Do the Shuffle

GOOD NEWS!

Well, in a good news/ bad news sort of way, as the news has mostly been bad around my workplace.

The news is: I WILL NOT HAVE TO WORK FULL-TIME IN DECEMBER/ JANUARY/ FEBRUARY as I was scheduled to! I was supposed to cover for my pregnant co-worker, Jordyn, when she went on leave. She had a lot of vacation time racked up, so it would have been about two months. My mom and I were dreading it, and it would have been hardest on Luci. But now, the new bosses are shuffling Jordyn down to Sales, shuffling an accountant who got shuffled to Sales last week up to Catering to take Jordyn's spot, and leaving me where I am (for now). It doesn't really make sense to me, as Jordyn knows Catering well and neither of us knows Sales, nor does the accountant know Catering (so wouldn't it have been easier to shuffle me down there, rather than having EVERYBODY in a new and unfamiliar position??)... But whatev. If they wanted chaos, they have succeeded wildly.

So WOOHOO!

The bad news is that I'm half-expecting to get canned altogether any day, as positions are being slashed left and right. The hospitality industry isn't doing well in this economic climate, obviously, and my Red Lion has undergone some major changes in the two months I've been there.

And it's been an extremely unpleasant place to work lately, as I never feel like I'm doing a good job, and everybody is so stressed out. It still blows my mind that we use such archaic software... and THAT is why everyone is so stressed, I'm convinced. It is so amazingly inefficient. I rarely get my work done in the time I am given, and it's gotten to the point where I feel guilty for leaving on time.

But part of me also thinks that nothing would fix the stress... Maybe these people are stress-addicts and don't function in a positive work environment. They always find SOMETHING to snip at me about (and ohhh do I hate snippiness...), and maybe it makes them feel better. What makes ME feel better is hurrying home in the middle of their day and putting those crazy people and their crazy stress out of my mind. :)

And now, for a complete change of gears, a Robinism. This happened a couple weeks ago, but I forgot to Blog it.

We were sitting at the kitchen table eating dinner, with Luci up on the table in her Bumbo. My dad noticed that her soft spot was pulsating.

"Isn't that interesting?" he said. He put his finger on it to feel it beat.

Robin was also very interested. She tried to feel it, but it took a minute for Luci to sit still enough for her to feel it.

"WEIRD," she said when she finally felt it. "I can feel her heartbeat!"

"Yep," I said.

"Weird," she said again. Then, thoughtfully, "I wonder why her heart is in her head."

:)

Maybe that's what's wrong with my co-workers...

To Danielle (or other XC Skiing Enthusiasts)

My dear old dad has been dying to get me to go cross country skiing with him this winter. We went to the annual Ski Swap (used ski/ gear/ clothing exchange extravaganza... HUGE event here) last weekend, and got me skis, boots and poles.

So I'M set... But the thing is, he wants Luci to come on these adventures. His first idea was to pull her on a sled. When I pointed out that she is never content to sit and go along for the ride (always has to be standing, movin' and shakin'), he first said, "Well, maybe-- and this may sound mean-- maybe we could let her stand up and fall over into the snow, get a face full, and then she would know not to do that." (I was pretty much at a loss for words. I maintain the hope that he was kidding, but we're never really sure.)

His next idea was to strap her down (duct tape, perhaps) into the sled. I remained unconvinced. So we asked somebody at the Ski Swap if there was something safe to use to tow her. There is, we learned. We also learned it's over FOUR HUNDRED dollars.

My plan all along was to throw her in a back pack (the framed kind, not like Adam's school bag or anything) or my Ergo Baby. But is that even safe? What if I fall? Will she freeze if she's just along for the ride?

On the plus side, she looks good as a marshmallow bear.

Advice?

Thanks for the Heads Up...

or should I say, "Nose Up?"

Alternatively titled: "How I am Learning What Kind of Mom I Am"

I joined my lovely friend Jen for lunch at the Olive Garden yesterday afternoon. I hadn't been there in a long time, and hadn't been out to lunch with Luci in a long time (not since her tranquil, immobile days when I could go anywhere with her happily strapped in her car seat), so I wasn't really prepared for the craziness that ensued. Luci was a terror, though a happy terror. She was doing her "crazy scream" (= happy, not mad) most of the time, which is so cute and funny when we are at home, and much less cute and funny in public to other people who JUST WANT TO EAT MINESTRONE IN FREAKIN' PEACE, if you wouldn't mind.

So after a chaotic meal in which my minestrone and breadstick offerings wound up smeared all over Luci's pale pink sweatshirt, and during which we incurred many a dirty look from the ever-so-civilized minestrone-eating crowd mentioned above, we got up to leave. I put Luci on the floor as I gathered our belongings.

"EXCUSE ME," I heard from the general direction on two stylish thirtysomethings.

I ignored.

"EXCUSE ME!" the woman persisted.

I looked up. "Yes?"

"Your baby just ate something off the FLOOR! She put it-- she put something in her MOUTH off the FLOOR."

I looked down at Luci. "Oh," I said, "Yeah, that's just bread. It's okay." I picked her up.

She looked at me in total, unconcealed horror.

Next time, I think we'll do Chuck E. Cheese.

But she's still a cute monster.

A Day in the Life... Friday

4:30am: I awake when Luci lets out a slow, sad, "I'm in pain" cry. She's still half-attached to my boob, but she has pulled off to let out this cry in her sleep. I feel her tummy: little bubbles are rumbling around. I drag her up onto my chest and prop myself up to get her elevated to see if I can get her to burp without waking. She lets out the tiniest bit of air, but nothing else. I wish we could sleep like this, chest to chest, but she keeps shifting her head from side to side, and I know she isn't comfortable. I plop her back down beside me and she latches back on for the remainder of our all-night nurse-fest.

I am officially awake. She is nursing and thrashing, as her tummy pains flare in waves. I could shove her over into the second crib we just bought last week to sidecar to the bed for nights like this. But I don't, on account of two things: (1) I don't believe she'll sleep on her own if I'm not "restraining" her from thrashing herself awake, and (2) Much as I will not admit it after these long nights of poor sleep, I like sleeping with her snuggled up to me.

7:15am: Adam nudges me and tells me it's time to get up. I don't remember falling back asleep, but it can't have been very long ago. It never feels like morning in a room with no windows. I mutter something about never wanting to wake up again, and sleep for another 30 minutes. Adam gets to sleep in an hour today-- his first class was canceled.

Something is wrong with my eyes-- they itched all day yesterday and grew puffier and redder as the day wore on. Maybe it's all this intense staring at a computer screen at work. I am officially entering some sort of hibernation phase; I am exhausted all the time and feel like I could fall asleep at the drop of a hat (except between 4:30 and 6:30 this morning, apparently). My eyes look terrible this morning, but it feels and looks more like allergies than a Pink Eye-type virus, so to work I must go with them. I do my best to normalize them with makeup, but I look as exhausted as I feel. And I need a haircut.

I'm running late when I say goodbye to my mom and Luci and fly out the door with the end of a loaf of applesauce bread and a half cup of coffee. I come INCHES from backing into Adam's car before I realize he's parked behind me in the driveway. Running back in to find his keys and move his car sets me back another few minutes, and I have to run from my blocks-away parking spot into work. I clock in at 9:00am at the dot. I'm impressed.

I come into the office to find my desk covered in stacks of paper, all with little sticky notes giving me instructions on what to do with them. One is even on my chair... Is that really necessary? I put that stack last out of spite. Jordyn, my fellow assistant, is out for the morning to take her glucose tolerance test. She is due on New Year's Eve with a little girl-- sound familiar? :)

I have never understood why everyone in my office is constantly stressed out. When it comes right down to it, this is what I think about what we do: We plan parties. Lighten up, folks. But it's not about parties, it's about money. I never imagined it would be such a sales-oriented environment. So I spend my morning going over Thursday's bills, tracking how much money was made, typing a report on sales prospects at Washington State University, and taking projects as they fly at me from both my managers. I'm so glad I just work half-days. My eyes are burning by the time I go to pump, a ritual I am growing increasingly tired of, but which I can't live without due to the fact that I can barely get Luci to nurse during the day, and I wind up with blocked ducts if I try to skip my morning pump.

1:00pm: It's time to go home, but I still have several loose ends to tie up. Nobody seems to mind if I stay late-- in fact, my managers' boss has asked them to bump me to full-time, but they told her they weren't going to push for it. Thank goodness. I'd probably do it, because I'd feel guilty saying no, but we are all sufficiently exhausted and stressed out as it is. I was hired for part time, and part time is all I want right now. I have agreed to cover for Jordyn full-time while she is on leave for almost two months, and I'm dreading it.

My managers' boss is a mean, blonde, tan lady with an arm full of silver bracelets that jangle around like a cow bell you can hear from a mile away. She literally makes people cry, and she loves pointing out others' mistakes. She's competitive to the core, which is why she is in charge of both sales and catering. Thankfully, my managers are not mean, but they are under a ton of pressure all the time. Behind closed doors, they both say, "There's more to life than this place." It's nice to know that's how they really feel, especially when they are yelling at Jordyn and me for forgetting to order sales folders or call X client or Y client. I try not to let it get to me, but it's going to be rough when Jordyn goes on leave and I'm the only one to blame.

2:00pm: I'm finally home. Luci is playing happily in the living room with my mom and Robin. "Guess who only had a 30 minute nap today..." is the first thing out of my mom's mouth. She always gives me the daily report: what Luci ate, how long she slept, and whether she pooped. She loves both my mom and Robin, and I feel so lucky to leave her in such good hands.

A turkey sandwich and Earl Grey are just what my cold, tired body need. Luci appears to be overtired and melting down, so I finish my lunch in a hurry and take her downstairs. I am depressed to report that my glider chair has lost its magic-- I haven't gotten her to sleep in the chair for over a week now. I try anyway, but she is doing horrific things to my nipple as she restlessly squirms around in my lap. Frustrated, I take her into our room, shut off the light, and nurse her down in our bed. I wasn't planning on a nap today, but it's not hard to send me back into hibernation. We sleep about an hour, though I feel like I could keep going for hours and hours. This time of year kills me, as temperatures drop and light dwindle.

After I manage to drag myself out of bed, we spend some time lounging upstairs with my dad. I'm feeling lazy, but I know I'll feel better if I get some sort of exercise. I bundle Luci up in the fuzzy bear suit that was way too big for her the last time I can remember it being cold enough for it. Now I am surprised to find that she has just about outgrown it-- it stretches tight when she straightens her legs.

My dad comes along on our walk, and we trek through the woods as Luci rides belly-to-belly with me in the Ergo carrier. She is in awe the minute we step outside-- she loves the change in temperature, air, sounds, smells and sights. Her eyes are wide and she lets out a periodic "Ooh!" as she looks at trees and hears birds. By the end of the walk, she has discovered a new favorite way to ride so that she can stare up at the sky through the trees:

Coming back into the house feels like a blast of heat to our cold cheeks and noses. Spaghetti is in the works, and I manage to feed Luci her dinner and get her bathed before grown-up food is on the table. Spaghetti is one of my current favorite things to eat, not only because it's delicious, but because I can entertain Luci for quite a while if I give her a noodle or two, and I'm able to eat in relative peace. We still don't have a high chair, as the Bumbo plus tray is still working perfectly for that function without taking up any extra space.

That bib was mine when I was a babe. :)

Luci starts another meltdown before I've finished eating, but I'm doubtful that she's going to go down easy. It take her down to the chair again, and again, it ends in horrific nipple-torturing antics. I try just rocking her for about 10 minutes, and she alternates between monkeying around and snuggling into my chest. The snuggles are heavenly, but it's frustrating to watch her fight sleep as usual. When she starts whining to get down, I give up and take her back upstairs. My mom looks at me sympathetically, and takes Luci back down to see if she can get her settled. I give them about 10 minutes, then go down. She's still up, whimpering and wiggling in my mom's lap as she rocks Luci.

What used to be the magic chair.

I take her and try nursing again, and to my delight, this one's a go. She's out in minutes, but I give her a few extra minutes to flutter-suck to make sure she's really asleep.

As I type this, she is still sleeping in her crib, and my eyes are burning. I can't believe I'm this tired at 9pm even after having had a nap today. Adam should be off in 10 or 15 minutes, and I will jump out of my chair to run and meet him when he walks in the door. His schedule is killer these days, and he's not the only one who suffers for it. I'm taking it a little harder than I thought I would, but I never feel good when I know he is stressed, and I miss him all the time. Our bank account is in much better shape these days, but sometimes I wonder if it's worth all the stress. He took up smoking again this week, and not just occasionally. He went from "I quit" to full-blown addiction in a matter of days. I don't like it, but he knows that, and it isn't worth fighting about. I have never understood how smoking factors into the stress-- doesn't it just add more stress?? Now on top of everything else on his plate, he has those nagging urges that make him antsy all the time. I'm trying my best not to get on his case about it, but I not-so-secretly can't wait until he quits again. :(

I'm off to wash off the makeup I've already smudged and rubbed all over my itchy eyes a thousand times today. And then I'll be running up to greet Smoky the Bear with a big hug, and probably the requisite foot and/ or back rub he gets out of me most days. :)

Is it really Friday? I don't know where the time goes these days.