Boo Hoo Flu

Last night, during the President's news conference, there appeared a little news scroll at the bottom of our screen that alerted us that one of our local elementary schools would be closed for a week due to the flu. That annoyed me, but my kids aren't in that particular school, so it didn't get under my skin. Then, this morning, via emails from coaches, we learned that all baseball and lacrosse activities are cancelled for 7 days. That annoys me. And, there will be no Little League involvement in our town May Day parade on Saturday. That's about 500 fewer marchers in the parade. That saddens me.
Apparently, there are two cases of the flu in town. I am amazed at how many people have kept their kids out of the schools that are open today. My kids went to school. Our bus stop, which is often referred to as "bus stop utopia" is usually crowded with 7 school kids plus parents and siblings. Parents sip hot coffee and get in their morning chit-chat while all the kids scooter about the driveway, or play a pick up game of basketball, or climb on snowbanks (Utopia). Today, it was just Grace and I and our nextdoor neighbor and her one son. Very quiet. All the other kids were at home. And when the bus pullled up, it was almost completely empty. Once the two kids from our stop got on, I counted 5 kids total on the bus. Usually, the bus has to pause at our stop for quite a while so that all the kids can find a seat because it's so crowded.
I just don't buy into this kind of panic. I think it's too much. A week of school is a lot to make up. I'm sure I'll get a call today that the other schools are closing too. And what's truly odd about the school closing is this: the kids that go to the school that's closed, and the kids that go to Grace's school are bussed together every day, and they share afterschool activities every day too. So it just seems that the decision to close the ONE school and not the other was a hasty decision made out of panic - not rational or well thought-out.
As Grace was sitting at the table this morning eating her toast, she saw two news trucks go by: channel 13 and ESPN. For now, I just wait for the call that the other schools are also closed for a week, and figure out how to manage that time off. With our weekend suddenly completely clear (no sports at all), I can focus on Grace's birthday tomorrow. A ray of light in which to stand.

It's Costume Time Again

With October well under way, my dining room has been filled with the churning sound of my 15 year old little Singer. After placing an ad on Craigslist for custom Halloween costumes, I've been serving my time creating, cutting, stitching and sighing.

I had two orders for custom costumes, and created two Little Red Riding Hood outfits of my own design, which are listed for sale in my Etsy store. I am also creating a sailor costume for Grace and Jake and I are going to work together on his scarecrow outfit. He plans to stand in the yard, tied to a post, and scare all the little kids. What can I do?

I have finished the first custom order: Katara the Airbender from Nickelodeon's Avatar series. This costume includes four pieces: pants, robe, belt and parka. It's for a 9 year old girl in Arizona. I am really pleased with it now that it's done. I'm anxious to hear how my customer likes it!

Grace poses for you here, displaying my handiwork.

The Little Red Riding Hoods, or "Little Reds" as we affectionately call them at home, have not sold yet, but I'm still hopeful. This lousy economy is killing me. If only the crash could have waited until after I'd sold my costumes! Anyway, here is Little Red, as modeled by the daughter of a friend.

I have also just listed the Sash Skirt from last year in my Etsy store - taking custom orders. I love these skirts and hope to make several of them this fall. I think a nice Thanksgiving one would be great. I wonder if I'll be able to find the time for that....

Potato Peeler

So this woman comes in this morning to talk about a custom piece for her tv, etc. She’s a grandma and has her 1 year old grandson with her. He’s carrying a potato peeler. No cover on the blade. He’s just walking around with it. She’s talking to me and not paying any attention to him. I can barely keep myself focused on the furniture conversation because I’m so alert to the fact that this kid keeps grabbing the peeler by the blade as he changes hands, and several times almost puts it in his mouth. He still had it in his hand when they left. She must have thought it was a good toy for a one-year old.
I should have said something. You know? It was one of those moments when one should SAY something, even though it’s not really your place to do so. But, as they left I could just see her putting him in his car seat in the backseat, with the potato peeler in hand…free to play with it, chew on it…
Oh man.Should I have said something? What would you have done?

The Latest Definition

stress \ ‘stres \ n [ME stresse stress, distress, fr. destresse – more at DISTRESS]
…c: a state resulting from a stress; esp: one of bodily or mental tension resulting from factors that tend to alter an existent equilibrium
(Webster’s Seventh New Collegiate Dictionary, G. & C. Merriam Company, Springfield, MA. 1972)

stress \ ‘stres \ pronounced: ang zi ettee cup oll’d with ten shun
…a: oh my god you have so much homework you might have to miss football and when you get home you are going to have to study for your test tomorrow why didn’t you bring your social studies book home before tonight and what exactly does the teacher want for these two paragraphs and when is your book report due and what is your sister doing where is she anyway did she get off the bus after school? oh I see her across the street at the neighbors keep reading you are not even close to done I have to make dinner oh god there is no milk what will I make now gotta come up with something I have no idea how Christopher Columbus learned to sail read your book and find out oh I think I can make macaroni and cheese your father is coming home late you have to be at practice in 15 minutes hurry up slow down you cannot possibly comprehend anything if you read that fast the cat is outside can you let her in nevermind I will do it you do your math here comes your sister with her friend no your friend cannot eat dinner at our house I don’t have any food as it is football practice has already started you’re late are you done? Crap I let the noodles cook too long oh shit we got another bill in the mail and five more catalogs that we don’t need now go up and change your clothes no she can’t have dinner here I already said that is your homework done? I have to bring your brother to practice we are already late no she can’t come with us please walk her home but hurry because we are late already I will have to finish dinner when I get home gotta switch the laundry now yes coach I know he is late again I am sorry but he has to get his homework done before football he is too tired when he gets home to get it done shit we forgot his helmet I will go home and get it no Grace you cannot stay here you have to come with me to get your homework done no I cannot swing you no I cannot pick you up you weigh as much as me we have to stop and get milk eat fast because we have to pick up your brother at practice Daddy will be home in an hour eat fast slow down you are eating like a pig close your mouth when you chew hurry up we have to go Jake eat up you have to study for your test now Hi honey how was your day mine sucked too sorry to hear that Jake are you done with dinner yet? Get out your book and study he has to study for a test no he couldn’t get it done before practice he had too many other things to do we had macaroni and cheese for dinner help yourself I have to switch the laundry god I gotta pee but there’s really no time Grace go upstairs and read for 15 minutes yes you can read to me AJ help Jake study I’m going up to read with Grace gotta pee can do that upstairs I really don’t care which book you read just pick one and start reading I am listening yes he has to study chapter three yes all of it yes the test is tomorrow I’m sorry honey I had to talk to Daddy for a second go ahead and keep reading Peanut I cannot feed you right now I’ll be down in a minute that’s good reading sweetpea I have to go down and help Jake again it’s almost 9 o’clock he really should get to bed Grace it’s bedtime please brush your teeth yes you already told me you had recorder practice today now go brush your teeth I don’t care what pajamas you choose no you choose them and get them on and brush your teeth Jake really has to be done now please send him upstairs oh shit I never went pee Jake brush your teeth oh and strip your bed I want to wash the sheets you brush I’ll make the bed Grace please get in bed I can’t come down just yet honey I’m still putting the kids to bed I’ll have to miss the Bionic Woman tonight but I’ll be down in time for Life Grace are you in bed? Jake your bed is made now finish up your teeth you have to brush longer than that they can’t even possibly be clean come on now get to bed it’s late yes I’ll ask Daddy to kiss you goodnight no I can’t snuggle with you right now I have to switch the laundry and watch Life no we can’t go to Coffee Gourmet tomorrow please go to sleep yes I’ll give you a quick backscratch there now goodnight and get some sleep tomorrow will be a busy day.

Love the Skin You're In.

Today I’m seeing spots. That’s what I call it when my female cycle implants little jagged shards into my area of vision. Imagine that my area of vision is a piece of glass and there’s one little tiny part that’s shattered and the shattered part is floating across my left eye, ever so slowly, from left to right, making it incredibly difficult to do many things. Thankfully it only impairs my ability to do things that aren’t useful – like reading and writing.

This will continue for about 30 minutes. It’s one of the gifts that I receive 12 times a year, among other gifts that arrive at different times during the month – a part of my own book-of-the-month-club from Hell. The eye thing is the only one that doesn’t affect all the other humans within a 10 mile radius of where I’m standing. Except that if you’re standing directly on my left, I can’t see you right now. In a few minutes, if you stand in front of me, I won’t be able to see you there, but the person on my left will be visible again. It’s fun. Sorta like peekaboo only no one’s smiling.

Over the next few weeks the other books in my subscription to Hell will arrive:
The Mystery of the Lumpy Cranium that is Tender to the Touch
Chronicles of Shooting Pain in My Hips – Why I Can’t Stand Up from a Sitting Position
You-Need-a-MUCH-Bigger-Bra-Than-That
Diary of the Woman Who Screamed “Don’t Touch my Boobs They’re KILLING Me!”.
Oh, and let’s not forgot the one that really rocks the house every month:
Why I Hate the World and Everyone and Everything in it for Four Straight Days: concensus on why women’s patience and good nature disappear from the Good Earth.
That one is my family’s favorite of all. It’s good storytime reading with the kids.


Heron on the river.
6:15 am Sunday


Heron taking flight.

cov·et [kuhv-it]: to wish for, esp. eagerly

I have big plans for this blog. I really do. Unfortunately, I can't move ahead with my plans until I get a digital camera (that's right - I don't own one) and we get a computer at home (right again - no computer at home). Just so you don't think we're cavepeople (as you know we don't have a cell phone either) let me explain. I have always had a very nice camera. I've been taking pictures since Junior High with great enthusiasm, very nice equipment and generally a pretty good photographic eye. I still have a great camera: Nikon N2000 from the 90's that's completely manual (shutter speed, light meter and focus)- and I love it. And I still use it a lot. But, just as I think cell phones are evil, I've thought, until recently, that digital phones must certainly harbor satanic qualities too. After all, why on earth does everyone need their pictures so fast? And how can you stand not having good prints?
Now that I have this blog, it's all clear. Cell phones are evil, but digitial cameras are a necessity. Like milk.
We had a computer at home until this time last year when we put it up in the attic to do some renovations. It was in trouble - too many games on it, wicked wicked slow, in desperate need of a good hard-drive cleaning and purging. So, it went to AJ's office at one point where it was supposed to have been "bathed" of it's inadequacies and then returned home. It never made it back. At some point during it's spa treatment, AJ decided that it was no good (but it is good) and now refuses to bring it home. I beg and plead and threaten to remove his testicals in the night, but to no avail. He's coveting a new, better, souped up machine - the Apple of his eye. Of course, we can't afford it, so we are left with no computer and random threats at AJ's manhood. (I can't act on those threats now can I? What kind of life would that leave me?).
So, in the last 6 weeks or so there have been tons of things that I would have loved to have entered in this blog. Things to let you see, that I couldn't because I didn't have an instant download ability for images, and our scanner isn't hooked up to anything but air so I can't scan the prints from my Nikon. All those lovely prints.
Here are a few of the things you've missed:

Jake took some great photos with my Nikon. No joke. They're good for a 10 year old who had a 60-second lesson on how to focus, set speed and light and find a good shot.

Kids running across the finish line at this summer's track meets.

The very cool detail of a log that's sitting in our wood pile at home.

My finger after I smashed it with a hammer.

Pictures from my day in Boston with Grace.

A beautiful picture of my Grandmother, who died 10 years ago this past Wednesday. I was really looking forward to this entry; a tribute to a really interesting and important woman. I was hoping it would supercede my little Diana entry, but was dissapointed not to have been able to get the photo online. Without the photo, the rest of the entry just seemed to fizzle.

Oh the things you're missing.

So, I'm asking the faeries for a new digital camera. I have it all picked out. It's at Best Buy so I'm hoping for gift cards.
My birthday is one week from today.

Eye Contact

Eventually, this blog will be filled more with current stories from our daily lives (oh how very exciting) and less of this faux-philosophical brain draining crap. But, for now, there are things I've been meaning to say and you're the only ones listening.
I have neighbors who are actively teaching thier little girl to make eye contact when saying, "Thank you" or "Please" or in any other manner speaking to someone. I guess it unnerves them that she isn't comfortable looking the rest of us in the eye as we tower over her. Actually, my understanding is that she doesn't even look them in the eye when speaking much of the time. I get it. I understand the need for the lesson. It's part of learning your manners, all part of the p's and q's. It's a lesson in self confidence and self importance. All extremely important lessons - all right on the top of my parenting list. So I get it.
It's not 'why the lesson?' that causes me to pause, but rather, 'why the lack of eye contact?' The little girl that I speak of is an awesome little girl; very cute, very polite, very engaged and often has very funny things to say. So I enjoy listening to her when she speaks. I find that she usually does look at me when she speaks - the aversion comes in the formalities only it seems. Like I said, in the p's and q's.
My own daughter has a similar aversion, which we too are working to correct. She is very shy about ordering at a restaurant. She also is terrified to call anyone on the phone - anyone other than myself that is. She's more than willing to call me at work to complain that her brother won't let her watch her favorite television program, or that he's bothering her and her friends outside. No problem there. When asked to call up a friend though to see if they can come play, she just shrinks to the size of a tiddlywink and huddles in the corner holding up the phone with an expression on her face that clearly threatens "if I really have to make this call I will implode and you will forever feel the weight of my dissapearance on your mothering shoulders."
I have to say, I don't worry much about the shyness on the phone. I can remember the first time I realized I was "good" at talking on the phone to strangers - or rather the first time I learned how to talk on the phone to strangers. It was when I was in High School and as the Vice President of my class I had to organize our prom and call on several hotels and convention centers to find a suitable location. After the first call - a magnificent blunder in which the woman on the other end had clearly experience this type of call before and was very good at leading me through - I practiced outloud what I was going to say in the next few calls, and worked on my tone of voice, etc. After that moment, I've always been comfortable making calls. But I was in high school and Grace is only 8. She hasn't made many calls and of course she has to practice. Hell, if today's teenagers are any indication, she'll be spending MOST of her time on the phone for the rest of her life: while doing her hair, walking through the grocery store, driving her car, riding her bike, eating her meals...and who knows, maybe there will be waterproof phones in a few years so she'll be able to do the two things girls do best and do them together - take long showers and talk on the phone. No, she'll have plenty of practice talking on the phone. No worries there.
But that in itself makes me wonder about the eye contact thing. Is it me, or are there fewer instances in our daily lives where we actually talk to people one on one? Where we have opportunity for eye contact. Yes, it's definitely a truth of our society. We go to the drive-thru for our coffee, eliminating those coffee shop relationships with regulars and counter people. (Well, actually, I visit a coffee shop almost every day because I love those very relationships - but most people I know don't want to take the time to park, get out of their car, walk 10 steps, and get back to their car. Or, they don't want to be bothered with having to deal with people that early in the morning.) We shop more online, avoiding human contact in the stores. We have toll passes so we don't have to look at the toll collectors on the highway. We have drive thru pharmacies, grocery stores that deliver, drycleaners that bring our clothes to work. And, because the whole world is on the phone all the time, even when there is opportunity for eye contact, I find many people are too wrapped up in their omni-important conversations to even look up. It's a shame. It's pathetic if you ask me. I am a cell phone snob - I don't own one and I look at the rest of you as you wander through your day to day with that piece of hardware attached to your ear and I can't help wondering when you let that brain of yours rest. Ever? Do you sleep with it next to your pillow? Do you take a shit with it too? Have any of you ever been taking a shit while talking on the phone with me? Probably.
So with so little real-world opportunity to hone the skills of one on one communication, which includes eye contact, it's no wonder kids are uncomfortable with it. No wonder they don't want to look up at the waitress and say outloud, "Could I please have an order of homefries with melted cheese, a hot chocolate with whipped cream and sprinkles and a chocolate chip pancake?"
We'll discuss diets later.

In Memorium

BRIAN BRADY
So, it's Thursday, August 2nd and I'm sitting at my desk at work, putting together a new order to enter when the phone rings. I answer with my usual professional greeting. It's my dad. Now, understand that my dad doesn't call much. There's no real reason for that except that he's not a talkative guy; not one prone to idle chit chat. He calls when he has a reason. In the rare instance that he calls "just to check in", I'm usually so excited and flattered by the call that I lose control of my chatterbox, talk his ear off and fairly quickly sense that tone in his voice that says, "okay, so THIS is why I don't call 'just to check in'". So, I'm at work and he calls. I'm surprised to hear his voice because he just called a few days ago to discuss our summer visit and one call is unusual - two in one week is unheard of.
"Watcha up to?" It just comes out of my mouth all casual like that. Had I known what was coming, I would have checked the casual tone at the door.
"I have some bad news." Whenever he calls and says "I have some bad news," someone's just died. It's never that my grade school is being torn down and replaced with overpriced condos, or that my favorite hometown store burned to the ground, or that my childhood home was rented out to a fanatical cult and my bedroom is being used for weekly sacrifices. All of those would be worthy of such an introductory statement in a rare phone call, but no. So I wait through the pause...
"Brian Brady died yesterday."
"What? That's not possible...what...I mean...how? How can that be? HOW?"
And then he tells me.
Brian Brady. A dear dear family friend for many years; who lived down the street when I was a teenager; let me swim in his pool all the time.
Brian Brady and his wife Barbara: two of the funniest people ever. And, the only couple that managed, when my parents divorced, to stay close friends with my mother and father equally. My mother and my best friend and I stayed with Brian and Barbara over the weekend of my bridal shower.
Brian Brady. One of my father's very best friends. They get together regularly, frequently. They gather with 2 or 3 other friends on Sunday mornings, or late at night (depending on the time of the race) and watch Formula 1 races and eat donuts and danishes or drink like teenagers.
Brian Brady. The last person I would have expected to be the reaon for an "I have some bad news" call. So vibrant - really the epitome of life itself.
All this runs through my mind in a split second. Then Dad answers the question I've already forgotten I'd asked. How.
"I guess he had a heart attack."
"What? Brian? But that makes no sense..."
And he tells me all he knows. And as he tells it, his voice cracks once. Any daughter can tell you that fathers voices just don't crack. And when it DOES happen, we daughters feel an instant surge of panic. Because for a fleeting moment we are reminded that he is not Zeus, even though we live our daily lives under the certainty that he is just that. This is the fifth time I've heard his voice crack. 1. when he was telling me that he had moved out of the house - for good. 2. when he called to tell me that my grandfather had died rather unexpectedly 3. when he called to tell me that my grandmother had died very unexpectedly 4. when he called to tell me that his very best friend had cancer and 5. this call.
Brian was home alone. He called 911 and was, I guess, able to say he needed help. But by the time the ambulance arrived, he had died. They took him to the hospital where he was pronounced DOA. Barbara was out of town for the afternoon, making her daily trip to see her mother (another fabulous person)in a nursing home an hour or so away. She had no idea what had happened at home. Brian died sometime just after 3pm. The police searched for a way to contact Barbara, but no one knew how to reach her. So they just waited, checking in at the house periodically. One of the calls the police made to locate Barbara was to Brian's insurance agent, one of the Formula 1 friends, who in turn told my dad - they happened to be at the same party that afternoon.
Barbara arrived home a little after 5pm to find her home a bit disheveled. She thought perhaps there had been a home invasion. Then she saw Brian's wallet and glasses and thought he must just be in the backyard. It was then that the police arrived, bearing the news.
Brian and Barbara Brady. Not only two of the most vibrant and engaged people ever, but certainly the most perfectly in-love couple I have ever met. They were truly one together, not two seperate souls. What that news must have done to her...I can't even imagine.
So I say to Barbara this: "till death do us part" is a load of bull. He could never leave you and he will always walk beside you. You are in my thoughts and in my heart. We will remember Brian always, smiling, laughing and with eyes sparkling.


Brian and Barbara at my wedding, July 1, 1995

Look out, I'm watching...

Okay, so today I have a question..
When there is a sidewalk on one side of the street, and not on the other, why do people always walk on the side without the sidewalk, and therefore IN THE ROAD?!!

A pet peeve...
Please please please, use your blinker when you're going to turn!!! Otherwise, I might just have to ram my car up your cars asshole and drive you into the ditch.

Oh, and do you know what "road kill" is? According to a certain 8 year old I know, it's when you stop the car, jump out and shoot someone. (That's what happens when you don't use your blinker in Massachusetts - because all drivers are crazy there.)

Beating on...

My husband is at the cardiology center this morning, having a stress test on his heart. He's only 37. Lately he's had chest pains and bouts of dizziness and fatigue. The doctor has already discovered that he has an irregular heartbeat - it skips every third beat - but doesn't seem overly concerned with that. They did an ultrasound three weeks ago and found that, yes, he had an irregular heartbeat - skips every third beat - gee thanks. He's stopped drinking caffeine completely (I am amazed at how easily he seems to have done this) and is doing his best to reduce stress. Still, the chest pains and other symptoms persist. Again, the doctor doesn't seemed concerned enough for me. I want him to call every other day and just ask AJ how he's feeling. I want him to require AJ to take notes every day and outline his symptoms. I want him to act worried for AJ. But, no. I guess this should calm me down. If the doctor isn't freaking out, why should I? Well, you try not freaking out when your very young husband who exercises and eats well and doesn't smoke or drink is literally having heart palpitations. You try feeling all calm when at night he lies in bed and groans loudly once in a while, quickly putting his hand on his chest. Or how about when he says he can't physically get up out of bed because he's too fatigued and dizzy and his eyes are riddled with worry? How do you stay calm then?
I'll keep you posted.

Summer Transportation

Getting around in the summer is very different than in any other season, especially where I live. There are oodles of tourists here and they clog up all the major roads and even the minor ones. They make my 8 minute commute last as long as 20 minutes sometimes (violins please). It's so nice to just walk in the summer, but we can't always do that because there isn't usually time, and often we have too far to go. Kids have to be places, adults have to be other places and everyone has to be on time. Summer transportation dilemmas include which vehicle, what time, who's driving, which route and just plain old patience. Most of those issues are the same all year 'round, but in the summer I notice it more - because I don't want a roof over my head when I drive, and I want my summer driving to be fun.
My kids go to a summer day camp every year. They have to be there 1/2 hour before I have to be at work - so the timing is fine. Unfortunately, they have to stay there until I get out of work at 5:00 or sometimes even 5:30. Long day for kids - for anyone if you're out in the sun all day. I'd really like to allow them to get out of camp earlier, like most of the kids do, but I can't - I work and so does my husband. In a couple of years they will be able to be at home on their own, but not just yet. My son is probably old enough to ride his bike to camp now, but that leaves my daughter out. And, if he rides to camp, does he get to leave earlier and ride home to be alone for a couple of hours? Would he be responsible enough to call me every afternoon when he gets home to let me know he's there and he made it home okay?
This year, I'm carpooling the kids with another little girl who goes to camp too. She'll arrive at my house at 7:30 each morning and her mother will pick up all three kids and drive them home each day. My son doesn't want to go to her house every single day - there aren't any boys for him to play with there. Should she just drop him off at home? It's only an hour before I get home. Should she just drop both of them off?
So, I drive my little car to work every day. It's a small car and gets pretty good gas mileage, and I only drive 4 miles each way. Still, gas is so expensive now and I would love to be able to use less of it, and to create less pollution - you know, do my small part. My neighbor just got a new scooter. It's very cool. She drives it all over town each day. It holds 2 gallons of gas, but it gets something like 70 miles to the gallon. How cool is that? My husband and I have been contemplating getting one of these for me. I could take it to work each day and back. I don't really carry much to work or run a lot of errands while I'm at work. But, I do bring the kids to and from camp all summer long. So, back to that. I could bring them to camp, go home and get my scooter and go to work. But that seems like a waste of time and energy, doesn't it? If my son rode his bike, I could take my daughter to camp on the scooter. I could do that at least a couple of days each week - that would be something.
The other day, my husband offered that I should ride my bike to work. I had been complaining that I've been so lazy about exercising lately. I could do that up until camp starts, while the kids are still taking the bus in the morning. There are only 7 people where I work, and currently three of them are riding their bikes to work every day it doesn't rain. They all live much further away than I do. So, it seems like a good idea. It's only about 4 miles. But, then I thought about my bike. It's so matronly, so...LLBean motherly. They all have fast looking 10 speeds, and special shoes and stuff. I would be wearing bike riding/work clothes (whatever that might be) and regular old sneakers. I'm just not sure I'm cool enough to ride my bike to work. And my bike would look really silly leaning against the building with all of their cool bikes.
I'd love an old Volkswagen beetle; yellow convertible please. That would make driving anywhere in the summer tons of fun. I'd keep it filled with cold lemonade and beach towels.

Feeling like the big loser...

Do you make a big deal out of birthdays at work? Do you have big parties? One for each birthday? One every week or month? We do, make a big deal that is. We don't have a whole lot of employees, so it's easy to make a big deal out of each birthday. Our tradition is to get an ice cream cake from Dairy Queen and all sit down together at 3pm and eat like pigs. We all know it's gross, but we just love that electric blue and pink icing and the cookie and fudge that's in the middle. But, sometimes we jump off the bridge of safety and go all wild and get a wonderful fruit pie, or something more personal and dramatic.
We also joke all the time that there are months in which we don't have birthdays to celebrate and that any new people we hire must have their birthday in one of those months. Or, they at least need to be willing to pretend they do.
Well, several months ago we were lucky enough to hire a person to fill the vacant birthday month of March. We even told her that it was half the reason we hired her (that's when we discovered she has a sense of humor much like our own). I think it's also important to note here that this new employee is the first ever female hired to work in our workshop. Until she came aboard, the only females occupied the offices, not the shop floor where the real work is done. So, she was a monumental hire for more reasons than one. And we've loved having her here.
So, fast-forward to today. It's 4:15. Everyone goes home at 5:00. I'm spacing out at my computer and my gaze is blindly fixed on the birthday calendar on the wall. See, it's my job to keep track of the birthdays and remember to order the cake, buy the card, etc.
My blind stare begins to flash wildly: MARCH 20 MARCH 20 MARCH 20.
As I come back to life I realize what I'm reading. Our new employee's birthday is today. Oh, I am SUCH A HUGE LOSER. I've missed it. No cake. No card. I can't very well just walk out there now and say, "Oh, happy birthday, sorry we forgot you...I know it's your first birthday with us and all, and you're our first female in the shop and all, very important, but well, we all forgot." Ugh. LOSER LOSER LOSER.
I walked into my boss' office to tell him the bad news, "We totally blew it, " I said.
He turned in his chair to face me. A grimace stole over his face. I sat down, straight back, hands in my lap.
"We forgot Liz's birthday." (her name isn't really Liz - but I like that name - I said her real name)
"Oh, phew. I thought it was something really terrible. I thought there was a misspelling on those new postcards, or you had just found a stack that didn't get mailed, or they all got lost in the mail, or something." He paused in thought. Looked at the clock. 4:20.
"What do we do? It's too late to do anything now," I whine.
He decides we should not make a big issue out of it today and bring in a nice pie tomorrow morning and have it at our 9am break. Make a big splash early in the day tomorrow.
Then he adds very comfortably, "We can redeem ourselves tomorrow. Or, YOU can redeem yourself tomorrow."
MAN, I SUCK.