Life, or something like it..

If I were..

Going back to my previous post of never seeming to have time for anything, I was tagged by Jen several days ago to participate in the blog "If I were.." multi-blog thread. 

After trying to post about it for the last 5 days, I am taking a virtual smoke break Hey, if others can go downstairs for mental health breaks, I should be able to do so up here.  At least unlike them, I look like I am working, should someone actually be looking for me!

The biggest time problem for me was that part of the game is that you need to "tag" three other blogs.  The problem is that I only read a few other blogs (in those spare seconds that I have), and Danigirl, Andrea, Ann D, and Jen (who tagged me) have all been tagged.  I could do a disservice by randomly picking links off of other blogs, but that would not be fair.  I will try to find appropriate "tag-ies"...really... maybe between 1am and 4am.. all I am doing then is wasting precious time sleeping anyway.

But in the interim, I will at least post my answers, for all of those of you who I just know are dying waiting for me to post (really need to work on that sarcasm thing).

Here we go:

Here's how the game works. Below are a series of statements. Choose five and complete them, then "tag" three more people to do the same (or in my case, go off in search of worth receipients of the tag, and then update my post later on; or alternatively, if you read this and wanted to play, go ahead and cut and paste the list for yourself - but be kind and let me know so that I can cheat, and have one less person to tag).

The statements are:

If I could be a scientist
If I could be a farmer
If I could be a psychologist
If I could be a librarian
If I could be an inn-keeper
If I could be a professor
If I could be a writer
If I could be a llama-rider
If I could be a bonnie pirate
If I could be an astronaut
If I could be a world famous blogger
If I could be a justice on any one court in the world
If I could be married to any current famous political figure

Here are my answers:

If I could be a librarian I would want to be one at the vatican.  Could you imagine having access to 1000s and 1000s of years of recorded history available to you to read through, and almost no users of the library so you would almost never be interupted while reading!

If I could be a professor: I would teach european history.. I think that era of history is facinating! (this one does not count, since it is pretty much a repeat of the last! :) )

If I could be a writer I would be just like Ann D, and shuck this corporate life to life off my writing income.. of course, that would never happen, but maybe I could make at least enough to fund another maternity leave (more to come.. my "I've Lost My Mind" workbook is going to the publishers in 3 weeks after I finish incorporating the comments from several of my book reviewer victims helpers.

If I could be an inn-keeper I would get to do the stuff I love all day, including gardening and cooking (I know, I am such a geek), making fresh jams.  I would have to hire a cleaning staff, since that part would bite, and since Inns are not exactly profitable I would need some type of magic fairy dust to get customers to feel compelled to visit my inn every other week even in the winter, but other than that, it would be great.  Of course, I would have to go steal all of Jen's bathrobes, but that is another story...

If I could be a world famous blogger I would blog about my rants and other *brilliant* [drip] ideas about security (my profession), and would figure out a way to get people to pay me for these random thoughts (can you tell that self emplyment is a theme here?).

If I could be married to any current famous political figure I would want to be married to Dubya so that I could kick his sorry ass from here to kingdom come, and to convince him never to become a politician to begin with.

Okay, that was not too painful.  It only took an hour.. (grin).

I'll update with my tags when I find three people to tag [insert eye roll].

And they wonder why we loose our minds after having kids..

I got a message from a friend on the weekend who's darling daughter is about a month younger than our little darlin'. Her and I went back to work on the same week, and are going through similar challenges trying to find that "work/life" balance that people keep claiming exists:

Hey all. Apologies for the lack of replying to email/phone calls. Stupid week. Spent the morning writing a stack of files. Asked myself on Thursday why I went back to work at all. Many times actually.  Bloody hell. I have no time for anything anymore. And boy am I crabby about it. Sigh.

Things gett crazy going back to work. With all the pregnancy/baby books out there, you would think there would be one which prepares those of us with no option about returning to work (at least not wihtout some serious lifestyle changes, and living with parent units at my age just really is no longer an option). I barely time find to breath these days.. sigh.. not that staying home is an option, so I guess I will just have to find a way to make it work. I am not sure if others have the same feeling, but these days I am always feeling like I am doing everything wrong. I don't have enough time to focus here at work, and with all the crap that is going on I really do need to spend the extra time here, but at the same time I get to spend almost no time with the little darlin' (to show how bad it is, now when someone says "where's mommy?" he waves... you know, like he waves to me as I drive away in the morning.. ARGH). In addition to that, it is not like there isn't a million chores at home to do (DH tries to help, but ultimately he is still a guy, and while he is great with Alex, he sucks at remembering/doing house chores, despite what he says).

And the crabbiness too - everything seems to make me furious these days.. even the stupid little things that after I go back to it a few hours later and realize I am over reacting, and yet they still piss me off.. argh.

I just have to keep telling myself:

You returned because you had to; because you love your job; because you want to be able to afford the things that the little darlin' needs without having to worry about where to get the money; and because you don't want to eat spam and macaroni every night.

Is the trick to just keep saying these to yourself over and over?.. I am sure there is a point that this gets easier... I hope..

Feelings of inadequacy

I have this nice little blog going, but I have to say, I feel terribly inadequate about it most of the time.

Although it is one of the few things that have been keeping me sane the last few months (along with Babytalk - have I mentioned how wonderful the Health Unit in my town is?) - it my version of a very public group therapy sessions - I've been having these nagging doubts about my competency to have one.

Yes, blogs are supposed to bring publishing to the masses. But have you seen the quality of writing out there? It is absolutely superb. Despite the usual comments that blogs must mostly contain people's shopping lists, and other boring minutia of their day to day lives, all of the blogs that I have visiting typically are well written, though provoking pieces.

Unlike my own. I do not have the insight genius of Jen, or the vast writing experience off Ann D, and yet these people are kind enough to keep up with what is going on here. Oh the pressure of it all.. My Rick Merser-esque rants aside, I have a sneaking suspicion that I am merely a creative legend in my own mind. Maybe I could get my old grade 12 English teacher to grade me...

Now wouldn't that be priceless? In order to qualify for the right to public an open blog (friends and family are always obligated to read even the most bland material), a thirty-[cough] old woman is required to go back to make sure that in all the years since school that one's creative writing skills are still up to snuff.. And what if they were found not to be? Could they retroactively rescind your diploma?

Hmm.. maybe it isn't such a good idea after all!

I've been tagged.

Apparently I have been tagged. In my line of work that is generally not a good thing, but it sounds interesting. Only problem is that I only have time to keep up with three blogs, and I was tagged by one of them! More to follow!

Crappy Days

Today cannot be described as a good day. I would love to vent about why, but as far as I understand blogging and work venting are two tasks that should never be mixed, but the short of the story is that everyone seems to have forgotten about me while I was on leave, and now I keep getting the short end of the stick for many a BS items (you know, all those things that they are *not* allowed to do when you return, but now seem to be trying to do anyway), which pretty much takes any fun out of this job, which pretty much bites. And since what they are doing is damaging my professional reputation, I can (a) try and stick it out, and try to fight it out internally, thus making the next year hell, and potentially damaging me further, but also having a chance of eventually fixing things, or (b) cut loose, take the hit and thus limit the damage that could be done.

I love when both options available suck.

A timely reminder

Jen

just gave me a timely

reminder, at a time when I was considering moving, why I endure an hour commute each way in order to live in the middle of no where, and have my own 50 acre park.

The T word

Of all the things that gave me pause in my life, I never thought I would be almost reduced to tears by the T word.

I'm just not ready for it. Really. I know that all the signs were there, and that one day it would happen to me too, but really, this is *way* too soon. I am not prepared. At all. You think you are, because it is a reality that most people have to face at some point, but nothing could have prepared me for that moment when the doctor told me it was time.

And again, I must say, I am really, really, really, really, really, really not ready for it. But I guess I will have to face my pain, my anxiety about it. As much as I want to turn back the clock to an earlier, more simpler time, some point soon I am going to have to face facts.

My little darlin' is a Toddler now..

The art of being un-PC

Since I am already going to get firebombed for my previous statements of not absolutely adoring getting spit up all over, having no sleep, and feeling literally drained all day long, I guess I might as well keep going...

I know this runs counter to all the wonderful Hallmark moments that have been professed and bloged about for the last few weeks which wax poetically about how great their mother's are, and how much more they appreciate their mothers' now that they too are mom's, but I'm finding just the opposite.. My mother, as I believe with all mothers, had a profound affect on who I became as a person, both positive and negative. From her I get my strength, my persistence, my neuroses.. Her opinion matters, no matter how much I try not to let it (let's just say we don't see eye to eye on may issues)... it was always in the back of my mind, even when I was sure of something, how she would nag me about this or that..

But with the little darlin' now on the scene, I find myself caring less and less about what others think, and spending more time focusing on what my little family needs, and to a larger extent what my little darlin' needs... yes, this is how things are supposed to be, but it truly amazes me how little I factor in these things these days given my pedagogical ways.. I used to obsess to make sure mom didn't get mad at me for some little unknown slight, or to make sure things were the way she like, and now it seems so irrelevant..

It's weird how the world turns..when most people are talking about how much more they appreciate their mom's now that they are parents and can "understand" them, I seem to be understanding less and less...

Infant Hell

Whoo hoo.. 100 days of hell! I think Jen's friend hit my feelings about newborns pretty much right on the head... .. now don't get me wrong, I love the little critters and all, and they are as cute as the dickens, but I would just love them so way much more with say a full time nanny that would take care of all that sleeplessness junk. A year later, and I still have not caught up on sleep..apparently another 6570 days before that happens though..

Pain In The Ass factor

It occurred to me yesterday as I was porting over all the messages from my old site that perhaps I should explain what I mean by the PITA factor..

I happen to have a particularly low BS threshold, but generally speaking, it falls into a broader "Pain In The Ass" factor.. it is non-discriminatory catch all philosophy along the lines that if the effort involved with something/someone/somewhatever takes more time/money/generally feeling good than the end result, it generally won't happen - at least for me.

This used to be my nine cent theory, which kinda evolved over the years. The theory came from an argument I used to have with people when I would throw out tupperware-like plastic containers after one use, back in the day before there were many disposable plastic containers on the market. I would buy pack of like 100 of these things for like $9 or something like that (which conveniently would make each container cost 9 cents). My figuring was that if the container was too gross or ick and would take a lot to clean, I would just pitch it (yes, I would at least throw it into the recycle bin to make up for my wasteful ways, much in the same redundant way that people have diet drinks with desserts or extra large popcorns in order to save calories). My figuring was that if the time to take to clean the container was worth more than the container itself (which we previously determined was 9 cents, and WHO'S time ISN'T worth 9 cents), it was better to just pitch the container.

Now, using the PITA factor for all sorts of things, and not just to justifying throwing out plastic containers. Why do I have only a few friends? Because with most women the PITA factor is high and I don't want to deal with mind games, ego massaging, whining (I mean, other than on my blog! [grin]), competitive mean-spiritedness, etc that goes with most. Why do I use the most convenient method, but not necessarily the most cost-effective way of doing things? Usually the PITA factor. Why do I buy pre-made food and veggies, when I can get fresh for cheaper and have the skills to prepare them to be more tasty? The PITA factor is high, and I could use that time to play with my son instead?

You get the idea...