The 4:45 divide
This has been a really busy week at work. We have been staying late to meet deadlines, pulling 12-hour days, blah blah-dee-dee-blah-blah.
Oh, and by “we” I mean we, the child-less employees. Parents, on the other hand, seem to have a fistful of get-outta-jail-free cards.
Our office is made up of pretty young people — I’m the youngest, at 25, and the oldest is maybe 35. So we are all either married or attached, and a few employees have kids.
Yesterday, in the midst of a mega-crisis, the “parents” in our bunch raced out the door at 4:45, explaining it away with daycare pick-ups.
The rest of us? Yeah, we got to stay late …
It was the same at my previous job. The mommies and daddies got to work flexible hours, were excused from certain shifts, and usually were not asked to stay late. It’s not even a matter of seniority, because the older child-less employees were stuck working.
I would imagine that sometimes they feel guilty. I was in a cast last summer, and had to work from home occassionally when I couldn’t get a ride. And I felt terrible about that.
If I return to the full-time workforce once we have children, I’m sure I’ll be taking advantage of flex-hours and the other perks, too. Plus dealing with the guilt of being a working parent.
But it really does suck to be on the “other” side of it, and I hope I remember that, as I rush to daycare at 4:45 … leaving the child-less employees cursing me behind my back.
5 things I have rediscovered since going off the pill
- Extreme klutziness. As a teenager, I was constantly smashing into doorways, cupboards, basically anything. Ever since going off the pill, I have been exceedingly klutzy — could it be related? I must ask my science-y Sis …
- Period cramps. Didn’t really have them while on the pill, but now I’m a Midol junkie.
- Heightened sense of smell. OK, I’m really not sure if this is possible, or just all in my head. My sense of smell has been bad since an unfortunate playground mishap when I was 14 (yeah, I know, too old to be playing on it anyway). But suddenly I am smelling Darling Husband’s coffee — wow, it’s strong — and I never did before.
- Patience. Of course, I still fly off the handle sometimesssss. I am human. But lately I do find myself a little less bi-otchy. Hubby, if you’re reading this, I said a little!
- Paranoia. I was always paranoid, of course, but lately it’s even more so, because I don’t have the protective reassurance of Madame Tri-Cyclen. The freak-out from a few weeks ago was … something I hope not to repeat.
Hmmm, so basically I am …
- Bruised
- In pain
- Sniffing better
- Slightly nicer
- Extra-paranoid
Geez.
The "quiet" book
I am totally on an embroidery kick lately! Over at Handmade by Jill, Miss Jill is displaying pages of the oh-so-cute fabric “quiet book” she is making for her son.
I’m not sure if it’s called “quiet” because the pages are fabric (i.e. no rustling?) or because it keeps your kid quiet/distracted — but technically, it is both, and I love the idea.
I’ve only ever written for teens and adults, but I have always wanted to write childrens’ stories — and how CUTE would it be to make a cloth book out of a story or poem you wrote yourself???
Blog love
I am totally going to obsess over this, week by week. I know it.
It is … drumroll, please … the Zero to Forty Pregnancy Weekly Calendar with Amalah.
Her writing is hilarious, and there are adorable cartoons and general awesomeness. LOVE.
The most annoying woman EVER
If looks could kill, I would have murdered a woman on the bus yesterday. I’m writing about it to remember what kind of mother I never want to be!
She walked on, screaming and yakking with her friends, and then proceed to make a call on her cell phone. A loud call. Like the entire bus was silent, and she didn’t know — or care — that she was yelling into her phone.
I am the kind of person that texts on the bus, so that I don’t bug the crap out of everyone around me. If my BlackBerry does receive a call, I hiss into the receiver that I can’t talk because I’m on the bus. Yeah, I have a little thing called bus manners.
Let me provide the stintilating transcript …
ANNOYING WOMAN: “Hi Dominic! … It’s Mommy! … Mommy loves you! … Mommy LOVES you! …
ME (in my head): Ughhhhh. Too loud, too loud, too loud!
ANNOYING WOMAN: Dominic! Dominic! … Mommy will see you tomorrow … Mommy will see you TOMORROW … Is it bath night? … Are you having a bath? … Dominic? … It’s MOMMY! … Mommy’s gonna see you tomorrow! … Are you being good? … Dommmmminic!
ME: *Sigh*
ANNOYING WOMAN: Mommy loves you! … Dominic! … Oh, my phone is acting weird. Why is my phone acting weird?
ME (in my head): Probably because everyone else on this bus is willing your phone to self-destruct.
ANNOYING WOMAN: Mommy loves you! … Dominic! … Hi … Hi … Hi! … No, you can’t see Mommy … No, it’s not a see-through phone, Bud … Mommy loves you!
Oh. My. God.
She kept up that IDENTICAL dialogue for 20 minutes — no joke. When she got off at her stop, there was a collective sigh from every other passenger.
Never, never, never.
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Heather's Handmade Life 