Spitting Prohibited

observations.

I'm not good at combining blogging and working 40 hours a week.  I know.  I keep thinking my family deserves that extra time in the day.

Also, making lunches for my kids to take to school.  Shah!  I can't get that together more than twice a week.  I ought to have a routine developed by now to factor that in.  Unfortunately my routine seems to be:

1. get up
2. shower
3. get dressed
4. wake the kids up
5. start breakfast
6. rewake the kids up
7. finish breakfast
8. really yell at the child that is still not up
9. start some aspect of lunches
10. realize I still haven't done my hair or makeup
11. get the kids to finish breakfast and start brushing teeth, getting shoes and socks, gathering things for their backpacks that should have been put away last night
12. realize there is no time to finish making lunches, aw crap, it's another buying day kids!
13. grab a granola bar for my own breakfast and rush everyone out the door.

...But other than that working seems to be going pretty well.  For those of you who've asked.  Thanks for asking.  We're adapting pretty well.  15 minutes more in the morning and the time to fold the laundry, and not having to go to the grocery store with the masses, oh and taking down the Christmas decorations, which obviously is not something that needs to be worked into my every day schedule, and not much has changed.  Which forces me to accept that a good portion of my time was not exceptionally well spent. 

Frankly  my house should be much better organized. 

But I'm much better about recognizing my faults than doing anything about them it appears.

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All Grant wants for his birthday is a planet.  I was thinking this was going to have to be something between him and God, but then I realized all I have to do is point out the brightest star on his birthday and voila!  "There you go son, that one's yours."  Sweet. 

Perhaps I should point out the midrange bright ones, because the chances of us ever exploring those at least in his lifetime are fairly remote.  He can live happy in the lie that he owns that planet over there...somewhere...

Oh I should say, all he wants for his birthday is a planet and a bike.  Do you think the pointing out a bike somewhere in the cosmos thing would work for this too?  Because if we can figure that out, I am set.

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Speaking of birthdays, you're right Jon had a birthday.  What a bad mommy I am to not even mention it.  To you, I mean.  I totally mentioned it and more to him.  Just in case you are wondering.

  

               

(clickity to biggify)

I think it's fairly apparent I need to learn how to hold my camera in the horizontal position.

In spite of that, we had fun.  He had a Mario Party.  And Mom even played video games.  I'm not sure my children fully appreciated the sacrifice as my scores didn't really contribute to our chances of beating the evil Wario team. 

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So, I've been drawn into Facebook.

It's fun and I don't have to really think too much to post.  An obvious plus.  I don't think much before I post around here come to think of it.  But you didn't have to mention it.

But I see some drawbacks.

Pardon me if I complain...too much.

I don't want to build castles in the digital world.  I don't want a plant for my green patch to solve global warming.  I don't want to become fans of everything in the universe.  If I really am such a fan, you'll know about it from the things I actually speak to you about.  And it may be mean to mention it, but I'm not sure I want to be Friends with everyone I used to know in High school and everywhere else.  I mean if we were such good friends, wouldn't we have stayed in contact? 

I miss the good old days where you would happen to meet some one you used to know, you get that chance to say, "HEY!  How are you?"  You'd find out what they are doing, if they have kids, married, career...and then, here's the part I miss, you'd go on with your every day life and they'd go on with theirs.  If you really wanted to you could exchange phone numbers or email addresses and then if you were really actually friends with that person you'd stay in contact after this chance meeting.  But if you weren't, not much would change.  You'd have had an enjoyable 15 - 30 minute conversation and then your obligation was over.

ahhhh...over...

But now we have Facebook.  And the days of the unending obligations begin. 

Do I really want to know that Person A, that I didn't care enough about to know much about for the last 20 years, is: looking for love in all the wrong places.  Or some such thing.

Tomorrow, Person A is: wondering whether or not to buy that new album.

In 2 days: Person A is....killing me softly with his endless Facebooking comments that I care nothing about!!!!  Aghhhh.

I'm trying to be discriminating in who I befriend in the Facebook world, but I worry about the possible ramifications of nonfriending someone who asks.  Will they, for example, think I am a snobby stuck up pig if I never respond to their friendliness.  Will it get ugly?  Will my lack of friendly contact cause them to spiral into a cycle of despair and depression?  Is Facebook their only source for companionship? Do I want that on my already over burdened conscience?

Do I care?

And what if I Un-friend them after I friend them because they are clogging up my Home page and causing me to miss things from people I actually am Friends?

These are dilemmas for which I have no real answers. 

To daycare or not to daycare...that is the question

So, we just got word that the afterschool program we were going to put Jon and Alex in that we thought was going to cost around $55 a week is actually going to cost $110 a week. Suddenly Tom's thought of changing his schedule to 8's and him getting home earlier is sounding a lot better.

What Happens when We're Bored

You may want to look away. It is all too frightening. Those with weak stomachs may wish to leave the room. Yes, it's true...

...inspite of all experience that should teach me better,

                                                    ...with callous disregard for past calamities,

...with a foolhardy attempt at what has already been attempted and failed time and time again!

I'll try to show you some video.  I know.  It's pathetic. 

                                                                                    (We'll never make it.  We're all doomed.)

Photo Sharing - Video Sharing - Photo Printing - Photo Books

Photo Sharing - Video Sharing - Photo Printing - Photo Books

 
Photo Sharing - Video Sharing - Photo Printing - Photo Books

Did it work?  I can't look.  (If No Continue reading, if Yes, say an immediate prayer of gratitude and skip to Paragrah: "I Can't Believe It".

No?

Crap.

Just go here: Stinking Videos that Stinking will not work on my blog, even though I follow all the stinking instructions.

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I Can't Believe It!  Hurray!  I'm so thrilled.  I'm elated.  I couldn't be more excited!

...Anyways, I always knew it would. Why did you doubt me?

Interview with the Hellion

So I think I've mentioned in the past the on-going saga of "Is it time to go back to Work?" that is a reoccurring topic of conversation and drama in the Sketchy household.  My poor husband.  He is always supportive of which ever neurosis hits me.

Some days I think 'My youngest is in school!  Let the vacation money, college savings plans, debt paying off party begin!'

And then I think 'I don't ever want to put my kids in a position where there mommy won't be there for them if they need her!  And Alex is only in school for about 2.5 hours anyway, that still means daycare for the rest of the time.  And I barely keep up on things around the house the way it is!'

Sometimes I do this 2 or 3 times a night.  And of course then I lay this all on my poor husband, whom I think it is quite wonderful that he hasn't at the very least yelled at me to make up my mind already!

But then a couple of weeks ago I saw an intriguing ad, and it was in one of my debt paying off modes.  A local private school was looking for a bookkeeper.

'Hmmmm,' thinks I, 'it says full-time, but that could mean anything from 32-40 hours.  And I can't imagine they have that much accounting work anyway, maybe they are just not wanting to scare off potential applicants by saying part-time.  And maybe their summer hours would be reduced...'

So I threw caution to the wind and applied.

And I didn't hear anything.

I assumed they had filled the position.

And then they called!  They set up an interview for the following day!

And I got subsequently very excited and very nervous.

Today was the interview.

So.  I show up about 15 minutes early.  I was going to wait in the parking lot and listen to the radio until it was time to go in, but then I noticed I was getting a few odd looks from employees, and this is a school, so I assume safety issues are a priority.  And just sitting there was making me even more nervous.  So I took a drive, wasted about 10 minutes, figured that 5 minutes early would show an attention to promptness.  So I went in.

"Hello Kimberly!"  I was greeted. 

"It's Sketchy." I corrected.

Slight confusion, apparently Kimberly is the next interview.  He'd been going through resumes on his desk before I'd come in and mixed them up.  No problem.  Got that straightened out and things were going well.

He seemed impressed by my demeanor, my experience.  My obvious comfort in a school setting.  I hate to brag, but I think I had the man eating out of my hand.  I wouldn't have been too surprised if he'd started introducing me around the office as the new employee.

And I was similarly happy.  The accounting job would be about 30 hours a week, however if I needed full-time their business manager had retired recently and they thought they might switch some of the responsibilities to the accounting office if that was what it took to get the right person.  '30 hours is perfect.' I thinks.  AND summer hours are very reduced, they have some teachers on a 12 month pay schedule, and a minimal summer staff, so a payroll (I think it's monthly - sha!) and paying enough bills to keep the lights on, and keeping up the monthly reports.  EASY.  'Awesome!' thinks I, 'this may be the perfect job!'  And the pay was in the higher range of what I'd dared hope for, for a non-profit school.

And then he asked the tragic question.  The R question.

Did I mention this is a private Christian School?  A private Christian School in an area with very few members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints?

I sort of gave him the perfect opening.  He had mentioned their need to keep an orderly budget and I asked, "If I were to notice budget discrepancies would I bring them to you?  Or would I need to go to board meetings and such."  Which led him into a story where he'd worked as a young man and he noticed some "budget discrepancies" and he'd reported them to his superior, who was apparently the embezzler.  oops.  And then he'd been invited to share in the bounty, to which he declined and turned the crook in to higher authorities.  And  I said, "What's the worth of a soul?"

And then he said, "So, what religion are you?"

I had wondered if this would come up, beings as it is a Christian school.  Before I admit it briefly crossed my mind I could just say "Christian," I believe in Jesus Christ fully after all.  But I am happy to say I discarded that thought immediately.  I knew that while I consider it an honest if not entirely complete answer, they probably wouldn't.  And I wouldn't want to be in a position where I had to hide who I am all the time anyway.  So if it came up I would tell the whole truth.

And it did.

So, I took a deep breath and said, "I'm LDS - a Mormon."  I added the last just to be clear.

His response was almost comical, I was soooo tempted to laugh.  His eyes got really big.  Then he closed them completely.  Then he looked down at his desk.

Meanwhile, I was trying to reassure him, "I certainly would not be seeking to proselyte in my work situation and I have the utmost respect and comfortability with the tenants of Christianity and I would definitely support that dogma within the school."

By this time he managed to look at me again.  Barely.  I thought about asking if he'd like to feel my head to check for horns just to reassure himself, but I restrained myself.  Barely.

He somewhat feebly managed to mention that as the bookkeeper I wouldn't be required to interact much with the students anyway, perhaps pray with them if they were hurt on the playground and no one else was around. (Which was sort of an odd job requirement to me, my first instinct would be to bandage first, and then pray.  But still, sort of refreshing in today's day and age don't you think?)

And then I managed to ask a more business pertinent question and steer the interview back into safer waters.  And I think I left him at least thinking, 'Dang for a Mormon she was a pretty nice person.' 

Maybe that's the best I can hope for here.

But I suppose I can always hope that Kimberly turned out to be awful and they think maybe if we're all really clear that there will be NO proselyting we could stand to hire a ...a ...a Mormon.  shhhhhhh....