Exciting, yet Scary Times Ahead

I’ve been told my job has been impacted.  Translation:  Yer fired!  My last day with my current company will be 2/29/2016, which will be here before you know it.  I hate to admit this, but I’ve gotten really comfortable at my cushy, six-figure corporate job.  And now that the reality is starting to sink in, what kind of income loss that will be for our family, I’m starting to freak the fuck out.

What if I can’t find a job right away?  What if I can’t find anything even close to what I’m making now?  What if no one wants to hire me?  What if I bring financial ruin upon our family?  These are just some of the questions that have been flitting in out and of my thoughts these days.  I keep trying to reassure myself that things WILL be OK.  I truly believe shit does happen for a reason.

In terms of what I’m going to do in the future, I’ve stumbled upon two awesome opportunities that leave me feeling, dare I say, hopeful.  The first one is more short-term, but one that both my husband and I are really excited about.  We will be hosting 2 exchange students from Brazil from 11/8 – 12/5.  These are adult students (age 18-35) that are learning English.  I will have to take them to / from class, and thank gawd I have the flexibility with my current job to be able to do that for them.  The coolest part?  Having our daughter be around people from different countries AND building an international “family” of sorts.

The second opportunity is a continuing education class on big data / data analytics.  The job I’m currently in has really strayed from what I’ve done (and enjoyed doing).  As a result, I feel like I’ve lost some valuable brain cells by being in a role that has been less than challenging.  I’m thrilled to get back to something that I really enjoy doing, working with data, and putting it to use in a new-ish career field.  It really is thrilling to see that there is such a need for this AND these types of jobs command exceptional salaries.  More than anything though, I want something with some flexibility.  This would provide that.

The part that freaks me out is that the program costs almost $4k.  That’s a lot of money for a certificate program, but I’m hoping it will payoff in the end.  The other scary thing about this is the thought “Have I got what it takes to do this?”  The program is 10 Saturdays, which involve all-day sessions (from 8:30-5).  That’s quite a commitment my friends.  And it’s a lot of technical information that will be thrown at us in a short amount of time.  I’m so nervous, but at the same time, cannot wait for the opportunity to dig into something meaty again.  Challenge myself.  Try something new.  Learn.  Grow.  Carve a new path for myself.

Don’t get me wrong.  I’m so thankful for this current job.  It’s provided some awesome opportunities for me and my family.  I’ve had a ton of flexibility.  I was able to take 3 months off after having Vivi.  I’m truly lucky, I do realize this.

I feel like the timing of all this (exchange students, program, job ending) is all very serendipitous and that the universe is really looking out for me.  It’s gently telling me, “Hey Robin, it’s time for a course change…time to direct you to your next awesome opportunity.”  I stand tall, hyperventilating from nervousness and excitement about what the future holds for me.

Screw the Anger (Away)

As a relatively new mom, I’ve struggled with postpartum rage.  If I’m quite honest, it’s been a little lot disturbing to me how fast I can go from docile to raging beast mode (I clocked it…it’s like 2.13 seconds).  I’m sure it’s a combination of hormones, adjusting to parenthood, stress of current job/life situation.  It’s really been a perfect storm of sorts these days.  Most of this rage has been directed at my husband….maybe because he’s front and center in my life?  I dunno.  I’ve been struggling with a way to deal with it, but believe I may have finally found a solution.  Finally.  And I’m happy to report it’s a drug-free solution – one that is all natural!

My solution (queue the drum roll!):  screw the anger away.  Literally.  Banging my husband and having a big (or small) O helps immensely.  I was so excited to share this new revelation with him the other night.

Me:  Do you know how to make me less angry?  Screw me regularly.  Like pound me hard kind of sex.

Husband stares at me, blinking rapidly.

Me:  I’m being TOTALLY serious!  How can anyone be angry after a session like that?!?  

Husband laughs.

It’s a win-win right?  It will help me and our relationship at the same time!  It will bring us closer, and get back to some normalcy after the long road of pregnancy and caring for a newborn.

We put it into practice earlier this week and got it on 3 nights in a row!  And let me tell you, it’s certainly helped.  I’ve noticed that I’m much less angrier, nor do I get upset if the husband leaves his shit laying around.  For those of you who do it more regularly, that is like half the times we’ve done it since Vivi was born…10 months ago.  So 3 nights in a row is quite a feat for us these days!

I’m happy to report that one of those sessions left me with a bruise on the side of my ribs.  Kind of a warrior badge, if you will.  I will certainly take one for the team in order to help tame the angry beast within!

Lavendar is TOO relaxing

            So I find that every now and then essential oils come up in discussions on common childhood ailments and issues. In the beginning I was totally skeptical, but then I was rocking a gassy three month old who was screaming his head off and I figured, it couldn’t get worse. I gave it a try. While I am nowhere near being “a new believer” I will say that the results are pretty damn remarkable. I’ve used oil concoctions for teething, gas, and runny noses to date. Stuff works, gotta give the EO people that. Joe was incredibly fussy the other day and I figured why not add some oil to his bath to help calm him down a bit quicker before bed. I added the oils and left Joe in the tub with my husband to watch over him and wash him off.

Within five minutes of finishing the dishes I hear “LAVENDAR IS TOO RELAXING! THERE IS CRAP IN THE TUB!!!” coming from the bathroom. Apparently Joe was relaxed enough to poop in the tub, something my husband had never experienced before. I walk in to see him holding Joe up in one arm and using the strainer we keep in the bathroom for his toys after baths to fish out the poop which, according to him was “disintegrating too quickly to catch all of it”. I was laughing too hard at the stressful issue at hand while I tell him to pull the plug and “just rinse him off, and I’ll clean up”. I have a feeling I should copyright that saying for as much as I say it with him.

My husband is a social creature and immediately took to informing a dad-to-be friend of ours of all that he has to look forward to… as though that was helpful.

*sigh*

Ella

Feeling Overwhelmed and a Shitty Wife, Mom, Employee, Person

Warning:  This post contains quite a few swear words.  I’ve fucking warned you!

In an effort to be ‘positive’ about my impending work layoff, I’ve created a countdown of work days that are left.  I need to stay 94 work days in order to receive a severance package.  94 days!!!  That seems like an eternity from now, given how I feel about everything.  Even though this work reorg had been in the works and I’d been expecting to be impacted, I’ve had very mixed emotions this week about everything.  I’m feeling totally overwhelmed, grumpy, downright bitchy and a terrible wife, mom, employee and person.  I’ve vacillated between “It’s gonna be OK!” to “What are we going to do?!” and I’ve spent a lot of time feeling completely and utterly numb.

Found out yesterday that instead of reporting to my current boss through the rest of the calendar year, the “new” manager wants to meet with us so they can get started ASAP!  Way to be a go-getter.  Funny part?  We are US based, and the new regime is in Singapore or Hong Kong or some other place in Asia….so how’s that gonna work?  It’s a 12 hour time difference.  My current boss hears this news, pitches a fit and leaves work at noon (after coming in at 10AM).  And I wanted to say to her, “Wait, why are you upset?  This doesn’t even affect you…you won’t report to them!”

And on top of that, based on the information we’re getting, the new regime thinks my coworker and I are going to automatically re-apply for our jobs.  What a huge assumption to make, considering this is the second time in less than a year, that I’ve been basically “fired” and told I could re-apply for my job…if I wanted to.  No thank you.  No fucking thank you.  Our meeting with them on Monday should be interesting, as I plan on leading that discussion with…”I have no intention of re-applying….”  I know that I’m a good worker.  I’m productive, hard working, but man this shit has been demoralizing…the message that I’m getting is that the work I’ve done isn’t valued or appreciated.  And that’s a bitter pill to swallow, considering I always try to put forth my very best effort.

I had been bitching to my husband Wednesday night at dinner that our general manager hasn’t said a word to me about being impacted.  Not a “Hey I’m sorry this happened to you” or something like that…even if it is fake!!!!  Let’s at least try to fake some compassion.  I’m sorry that I bitched about it, because yesterday he said to me, “Hey, well at least I could let you work from Hawaii in between firings…”  [Sidenote:  My husband had a work assignment in Hawaii for 3 months…and I was ‘allowed’ to work remotely for a total of weeks so I wouldn’t be caring for our 3 month old child ALL BY MYSELF.]  So fucking compassionate of him to say that right?  Asshole.

Last thing I will mention about work, before I move on to my other complaints bitches, is how fucking dumb are people if they really expect us to produce when we’ve just been told we won’t have jobs?!?  I mean, what kind of fucking fantasy land do they live in?

Husband will be traveling next week for work.  He told me he wasn’t going to travel during the month of October, but realistically, with what is going on his job, I knew that wasn’t going to be possible.  So next week he’ll be gone from Tuesday – Friday.  Let’s hope I don’t lose my shit again when he’s gone.

Husband wants to invite mother-in-law to come here to ‘help’ me when he’s gone next week, and also for next month, when he will be traveling for most of the month.  Ah Dios Mio!   My mother-in-law is a little 4 foot Hispanic woman who doesn’t speak a lick of English.  I know enough Spanish to be dangerous, but clearly there is a communication gap between us.  So let’s leave us alone together for a week with a baby!  Yes!  Because that sounds like one more thing I need to fucking deal with right now, doesn’t it?

Vivi must be going through some kind of developmental leap these days, because she’s just whiny whenever you set her down for onesinglesecond.  And honestly, it’s been so fucking annoying for me.  It’s been so bad that I’ve been telling the husband that I will walk the dog so he can get her ready because I need the break.

I was walking the dog yesterday, and had Vivi in the jogging stroller and I sprained my ankle so badly.  It was like “Bam!  Bitch goes down!” because I completely fell forward, my ankle completely twisting.

And ordinarily our cute little dog never bothers me, but he just put his paws on my leg and was talking to me like “Hey mom how are you?” And in response I yelled, “SHUT UP!  LEAVE ME ALONE!”

I even went to therapy this week, although I don’t think you can tell based on this post.  Therapy is one of my coping skills.  I believe everyone needs therapy.  I’ve been working out and eating copious amounts of peanut butter fudge too.  I’ve got mad coping skillz.

I don’t know where I’m really going with this, but I want to shout out:  “UNIVERSE CAN YOU GIVE ME A FUCKING BREAK FROM ALL THIS STRESS?  AND I’M NOT TALKING ABOUT A BROKEN BONE…LIKE A REPRIEVE FROM THIS BEFORE I END UP IN THE LOONY BIN!!!!!”

Note:  If you see no more posts from me after this, I’m probably in a room with padded walls.

Ella training – a total work in progress

My stride must be off. It feels like one leg is longer than the other, almost like I’m dragging one leg. Knee surgery from high school is messing with me, I always baby my left leg and when I attempted to jog on the treadmill for the first time in… well… ever, I noticed that it seemed like I was dragging my leg. The way my left foot hit was different and after one singular mile my hips hurt… so off to chiropractor and running shoe store (easy up-sell for today) for an evaluation I will go.
I actually have an appointment to talk to my general doctor about my gait, to make sure it’s not something I need old people orthopedic shoes for… cause those, those babies are hella sexy

But the answers to why I’m doing this are as follows:

YES I totally got caught up in Robin’s hype and excitement for doing a runDisney event.

YES I want to stay on track for continuing to lose the weight I gained before, during, and after baby.

YES I totally want to do this damn thing that I’ve talked about doing for over three years now and be held accountable by someone who will be doing it with me…

but mainly, and this is so so fucking wrong, but I’m doing this damn thing because a cocksucker in another department was joking with a co-worker of mine. When the subject came up that I was going to do this whole 1/2 marathon event, his response was, “she doesn’t even like getting up to go to the printer”. Fucka youa dude.

like OUCH, did you really need to say that? Yes I’m incredibly lazy here at my state office job. But I stay in my corner cubicle to avoid hearing those kinds of interactions. The audible conversations of those that have nothing better to do than to shit talk about other people. Not going to lie; Robin and I are total damn bitches on gChat about other people but we do it in private, like the fucking ladies we are.

So there you have it, where I’m at so far and the reasons for running.

Having My Best Week Ever (not true!)

You remember that VH1 show, Best Week Ever?!?  By referencing that show, does it show my age?  Ah, well, hell….let me tell you the week I’ve just had.

Last Thursday – Sunday:  We have had a trip planned to LA for several months so of course I get sick right before we fly out.  Thanks for sharing your germs from daycare kiddo!

Monday:  Work from home because I’m feeling like absolute crap and guessing my coworkers will be happy that I’m not going in to the office to “share” this with them.  Went to doctor and confirmed that I have upper respiratory infection and because I’m still nursing, there’s not really anything I can take unless I want to dry up my supply.  Bonus/plus side?  My doctor was pretty hawt.

Monday Night:  Husband tells me that his work trip, which was supposed to be a day trip on Tuesday will now last until Friday.  Wake up in the middle of the night and I feel a lump in my boob.  Don’t give it much thought as I roll over and go back to bed.

Tuesday Morning:  Work from home again because I’m still not feeling great/hacking all the time AND am pretty sure now that I’ve got my second case of mastitis.  My right boob is throbbing anytime I move around.  I’ve been trying to hand express to get the milk out, and also put moist heat on it, but not really helping much.  FML.

Tuesday at 11AM:  Jump on a “catch up call” with my coworker, boss, and director to find out that the latest reorg puts me, my coworker, my director, and about 10 other people of our 25 person team out of jobs.  I was expecting this, but there’s something to be said for hearing someone tell you “Congratulations – you’re getting laid off/let go/bye Felicia!”  We were told our last day would be 2/29/2016…a day that occurs once every four years.  What a special occasion!

Tuesday at noon:  Mastitis is confirmed with slight fever and boob that is all red and inflamed.  Call dr. to get prescription for antibiotic since I’ve been here before…thanks to my friend Angela for that suggestion because I’d have probably waited until I felt like complete and total shit, requiring a middle-of-the-night ER visit.  Add finding new daycare to the to-do list because of massive issues.

Tuesday evening:  Talk to husband and have total meltdown on the phone, complete with ugly crying, repeating “I can’t adult any more today”.

Wednesday morning:  Still at home, took a sick day because I need to rest AND because I no longer give two shits about my (soon-to-be-eliminated) job.  My idea of “relaxing”?  Cleaning up my shit sty of a house.  Relaxing fail.

Thursday:  Finally go in to work and virtually no one in our department is there.  I get it, with the happenings of this week, but we have 5 months until our last day…it’s a little early to start checking out everyone, isn’t it?  Leave work early myself to enroll daughter in new daycare.  Go to pick her up from daycare that we are about to fire and the ladies ask me, “Did you not bring any food for Viv?”  Um, what?!?  You didn’t feed her all day then and I see hardly any milk has been drank.  Oh even better – they fed her food that we didn’t authorize, and they sound unsure of what they fed her.  Let’s just hope she doesn’t have allergies to anything because I don’t know WTF she ate.   Please, please, PLEASE dear God do not let me lose my shit.  If I end up in jail, it will be a solid 24 hours before the husband can bail me out.

Friday:  Inform daycare that we are pulling our daughter from them.  Best part?  When I pick her up a few hours later after working a short day, they even fuck up packing up her supplies.  I was missing two bottles full of milk THAT THEY DIDN’T FEED HER.  Husband had to stop on his way home after his flight landed.

Friday Night:  Drank a beer and listened to my husband tell me all about his wild night during his business trip.  I got to hear how they were out until 3AM, their dinner bill for 9 people came to $1,400, they went for drinks later (that was $500 alone), and lastly, but surely not least, they ended up at a strip club.  I honestly don’t care about the strip club part, but way to regale me about your adventures when I’m stuck here, sick, and managing to (barely) hold down the fort.  I love my husband deeply but sometimes I want to slap his fucking face off.

Saturday Morning:  As I write this blog post, I’ve been awake since around 3:30AM.  I’ve fed and clothed the baby, changed 2 diapers, walked the dog, got showered, and am currently writing out my grocery list.  I went upstairs around 7AM with the baby, and the husband was still half asleep.  He’d been sleeping for about 11 hours, and when I mentioned that to him, he replies, “So?!?”  And then commented about how he was making up for my lack of sleep.  How thoughtful, huh?!?

Conclusion:  I need to buy a lottery ticket because my luck has got swing back up at some point, right?!?  It HAS to…that’s what I keep telling myself.

I ran out of diapers

             My child is borderline lactose intolerant, like he can have milk as long as that is his only dairy for the day. If he has cheese then he better not have more than a couple of cups of milk. We have ratios and in general we know how to work with his diet. My husband apparently pays attention to none of that. In one of the rare occasions that he tried to help out by giving me time in the house alone; he went out with Joe. He was gone for a total of three hours, to the library, the zoo, the grocery store and even the parking lot for an impromptu nap. You know, when a kid passes out within two minutes of getting to your destination and the number one rule is to never wake a sleeping baby… yea…

            Well, during his outing I was occansioanlly receiving picture text updates of where they were and what they were doing. It went something like this

At the library: he sure does love that fish tank

At the zoo: look babe, he loves ice cream

Parking Lot: guess I have to wait to go inside huh?

At the store: I think we need this mask

I did not reply because, well, my hands were covered in paint and I pretty much got all these texts at once. But I noticed the ice cream and thought… he knows better, he has to… and then I hear the garage door open. I count the steps, yes he’s rushing, and then I hear the door slam… YUP he’s rushing. I greet my husband who is holding a pissed off toddler and a disheveled diaper bag. This is how it went down:

Husband: I ran out of diapers, I had to bring him home, that diarrhea is unbelievable, I don’t know what he ate that made him poop so much, it’s everywhere…

ME: How much dairy did he have?

Husband: He only had his bottle, the rest was just his snack poofs while we were shopping….he went through three diapers in an hour!

ME: so not TWO cones of ice cream?

Husband: He LOVED THOSE

ME: I love chocolate, that doesn’t mean it won’t turn on me and make me fat…

Husband: I’ll go get the bath ready….

We’re Nucking Futs (or Fucking Nuts)

“Do. Or do not. There is no try.” – Yoda

Ella and I registered for a Disney Star Wars Half Marathon.  Are we regular runners?  Not by a 5k.  Are we super fit?  Um, you tell me.  We googled “half marathon training for lardos”.  Are we out of our minds?  Probably.  Definitely.  This is how our chat went leading up to registration.  I’d like to add that I really do know how to type without using ALL CAPS but they seemed appropriate for this convo.

Ella:  remember when i said my goal was to run a disney marathon like this year
lol
yea

Robin:  yeah.  MAYBE YOU SHOULD DO THIS ONE WITH ME

Ella:  that didnt happen
hahahaha

Robin:  WE COULD DIE TOGETHER

Ella:  hahahhaa
#goals

Robin:  LIKE THELMA & LOUISE

Ella:  off we run into the distance

Robin:  I meant ‘do together’ not die together

Ella:  see you at the hospital
hahahha

Robin:  FREUDIAN SLIP

There you have it, the logic behind our decision.  Let’s hope that this conversation doesn’t become “famous last words” for us.  Follow us for 1/2 marathon training for lardos.  Errrr….MILFs in training (not to die).