So, 2011

First, the executive summary: 2011 was a hard, stressful year for me. I'd say it was the hardest year I've had since I got divorced.

I had a lot of work stress, as I lost a trusted employee and hired/trained a new one, all while doing the work of two people on my own.

I had a ton of family stress, mostly related to Tosc's new schedule. I was WOEFULLY unprepared for how that would affect me. I went from seeing Tosc every morning, every evening, and every weekend, to seeing him once every THREE days. Even that I could probably have handled, if not for the INSANITY of his schedule with the kids. Basically, every weekend we had the girls I had at least one day where I was on my own with all 3 kids.

I am going to be completely honest and admit that I have some built-up resentment over this, both towards Tosc and his ex-wife (who is not willing to give up her free time even when she knows that Tosc cannot be with the kids). I also feel the situation affected my time with Ava, which is NOT acceptable to me.

Well, anyway. Things will improve once Tosc finishes his paramedic training, but it's been a major contributor to a pretty shitty year for me (in Tosc's defense, he has committed to take off the daytime hours [6am-6pm, half of his shift] on Saturdays and Sundays we have the girls in 2012).

So, definitely sadder. I miss Tosc and my relationship with him has suffered this year. I don't know that it was my best parenting year, either. I was stressed and frustrated and downright pissed off a lot of the time. Nice.

Furthermore, I am fatter! Which should be a total no-shitter, as everyone knows that I deal with stress by eating and drinking. So incredibly effective, I think we can all agree. I will say that, athletic-performance-wise, I am at least as fit, and definitely stronger, than I was last year. I continue to love working out with my trainer. It's really just my diet that's been crap. Story of my life.

However, I am richer! Yay! I got a raise this year, and Tosc finally sold his house. So things aren't COMPLETELY in the shitter, Debbie Downer.

What else?

Kindergarten has gone unexpectedly well. Ava LOVES her teacher (a fellow Fake Hispanic!), which I guess is all that really matters at her age (in classic fashion, I "endeared" myself early on by declaring her parent-teacher conference schedule "a beating." Sigh). School scheduling continues to be an epic pain in the ass, but that seems to be pretty standard, so at least I've got the misery-loves-company thing going for me.

Carlos and I did not have a completely miserable year. Pretty sad that he gets his own paragraph here, but my dealings with him, unfortunately, affect my life in a significant way ("your addiction [to being an asshole] has affected me negatively in the following ways"...). He even asked me to watch Fussypants Junior a few weeks ago (which I am happy to do anytime). So! Progress! Well, except for the part where he called Christmas Eve drunk as a skunk, wanted to talk to Ava, and when I refused called me a bitch and a whore, but you know. Bright Spots.

Well, there you have it! FTLOG, send me a link to your year-end post, or at a minimum leave me your happier/thinner/richer answers.

See you on First Monday!! Aww yeah, baby. Eye of the Tiger. GET PUMPED.

Year End Checklist

Why have I not seen any year-end memes yet? It's December 28th, FTLOG! Are we all hedging to be sure nothing of material effect happens this week? Just get on with it, I'll write you a subsequent events clause <-- (CPA "JOKE").

I am reminded here of the unfortunate phrase I repeatedly use to beat down Tosc: "WHEN WERE YOU PLANNING ON TAKING CARE OF THAT?" Ugg. It's the new TITFTLOG. I am such a shrew. In my defense, he's a wicked procrastinator (said the pot).

2012 Calendars! Would you like to see the Wall 'O Calendars in my office? You've got your payroll calendar, year-at-a-glance with kid schedule marked, academic calendar, and regular one-month-at-a-time wall calendar, marked with Tosc's shifts (pink), weekends we have the girls (yellow), and room to write other appointments. The year-at-a-glance calendar is KEY in my world. When things come up, I have to be able to see immediately whether we will have the kids and whether Tosc will be working. Fucking insane-o scheduling bullshit.

I am wracked with fear that I've somehow fucked up the pink shift highlighting and RUINED THE ENTIRE YEAR. You can see I already blew it on January 3rd. Sarcastic slow clap. OR! What if Tosc gets moved from C shift to A or B shift? I can't even.

Well, I guess I'll write a year-end post, so you've got that going for you (SPOILER: sadder/fatter/richer).

You show me yours, I'll show you mine? Wait, I already sort of showed you mine. It has to be YOUR bull...

Money, sex, and...fine, just money

I like how Jane talks so openly about money. No one does that. I guess as a CPA, I don't see what the big deal is. People sure as hell don't seem to mind going around squawking about their diet goals and how faaaaat they are. But god forbid anyone get the sense that you have FINANCIAL goals that require sacrifice.

So, Tess, what are your financial goals? So glad you asked.

*I want to take at least one vacation a year. I want to travel to MN with Ava at least once a year.

*I want a maximum of one car payment at a time (between the two of us).

*I want to be able to pay Ava's college tuition. I'm okay if she has to take out loans for living expenses. Even that makes me a little bitter, since no one paid for MY shit. I do recognize that minimal student loans are a significant advantage, though. BLAH BLAH BLAH PRIVILEGED UNGRATEFUL BASTARDS. Tangent: do you know that Tosc's grandmother paid for ALL of her grandchildren's college expenses? I just...I don't even...he didn't even WORK, you guys. BOGGLE.

*I don't plan on retiring. Like, ever.

DISCUSS.

OCCUPY THE LUNCHBOX

Man, I was a straight DICK to Tosc last night. Uch. I literally bitched at him, shrew-style, for like a solid hour. What was the occasion, you ask? Oh, just the last evening we have alone together for the next two weeks. SARCASTIC SLOW CLAP. I know what you're thinking. Maybe we'll get divorced so YOU can marry me and gain unfettered access to my considerable array of bullshit. Don't worry, I've been wicked busy hating myself all morning. In between the HOURS and HOURS of budget meetings. So, best day ever, basically.

I've been pretty foul lately. I think that much is clear. I miss Tosc and I'm eating shit food and drinking too much and I don't like any of the new fall shows and MY PETS HEADS ARE FALLING OFF. Is what I'm saying.

Well, anyway. Shake it OFF, Eeyore. Let's run the highlight reel, shall we?

*I went to Mexico with bestie Woz, to celebrate (?) the fact that she is moving back to London to finish out her work visa. If you've never had the pleasure, traveling with Woz is like traveling with fucking George Clooney in Up In The Air. It's all Executive Platinum and all-you-can-drink and free wifi and shit. I highly recommend it. All of the perks by osmosis, without the pesky soul-sucking business travel. I'll check if she's taking applications for new friends.

*On the plane we were seated in first-class (OBV), and this INSANE woman kept brow-beating the flight attendant about the (free!) wine selection. She was all, "You don't have anything TOP SHELF? Is that TYPICAL?" It was like a legit SNL skit, complete with faux-sympathetic flaming gay flight attendant. Which part didn't you get, the BUH, or the BYE?

*We were neither raped nor murdered during the course of our stay, which is always nice when you're two young(ish) gals traveling alone in Mexico. Well, unless you count the EAR RAPE at the hands of the Jon-and-Kate motherfuckers lounging near us by the pool. We're talking douchey Asian dude, cranky white bitch, the whole nine. It was uncanny. She ripped him a new one at top volume for about an hour, at which point she huffed off to the other side of the pool. THEN, about 30 minutes later, she "allowed" him to move all of their shit and come sit by her. The poor bastard DID it too! God, I really hope they were newlyweds. Best of luck to you, sir.

*Carlos and I are just now recovering from our latest feud, aka Lunchgate. We pack Ava's lunch each day, because he's a cheap control freak and because I bought a shit ton of bento stuff in a stress-induced back-to-school fugue state. Anyway, there were several days when Carlos picked her up and she hadn't eaten the lunch I packed for her. Here's how I feel about this: mildly irritated at the waste of food, effort, MOTHERLY LOVE, etc. but otherwise unaffected. Here's how Carlos feels about this: SHE HAS TO EAT, FOAH THE LOVE OF GAWD. SHE CAN'T STAHVE ALL DAY. So. A healthy discourse ensued. Him: "Tell her to eat!" Me: "Nope." And so on. In the end, we agreed to disagree. By which I mean, I hung up on him.

AAAAaaand, we're full circle on me being a dick. I like it. Feels tidy.

September

My browser is no longer supported by the new Blogger interface. Outstanding. If I could choose one thing to improve my Blogger Experience, it would be that.

So, how are things? It's September in Texas, so life is a living, breathing hell, thanks for asking. Pretty standard. It's going to be almost 100 degrees today, just as a point of reference.

Ava, after school yesterday: I wish I was already in COLLEGE!

Me: [this is gonna be good] Why?

Ava, SHEDDING REAL, no shit TEARS: Because I DON'T LIKE TEXAS! It is TOO HOT for me!

You see a non-sequiter, I see an effective joint smear campaign by two Yankee parents. Turns out we CAN collaborate on the truly IMPORTANT things, e.g. an early and solid foundation in Texas: Places Other Than.

You see, Ava and I had a conversation the last time we were in Minnesota about how I left to go to college in Texas, and how she could go to college in Minnesota, or New Hampshire, or Boston, if she wants to (I realize there are TECHNICALLY other options, but these are all places she's familiar with, the spoiled, world-traveling little shit).

Anyway, SEED PLANTED, obv. She's going to Minnesota again in October, and Pennsylvania in November, so we'll no doubt start receiving Penn State catalogs shortly.

...aaaand then she'll end up going to Ole Miss or some shit, just to piss me off. Oh pipe down, REBELS. It's the September talking.

Kinder...yawn? What does that even MEAN? GAWD.

Well, I've read enough blog posts by parents of kindergarten-elects to confirm that I am a freakish outlier when it comes to KinderEmotion. I haven't been able to drum up much melancholy over the fact that Ava is starting public school in 10 days. I mean, I haven't exactly TRIED; I'm not the type to whip out The Kissing Hand and Let the Feelings Wash Over Me, but I did give it some thought, and...nothing. Well, not NOTHING nothing, I'm not COMPLETELY heartless, but nothing SAD. What IS that? Have I been tranq-ed* without my knowledge? Believe me, I realize this isn't normal. I guess I AM a little squirrelly about the new environment and unfamiliar faces, but uh, that's mostly FOR ME. I had to call the school yesterday and I hung up thinking, "OH GOD THEY HATE ME! They are adding me to the Wall of Rage in the staff restroom AS WE SPEAK!" And so on.

On the other hand, Ava's been going to "school" since she was 10 weeks old. The only difference now is that it's FREE. Ish. Aside from the property taxes and the after school care and the nickel-and-diming over lunches and supplies and "holiday" care for early release days every other fucking week. Reminds me of the time her daycare had the balls to send out a letter explaining that they could no longer provide "free" lunches. Aside from the THOUSAND DOLLARS PER MONTH they collect in tuition. Well, whatever. If the district wants to declare September 21st a holiday and charge me $25 to keep my kid in public school, then that's how it's gonna go. I realize I've gone from Paying Customer to You Get What You Get and You Don't Throw a Fit. It's just a shame that my employer is such a holiday-hating Grinch. Next I suppose I'll be here on Arbor Day!

Oh, but wait, here's a Kinderfret: Carlos and Carlosita are both teachers. So, how does THAT work, in terms of teacher relations? Is it like doctors, who are notoriously wicked bad patients? Are they going to second-guess and nitpick and horror-story every little thing? I mean, it's not like Carlos to CRITICIZE, but. You know.

Hmm, let's see what else I have to bitch about. I will no longer be able to use the HOV lane during my commutes, since I'll be dropping off/picking up near the house, and not near my office. Which seriously fucking blows. Actually, I think I might be able to squeeze out a few rogue tears for THAT angle. Don't GOOOO, HOV LANE! STAY WITH YOUR MAMA WHO LOVES YOU FOREVAAHHHH!

Ready, set...GO!

(DO YOU SEE WHAT I DID THERE?)

*I really want "tranq-ed" to be a word, but...well, it's a bit awkward, isn't it. Nope, don't see that one going viral. Ah well.

Friday

*It's truly disturbing how invested I am in the Gene Simmons family. I mean, really. Do you guys watch Gene Simmons: Family Jewels? If not, I'm going to go ahead and recommend that you take it up. Yes, I'm being serious. These people are just...well, they're awesome. I don't know how else to put it. And not in an irritating, trainwreck-y, Kardashian kind of way. Like, they are ACTUALLY awesome. As people. Anyway, Gene Simmons and Shannon Tweed (his ex-Playmate girlfriend of like TWENTY-SEVEN YEARS or some ridiculous shit) are on the brink of breaking up. Which doesn't SOUND upsetting, but TOTALLY IS, if you watch the show. Also, Nick Simmons has to be the funniest dude on reality tv, and you just KNOW that kid gets more ass than...well, his dad, I guess. Circle of Life.

*I try not to indulge in the Body Image Weirdsies, but if I DID, I could see how Ava's upcoming birthday party would be a right fine opportunity. I mean, a POOL PARTY, at my ex-husband's house, with his fiancee in attendance, as well as the parents of Ava's soccer teammates. Yrgg. Also, I am reminded of the possibility that I am a DICK for having a parents-invited pool party in the first place, and potentially making OTHER people uncomfortable. What's that you say? I am not actually responsible for the feelings of others? Ha! HAHAHAHA! Wouldn't that be a hoot.

*My reading habits are increasingly random and schizophrenic, as evidenced by my last two book choices: Unequal Childhoods: Class, Race, and Family Life by Annette Laureau and Spooky Little Girl by Laurie Notaro. I liked them both. Unequal Childhoods, in particular, is probably a candidate for one of my tiresome book reports slash Looky-What-I-Done-Read-Lately posts. (you see what I did there? I PRETENDED like I was up for dedicating a post to the book, when you and I both know that we could just discuss it in the comments and call it a day).

Bitter

Uch, I am the ONLY person on EARTH who has to work today. No, I am. This is completely unacceptable! So far this morning I've sent 5 emails and gotten 5 out-of-office replies. Feeling a leeeetle sorry for myself, I must say.

Well, we ARE going to the lake tonight after Tosc gets through with paramedic school. At TEN PM. So, at least we'll avoid traffic? Pfft. His insane work schedule is totally putting a buzzkill on our summer, I have to tell you. If you've consulted your 2011 firefighter/EMS shift calendar lately, then you know that Tosc has to work a 24-hour shift on Sunday. Which is convenient. So, we're driving out to the lake tonight, then he has to drive BACK home on Saturday night and back to the lake AGAIN on Monday morning. RIDIC.

Well, anyway. Not my problem, as I plan to be fully submerged in my Kindle and a bottle of east Texas blueberry wine for the entirety of the weekend (Ava's out east with Carlos for the week).

Furthermore, Monday's our anniversary! One whole year! As Tosc said, I have officially lasted longer than his first wife! CHRIST. He is so romantical, isn't he?

I sort of like having a July 4th anniversary, in a cheesy way. It's easy to remember, and I'm always off work. I have found myself somewhat...OVERDOING the July 4th decorations and serving platters and festive napkins and shit, though. Not sure what that's about, but I think it has to do with FEEELINGS.

What else? Carlos and I decided to have a joint party for Ava's birthday, at HIS HOUSE. I KNOW. Seems risky, and it IS risky, as it requires us to get along for, like, another THREE WEEKS. If it works out, it could be a huge win, though. I was an ADULT before my parents ever spent more than 10 minutes in the same room, and they divorced when I was SIX. I'll keep you posted. Notice how I SKATE right past this topic so as not to anger the...divorce gods, or whatever. (You better PRAY TO THE GOD of SKINNY PUNKS that this wind doesn't pick up, or I'm coming over there and shoving an oar up your ass!)(Tommy Boy Quote Tourettes)(Totally a Thing).

In other news, it's hotter than Toby's ass here, like 100-degrees-for-weeks-on-end hot, which is completely standard but horrifying nonetheless. Also, expensive. Tis the season for $400 electric bills! Fa la la la la! I love how Texas PRETENDS to be all cheap and reasonable-cost-of-living-y, and then once you're here it bends you right over with the utility thing. "Oh, you wanted to maintain an indoor temperature in the DOUBLE digits? Well, I'm afraid that is a PREMIUM UPGRADE!"

Fucking Texas, blah blah blah. Anyway, I came up with the brilliant(ish) idea to get a toaster oven to keep on our patio, instead of using the oven inside.

Yeah, I know it's not so much a TOASTER oven as it is an...OVEN oven. Obviously I had to get one that could fit a full-sized frozen pizza, otherwise WHAT IS THE POINT?

I call it my "summer kitchen." Just like Little House on the Prairie! With small appliances and frozen convenience foods. Also, an outdoor TV and misters. Whatever. The covered porch is basically a lean-to. If you squint real hard.

Bucking the Rider

Well, I'm in a decent mood, for once. Hold your applause/sarcastic slow claps.

We had a good holiday weekend. I got to spend a bonus Saturday with Ava since she was sick and Carlos had an outdoor soccer tournament (it wasn't my weekend). Then, we spent Sunday and Monday at the lake, since Tosc actually had 2 days off in a row! Good times. Tosc and I even had a little...INCIDENT on Sunday night, and yet I am STILL in a good mood!

We'll get into all that, but first I need to tell you that I'm reading a good book right now called Switch: How to Change When Change is Hard. I like to alternate fiction with nonfiction, and I've been having some really good luck with the nonfiction lately. Like you care. Just stay with me here, this is going somewhere (ish).

Anyway, the book is not so much about CHANGE, necessarily, as it is about behavior in general, why we do the things we do, and how we can make behaving a certain way easier. BLAH BLAH BLAH, I know, but the authors use this "Elephant and Rider" analogy for human behavior that I have found SO HELPFUL AND ACCURATE. The idea is that the Rider is the brains of the operation, and the Elephant is the brawn/emotion. You may have noticed that the Elephant is ALSO the larger/more powerful side (CUE FORESHADOWING MUSIC).

The point here is that the Rider has a limited amount of energy to devote to controlling the path of the (bigger, stronger) Elephant. He gets tired, man. He has limited self-control. And when he's too tired to hold the reins anymore, the Elephant takes over.

Okay, enough with the Wild Kingdom bullshit. I MAY have had a minor Rider/Elephant FAIL on Sunday night, is what I'm saying.

I knew ahead of time that on Sunday night Tosc and I were going to be hanging out with a group of his friends from high school, including a girl that he has dated off and on for years, most recently right before WE started dating. Which is fine. I'm not insecure about my relationship with Tosc, and we're in our mid 30's ftlog. We all have pasts at this point. So, my desired behavior was this: be cool about it, have a good time, and make this girl feel comfortable in an awkward situation. This is SO the Rider talking, amiright? Well, it was a reasonable goal, and I do like to think that my personal Rider's rein-holding forearms are somewhat more...ROBUST than average.

So. The first stop in my journey on the High Road was to make the Rider EEEEVER so tipsy on boxed wine. Genius. Best idea ever, I think we can all agree. Thanks for that one, ELEPHANT.

However, my Rider is not easily deterred. My Rider has a genetic alcohol tolerance unexplainable by modern science, and has also been working out with a trainer for over a year now. I'm just saying. So, I chose a chair right next to the girl. I introduced myself and started asking her about her daughter and her work. She gave me exactly two one-word answers, and then got up and walked away.

So, that went well. Fine, fine, my Rider says. Just leave her alone. Yes, if anything the situation is now MORE AWK THAN EVER, and the Elephant is getting squirmy and harder to control, but we are fine. We are STILL ON THE PATH towards the desired behavior.

Then someone tells an old story involving the two of them. Everyone laughs, while my Elephant indulges in a brief trampling fantasy. The girl goes inside and spends the next hour chit-chatting with Tosc's parents, as if they are OLD PALS. Which they are.

RIDER GROWING WEARY. Reins are slippery with sweat and boxed wine. Can't. Hang. On. Rider feels as if he is participating in the final Survivor immunity challenge, the one that always involves hanging on to something until you inevitably lose your grip and/or your mind. It's also almost 11pm, which at this stage of life is WAYYY past the Rider's bedtime.

Now let's turn our attention to Tosc. His Rider, never a particularly impressive physical specimen to begin with, has drunkenly fallen off hours ago. His Elephant is in FULL CONTROL, galloping to and fro like an idiot, periodically plunging his trunk into Miller Lite tall boys and gleefully spraying the crowd.

As if on cue, Tosc's Elephant makes what can GENEROUSLY be described as a Piss-Poor Decision (I'll spare you the details, because we still like Tosc around here, I'd like to keep it that way, and because both of our Riders are now back at 100%).

You guys. My Rider didn't just temporarily drop the reins. He was straight-up BUCKED OFF by the Elephant, 8 Seconds-style, landing unconscious by the side of the path. To use a Tosc-ism, I fucking TWISTED. I stormed off. I had a "conversation" with Tosc which included the phrase "YOU HAVE LOST YOUR FUCKING MIND!" I CRIED, people. (!!)

Gawd Almighty. So, that was attractive.

Well, anyway, turns out this whole kicky fable is a bit anti-climactic, since Tosc's Rider was able to splash a little water on his face and have a cup of coffee in time to climb back aboard and salvage the situation. But the point is, when I was reading Switch the next day, I was all, "YEP. I AM AS PREDICTABLE AS THE NEXT ASSHOLE."

And I'm still in a good mood! Just goes to show that the Elephant is a fickle and pea-brained bastard. The End.

Fine, thanks, and you?

So, I was supposed to have surgery this morning to remove my remaining two wisdom teeth, but thanks to the impenetrable labyrinth that is our US healthcare system I've been (temporarily) spared. I don't know if this is a good thing or a bad thing, but I do know that I'm not in any position to argue since the doctor is doing the surgery for FREE. (!) Well, except for whatever he can squeeze from the arid rock that is my dental coverage, which I'm sure is laughable at best.

Honestly, I sort of feel awkward/nervous tummy about accepting a ridiculous amount of free(ish) dental work, but the doctor INSISTED, you guys. This is the kind of thing that happens to Tosc, who is in good with doctors and dentists all across Texas due to his trips to Romania to provide medical and dental care to poor people. I'm not even making that up. I guess it pays to be a Good Person. Not that I would know. Fucking Tosc and his Public Servant/Man of the People schtick, always making me look like a selfish asshole in comparison. WHICH I AM, but that is neither here nor there.

Speaking of which, I'm having a hard time adjusting to Tosc's new schedule. He works 24 hours every C shift, and then every A shift (the next day) he has paramedic school from 6-10pm. Since I don't get HOME until 6 pm, that means we basically go two days without seeing each other. Awesome. And unless a B shift falls on a weekend, I'm working, so I don't see him the NEXT day either, until the evening. When he has to go to bed early, so he can be at the station at 5:45 am for C shift. ARE YOU FOLLOWING ALL OF THIS? Yeah. Me neither.

And then there's our schedule with the girls. HOW'S THAT GOING, you say? HAHA! I just....I don't even...it's CHAOS, at the moment, is what it is.

Earlier this week, Tosc and his ex had a huge blow-out (Tosc said the conversation "cleared the fire station," and you know it's bad when that happens, since those guys are hardly delicate flowers).

Tosc's ex-wife feels that they should keep a Wednesdays and every-other-weekend schedule, Full Stop, and if Tosc is not able to be with the girls because he is working or at school (which happens TWO OUT OF EVERY THREE DAYS), then that is his problem. So basically, she does not care who is watching them, as long as it is not her. Oh, I'M sorry, was that bitchy? Well, maybe it's because when he expressed his concerns, she told him, AND I QUOTE, that his "new little wifey needs to step up the plate".

!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You know, this is seriously disappointing, because Tosc's ex-wife and I actually have several things in common, despite her being mostly the anti-me, and I really hoped that we would all be able to spend time together and get along. And maybe that can still happen. In the meantime, though, I must say with 100% sincerity, from the bottom of my conflict-avoidant heart:

FUCK YOU BITCH! If I DO step up to the plate, I'm sure as hell not batting for YOUR fucking team! And if that's the way you want to play it, then I'll be happy to retire to the stands with a plate of nachos and a beer! Manage your own fucking roster! ARE WE DONE WITH THE KICKY BASEBALL ANALOGIES YET?

Jesus H. Christ. That made me so fucking angry, you guys. So of course, I immediately sent Tosc an EPIC TOME of an email (I'm more reasonable in writing)(THIS IS ME BEING REASONABLE) explaining my concerns and position on the situation, which, just to review, can be summarized as: FUCK YOU BITCH! YOU'RE NOT THE BOSS OF ME!

Uch. Poor Tosc. What an enjoyable and life-affirming day that must have been for him. Don't you wish you were in his shoes, so that you could have TWO wives with mutually exclusive preferences up your ass AT ALL TIMES? Makes the polygamy thing look SERIOUSLY unattractive.

Kinderfuck, part 2342 of ???

I can't think of anything good to say.

The kindergarten issue is mostly resolved, with Ava registered at our neighborhood school and the twins registered (in different classrooms) at the school near their mom's house. One of the girls is completely freaked out at the idea of separating, whereas I think the other is actually looking forward to it. Twin parents, is that typical? What do you do if one twin LOVES her class, and the other HATES hers? GAH!

Ava and I did the orientation thing at her school. I chose to attend the session that was held at 1:30pm, and I sort of wish I hadn't (there was an evening option also). I'm pretty sure I was one of the only WOH parents there, and everyone else seemed to know each other. HOW? Older kids? I felt awkward and out of place and wicked overdressed (I was in my work clothes). Uch. I HATE HATE HATE to feed any of the mommywars bullshit, but the truth is I did not feel comfortable. What IS that?

In Ava's "parent/teacher conference" (at fucking DAYCARE *HUGE EYEROLL*), her teacher told us that she often plays by herself, and that we should encourage her to "reach out to new friends".

HA! Yes, I'm clearly the person for THAT job.

Help Wanted

I'm still looking for a new employee, and let me tell you this: I am SO GLAD I'm not looking for a job right now. It's been several years since I had to hire someone, and I didn't realize what a DICK I've become in the meantime! I've read literally a hundred cover letters and resumes, and discarded nearly as many for the most minor of "infractions," up to and including:

*Douchey-sounding name, such as Arthur Cooper Worthington III.
*Prominently-listed sorority involvement. I don't think so, Buffy.
*Inexplicably unsettling sentence "flow" (???)
*MENSA membership. Honestly.
*Clear Texas A&M superfan status. No. I am NOT UP FOR THAT, so sorry.

And these are BESIDES the obvious spelling/grammar errors, wacky email addresses, and not-so-subtle indications that English is a second language.

I've even been judging people based on their ADDRESSES! Which I'm sure is a great idea, but whatever. Don't put it on there! Is that so effing hard? What do I need your address for anyway? Telegram inviting you to an interview? Pfft. Don't think I won't Google Earth that shit, either.

Well, anyway. Can't wait to get going on the face-to-face interviews, since I'm SO AWESOME at being Formal and Appropriate. Gawd. I'll end up walking each person out to their car while casually asking the Super Secret Questions:

*Do you drink, and if so, what's your poison?
*What kind of music do you plan on listening to, and exactly what decibel level do you consider a "reasonable volume"?
*The Office: Funny or Idontgettit?
*Larry The Cable Guy: Funny or Idontgettit?
*On a scale of 1-10, what is your level of offense at my "I Wish I Were Dead" coffee mug? What about my "Meetings: none of us is as dumb as all of us" poster?

Aaand, that's basically all I need to know, right there.

Let me tell you why I SUCK as a salesman. I mean parent.

So, what's new? I'll tell you what's NOT new, and that's how I suck at being any type of UberMom.

Exhibit A: I was Snack Mom for the first soccer game of the season, and I brought those little individual packages of sliced apples and grapes. Perfectly acceptable snack, if you ask me. HOWEVER. In the ensuing 4 weeks, each and every parent has brought either Nutter Butters or Cheez Its or something squarely in the cookie/cracker family. DAMN IT! So, now I look like the DoucheMom who Frowny-Face Disapproves of processed foods, which I think we can all agree could not be more hilarious. SON OF A. In my defense, you have to err on the side of the Douche when you are FIRST as snack mom, amiright? Well, next season I'm bringing pixie sticks and trash-can punch, I'll tell you that much. I will not be bested in a who-cares-least-about-processed-food competition.

Exhibit B: Ava's school is having an egg hunt on Friday, and we had to bring 20 filled eggs. I let her pick out the candy, and fill the eggs, and blah blah Heartwarming Easter Activities. It wasn't until I literally BOLTED AWAKE at 2 am that I remembered the candy she chose (and put in the eggs) was Reese's Eggs. As in, Reese's PEANUT BUTTER eggs. OF DEATH. So, I had to haul ass out of bed and secretly remove the offending eggs (to the candy dish, obv). Christ. I hope she doesn't notice, or she will TWIST.

Exhibit C: Carlos is planning an end-of-season event for Ava's soccer team to see an FC Dallas game. He told me about it last week, and I was all, "sounds like fun!". Yeah, I meant FOR THE GIRLS. I was not planning on going, and now he's giving me wicked SHIT about it! Wha? The game is on a SUNDAY NIGHT, on HIS weekend with Ava, and furthermore I have already wasted YEARS of my life watching soccer and I'm not about to willingly flush any more unless my own kid is involved, and even then there will be mild bitterness bubbling juuuust below the surface. I told him I thought he could handle it. I mean, really. Actually, you know what? Fuck that, I don't even feel bad about this one.

Bonus: I signed Ava up for kindergarten (at our neighborhood school) last week, and when they asked me what I wanted to check for "race", I was like, "uh". I picked Hispanic, but I'm telling you it was wicked fucking awkward. Other than Ava's last name, there is absolutely no sign that we are anything other than your Regulation Suburban Whiteys. But, you can only pick ONE! Fake Hispanic was not even an OPTION! Gah.

What is this uncomfortable sensation?

I'm feeling anxious today, which rarely happens to me. I must say, it is quite unpleasant. I'm good for the occasional squirrelly day, but that's really more of an excited/distracted/too much to do/too much coffee sitch. This is more of a stress/worry/feeling of DOOM thing. Pleasant. It's funny, as I was sitting at my desk drinking my coffee I actually thought to myself, "Oh. This is anxiety." Do other people sit around picking their feelings out of a lineup in a disassociative manner? I mean, BESIDES serial killers? I'm thinking no. Anyway. Navel-gazing tangent.

The employee who is basically my right hand (wo)man is leaving in two weeks. She's been here 7 years, and after that amount of time there are things she does that I just straight-up have no fucking clue how to do. I'm sure that makes me a bad manager, but there you have it. So, I'll have to debrief her in the next 10 days, which also happen to be our busiest days of the month. THEN, I'll have to write an employment ad, and read resumes, and INTERVIEW PEOPLE OMG NOOOOOOO. Does anyone want to come work for me? You can totally use my private potty and I'm embarrassingly laid-back about pretty much everything. *whimper*

Speaking of my unfortunate lack of Give A Shit, what if she's leaving because of ME? I mean, she SAYS she isn't, but HR is always going around harping about how people don't leave JOBS, they leave MANAGERS! That's ME! Son of a!

Today is also Tosc's first day at his new gig. I have some low-level Nervous Tummy about this, but I can't pinpoint exactly why. The scheduling thing is still on my mind. I'm worried that he's going to feel awk as the 35-year-old Rookie, or that there will be some type of heinous...HAZING situation that will make him hate it.

I guess I'm also feeling a little left behind. Several key people in my life are moving on to new opportunities, and I'm...not. I think it's fair to say that I'm pretty far behind my peers at the moment, in terms of career advancement. Which doesn't normally bother me, so I'm not sure WTF my problem is today. Other than the loving embrace of GENERALIZED ANXIETY.

I don't know. My current job is a good fit for me at this stage in my life, in terms of work/life balance. Or at least that's the warm fuzzy story I TELL myself. Still, I sometimes wonder if my general level of contentedness and ability to shake it off screws me over in terms of Living My Best Life or WTFE.

Oh, for fuck's sake. This is the most ridiculous thing I've ever written. Were you in the mood for Feelings today? NO? Well, TALK TO THE ANXIETY. Aka Nervous Tummy of DOOOOM.



THIS is the best Google Images can do for "anxiety"? I like this more for SERENITY NOW slash I Need A Cocktail. WTF's THE DIFF you say. It's a subtle distinction, I'll give you that. All of you other mental people know what I mean. It's less "GodDAMN other people suck" and more "other people's sucking is certain to result in my imminent demise, and there's not a damn thing I can do about it"

Runnah

So, Tosc and I ran the half marathon on Sunday. We didn’t set any records, obviously, but we both finished, which was the goal. I’m wicked proud of him, actually, because I know running is in no way easy for him. I mean, running a half marathon isn’t easy for ANYONE, but you know. The dude has almost 150 lbs on me. Plus he’s had knee surgery, he doesn’t exactly have a runner’s body, he eats like shit on a good day*, you get the idea. Hmm, I digressed briefly into Dick Mode there. Apologies. What I MEANT to say is that it's a huge accomplishment and I'm grateful that he did it for me, and I'm so proud, etc. etc.

Do I have any pictures? Of course not! Pull your head out.

I do have one of the girls at the Expo on Saturday, if you must break the monotony with a visual:

Probably inadvisable to pump them full of Shot Blox, Sports Beans, and Muscle Milk, but YOU try explaining the difference. Wait, was that a douchey inside RUNNAH'S JOKE? Uch.

*Back to Dick Mode: do you know that Tosc blames ME for his horrifying eating habits? He says he, and I quote, “only eats what I feed him.” Oh, I’M sorry! And here I thought there was FREE WILL involved! It’s true that I usually pack his lunch, and that I typically cook dinner, but a) he only eats what I pack about half of the time, with the other half evenly split between Chik-fil-a and Taco Bueno and b) there’s a certain amount of…creative application of condiments/side dishes/peripherals happening ON THE REG. For example, he regularly eats chips and salsa while I’m getting dinner ready. He puts ranch on everything, he has bread with most meals, he drinks beer and Dr. Pepper, he declines the side salad that I have with pretty much every dinner, he’ll eat a PB&J before bed, ETFC. And let’s not even DISCUSS going out for dinner, which we do often. So, as you can see, I AM TRYING TO KILL HIM! If it weren’t for me, he would be a regular Michael Pollan! Bah.

Friday

Welp, I've only managed to show up for work twice this week, since Carlos texted me Wednesday morning saying Ava's "throat hurt when she swallowed." Ruh roh. She was positive for strep, obv. And I was the lucky winnah in the "who stays home feeling midly guilty even though they have a shit ton of sick days" sweepstakes. Apparently, Carlos is a teacher now? (Tosc: "what the hell does he teach?" Me: "THE DARK ARTS, obv"). Anyway, they are getting ready for TAKS testing and so he can't take off work, blah blah blah. This is really more background than was strictly necessary. Well, it's Friday and I'm feeling chatty. Go with it.

The sickerton:
Is it me, or does she look straight-up Real Hispanic in this picture? Well, anyway, let's pump the brakes before I say something (else) awkward and offensive. You do get a sense of the real estate taken up by the LoveSac in this pic, don't you? It doesn't even fit in the damned frame! Of my smartphone, but still. It makes an outstanding SickNest, I'll give it that. In conclusion, do I need to call the Penn State Paranormal team, or? WTF are those..rays of light on the wall? Must be ANGELZ PERTECTIN MAH SICK BEBEH. Heh. Just kidding. Angels aren't real. The Penn State Paranormal team, though, they're totally Good People.

Anyhoo, being home with Ava for two days reminds me how utterly ineffective I am at homemaking. We ran some errands yesterday morning, and when we got home I thought to myself, "I have ALL DAY! I can make a lovely and nutritious dinner FROM SCRATCH, the way I always dream of doing while rotting away at my desk!". Except that by the time I got my shit together and started going through recipes, it was like 10am, and we had to go to the store for ingredients, so that meant homemade bread or anything in the crockpot was pretty much out, and...yeah. Turns out you actually have to PLAN if you want to do the from-scratch thing, even if you have all day. Never my forte, I think we can all agree on that.

(I went with the chicken enchiladas and homemade salsa, both from Pioneer Woman. Thanks for asking)

In two days at home, I did 1 (one) load of laundry, and 0 (zero) other cleaning tasks. Wow.

In my defense, and I'm not sure if you guys knew this or not, but staying home alone with a kid, even a sick one, is a pain in the ass! You heard me!

Listen, the last time I spent two straight weekdays home alone with Ava, she was about 10 weeks old. I didn't have to play a SINGLE GAME of "Sight Word Bingo," is what I'm saying. I'm not sure who woke up one day and decided Sight Word fucking Bingo was going to be her contribution to the world, but I'd like to tie her down and have 4-year-olds lean over her for hours, all, "WHAT DOES 'OF' MEAN, MOMMY? WHAT DOES 'AS' MEAN? WHAT ABOUT 'THE'?" Gah. Depends on what your definition of "is" is, amiright?

Well anyway, she's fine (ish), and back to school today. Where hopefully she's being cared for by someone who has attended intensive "define a preposition oh wait you can't because that shit's impossible" training.

ME ME ME

So, in two weeks Tosc is going to be exclusively employed as a paid, full-time firefighter. This is a pretty big deal, as it's been his dream since he was 18 years old and comes not a month before he turns 35, the age after which most departments stop allowing you to test for open positions.

Cue tear-jerking montage of clips from The Rookie, Ladder 49, etc etc. Let's talk about how this affects ME!

Like most firefighters, he's going to be working a 24-on/48-off schedule (he's a C-shifter, for any other FF/spouses out there). On the one hand, every day's Friday! (for him) Fucking outstanding! And, I'll have someone home on weekdays to handle annoying, business-hour-only chores and to otherwise do my bidding! It will be like having a personal assistant, who I am forcing to sleep with me in order to keep his shitty, low-paying job!

On the other hand(s):

*I am still working the same 8-5/M-F schedule, so how annoying is THAT going to be? I can already feel the bitterness rising in the back of my throat.

*Shift work is a KNOWN CARCINOGEN. His station sleeps through the night more often than most, but STILL. I worry about how jacking with sleep will affect him.

*He agreed to complete paramedic school within the next 18 months (he's an EMT, but not a paramedic). Did you know that, around here, most fire stations run primarily medical calls, not fire calls? Ok, that was more of a Fun Fact. Still, paramedic school will take up a considerable bit of his time when he's NOT on shift. STILL still, it's temporary. Still^3, responding to medical calls is disgusting and stressful. What do you mean, *I* am not the one who has to do it? Well, I have to hear about it, AND I have to do the laundry. EWW.

*How is this going to work with the girls? Preliminary talks with Tosc's ex seem to indicate that she'd rather not mess with their current schedule. However, I really fail to see how that's going to work. If he has them for the weekend, he's guaranteed to be working either Friday, Saturday, or Sunday. So what if C-shift falls on a Saturday we have the girls? I guess I could watch them all day, but 1)GAH and 2)he barely gets to see them that way. However, if we DON'T do this, there is going to be CONSTANT switcheroo-ing and interaction with the ex and goodwill needed all around. How can this be DONE? I suppose it's too much to ask for any divorced firefighters with shared custody to comment. I'm sure this accountant-authored mommyblog has pretty much cornered that market.

*In theory I guess it's dangerous. Pfft. Ask me again after a few close calls, but I just cannot get into the Safety Fretting, although after meeting a few of the other wives I can see that some of them get off on it. Well, whatever floats your boat. I'm more likely to get off on the regular time to myself and the government benefits. OH YEAH BABY GIVE ME THAT DEFINED-BENEFIT PENSION PLAN.

*So, any shift workers or spouses have Tipz-n-Trickz? As always, I welcome your advice and comments on the increasingly bizarre trajectory of my life.

Isn't he a hottie? I'm so proud of him.

(Jesus H., that picture came out HOOGE! No need to buy your poster-size, just cut and paste!)

(he is going to KILL ME)

Thoughts on your thoughts

Hey, great comments on the Sex at Dawn post!

First of all, I hope it goes without saying that if you have anything you'd prefer not to leave in a comment, FTLOG email me (trueishstoryATgmail)! I MUST KNOW! As many anonymous commenters have learned the hard way, it's nearly impossible to offend me. Plus, I display an even MORE egregious disregard for my personal privacy through email, so you've got that going for you.

Anyway. Follow up thoughts! Here they are! Note the conspicuous avoidance of the colon!

*E-readers. You should totally have one, if for no other reason than the fact that no one can see what you are reading. Could be the Bible, could be the Kama Sutra. Just sayin.

*The communal living thing is interesting, isn't it? I agree with most of you guys that I don't see it happening for any of us, any time soon. I do wonder if it's possible to rearrange certain things, though. One thing I've noticed about being divorced and in a blended family is that certain elements of our situation mirror this. We don't live TOGETHER, but we do live within walking distance, and (in Ava's case) there are FOUR parents and at least FIVE sets of grandparents who have regular interaction with her. We share time with her so that each of us gets regular breaks from the responsibility of raising her, but on the other hand, each of us HAS to shoulder our share of the load. And so on. It just seems like nuclear families typically involve fewer caretakers, and sometimes there's no mechanism to encourage each person to pull their own weight.

*I'm happy being in a monogamous relationship, but I totally DO worry about the need for novelty and how that affects my marriage, and will in the future. For the sake of this discussion, I'm assuming the majority of us are not willing to lie or do things behind our partner's back. So, what CAN we do then? Have an open relationship? It seems to give most of us at least a MILD case of the skeeves, but then again so does having the same sex with the same person forever and ever amen! Sigh. This is where the feelings of hopelessness come in, I guess. That being said, I don't think the options are exclusively SWINGER or SEXLESS SHAM OF A MARRIAGE, either. Seems like there might be some options in between? This is where you quietly clasp your rosary and pray for my soul. Heh. (slash comment/email with your ideas).

*If you're not currently SHACKLED with the HELL ON EARTH that is a monogamous relationship (*eye roll*), what then? Should you strive to be a complete and unrepentant slut?

YES. The end.

Heh. Seriously, as the mother of a daughter (3 actually), I've thought a lot about this, and if you asked me (TODAY) whether I would want Ava to be a virgin when she gets married, my honest answer (TODAY) is: no. I want her to fiercely protect her physical and emotional health and safety, but not her virginity.

Listen, this is a highly charged topic, I GET IT, and this is just my personal opinion (TODAY), but I will say that I was, uh, NOT A VIRGIN when I got married (either time)(UNDERSTATEMENT), and if anything I wish I had had MORE sexual experiences while it was still relatively uncomplicated. I'm sure my husband, who has to have sex with me for the rest of his life (HORRORS), feels the same. In fact, he should thank me for being such a HOOR back in the day. I guess asking him to thank the other DUDES is pushing it.

HA HA!

IT'S JUST SEX, you guys! Now leave some comments and don't leave me hangin. xo

Pretend this one never happened, if you prefer

Sooo, under the category of Unnecessary Awk, has anyone else read Sex at Dawn? I mean, anyone willing to ADMIT it? If so, I'm going to need your reactions, if any, since mine basically boil down to uncomfortable fidgeting and vague feelings of hopelessness. Which are pleasant. Always the mood I'm going for in response to my recreational reading.

Here's the deal with this book: first of all, it's under the category of anthropology/evolutionary what-have-you. You know, old shit. How did sex USED to work. That kind of thing. It's not, like, a modern-day how-to or anything. So you can relax if you were starting to get squirelly on that front.

(I hope someone was fired with extreme prejudice over this cover art, because SRSLY)

If I had to awkwardly summarize the (married) authors' main points, I would say they are: (they are these? I don't know why I even USE colons, because I'm clearly unqualified)

*Back in the day, humans lived communally and shared everything, including sexual partners and children

*Our hardware and software is still sort of wired for that

*Therefore our current Western version of monogamy and the nuclear family is sort of a bitch to maintain

Right. Well then. The authors don't really give any SOLUTIONS to what appears to be a giant XXX FAIL, other than the implication that we Chill the Fuck Out on the idea that most people are fundamentally built for some type of sexual novelty.

I don't know. On the one hand, I really liked the way the authors explained the history of tribal living--how when everyone takes care of each other equally, it doesn't matter who's children are whose and you're better off being bonded to as many adults as possible, and therefore promiscuity makes total sense.

On the OTHER hand, this shit is depressing! If we may rejoin the REAL WORLD for a moment, that's not us! So...what? Monogamy is always going to leave us slightly lacking? I guess we just accept the fundamental mismatch of our bodies/minds and our current environment? AGAIN? Pfft. Maybe I read too much evolutionary/primal/paleo shit in the health and fitness sphere, I don't know. All I know is that theme is TIRED. And also, I hate hate HATE the "good old days/everything used to be GREAT and now it SUCKS!" worldview.

I don't mean to imply that I didn't enjoy the book or get anything out of it. In fact, it's probably the most thought-provoking thing I've read in a long time. I do recommend it. Unless you're suffering from some sort of non-specific...BRITTLENESS, as I appear to be.

Well, anyway, if you've read it, let me know what you thought. And if you HAVEN'T read it, do you give two shits about our evolutionary past, from a behavioral standpoint? Would you ever consider admitting that you read a SEX BOOK on your BLOG, which your SISTER reads?

(it's not really a SEX book! It's...HISTORY!)

(NOT THAT THERE'S ANYTHING WRONG WITH READING SEX BOOKS!)

Good Stuff Maynard

*Ava and I took a solo trip to MN this past weekend. It was surprisingly fun and low-stress, except for the part where neither of my parents brought a bathing suit to the hotel and therefore I was forced to be Token Adult Swimmer. GRANDPARENT FAIL.

At 4, Ava is quite the seasoned traveler and even talked the pilots of the plane into letting her "inspect" the cockpit. Spoiled little shit. She has more frequent flier miles than I do, and I am not even kidding. GAWD.

*My St. Patrick's menu for tomorrow: Spinach pasta with green-tinted alfredo sauce; broccoli; salad with Green Goddess dressing; lime jello. Lemon-lime Hawaiian Punch to wash it down (ew). I tried to find Ecto-Cooler Hi-C, but no dice. Do they even MAKE that shit anymore? I guess the Ghostbusters reference is somewhat lost on today's youth. Weak.
*Our electric bill was under $200 for the first time in about 9 months. True story. It gets as high as $500 in August/September. For a one-story, 2000 square foot house. God only knows what the McMansioners are paying. I mean, we're 72-degrees-year-round kind of people, but STILL. Is this ridiculous, or? I'm completely, and I do mean COMPLETELY, unwilling to sweat my ass off in my own goddamned home, although I will go as low as 55-60 degrees before I turn the heat on. Well, anyway. How much is your utility bill? What do you MEAN it's none of my business?

*We got a chimnea, which I've been wanting for AGES. I usually leave Tosc in charge of flame-related apparatus, but, uh, pretty sure it's not supposed to do THIS:

Nice work, Fire Marshal Bill. LET ME SHOW YOU SOMETHING!

*We're reaching the (shockingly brief) sweet spot for Texas weather. You know, before the 8 months of 90+ temps roll in. But! We shall live in the now! Enjoy spring and Watch For Wildlife! Put the soccer ball down the next time we pose for a cutesy photo! ftlog!

Updates

*KinderGate-at the 11th hour, Tosc and his ex-wife decided to enroll his kids in a school near her apartment (different school district). So...yay? Christ, I don't know. I'm also thinking about trying out our neighborhood school for Ava, to see what we think of it. A KinderTrial, if you will. WEARY. SO WEARY of this issue. I still have the Camp Out Day off though, just in case I get all uppity and bourgeois at the last minute. Lord knows I'm moody these days.

*Tosc got the new Verizon iPhone, so I inherited his Droid Incredible, aka BatPhoneReturns. I've never had a smartphone before, and it's a little...stressy. I have my work email on there and shit, and even though I can turn it off, I can still SEE THAT I HAVE WORK EMAIL, and it's just...psychologically uncomfortable. I sort of like to pretend that I exist in an alternate, work-email-free universe when I'm not at work. Slash when I AM at work.

Anyway, Tosc was all, "just wait, soon you won't be able to walk down the street without messing with your phone!" Yes. Yes, I will. I do not have The ADHD, and therefore am capable of standing in line at Chik-fil-a for 2 goddamn minutes without whipping out my phone to see what's been up since I exited my car. Drives. Me. Nuts. He SLEEPS with the damn thing on the bedside table! Ftlog! Is this normal? The moment he opens his eyes, he goes right for his phone! (Me: so, what's the nuclear launch code today, Mr. President?) Honestly. Take it down a notch and do nothing for 2 minutes.

*Lately the girls have been into eating "snapdogs" (natural casing hotdogs)(they SNAP when you bite into them! Gettit?). I have to tell you, I do not look forward to the day they discover the source of the "snap". Especially since one of the twins has a stuffed pig as her lovey. Oh dear. SOYLENT GREEN IS PEOPLE! Ah well. You best have a strong stomach for animal products and mild psychological trauma if you want to survive in this family.

Marcia, Marcia, Marcia!

Well, now, where were we? Oh, yeah, bitching about Kindergarten. That was fun. I'm mostly done talking about this, since again, there's nothing I can do about any of it, but here's the thing: I don't think most people have a very realistic view of blended families. Including a lot of people who are IN blended families.

I actually think the 5 of us have managed pretty damn well, especially for a relatively new family. And I know from experience we'll feel even MORE cohesive as time goes by. Do I love Tosc's kids? Absolutely. Do I want all 3 girls to feel like they are sisters? Of course. That's one of my most fervent wishes. At the same time, do I absolutely, unequivocally, 100% of the time, prioritize what's best for Ava over what's best for Tosc and his kids?

You're goddamned right I do. Without apology. I expect Tosc to do the same for his kids. Hence, the KinderDrama. Our situation is NOT the same as a nuclear family with triplets. It's just not. If that's the way you're thinking about it, I'm afraid I must invite you to Wake Up and Smell the Broken Families (in my head it smells like an electrical fire).

Blergg. I guess it just pisses me off that people know the Brady Bunch view of blended families is ridiculous, but at the same time...EXPECT THAT EXACT THING TO HAPPEN. Immediately, if not sooner. Riiiiiiight.

Kinderfuck

So, let's talk some (more) about Kindergarten, shall we?

I know this topic is tiresome, but there are...issues, most of which make me look selfish and/or classist and/or like a giant fucking douchebag, so 'TIS YOUR LUCKY DAY!

We've decided to send Ava to public kindergarten. Yaaaay for civic pride and all that bullshit. We weren't able to find a private kindergarten that we could agree on, is what it boils down to. I'll save you the financial and religious/socioeconomic details. Plus, I would rather Ava be the richest kid in a poor school than the poorest kid in a rich school and YEAH I SAID IT. It's true. However. The issues.

Issue the first: The public school in our neighborhood sucks, at least relative to the other elementary schools in the district. It's the biggest school in the city, it's notorious for discipline problems, and it has a lower...rating, or whatever.

Issue the second: We can request a transfer to another school outside our district, but the process is a NIGHTMARE. It involves basically camping out at the school district with hundreds of other rabid parents who think they're better than their neighbors, and then STILL possibly not getting into the school we want. I mean, if you don't think that bullshit is basically my worst nightmare, then I invite you to report directly to the Remedial Study Group. CHRIST. Plus, we won't know exactly where she will be going until the last minute, so we can't ease her into the the change and all that. Fucking Nervous Tummy to the MAX.

Issue the third, and this one's a doozy: Tosc's ex-wife lives in a crap neighborhood and has informed him that she wants HIS kids to go to school in our district as well (they will all start kindergarten at the same time).

UH.

So, multiply the above issues times THREE, PLUS throw in a little what-to-do-with-identical-twins just for fun, PLUS go ahead and add in an extra wrench, which is the fact that I DON'T WANT AVA GOING TO SAME SCHOOL AS TOSC'S KIDS.

I just don't. I know it's selfish and I know it's not even my fucking decision, and that Tosc and his ex-wife have to do what's best for their kids, but...

I don't want Ava having to constantly compete with or be in the shadow of siblings who are 5 months older and who ALSO happen to be identical twins, and who ALSO happen to be more outgoing/aggressive than she is. I want her to have her own domain, and her own activities and sports teams. I know they could be in separate classes, but...still.

Then there's the uncomfortable fact that trying to transfer THREE kids into a better school is much harder than trying to transfer ONE.

Bleh. Can you even BELIEVE this shit? I mean, the school district is going to be like, "your situation is WHAT NOW?"

Anyway, AS ALWAYS, I control basically nothing about this entire process, and the parts I do control make me look like an asshole. If I were you, I'd get to work sewing THAT shit onto a throw pillow.

Descarrilamiento

Thank you all for your impotent rage yesterday. I'm feeling much better today. Ava and I had lunch at Souper Salad, which is basically a dream come true for your average 4-year-old (breadsticks and ranch! mac 'n cheese! jello! ice cream!)(with side of salad, in theory). Sounds like she had a good weekend, and I'll pick her up tomorrow and have her for the next five days, so there's that.

Couple of things:

*Carlos does not have to talk to me. He doesn't have to answer my messages, even when they're about Ava, and he doesn't have to tell me where she is or let me talk to her when it's "his time". The same goes for me. Yeah, he's a pinehole, but I don't want to unfairly play the victim here or make the situation out to be something it's not. I do try to get extra time with Ava by taking her to lunch, but he does not have to allow it.

*This will get better. It's only a few months before Ava starts kindergarten, and I will know when she is in school and when she's not. Also, soccer will be starting again soon and so I will see her every Saturday, for at least a few hours. Before long, she will be old enough to call me herself or ride her bike to my house if she wants to (we live less than a mile apart, FTLOG)(well within water balloon slingshot range, now that I think of it). And soon enough, she will be an adult who is deeply embarrassed and scarred by the both of us, and none of this will matter. Except in the old "who gets into the better nursing home" competition. Which I will win, due to the widely overlooked "who took child to more lunches when she was 4" clause.

*I recognize that Carlos is under a lot of stress right now, and that I'm probably a convenient outlet for that stress. He lives with a new baby and a new mom, I'm sure he's not sleeping much, and he's probably under a lot of financial stress as well. If things get worse for him, I fully expect him to take that out on me. On the other hand, I remain hopeful that once things calm down, the pendulum could once again swing the other way. At least briefly. Either way, I can handle it.

*I'm not ashamed of the fact that I cried, but I am pissed off, because crying doesn't help me. I'm what Moxie calls a "tension increaser"--I almost always feel WORSE, not BETTER, when I cry, and it's in no way soothing. Which is why I don't do it, if I can help it. And why Tosc thinks I'm quote-unquote HEARTLESS.

Tess pictoral rebuttal:

So, anyhoo. Good talk, as always. Mi trainwreck, es su trainwreck. xo

FTS

So, I just went to pick up Ava for our usual Monday lunch, and she wasn't at school. Sigh. Of course, I didn't know for sure whether she would be there or not, since Carlos won't respond to any of my messages. I could have called the school and asked, but I HATE HATE HATE doing that! It's fucking humiliating. I'm her MOTHER, I should KNOW where she is. I mean, really. So instead I left the daycare, embarrassed and angry and sad, and fucking cried (!!) in the parking lot out of sheer frustration.

This has happened a few times before (not the crying, ftlog, but her not being there on a Monday), when he's been mad at me. I even gave myself a little pep talk, before I left work. "If she's not there, just come back and workout and you will feel better. Try again tomorrow." I guess I WILL try again tomorrow, but I'm going to have to call the fucking school and see if she's there first. And then if she ISN'T, I'll feel like shit all over again and blah de blah second verse same as the first.

I don't know what my point is with this sob story. I realize that this situation has a shelf life. Soon her attendance in school will be MANDATORY, and she will be able to contact me on her own and deal with me separately from her dad.

Maybe she'll be there tomorrow and we can have lunch. Maybe not. Maybe I'll grow richly as a person from this never-ending stream of bullshit.

PFFT.

Stream of...me (EWW)

I just spent, like, an HOUR making out my meal plan for next week. Why does it TAKE so long? Probably because the process mostly consists of me mentally scrolling through the list of the 34987 meat items in my freezer, all "no,...no,...uck! NO! WE HAVE NO FOOD! " and then spending $100 at Costco. Blergg. Tosc did go hog hunting a few weeks back, and we just got the meat back from the processor, so I suppose I will have to work WILD HAM into the rotation. I'm assuming that you can't really screw up HAM, but we shall see. It's WILD! It does as it pleases!

Ava had her first dentist appointment last week. We decided to bring her to an expensive, kids-only dentist (even though she doesn't have dental insurance ARGG ARGG HULKSMASH), in the hopes that she would have a good first experience and we could later transition her to one of the shady, back alley places the rest of us frequent, nefariously stroking our beards all the while. She did fine, the end. Aaand, BOOM. You just wasted a minute of your life on that paragraph.

Carlos and I are not getting along again! HAHAHAHA! Who had January 5th in the "when will it yet again go south" pool? BIG WINNAH! At the moment, he's not talking to me AT ALL, including ignoring several emails and texts I sent him about some daycare stuff and a birthday party I was supposed to take Ava to this weekend (it's his weekend). Bee tee dubs, can I just tell you what I LOVE? The people who are all, "I wouldn't put up with that shit! He knows he can walk all over you! The next time he texts, I would ignore him right back!" O RILLY? And how, exactly, does that further my purpose? YOU wouldn't put up with his shit? Well, WHY DIDN'T YOU SAY SO? I guess I will just PURGE HIM FROM MY LIFE and go on about my business! OH WAIT. Jesus Christ. I know it comes as a shock to some people, but a) he is not going to stop this behavior and b) there is actually nothing I can do about it.

Did anyone catch that Extreme Couponing show on TLC? MY GOD MAN. Greatness. It's almost inspiring, until you factor in the 10+ hours per day of obsessive research and the hoarding of epic proportions (hundreds of bottles of body wash! for TWO PEOPLE!)

First Tuesday

Did you all have a productive First Monday? DID YOU? Tosc and I went out for Monday Funday, which presented a minor First Monday challenge, but I'll have you know that I avoided the tortilla chips, which is really a shame since the bar had BUILD YOUR OWN QUESO. I mean, come on. I practically cried. As usual, I did NOT avoid 3 vodka and sodas (the official drink of 2011!), but did you see that on my physical health post? NO. I submit you did not.

So! On to the emotional/spiritual health improvements!

1) Improve my focus. I know this seems a little loosey-goosey, but I find that I get more distractable as the years go by. Specifically, this will probably mean keeping my email (erm, and Google Reader) closed while I am working on something else, and possibly not listening to health & fitness podcasts while I work (something I do pretty much every day). Uff. That one's really gonna hurt.

2) Take at least one weekend trip alone with Ava. We won't be doing much air travel this year, since FIVE plane tickets are a lot more cost prohibitive than TWO. I know it's selfish, but I'm feeling bad about this. It seems like another way that Ava's being punished because she's now in a blended family. And another way I'M being punished, since I love flying and don't particularly enjoy roadtrips, especially with three young kids. Anyway, I'd like to take her on a mini-vacation, just the two of us, or maybe bring her to Minnesota. MIDDLE CLASS SOB STORY, I know, since most people don't get to jet off with each of their kids individually. Still.

3) Go camping. I camped a lot as a child (MN is actually more conducive to it than TX, since the summers are milder), and I miss it. Our trip to Alaska stirred my camping bug as well. When it comes down to it, I really am a low-maintenance outdoorsy type (within reason). Anyway, at least one camping trip. Should be do-able, especially since we could ease into it by camping when we don't have the girls.

Don't forget, it's not too late to tell me about your resolutions, healthkick or otherwise!

First Monday!!

Happy First Monday! I'll have you know that it's 11 am and I've gotten exactly ZERO peppy emails explaining your impending healthkicks in excruciating detail. Disappointing. Well, there is STILL TIME.

In the interim, you all are on the edge of your seats over my resolutions, AM I WRONG?

Let's start with the physical health resolutions, which are plentiful as always:

1) First, Do No Harm. I am getting, as they say, ON IN THE YEARS, and I've recently had an epiphany that the single most important thing I can do to further my fitness goals is NOT TO FUCKING COME UP LAME. I've been dealing with a minor hip/hamstring...situation for a few months now, which came as a result of running sprints on sore legs, which is just straight-up BRAIN-DEAD, from where I stand now. That one dumb decision hampered a bunch of other things I wanted to do this year (including more sprinting). Also, it totally sucks and makes me angry. At myself. Which is my least favorite type of anger. So! I resolve to Pay Attention, FTLOG and not doing anything (else) Fucking Stupid. Fitness-wise, anyway. It's pretty much going to happen in the other areas.

2) Continue lifting weights and gaining strength. This was a huge win for 2010. Since starting workouts with my trainer, I've gone from being weak as a leetle girl (which, granted, I AM) to bench pressing 1 1/2 times my weight and squatting twice my weight. *Pause for gasps/thundering applause.* Since I'm still a newbie, I should be able to see some more improvement in this area, which would be a mood lifter, although it begs the question of exactly how strong I feel I need to BE? As strong as I can get in 30 minutes a week, that's how strong!

FWIW, just as a data point, I'm definitely...BIGGER since I started lifting, at least across the chest and in the thighs. Probably because I'm such a gifted, natural BEEFCAKE. Heh. Overall, I think I look better, though. I'm not sure what effect it's had on my weight, since I don't weigh myself, but if I had to guess I'd say I'm definitely heavier. In the good way. But also the way that requires new bras and jeans.

3) Consider a long-term fitness goal of passing the Firefighter Physical Agility Test. Even THINKING about this scares the shit out of me, embarrasses me, and makes me tired. Most firefighters have to pass a test that measures their agility, strength, and conditioning in a variety of ways. For example, they might have to haul a length of hose up 10 flights of stairs, then drag a 200-lb dummy 50 yards. And so on. I was inspired to consider this by our friend Amber, a female firefighter and all-around bad ass who was recently the first female to ever pass one of the toughest physical agility tests in the state. BOOM. So awesome. Anyway, the test clearly sucks and also I am up against a significant obstacle in that while I am getting pretty strong FOR MY SIZE, objectively I'm still not that strong. The fact that I can squat twice my bodyweight does not equate to being able to drag a 200-lb dummy. Buzzkill. Still, food for thought. And speaking of food:

4) Continue experimenting with my diet. In 2010 I confirmed that I don't tolerate gluten very well, and since I don't even LIKE most gluten-containing foods, I decided to mostly eliminate it. I also confirmed that I DO tolerate dairy (or at least I'm fooling myself that I do) and I miss the EVERLOVING SHIT out of it when I abstain, therefore I will NOT be eliminating it. What I need to do in 2011 is eliminate, or at least drastically reduce, the amount of corn I eat (mostly in the form of Mexican food). I don't want to. AT ALL. It makes me sick though, there's little doubt about that.

There's something else I'm going to do, in the name of SCIENCE, and I predict you guys will think it's pretty silly and possibly douchey. Ah well. I, uh, bought a blood glucose monitor. I know, I KNOW, I'm not diabetic or anything (YET), but it's for SCIENCE! In addition to relying on how I feel, I'm going to start taking some readings to see how different foods affect me. And, um, hopefully Tosc, if he'll submit. He doesn't exactly know about it yet. BACK OFF! That kid has insulin resistance and reactive hypoglycemia, and I intend to prove it, damn it! THE DATA DOESN'T LIE! Oh god. Well, let's start with me. I'll let you know how it goes. FYI, if you want to play along at home, blood glucose monitors are wicked cheap, like $20ish, and testing strips are less than $.50 apiece. I AM JUST SAYING AND SHUT YOUR MOUTHS.

5) Anti-resolution: Run a half-marathon. This is not a resolution, since I don't actually WANT to do it. Some friends of ours talked us into it, and Tosc and has never done a race longer than a 5K, and we were all drunk at the time, and blah blah blah. We're doing it. It's March 27th. My goal is to train as little as possible, probably on a walk/run basis, and still be able to complete the race and have fun. See Resolution 1).

Jesus H. CHRIST, this is getting long. Do you see what happens when you get me started? We'll have to do the mental and spiritual health resolutions later in the week. Besides, this is all just a prelude to the real attractions, which are YOUR resolutions. Lay 'em on me in the comments, or post a link! Send me a 2500-word email! Twitter DM! Carrier pigeon! Just do it!