How to make an "Impression" on a Potential Employer

1. Complete application and drop off paper work at job site. Don't call ahead of time despite potential employer's email request that you make an appointment. Just show up unannounced. This will establish you as an independent, "out-of-the-box" thinker.

2. Bring someone along with you, if you like. Perhaps the company of your two-year-old in a stroller? Just be sure not to strap him in so he has full range of motion when the time is right.

3. You probably thought you could just hand off your paperwork to the secretary and be on your way. Not so. The secretary will ask you to wait in the lobby while she phones the head of HR to come out and speak with you. Do not be alarmed. Although you will interrupt HR's urgent project or important meeting when she gets your call, just remember that you are more important and worth every moment of her valuable time.

4. When she takes you back to her office, she will waste no time going over the necessary information. Simultaneously, your two-year-old will announce that he is "done" sitting quietly in the stroller. His squawking and arm flailing will reach new heights of hysteria that leave even YOU speechless. Immediately remove two-year-old from stroller while never breaking eye contact with HR. Stay calm. HR is too impressed by your multi-tasking to be annoyed by two-year-old.

5. Continue pretending to listen to HR's instructions while holding two-year-old in your arms. He's really "done" with this place now and is going to let you know it. You will suffer repeated, close-range blows to your face from those sweet, chubby little hands. The slaps will be coming at you so quickly you will not be able to stop them. Keep smiling and nodding at the appropriate times. You will find it increasingly difficult to maintain your composure when he grabs a handful of your lips and begins to twist them around on your face like a knob. Continue with the smiling and head nodding. You are truly showcasing your crisis management skills now.

6. Unexpectedly, your potential employer will appear and invite you into a conference room to meet the entire staff. Put aside the challenges you've faced thus far because now's your time to shine. Smile and shake hands with confidence as if to say, "Look at me! I'm your gal!" Try not to read too much into their facial expressions. True, a few of them look confused, maybe even a bit uncomfortable, but they probably just ate too much for lunch.

7. It's time to leave the job site and give yourself a pat on the back. You were the picture of professionalism!

8. As you buckle your two-year-old into his car seat, happen to glance into the car window. You may notice long, dark streaks across your cheek in a shade of red bearing a striking resemblance to the lipstick you applied this morning. At this point, I have no further assistance to offer you. You are on your own with this one. Good Luck! (You're going to need it...)

So, Where've You Been?

I haven't been around much lately. In fact, my time here has been dwindling significantly over the last couple of months. At first, I blamed it on the hectic holiday season, but come on now, it's February already. Besides, I wouldn't exactly call not shopping, not cooking, and not going anywhere a "hectic" Christmas.

Then the blame shifted to the kids. They are clearly "anti-blogging". Every time I sit down to do a little tap-tap-tapping on the keyboard, one of them suddenly appears with a Code Red situation for me to handle. Just five minutes ago, Lil' Miss called me into the bathroom to help her clean up a wad of wet toilet paper on the bathroom floor which, by the way, was not wet with water.

Baby Dude prefers a more direct approach to "Operation: Abort Mother's Blogging". While I'm on the computer, he climbs up on my chair, wiggles his way behind me, and hooks his arms around my neck in a choke hold. Shockingly, I don't write very well while being strangled to death. I know, I'm a weak person.

Dude's also adopted a new nighttime persona- Mr. Light Sleeper. And did I mention that his room is right next to the computer? So every time I attempt to bust out a few words, he lets me have it. I can hear him flopping around in his crib and then he starts in with that ridiculous moaning like I was blowing a trumpet in his ear. Such a baby! I told Honk I needed a laptop because I CAN'T GET ANY WRITING DONE IN THIS HOUSE ANYMORE! and he said something about millions of jobs lost, homes in foreclosure and impending financial doom, but yeah honey, we'll get you that laptop.

Truth be told, the absence of blogging probably has a lot to do with the financial crisis. So many unanswered questions about the future. Everything feels uncertain and unknown. I can't think straight! I guess all this stress and fear has really put a crink in my creative hose.

But maybe I should be writing no matter what. Maybe it will remind me that life goes on. I mean, God is always with me anyways, right? Can blogging be a sign of faith?

Always Look on the Bright Side of Life

Not to go all Taoist on you, but lately I've been thinking about the philosophy of Yin and Yang, the idea that everything in life has opposing forces or dualities like dark and light, negative and positive. No, I'm not really considering the ascetic life of a Chinese monk (although an occasional vow of silence is seriously tempting...), I'm just saying that I can see some truth in it.

Take my job, for instance. As a part-time writing tutor, I can set my own hours, help contribute to the family income, and continually flex my teaching muscles. Not to mention, since my business is based on referrals, I've never had to do any marketing (with the exception of one hot, miserable summer that I spent schlepping tutoring flyers throughout local neighborhoods while Baby Hulk and Lil' Electra clawed each other's eyes out in the jogger). But best of all, I can still be home with my kids. Is there a Yang, a "light" side to my job? Oh yeah, and man, that light is BLINDING.

But let us also consider the Yin. While tutoring does allow me to be home with Lil' Miss and Baby Dude, I'm not really there for them. I'm working, an action defined by my kids as "not playing with us". And so far, I haven't been very successful at revising a student's essay while outwitting Lil' Miss in a game of Old Maid at the same time. (Believe me, I've tried.) It's a tough balancing act, one that keeps me dog-paddling in a pool of guilt. But fortunately, we have a slew of fabulous babysitters (whose names and phone numbers I will never, ever, EVER give you, not even if you pin me down, sit on my chest, and dangle a loogie over my head, so don't even ask). My kids absolutely adore our sitters and would happily leave me face down in a ditch if it meant fifteen minutes in their presence, so that helps. But even still, I feel pulled in two directions, one of which is not bringing me any closer to a "Mother-of-the-Year" banquet held in my honor.

Moreover, I'm forced to deal with some "interesting" behavior due to the nature of my clientele. I'm still not exactly sure how this happened, but I pretty much own the local market on tutoring third and fourth grade boys in writing. It's a bizarre phenomenon. As are those boys. God love 'em, but they are a strange breed. They can be hysterically funny and head-waggingly weird all in an hour's time. When asked to elaborate with details about why their summer trip to San Francisco was so amazing, they randomly blurt out, "I like CHICKEN!" When pressed to develop a resolution for their story about buried treasure they explain, "Then I'll wipe out all the pirates with my machine gun and blow up their lifeless bodies with hand grenades!" (Notice there's still no mention of buried treasure, but at least some good action verbs...) My personal favorite was the use of a shotgun in a lovely story titled, "Saving the Puppy". On the bright side? I've become somewhat of an expert on World War II aircraft and weaponry. Yay!!

Sometimes I feel more like an animal trainer or cat herder than teacher, like that long forgotten white-woman-turned-Indian, "Dances with Squirrels". Although they crack me up most of the time, these boys can also drive me batty. Last week I watched in horror as one of them with a nasty winter cold played basketball with his used Kleenex. Don't believe me? Here's the "Snot Box" he was aiming for.

Their distractibility is mind blowing. It doesn't take much- a rustling leaf in the backyard, a car alarm going off, the sound of their own breathing- to launch their minds like misguided missiles into mental galaxies far, far away. The discovery of eraser shavings on the table or the sight of a water ring left by their cup could easily hypnotize them for eons. "Well," you say, "at least their sitting still, right?" Sure, if by "sitting still" you mean kicking the legs of my table, tapping their pencil like Ringo Starr, and asking to use the bathroom every three seconds.

My tutoring sessions have become breeding grounds for absurd tangents and unsolicited advice. Summarizing an article about the history of kites could easily segue into a discussion about the intelligence of octopuses and whether they'd make good tutoring students. I especially enjoy their insightful parenting wisdom such as, "Hey, you know what you should do when Baby Dude cries? You should just put him in his room and lock the door until he stops. Just leave him in there, for hours and hours... Some things just take time with kids." I usually respond with, "Remind me not to call you in eight years to babysit them."

It's all pretty harmless so I wouldn't exactly say my job has a dark side. Maybe just a shady one at times. But this is true of most things in life. There are always things to be thankful for and always things to complain about. I guess it just depends on what you choose to focus on. For example, I'm pretty thankful that I don't have to tutor octopuses. How's that for optimism?

A Year in Review

Some of my friends like to look through their calendars at the end of the year to reflect back on memorable people, places, and events. I think it's much more interesting to clean out the "Favorites" file on my internet browser. As I search to delete old websites that I've bookmarked over the year, I find myself smiling the same way I do when I look through an old photo album. I even learn a few life lessons along the way. Here are just a few of "my favorite things" of 2008.

1. www.crateandbarrel.com
Apparently, I was in the market for one of these entryway benches because there were at least fifteen other sites similar to this one, all of them benches of dark wood, approximately thirty-six inches long. Funny how I completely forgot about it, the bench I just HAD to have, the bench I fantasized about, arranged under our entryway mirror in my mind a thousand times...

2. http://www.theracingexperience.com/
I spent weeks researching various car racing schools for Honk's birthday. I think this example serves as some pretty good evidence that despite my incessant throat clearing, a decade of dinners consisting of tacos, spaghetti, taco salad, and spaghetti salad, and whiny complaints about dirty, discarded socks, I am still the BEST WIFE EVER!!!


3. http://www.cuddlebabies.com/
I remember how stoked I was to discover this site. They sent me a printing kit so my kids' actual handprints could be scanned onto silver charms. Very cool. These charms earned me the highly sought after "Daughter-In-Law-of-the-Year" award.

Unfortunately, I can't recommend these precious charms to you because dealing with their customer service was about as enjoyable as having a broken arm reset. They overcharged me, never returned my phone calls, and basically gave me the run-around. (Bitter? Who's bitter?) This one is a great reminder that you can have a great product (or image or message or philosophy etc., etc.), but if you don't treat people well, who cares? As it stands, I'd rather wear my children's toenail clippings around my neck than one of their stupid charms (unless they'd like to return my money and my phone calls in which case, YES, of course I'll wear your adorable charms...)

4. www.disney.go.com/magicartist/coloring/index.html
I'd say about half of my 2008 bookmarks were princess-related sites: princess videos, princess toys, princess gowns, princess games... This one is an online princess coloring page from the Disney website.

Holy Fairy Godmother, was that girl crazy about princesses! Almost everything we did and everywhere we went involved some element of princessmania. How many trips to the grocery store, the bank, and the library did those princess gowns make? At some point they no longer felt like cartoon characters, but like distant relatives or ancestors whom we kept alive with our dress-ups and reinactments.

But those gowns don't get out all that much anymore. Occasionally, when a friend comes over to play, Lil' Miss might take out her princess barbie dolls or open the lid to her chest and rummage around for a certain gown, but not all that often. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I think Lil' Miss's princess stage might be coming to a close. For all my eye rolling and deep sighing while assisting in those countless princess wardrobe changes, I will really miss those ladies. (sniff, sniff...)

5. http://www.customcorsets.com/
About this time last year, I was being prepped for abdominal surgery. After delivering Baby Dude, I discovered an abnormal lump under my right rib cage. I showed family members and close friends who felt it and said, "Hmmm... You should definitely get that thing checked out." I went to my Primary Physician who felt it and said, "Hmmm... You should definitely have a surgeon check that thing out." I went to a reputable Newport Beach surgeon who felt it and said, "Hmmm... hernia? tumor? CANCER? You should definitely have an ultrasound taken of that thing, whatever it is... I'm still scheduling you for surgery next week."

I went to get an ultrasound and quietly asked the technician, "So, listen. I know you're not supposed to say anything, but just between you and me, what do YOU think it is?" She never took her eyes off of that ultrasound machine when she whispered under her breath, "So they really ruled out a floating rib?"

"A WHAT? I asked.

"A floating rib. Go look it up. I'm just saying, it looks and feels like one to me..."

I raced home and typed in "floating rib" on the internet. In case you're an anatomical nitwit like myself, allow me to introduce you: Reader, Floating Rib. Floating rib, Reader.

Floating ribs are classified as our bottommost ribs which are not attached to our ribcage. They are actually joined to our back vertebrae, making them more... pliable. During my floating rib research, I discovered numerous accounts of women who after giving birth to big babies (Baby Dude definitely fell in the "big baby" category at 9 lbs, 11 oz.) discovered ribs poking out of their abdomens. Apparently, big, uterus-hogging babies can actually push out or reshape the floating ribs. My reading convinced me that it was definitely a floating rib. It had to be! It was the only thing that made any sense. But I was still scheduled for surgery in a few days!

Meanwhile, the ultrasound tests came back inconclusive. I mentioned the floating rib to my primary physician who said, "Hmmm... could be!" I mentioned the floating rib to my surgeon who said, "Hmmm... could be! Uhhhhh... let's postpone surgery for now."

Good idea, doc! Geez, so much for faith in the medical profession! If I ever encounter another body oddity again, I'm going straight to an ultrasound technician and to the only true, unbiased source of knowledge left on this planet- Wikipedia!

Relieved that cancer, tumors, and surgery were no longer on my long list of things to worry about, I still had to deal with the rib protrusion. It looked like a baby alien had burrowed itself in my body cavity and was trying to poke it's head out through my stomach. (Maybe an exaggeration, but only a slight one.) What was I supposed to do? Ignore it? Pretend that everyone's ribs open and close like security gates? Now how was I supposed to enter and win the Mrs. Huntington Beach beauty/bathing suit competition? (Hey! What are you laughing about!) I had to explore my options and that's when I came up with this brilliant idea:

That's right, a custom-made corset. Think Elizabethan-Courtier-Meets-Suburban-Housewife, minus the sultry poses and seductive eyes. I know. Not exactly what you were thinking for me, but I was desperate! How else was I supposed to force my mutant rib into submission?

Lucky for me (and for my family, friends, and anyone else who comes in contact with me), I would soon discover from internet testimonials that these expensive boa constrictors for the waist are uncomfortable, sweaty, and must be worn all day and all night for MONTHS AT A TIME. I tried to imagine how I'd carry out my motherly duties with one of these things on. "Sorry, kids. Mommy can't play Hide-n-Seek anymore because I can no longer bend down. I also can't give baths, cook, or do any other activity requiring physical movement. Mommy would also appreciate it if you didn't make her laugh or turn too quickly unless you enjoy watching her cry like a wounded puppy."

It's been quite a while since I've come back to this site. It's a good reminder that life's uncertainties and unexpecteds can make you feel terrible and desperate in the moment. But usually, time has a way of working things out or helping you to forget. At least until bathing suit season comes around again...

I know, this post was WAY too long. But we're talking about a whole year here! I could waste an hour of your reading time just talking about port-a-potties, so what'dya expect?

It's amazing to think about all that goes on in one year, isn't it?