Seriously?

Exhibit A:

Exhibit B:

See also:

Yep.

Ugh, what am I doing? 

This is literally what I just said to myself as I angrily shut down my browser after trolling about aimlessly on Pinterest. Everything is so beautiful and neat and lovely.

It’s all just so wonderful and frankly, I don’t have time for this bullshit anymore.

What did we do before all this whimsy the internet affords? What was I doing? I know what I’m doing now. I’m working. God, I am working so hard. I get home and I am tired. Bake your own fucking brownies Martha, I barely had enough time to wolf down a cheeseburger while marking up the financials and trying not to make too loud of chewing noises on the phone while calmly assuring yet another one that yes we DID have someone on the way… 

Don’t get me wrong; I miss making things. My kids are growing up SO fast and I feel like I’m sort of watching it happen from the outskirts. They wore commercially produced Halloween costumes this year. I buy a lot of read-to-make stuff from the freezer section these days. I missed Jonah’s school play because it was during the day and I had to work. 

I have to work. 

Not that I wasn’t working before. Oh God knows raising kids is work. But this is a different kind of work. A different sort of making and doing and building. The pictures of what I do aren’t all soft and pretty or bright and happy. A lot of guys with dirty hands and rough voices. A lot of numbers that add up to jobs and futures. A lot of people I’m with every day that I’ve come to see as a kind of family. 

I’m still making things. They just don’t photograph well.

I’m 30 and it’s dumb to still have a Xanga but frankly, I’m just too lazy to move all this crap to a more mature blog format. 

In case anyone still reads this and was wondering. 

I’m just checking in. Nothing too interesting worth reporting – whenever there is, I usually tweet it as it’s never interesting enough to warrant more than 140 characters.

For example, this week I embraced absorbing one of my former admin assistants’ responsibilities as she made a lateral move to another open admin position. I moved into a new cubicle, leaving behind my first ever real desk. It felt much like leaving a first apartment. My new space is bigger, has better light and is strategically better suited to my needs but still. Bye, desk. We had some times together, didn’t we?

So as you might expect, absorbing someone else’s job while not giving up any of your former job means some additional hours, some additional stress. I can’t say I mind. I sort of thrive on it. I get roped into all kinds of weird projects that will take up half my day, leaving me to finish my regular tasks long after 5 pm, or on the weekends. I am constantly asked how to do things or where something is. I am continually interrupted. Technically, I work for two people but in actuality, I regularly work for six and consistently do things way outside my department, sometimes way outside my division. And I like it that way. Yes, I know how to do that. Yes, I can teach you how to read this report. Yes, I can show you how this works. Yes, I can do this for you. Yes, yes, yes. And on the occasions I don’t know something, I find out.

You learn a lot by saying yes. 

I’m sure everyone knows this already, but my husband and I maintain a twitter account for our kids who are the most hilarious people I have ever met. I was never very good at keeping a baby book for any of them, so I love being able to go back over the year and read all the funny things they say. Here are my faves from 2011.

Overheard on tv after a football game- “Stats are for losers!” Jonah: “Stamp the palooza?! What does that mean? He’s a terrible coach.”

Oh, that makes me want to cry. – Jeremiah, watching Bear Grylls drink his own pee to survive in the desert.

Jeremiah: “Dad, can I go play outside?” Me: “No buddy. It’s too cold and rainy.” Jeremiah: “Oh… The TV whooped my brain and I forgot.”

Jeremiah, after getting in trouble: “Dad, I’m sorry for being crazy. I offer you this…” holds out hand with .65 cents.

“So, if God made the king of our town cut down all the trees, everyone would die, right? He would be a stupid man.” – Jeremiah, 5

I realize I didn’t post about Christmas – it came at us hard and fast this year. It was mostly good, which the usual side of insanity, most notablty -

1. Jeremiah’s teacher informs us that on “Take a Picture With Santa Day” he went all “Elf” on his classmates and proclaimed that THIS SANTA IS NOT REAL GUYS, NO, REALLY, I AM NOT LYING, YOU ARE BEING LIED TO, THAT IS JUST A REGULAR OLD GUY IN A SANTA SUIT AND HE WILL BRING YOU ZERO PRESENTS BECAUSE GUYS SANTA IS NOT REAL, REALLY. Apparently this is the kind of thing that makes normal 5 and 6 year olds cry, because that is what they all did, all the while Jeremiah is trying to convince his teacher that by the rules of logic and physics, the whole concept of Santa is inane. Merry Christmas from your 6 year old realist.

2. Last minute OH SHIT moment after reading Jeremiah’s letter to Santa (which he wrote either to pacify his teacher or just to fuck with us, I can’t tell) which included items like “robot dog from Japan” and “wind up Gingerbread man.” And of course, NOTHING on the list were things we had actually purchased for him, which resulted in…

3. Marky and I had to make an after work trip to Woodfield Mall (read: retail HELL) the week of Christmas for last minute shopping. All I could think was how much more palatable the whole experience would have been had my Starbucks gotten a couple of pumps of whiskey instead of peppermint. (By the way Starbucks, that idea is on me. Feel free to run with it. You’re welcome.) Also, watching your husband haggle with a 14 year old Russian sales girl over the price of a remote control helicopter is pretty mind blowing.

I did raid the Angry Birds kiosk at Woodfield pretty hard though, which resulted in this awesome pic from Jonah’s camera:

All in all though, things were good. We ate too much, drank too much and were very grateful for the time spent with family and the generous gifts we received.

 I love these photos of the boys having hot chocolate by the way:

I still play music sometimes.

Sometimes.

All pictures by Tiela. Go see the rest of the Venna pics and also a bunch of awesome shots of Culpa’s farewell show.

When I was little, I remember doing a project on this book. It stuck with me and sometimes I find myself applying it to my life and sort of writing my own version in my mind. Like this morning, I was taking a few minutes to read some of my blogs which are primarily the crafty mama types and I realized how not me all that is now. Not necessarily by choice but by circumstance. I don’t read mama blogs, I read The Kiplinger Letter. I don’t learn new knitting patterns, I learn about quoting heat exchangers. I don’t memorize recipes, I memorize formulas. So my new story reads like this:

Unfortunately, I don’t have time to craft anymore. Fortunately, I’ve discovered a whole new set of untapped skills to develop. Unfortunately, I can’t spend time to DIY. Fortunately, I make money and can purchase the things I used to kill myself trying to figure out how to make just so we could have them at all. Unfortunately, I don’t spend my days at home being a soft, squishy mama. Fortunately, I’m a supervisor who knows how to handle herself and can be tough when needed. Unfortunately, I am no longer in my comfort zone. Fortunately, it seems I’m confident enough that it doesn’t matter if I’m comfortable; more importantly, I’m capable.

Unfortunately, everything I was has taken a backseat due to the circumstances in which I find myself. Fortunately, as it turns out, I can be good at anything I want to, even the things I never considered doing. I can be whatever I need to be.

God is good and has equipped me with everything I need, even for this.

Anyway. Sometimes, I’m really sad when I look at my desk at home all covered in dust. Occasionally I pull out a project and sort of pick at it – really all I’ve managed to accomplish on that front is finishing one lone Christmas present and patching up a bunch of pairs of pants. I cleaned out the storage room yesterday and pulled out all the homeschooling supplies we will most likely never use. I’m less sad about losing that part of our lives than I was originally – turns out homeschooling genius children was going to be WAY harder than I thought – but I do miss teaching. I miss it a lot. But that’s just another unfortunately/fortunately story. Things change.

I’ve realized that I’m not special. I’m not unique. I’m not exempt. I am responsible for my children, their future is up to me. I need to start building something now that will support my responsibilities later. It’s not about my art, my creativity, about my needs and ideals. It’s about taking care of what’s been given to me.

Fortunately, I know how to do that.