always been a crafty person, talk turned to Etsy. I said, “Have you heard about Et-see?” And she said, “You mean, Eeet-see?” And I was like, “Oh my GOD, is it really eet-see? I’ve been pronouncing it wrong all this time? And I call myself an Etsy addict!”
As soon as I got off the phone call I raced to my laptop to see if I could confirm this shocking turn of events. While I was searching, Sir Monkeypants told me about this one time in high school that he was talking about Lord Of The Rings with his friend Tom, and Tom referred to the main character as “Frawdo,” much to the horror of all around him. And I totally understood how he felt.
But as it turns out, I was right. It is et-see (rhymes with Betsy). I confirmed it by watching a little video on the site, put together by the founders. They all say et-see, too.
Whew. I can now return, triumphant, to my regular daily schedule of Etsy surfing, head held high. Thank goodness!
Rogers And Me
Someday when they make a movie about my life — starring Lauren Graham — a major theme will be the evilness of Rogers Telecom. In fact, Rogers may turn out to be the big bad guy of the whole piece. I despise them.
I could count the ways, but that would take all day. Let’s just focus on their latest crime — my bill.
Lest you think I am a patron of Rogers by choice, I must explain that we’ve been returned to the circle of hell by Rogers’ buyout of Sprint Canada a few months ago. We have a toll free number that comes to the house, so that our moms can call us anytime without worrying about the cost, and the toll free line used to be provided to us by Sprint.
But no longer. Now, we have THEM. Providing us this “service.”
Since Rogers took over our toll free line, we’ve been getting bills from them every month. I’d love to be able to take a picture of my Rogers bill to post here, but unfortunately it is plastered with my full name and address and phone number, and I don’t want any Bell-haters hunting me down all Sharks-and-Jets style. So I’ll just have to walk you through it.
Settle in. Get comfy. Because it’s nine pages long. NINE PAGES. That’s nine SHEETS of paper.
Somewhere, a baby tree is crying.
Sheet one is a full sized sheet of white bond paper bearing nothing except my name, address, and the word CONFIDENTIAL in big scary letters. Back of the sheet? Blank. I can’t even bring myself to recycle this page, unless I let my kids colour all over it first.
Sheet two. On the front, a summary of my system charges, usage charges, and taxes, with a total at the bottom. Isn’t this really all I need? The bottom line? I guess Rogers needs seven more sheets to get their point across. Back of the sheet? Blank.
Sheet three. Here we have a “summary of account” that informs me that I have paid last months’ bill. I already know that from the last page, which told me my current outstanding balance. The back of the sheet lists “all” my toll free numbers, the total number of calls and minutes for each, and the “amount of savings” per number that I got by going with Rogers. Somehow, I find it very hard to believe that Rogers is SUCH an amazing company, they are giving me over 95% discount on my toll free calls, compared to other providers! Providers in the dark, uncharted regions of China, maybe. It’s just SO like Rogers to slip a little rah-rah, we rock, and by the way, BUY MORE, into their bill.
Sheet four. The front of the sheet contains, I KID YOU NOT, a TABLE OF CONTENTS for the remaining pages to come. Rogers actually considers this page to be the first page of my bill, despite the three sheets of paper that precede it. Guess I’ll be needing that table of contents to follow along with the MASSIVE TOME that is this bill. Back of the sheet? BLANK.
Sheet five. Oh wait a second — Rogers has labelled this page as “Page 1.” Guess I got that table of contents sheet for free. The front of this sheet takes a whole page to print out just one line, informing me that I am paying 0.00 in access charges. Good to know! The back of the sheet is actually used this time…to reprint the same one line informing me that I don’t pay any access charges. Whew, I wasn’t quite sure about that the first time I read it!
Sheet six. A list of all the toll free numbers I have. I have one. It’s not a heavy printed page. Back of the sheet? BLANK.
Sheet seven. This is a breakdown of where all our calls came in from, province-by-province, state-by-state. This month we had nine calls from Ontario (our moms) and three calls from Texas. That’s a typical bill for us — there appears to be a modem or fax machine somewhere in Texas that has our number and calls it a few times a month, to try to blow out my hearing with its high pitched whine. Thanks a lot, Texas! Back of the sheet? BLANK.
Sheet eight. Still with me? Here we have a list of all my toll free numbers, with the total charge for each number. Haven’t I seen this information before? I’ve lost track. Looking back…oh yes, this is identical to the back of sheet three. The back of sheet eight contains a list of every single call, the originating number, how long the call lasted, and its cost. I can see this report as being interesting to some, but Jesus, I can’t imagine how many pages it must be for an actual business that uses their toll free number for actual customer interaction. The Bell internet line alone must have hundreds and hundreds of pages of calls to report. Half of which are from our number. But that’s another post!
Sheet nine. A list of the number of calls we received in each hour of the day. In case you are curious, our peak calling time is from 10-10:59 am, when we received TWO calls instead of the usual one. How did we possibly handle the extra volume? And the back of this last sheet is…blank. Sigh.
I’d like to point out that back when we had Sprint providing our number, we’d get a ONE SHEET bill every OTHER month. The bottom of the bill would say, “You owe $14,81 this month. That amount will be charged to your credit card on June 16, 2007. Please call us at the number below if you have any questions.” And on the rare occasion I did have to call that number, someone answered, who helped me.
Our Rogers bill, in all its many, many pages, cannot tell me if the automatic payment that is supposed to be made on my credit card is schedule to go through or not, and if so, when that might happen. It might get paid. It might not. Let’s roll the dice, baby!
Oh, and I can’t pay it online, like I pay all my other bills, because my account number is missing a digit and does not conform to the Rogers Business Solutions online format. Of course, no one at Rogers can explain why my account number does not match the format. Also, the account number can’t be changed.
I’d love to go with e-billing — if they even have that at such a backwards, idiotic company — but the last time I tried that with Rogers, they never sent me any statements, but still took the money from my bank account, and CONVENIENTLY used the opportunity to more than double our rates because, they said, they were giving us SUCH GREAT DEALS on exciting new features, and I just can’t talk any more about that or Sir Monkeypants will be up listening to my teeth grind all night long.
So here’s what I want from Rogers:
- Use cheaper paper, print on both sides of every sheet, and don’t devote whole sheets to just my name and address. (There’s a little “recycled!” symbol in the bottom corner of each sheet, but the pages are very heavy and white, and there’s no way they are 100% recycled content.)
- Send me just one page per month with my statement summary; then give me an account on your website where I can generate reports and graphs if I need more detailed information.
- Give me an option for a full e-bill (for those who haven’t totally lost their trust in Rogers yet).
- Fix my bloody account number so I can pay online, or at least, let me know in my monthly bill the date and amount that you will be charging my credit card.
Apparently, that’s too much to ask.
In Which, I Am Extremely Self-Indulgent and Whiny
The other day I was talking to Mrs. Carl Sagan about going back to work. Her youngest starts preschool this year, leaving her with six glorious hours per week which she has all to herself, and she is thinking that she needs a more productive hobby than surfing on Etsy. She’s thinking about thinking about getting a job, maybe something in retail that would let her work just three mornings a week, but it seems like a lot of effort for not a lot of money. So she’s not sure.
I’ll be facing the same decision in a couple of years. Sir Monkeypants and I always thought that I’d go back to work once the youngest was in full-time school, and thanks to a recent decision by our school board, Little Miss Sunshine will be one of the first to experience all-day, every-day Junior Kindergarten in three years. Three years may sound like a long time, but I feel like I need to have an action plan in place now. If I need some retraining or time to break into a new field, I need to get started on that ahead of time.
I’m finding it to be a really sad, hard decision to make, though. Even though it’s hard and often boring and usually frustrating, I do love being home with the kids. I love that we get to paint together and play in the backyard together and just have time for chatting. I realize I would still see them if I were working but I can’t get my head around all the details — how do working moms find time to do the laundry, make dinner, clean the house, take out the garbage, shop for Christmas presents, plan birthday parties, write thank-you cards, and blog — and still have time to spend with their kids? It’s overwhelming.
I guess I want exactly what every other mother wants — a job that has completely flexible hours, that allows me to “work from home” at a moment’s notice when the kids get sick, doesn’t ask for any overtime or weekend hours, and pays a lot of money. That doesn’t seem like too much to ask, does it?
The other day I had an epiphany in which I thought, “Mrs. Carl Sagan and I should start our own Etsy shop!” We both love Etsy, it’d be totally flexible hours — we’d work whenever we feel like it. It would be fun and exciting to design our own jewelry/handbags/clothing/whatever. I actually got really excited about it.
Then I really thought about it. I had about six ideas of things I could make, mainly sewing projects. I did some pricing and once I considered the cost of supplies, how long it would take me to do the work, and what I thought people would actually pay as a markup, I think I’d make about…$1 an hour. And that doesn’t even take into account time spent shopping for fabric, creating new designs, and standing in line at the post office.
Totally not worth it. The dream is dead.
I also used to fantasize about being a writer — in particular, getting paid for blogging. I’m already doing it, I love it, I find time for it even on days when I’m caring for the kids full time — wouldn’t it be ideal if someone would just give me $100 000 a year to do it? One time I saw an interview with the writer of Woulda Coulda Shoulda, one of the top personal blogs on the net, and she admitted that she now made more from her blog than she ever made in her career as a programmer. Wow!
But I must say, after four years of blogging it seems like quite the unlikely scenario. There are, literally, a million bloggers in North America alone, and I’m sure at least half of them are housewives dreaming of making a living from their blogs, and there are probably less than 100 women in NA who are actually able to do so. So the odds do not look good.
I’m forced to admit that my old career — software development — is really about the closest I’m going to get to the dream job. It has very flexible hours, and most places will let you work from home when you want to. It pays really well, definitely enough to cover the cost of required daycare and have enough left over to pay for an annual family vacation.
Sigh.
Here are some things I’d rather do for a job than programming… Doctor. Midwife. Allergist. Nutritionist. Writer. Book-binder. Book editor. Librarian. Governor-General of Canada. Head of the IOC. Million-dollar winning Jeopardy contestant. School teacher. CBC Radio producer. Owner of a Tim Hortons franchise. Owner of my own vanity publishing business. Graphic designer.
Oh, and there’s also stay-at-home-mom/blogger/head of the PTA.
I think, though, that the world of software probably my best choice. Plus, I won’t have to hear my mom’s voice in my ear saying, “You’re wasting your brains and education by staying at home!”
Good thing I still have three years to suck it up, stop being such a whiny, self-indulgent baby, and get used to the idea of working again. Hell, I’ll probably love it when I get there.
TurtleHead 