Single Mom’s Life

Had yet another co-worker dream last night. Thankfully, I will say, while this one was a little weird, it was not disturbing in the ways the others were. And I went to go look at the interpretation on the site I posted yesterday, can’t really find an answer. I mean, how to you interpret a co-worker, female, coming in with extremely (meaning extremely long) hairy legs in a short, short skirt?

After having two dreams in two nights about co-workers, I have decided that I might be working too much or at least worrying too much about work. These were not your normal run-of-the-mill dreams about work. Nope, these were dreams that one shouldn’t be having about co-workers! I’ve spent two days trying to analyze and figure out the dreams, to no avail. Trying to remember all parts of the dream to piece it together.

Why have these dreams? Why have these dreams about these co-workers. I could go into the dreams, but I do have co-workers that read this site. And even if I left the names out to protect the innocent, the dreams are too wrong to share and let them wonder and gossip about who the other subjects could be.

So I ask, what sites or books do you use to analyze dreams (if you even do)? I found this site a few weeks ago Dream Dictionary. Here’s what it says about dreaming about co-workers and a few other aspects of the dream:

When  you take a 4 day weekend. You get backed-up at work. You come back and are so swamped you don’t feel like you will ever get your head above water again. And just when you think you’re soveryclose to the top, you get three emails pushing you back to the bottom of the ocean. Knock on wood, I am starting to feel somewhat close to the top right now. But, shhhh, don’t let the universe (or the email server) know this.

It also means that you neglect your blog. I don’t usually blog at work, every once in awhile I will. But for the most part, I blog at home at night. A few things have stopped this. First, turning on the computer. Because of all the work, I have absolutely no desire to turn on the laptop once I get home. Second, S has been home. And we’ve actually been trying to spend some time together while the girls are gone. I know, it’s a silly thought, spending time with your significant other. But we are. And it’s good for us. Third, well I don’t really have a third. I could have lied and said that I have had nothing to blog about, but I definitely could have blogged about some things. My temper tantrum about nylons would have made a great story. But then again, it’s probably going to be an ongoing temper tantrum, so I am sure I will have ample opportunity to tell you about the tantrums.

Honestly, no one looks cute in nylons!

It simply comes down to I was extremely busy with work, busy working on my relationship and busy working on being slightly lazy when I come home. Things will return to normal very soon. Then I can tell you all about standing my ground on kitchen disasters.

As you know, I’m relatively new to the whole blogging thing. I have fallen in love with the release it gives me. Just writing things down and putting them out there has helped me in so many ways. I’ve gotten over the fact that strangers might be reading what I’m putting out there, good, bad or funny. Truth be told, it wasn’t very hard to get over that. I have been a reader of blogs for awhile now which means I’ve been reading the good, bad or funny of other strangers lives. It’s fun. You get a glimpse into how others are living their lives. The choices they make. The fun they have. It’s been very therapeutic reading and writing.

But I have to admit, my most favorite thing about blogging, is the comments. I LOVE THE COMMENTS! Especially when its from a reader I have no idea who they are. When I get that little email notification saying I have a comment, my heart does a little dance and I CAN’T WAIT to click in and read it! Getting readers opinions on the topics I’ve written about is so fun.

I hope other bloggers have the same reaction or it means I am one huge dork. But I have made this resolution (yes, I know it’s not New Years, but who says resolutions are only for New Years?), I am going to try and make it a point to comment on all the blogs I read. While I may not comment on every story, every day, but I will make sure to comment as much as I can. I want to give you that feeling I get when I get a comment.

I hope the excitement never goes away. And thank you to those who have commented, friends, family or internet friends. Dork moment over!

So in the past few weeks a friend of mine has posed the following question: Can men and women be strictly friends with no sexual tension?

My immediate and even subsequent responses were “Yes, men and women can be strictly friends. I’ve had plenty of friendships with men that had no sexual tension.” I can think of several friendships that I thought were strictly friendships and did not feel that the guy was sitting there picturing us in coital bliss. Others have been quite honest in the fact that they are picturing us doing more than just talking. I appreciate their honesty. We laugh and have a good time with the thought. Although, not THAT kind of a good of a time!

But after further conversations and some thinking, I’m beginning to wonder. Maybe there is tension on one side and not the other. Sometimes the other side feels it from the person, and sometimes they don’t. While it may be completely sexist on my part, I feel that this probably happens more with the guy feeling tension than the girl. Is that to say that we females are oblivious to the tension? No, not always. We just may be so set in the fact that this is our friend, that we refuse to see it. I also feel this because women are more beautiful. It’s a fact. Sorry guys. Well, not so sorry actually. Most men will admit it, and most women will admit it. Women are more beautiful to look at.

So, since this is all I have come up with, and I promised this friend that I would get some answers, I pose the question to you, dear blog readers, can men and women be strictly friends with no sexual tension on either’s side?

I know I’ve been promising to give you a little review of what I thought about the movie. And while I can’t say too much about the movie without giving away the whole thing, suffice to say…WE LOVED IT! And for those who hated it, who are you? Where do you live? And what drugs were you on?

Yes, at over 2 1/2 hours, it was long. Do I feel that maybe a few little scenes could have been left out. Yes. But for the most part, all of it was needed to move the stories along.

And to answer the question that S asked me “Was it really good or did you girls just love it because of your girlie love for fashion?” No. The fashion had nothing to do with my love of the movie. In fact, several times, we would lean over to each other and say “WTF is she wearing.” Miranda at lunch in the park with the white boots and what looked like sweats was the big WTF. And there were guys in the movie. And the whole theater was laughing consistently. Sometimes through tears. Yes, I teared up more than once.

People are saying that the stories were wrapped up nicely and there is no need for a sequel. While I agree that they sort of closed the chapter on these stories, the SATC fan in me screams for another movie. Tell the next chapter. We need a dose of SATC every few years. Well, at least until the women are all wearing diapers again.

In my attempt to try and get ahead in life and save for the future and my children’s future, I’ve decided to sell my car. Or try to. I’m hoping you faithful, but few, readers can help spread the word. If you or someone you know are looking for a great little car, let me know!

Here are the stats:

• 2006 Scion TC
• Just over 30,000 miles
• Maintenance has been maintained by dealership according to factory recommendations
• A few minor blemishes (thanks kids!) that, when I have a buyer, I will take and have fixed and the whole car detailed. The car will be like new!
• Satellite radio ready
• Auxiliary media plug in (that’s for your iPod!)
• CD Player
• AM/FM Stereo
• Black cherry red with black interior
• Sunroof and backseat moonroof
• Premium alloy wheels
• Two door, with hatch back
• ABS Brakes
• Air bags, with upgraded knee impact bags
• Cruise Control
• AC/Heater works fabulously
• Power locks
• Power steering
• Power mirrors
• Rear defroster
• Steering wheel controls
• Integrated turning signals in mirror
• Center console
• Great gas mileage
• Asking $13,000 OBO (that’s just about what I owe on it)

I want to get rid of this as soon as I can. It’s perfect for a single person, college graduate, or small family. I’d keep it, but I want to get rid of my car payment and I have an opportunity to buy another vehicle and start saving!

Happy Father’s Day to all of my readers who are fathers. Being a father isn’t easy. You feel the need to provide, nurture, discipline and play with your kids. On top of working, yard work and whatever else you have on your plate. And even on those days that you may feel like you’re a no good father, remember, someone probably thinks you’re awesome!

I promise to write a little review of SATC soon. I know you all are dying to know what I thought about it. But for a second, I really want to take time to reflect. Happiness and sadness.

My mother, for the most part, has been my father too. Dad didn’t really become a part of my life until I had B. It’s sad, but true. We would talk occasionally when I was a teenager. Visits were few and far between. She, like me, had the enormous job of being the mother, the father, the friend, the disciplinarian. Thank you, Mom, for stepping up to the challenge.

Dad, I hope one day that we can be closer. I realize that we both need to make more of an effort to call each other. To see each other. I also realize that life is happening at warp speed. And suddenly you get to breathe and realize that 3 or 4 months have gone by without so much as a “Hello” text. Let’s both agree, on this special day, to try harder. If not for us, for B & M. They deserve to know and see and be around you (gas and airline prices aside).

Truth be told, I hadn’t really planned on blogging about Father’s Day. But then I got a phone call from my mom. First talking about a friend who is going through an extremely rough and trying time with her father. N, you are doing the right thing, and one day, he will thank you. Keep believing and trusting in yourself and your decisions.

Then the conversation turned to Father’s Day and my grandfather. Mom, if you’re not in the mood for tears, stopping reading now. Or keep reading, but remember, I gave you fair warning.

Last chance to stop.

Anyway, to give you a little history (and I will try to keep this as brief as possible), my grandfather died from injuries sustained in a car accident almost 28 years ago. I was with him in the car. I was 2 1/2 years old. Not going into details that led up to that, but know that he came to pick me up because of something bad that had happened. We were driving down the road. He in the drivers seat, me on the N seat. Remember in the older 70’s cars that had the big arm rest that flipped down in the middle of the front seat? That was MY seat. No one else was allowed to sit there. Only me. Before you freak out and demand to know why I was not in a car seat, also remember, this was back in the days when kids weren’t required to be in car seats until 8 years old (thanks new Utah law. My kid barely escaped that hell).

Anyway, we were driving down the road and a drunk lawyer hit us. Our car went spinning. Hitting a traffic light pole and wrapping the car around it. My grandfather, in his quick thinking, knocked me with his arm into the back seat. This quick decision saved my life, but cost him his, I fear and wonder sometimes. I’m told that if I had been in a car seat or seat belt, I surely wouldn’t be here typing this story for you. The scenarios would have been a steering wheel to my stomach or crushed or worse. Now, I’m not advocating no seat belts for kids. Everyone in my car buckles up before we leave. But in this case, it saved my life.

At the time, my mother was training to become an EMT. The events that led up to me getting picked up, also led her to not go to class/work that day. And it was a good thing. The ambulance that she was to ride on that day was the first to respond to our accident. Imagine what it would feel like to pull up and see your father and daughter in this mangled wreck. I can and don’t want to.

Instead, her and my grandmother were both called. The hospital could not tell them who was in the ER and who was Intensive Care. The dread of not knowing all the way there would have killed me. Either way, they knew that that one relative was ok, the other was not. The news was not going to be easy either way. When they walked through the doors, one was taken to the ER, the other was taken to Intensive Care. My mother was taken to the ER to be with me, N Doe. They knew my first name from a picture that my grandfather had in his wallet of me. Grandpa was in Intensive Care. He was a vegetable. Sustaining the worst of the injuries. He died a few days later.

I’ve often wondered if he had not knocked me into the back seat, would he have been able to maneuver himself out of harms way? Was there any way that he would have been able to survive? I lived, why couldn’t he? I won’t lie and tell you that I’ve never had survivor’s remorse. I have. I have felt guilty wondering what could have been done differently. But I can’t think about that without crying. I can’t type this without crying. It comes down to, my grandfather loved me so much, he was willing to sacrifice himself. I live with that burden and truly a gift every day. Thank you, Grandpa, for giving me a chance at life. I am sorry I never got to know you and learn from you.

Which is the reason for this post. My mom started wondering, what would she have learned from her dad? What would her children have learned from her dad? No one will ever know. But I have learned one thing, a very valuable lesson. Self-sacrifice. You sacrifice your well-being, your time, your love, your abilities, yourself for those you love. Be willing to give all of yourself even if it means you might become frustrated,  tired or hurt in the process. Think of others before yourself. He did.

I only hope that he is looking down and is proud of at least some of the things I have done and accomplished. It’s foolish to think he is proud of all. I’m not even proud of all I have done. I just hope I’ve made him more proud than disappointed.

Thank you, Grandpa, for your love and sacrifice.

It’s moving day at our office. Combining of the good and the bad. The nice and the snobby. And when I say snobby, I am in no way exaggerating! I just witnessed a snobby conversation yet again. This is not going to be fun! The group moving up here is a different breed. Everyone currently up here, for the most part, are nice, agreeable, friendly, willing do help and do what it takes to get the job done. The snobs moving up here walk with their noses in the air, think they deserve everything handed to them on a silver platter, whine and bitch incessantly. They are the type that when they have a problem with you or your work, they don’t come to you and talk to you about it. They don’t even come to your boss and talk to them. They go either to your boss’s boss or straight up to the CEO. Real grown-ups, I tell ya.

It’s also the day that I, for a little while, lose my office space. I must move back into a cubicle for what will hopefully only be a few weeks. Construction has to happen on someone else’s office before I get mine. While it will be an adjustment for a little while, I’m not bitter or angry. It could be worse. It could NOT be a temporary situation. Instead, I wait a little while, then have the glory of a door to close.

I am, however, staging my own little protest and not moving the last of my things (laptop & monitor) until the very last minute. Hey. The person moving in here has all afternoon to do it since we leave soon for a picnic. Instead, I sit here, pretending to work, typing this post.

It’s also the day that we are FINALLY going to see SATC. We’ve gotten a nice group of girls together for dinner and the movie. It should be a fabulous little reunion of sorts. I am way excited.

Now, if I only didn’t have to go to the Summer Picnic for work. It’s a gorgeous day. A perfect day for a picnic. But I’d rather be sitting in my own backyard, doing my own things, than to be spending a beautiful Friday afternoon with people I see all the time and playing silly games. I hate games. Not a fan of games. At least not the ones I’ve seen played at picnics past.

And just an FYI, just witnessed yet another snobby conversation. Do they think people can’t hear? Or do they just don’t care? That closed door can’t come soon enough.

I think it’s time that we cover a heavy issue. Everyone seems to want to talk about it. Not a day goes by that someone doesn’t say something to me about it. So let’s do it. Weight.

First, let me get this out of the “weigh” (yes, I’m going to use this every chance I get). I am not anorexic, bulimic, using laxatives, on a diet, or whatever eating disorder there is. I eat. Every day. In fact, right now I am inhaling a Peanut Butter Twix. This after having half of a HUGE cookie at lunch, along with a whole cheese combo sandwich and chips from Granato’s, and a croissant as wide as my “weigh”st for breakfast. Oh yeah, and a fun size milky “weigh” this morning. Add this with a red bull, a 16 oz cup of coffee/hot chocolate, and two cups of Dr. Pepper with lunch, and I think I’m doing ok on calories. We haven’t even hit 3:30 yet.

But, as I’m walking back to my desk, a co-worker, who I’ve known since I started here, stops me and starts begging me to eat. “Please eat something. Go to Wendy’s, go to the Bistro, just eat!”

So I explain what I have eaten so far today. His response is just “Ok. So. Yeah. Uh huh.”

“I promise you I am eating. The weight’s just not sticking.”

I feel like I am saying the above phrase all the time. At least once a day. To someone. Yes, I do realize that I have lost weight since December. Matter of fact, after stepping on Mom’s scale on Saturday, I realized how much. Which as a side note, it is a very bad idea to step on the scale in front of your mom after your mom has been on you about your weight. She looked at the scale, “116 lbs. Are you serious?”

All I could do was shrug my shoulders. No response. I don’t have one. I have no excuses, no reasons, no problems to explain why I’ve lost weight. I had my thyroid checked in December. Everything was fine. I work out once a week. And truth be told, I haven’t been to Pilates in two weeks. Otherwise, Saturday morning Pilates class is the only exercise I get. Yes I do realize that I have lost 9 lbs since December. No I’m not trying. No I’m not sick. And no, I’m not worried. At 5 ft 7 in, I’m not too worried. A few more pounds, yes, I will probably be worried.

To Mom’s credit, that was the end of the discussion. I actually expected a lecture or something. I have received a lecture about a month ago about it. I told her I would start sending her pictures of me eating at every meal as proof. Last night, while at an event, I was eating a cookie. I opened my mouth, full of cookie, and said “Look Ma, I’m eating.”

I joke about it. It’s what I do. If I was really sick, I wouldn’t joke about it. I wouldn’t make “light” of the situation. I am eating. I will continue to eat. I make this promise to you here and now.

Here is the problem. The heavy weight behind my weight. I’m not going to lie to you and tell you I am naturally thin. Or genetically predisposed to it. Or that I’ve been dieting like crazy. It’s STRESS. I don’t keep weight on when I’m stressed. And if you haven’t read past posts, just read a few to understand just part of the stress I’ve been dealing with lately. And you’ll quickly understand.

No, I don’t really want to eat when I’m stressed. In fact, my stomach pretty much shuts off. But, I force myself to eat. And sometimes, yes, I am starving. So I eat. Other times, I eat simply because I know that my body needs fuel. Or if I don’t eat, someone will think I have a disorder.

But stress is at the root of this problem. And yes, I realize that there are a few stressors that I personally can change or deal with. But there are many that I cannot. All I can do right now is make sure I eat. Make healthy choices, adding in a cookie or a brownie or a candy bar or all three when I feel like it.

So please. I know I am skinny. I know I have lost weight. I’m not blind. But I know I don’t have an eating disorder. I know I don’t have any health problems. And I know that I am not the skinniest girl for my height. I know that right now, I am ok with myself and my weight. And that’s enough for me.