A phone call we never expected.

Last week Colin's teacher, Mrs. Kelly, called saying she needed to talk about Colin. The fear of dread hit my stomach wondering exactly what he did since we've never gotten a phone call about him. Jason had the same response/look when I told him Mrs. Kelly called to talk about Colin.

Mrs. Kelly wondered if I still wanted to do his parent-teacher conference since it wasn't necessary for him. She further qualified this question by stating he's working well above his age and that I know she thinks he's a phenomenal student. His only issue is sitting still, something she feels doesn't require a conference. We decided to go ahead with the conference since Jason hadn't met her yet. Only I realized this morning the conference is tomorrow when Jason is in class.

I really never expected a phone call saying the parent-teacher conference isn't necessary.

Apparently I suck

and I'm also negative in regards to my job. Well at least with one of the parents at the gym. I don't think she realizes how much our personalities are alike which is probably why she's judged me based on a snapshot view out of a day.

All this boils down to two comments I made taken out of context, especially the one where I continued in talking with her son about how I'm not ticklish. I have regularly told this parent how much her kid cracks me up and he rocks. Those comments have rendered nary a blip on her radar. Nope, instead I'm negative and suck.

I can't wait until the next time she comes into the gym with her kid only because I am aware of her comments about me. She'd mentioned to my supervisor I could come out and talk to her about all of this. Not going to happen since the chances of my being at the gym at the same time as her means I'm working. I won't have a discussion with a parent about her perception of me. My job is temporary and part-time. I'm not interested in getting one parent's ideas changed since she's thrown down a line in which I have become damned no matter my interaction with her or her kids.

Will work for childcare.

Okay, so that's what I'm doing at the moment. In the near future I'm hoping things will change. Or maybe I can bribe someone for things to change. I'm not above bribery.

This summer we're heading to D.C.. While I've been checking out the jobs on CPOL, Monster and usajobs.com, I can't really go all gungho with the job search until we're closer in leaving Kansas. Spousal preference can't be used until we're 30 days out. That's a card I want to hold onto dearly, one I probably won't lose until hitting up Ft. Myer's employment office. I know there's an official name of which I've drawn a huge blank on.

I'm excited in knowing my foot will get back into the door with employment. Of the searches completed, there isn't a lack of jobs in the D.C. area. My problem is not having the secret squirrel clearance type of thing. I say everyone should retire already and let the newbies get a stranglehold in the government system.

At this point I have several people checking out my resume, giving me pointers and laughing their arses off. I also need to update Resumix with their ideas and hope something will bite in the NoVA area.

Here's a new experience

Since moving to Kansas we went with an aircard for internet instead of normal DSL. Such a fun thing to use since I'm typing this on the road as we drive down to Atlanta.

Currently there's traffic snarl just north of Nashville. Jason's listening to football on the radio, the boys are on a munchkin high so there's just a few giggles coming from the back. Me? I'm attempting to ignore all the noise around me especially the calls for watching a movie on the computer. Nuh uh, not when I can putz around online since I can't read a book at the moment.

Bah Humbug

And I shouldn't be feeling this way on Christmas Eve. The boys are sitting on the couch watching holiday shows. The fire is burning in the fireplace in hopes my frozen toes will defrost. I'm typing away in a vicodin high with the idea I can dull some of the pain in my back. I don't know why I expected things to go smoothly this week since the month started with a chunk of change being thrown at the van.

Saturday had an ER visit with Brendan. I was there on Sunday for a massive UTI which is being treated empirically. Try telling my body things aren't so bad in my urine when I'm doubled over in pain, sobbing and can't stop vomiting. Such is the joys of being a woman. Yesterday I threw my back out by simply getting out of the recliner. I really should have gone to the ER for massive quantities of muscle relaxers. You can feel how much the left side has seized up, which further questions my sanity in not going to the ER. I couldn't though. My limit on ER visits is two per week, not three, thank you very much. You can feel how much the left side has seized up, which further questions my sanity in not getting the right drugs.

So here I sit on the same recliner I threw my back out, typing away in my vicodin high the night before Christmas. The boys are laughing, enjoying the idea of Santa coming tonight. All would be better if there was a glass of spiked nog sitting next to me instead of Mountain Dew.

Holiday baking goes bust

This year my gifts for the boys teachers and friends would be baked goods. The ambitious part of me had grand ideas of all sorts of goodies along the lines of what Mom did back in the day. The realistic part of me realized this was all a fantasy.

Still, I had plans in baking several different cookie and loaf recipes. I started with a low-carb oatmeal pecan cookie recipe from Weight Watchers. This would be the one healthy recipe made. All three boys helped add all the ingredients, talking animatedly about the cookies. I dolled out the first tray, popped it in the oven, turned the timer on and waited.

The cookies flattened out on the baking stone. Melted is the best description for how they looked. I scraped up the oatmeal bits so the boys could see how the glop turned out. Rather tasty considering the hideous mess left on the stone. With this fiasco I decided to turn the cookies into cookie bars. I scooped the rest of the batch into a pan and popped it into the oven.

At some point I checked on the cookies turned into cookie bars. They were bubbling over the edges, glopping onto the bottom of the oven where it started to burn. I kept an eye on the oven despite the impending mess for a few more minutes before realizing this recipe truly failed. I haven't a clue who came up with this disaster at Weight Watchers but my failed attempt didn't match their picture. No crisp looking oatmeal pecan cookies came piping hot out of my oven. Instead I pulled out piping hot goo.

Do we smell?

Jason made a comment several weeks back on how it's nice having good neighbors who actually help us out when asked. For some reason most of the places we've lived the nice has been all lip service.

I started talking with Carrie about this rather common phenomenon in the military. We've both experienced the same thing with our respective neighbors. For me I can't help think it's Jason and I which causes this behavior in others. While I know this isn't true some part must be true for it to keep happening.

I'm not saying our neighbors haven't helped us out because they have. When I moved the boys and I from Auerbach to Grafenwoehr our neighbors helped. Once we left the street we became persona non grata. I tried gathering everyone together for dinner in thanks only it felt as if we dropped off the face of the earth. Everyone had a reason why they couldn't come over but they had no problem doing things with each other on our old street or when they all moved to a completely different city. Although this is the same neighborhood where I got the 'we help each other out all the time' which was a complete bullshit phrase being uttered from their mouths. The few times I needed help with the boys, those three people fumbled around for their excuses.

Or maybe I should look at this from a purely military perspective. You're a good neighbor as long as you live there. Once you move you no longer exist. I know from talking with others they've felt this just as much as I have. This troubles me because we're all in the same situation you'd think we'd bond together in some type of solidarity. Doesn't happen especially if you don't fall into their unwritten rules of how a spouse should behave. Or whatever they have going through their heads.

It's just nice knowing we have neighbors who actually follow through on their saying ask us for anything. Or who'll help out in a pinch as I've run across the street to Jan when a swarm of wasps came out of the bushes I was trimming back. Or Tom helping carry in our new chair as he saw us struggling one night while walking his dog. Things like this never happened before without a feeling of our imposing on those being asked. We'll enjoy this giddy feeling of neighborly good while it lasts.