You Should Get a MBA (Masters of Business Administration)

You're a self starter with a drive for success. You'd make a great entrepreneur.

Acquired from Kris.

Prior to living in Utah for five years with the military, the only time I had ever been exposed to a front-door solicitation by a person representing any type of church was just after we'd moved to south Texas when I was still in High School.

It was 8:30 in the morning.

They were very persistent.

They rang the doorbell three times.

They knocked loudly on the door.

I thought it was a neighbor in trouble.

Even though I had worked until late at night at Hardee's, I went to the door.

And there...

stood...

Two church ladies.

On a Saturday morning.

I....was mad.

Not only because it was early and they had made sure to wake up whomever was in the house, but also because even at that young age I thought it was just plain wrong to show up at someone's door and try and make them question their belief system.

Wrong....wrong....wrong.

Now, I know they'd been told by their church that this was their mission and all they were trying to do was "save" people. I don't think they were trying to be mean or that anything nefarious was going on.

But....I think if someone was of the mindset to question their beliefs then they would voluntarily look for answers. Missionaries don't have to chase them down, for crying out loud!!

So anyway...prior to moving to Utah in my late 20's that was the one and only time someone tried to "save" me from the Catholic church.

Then we moved into a hard-core Mormon neighborhood filled with churches on every other corner. They must have gotten our address from the city and compared it with church lists and found that we had not converted to "The One True Religion". Needless to say every missionary in the area made visits to the house. I told each and every one of them to please take me off the master list and to not come back and that I was Catholic. But they were relentless. I took to not answering the door unless I was expecting a guest. Seriously, it was at least twice a month, and at very inconvenient times these people would come to the door.

On the upside....every house around us kept two years worth of food storage in preparation for the end of the world, so I knew we would be covered there since they were, after all, very kind, giving people. I just didn't happen to agree with their religion.

So here a few days ago a couple young missionaries (boys this time) came to the door. I told them that I was Catholic (as I do) and that I had lived in Utah so I knew what they were up to. Of course, then they asked me where, etc. and we had a short chat. Then they asked me what religion everyone else in the neighborhood was and I told them they were mostly Catholic, Methodist, and non-denominational and that as far as I knew they were all very devout so I didn't think they had any chance of converting anyone. Then of course they asked me if I'd read their "book". I told them no and that I really didn't have any interest in reading it. They thanked me politely and left.

Then a day after that I was on the phone with my mom up in Wisconsin...and guess what? Two missionaries came to her door!! They are everywhere!

But you know what happened before that? When we were in Dublin, Ireland in October there was a Mormon missionary who had strategically placed himself in front of a bridge sign I wanted to take a picture of. Of course, he went right into the banter, asking us where we were from, etc. Again I told him I was Catholic, I had lived in Utah, I knew what his gig was, and that all I really wanted to do was take a picture of the bridge sign. He kind of chuckled and graciously stepped aside. Smart move.

If you have been a missionary or are currently a missionary I do apologize if I have offended you. I know either you have been told you were/are doing the right thing or actually truly believe that. I don't fault you for that. But I do fault the whole premise that just because someone has different beliefs than you they need to be somehow "saved" from themselves.

I believe that if you live your life in a moral way, raise your kids to contribute positively to society, and treat others the way you would like to be treated, then it does not matter what or whom you believe in as long as you believe in something.

To sit in judgment of others and try and lead them to believe they will not be let into whatever your idea of heaven is is just plain wrong. At least...that's what I think.

In closing, I will say that missionaries and church charity workers do a lot of good in the community and they have helped many people do better for themselves in life. However...that help should not come at the price of their personal beliefs.

I won't tell you his name or where he lives. But I just wanted to let you all know how proud I am of my oldest nephew. He just received a nomination to West Point, and will kick off his career in the army when he begins classes this summer.

I am so very proud of the choice he has made. He is one determined individual, and I know that he will make an excellent officer who will nobly lead his men in performing their duties as they defend our country and our freedom.

Hoo-ah!!

Much to Tommy's chagrin, I dragged myself back to the gym today after a two week hiatus resulting from travel and more than one illness.

Some might say that I am a glutton for punishment, and in this case I just might have to agree with them. Although....I think I did pretty well considering. After 30 minutes on the cross-training elliptical stairs (the ones with the arm thingees) I had burned 352 calories and climbed three miles.

I then walked around the track a couple times, chest rattling and lungs wheezing...don't worry, I wasn't dizzy, just a little short of breath.....I began 15 minutes of weights (today was chest and back day). In deference to my incapacitated state, I backed off one level on weights and did sets of 15 instead of 12. That seemed to work pretty well.

Then I rounded out the workout with burning 30 more calories on the treadmill to get rid of the lactic acid build-up from the minimal weight training.

But I have to say...even though it was difficult....I'm glad I went. Hopefully it won't cause any setbacks, and I did manage to do the whole 30 minutes of cardio without coughing once so that was good.

Hopefully I will be able to drag myself back to the gym for the next four days, achieving increased levels of intensity each time. Wish me luck!

Wow. 19. That's a really, really long time. Not much longer and we'll have been married longer than how old I was when we took vows (21 but who's counting).

People always ask me how we've made it this long. And I have to be honest...sometimes separation is good. In our case, it's been many separations, some of them for many months. One of them for more than 12 months with a couple short visits thrown in.

But for me, when you have those separations it helps remind you what you like/miss about that person and in a lot of ways keeps the relationship fresh.

Enough about that.

Guess where we went tonight? Abuelo's!. The food there is SO damn good and very reasonable. I was given the choice of going out wherever I wanted, but really tonight this was the only choice for me. Low-key atmosphere (not loud like a lot of those steakhouses), excellent food, and fabulous dessert. They make a mean margarita too.

Excuse me while I go loll in my Mexican food coma. I'm sure Mr. Average and I will find some quiet time later tonight after we make Scytheboy go to bed. He's got school tomorrow. Yeah! The break's over!

I still keep thinking...wow...19 years. That's like forever, isn't it? I mean, seriously....

I realized tonight while Scytheboy was mixing me a rum and coke that there are some major benefits to becoming a parent. Oh, of course there's all that warm fuzzy loveliness associated with bringing a child into the world and watching them grow and learn new things and love you unconditionally.

However....

There are some other benefits to parenthood that are not discovered until the child reaches double-digits in the age category. These are (in no particular order):

1. Decreased house work - as they grow, you can teach the children to do various house chores ranging from picking up their own toys to loading the dishwasher to vacuuming the rug.

2. Decreased laundry chores - after the age of 10, you can teach a child to pour detergent, load the washing machine, and even how to add the liquid fabric softener and set the machine to the proper cycle. You can also teach them how to transfer the laundry to the dryer and dry it at the proper temperature.

3. Pet duty - this one's nice. Even before the age of 10, the child can be taught how to feed the animals, brush them, clean the litter box, and clean up the messes in the yard (the latter can be quite challenging but I'm convinced it can be done...we were never successful but I'm sure others have been).

4. Beer/drink tote - this one's a biggie - I can remember as a child walking up many, many steps to retrieve a beer for my mother or father during vacations at the lake. Now, Scytheboy has been checked out in pouring beers from the tap and mixing rum and cokes. Very nice for the lazy mom or pop.

5. Making the bed - as soon as one can, they should teach the child how to strip and make a bed (along with the aforementioned laundry duty). I hate making beds. Scytheboy now knows how to make his bed (sort of). He's not as neat about it as I'd like, but at least he knows the basics and that's what matters. When I'm tired or lazy, he changes his own sheets. I hate changing sheets and making beds.

6. Various other cleaning duties - too numerous to mention, you can teach the child that is 10 or older to perform many household cleaning tasks. The trick is to know when a request of this nature will take hold...like when you have something to bribe them with like a movie they want to see or a game they want to play...also, bribes with cash always work.

I guess what I'm saying is that I've waited 11 and a half long years, but I'm finally realizing the benefits of child labor associated with having a kid...and it's nice. I try not to take too much advantage of the situation, but man it's nice when you can have someone else mix your drink and bring you a bowl of pistachios after a long day.

Last year Scytheboy's school district came up with this brilliant idea of lengethening the school year so the kids could have an entire week off at Thanksgiving. Now they start school Aug. 12th and they don't get out until Memorial Day...but they get a week off school (nine days total if you count weekends) in November, and then another two and a half weeks at Christmas (sorry..."Winter Break"...whatever).

I ask you...how the hell much time do these kids need off during the winter months? I got out maybe half a day on Wednesday, Thursday, and then Friday for Thanksgiving when I was a kid. That was it. Kids are so spoiled these days. Personally, I think the district was sort of forced into this as SO many parents were taking their kids out of school for the entire week anyway for long family trips that they had to do something. At least that's my take on it since so many of our son's friends were always out the entire week before the switch.

Oh well....at least I'll get to sleep late for a week. And Tommy will be here to fry the turkey on Thursday but he works most of the week other than that. And bonus - with the boy home I can convince myself spending time with him is more important than going to the gym every day....right?

Poor Scytheboy....Tommy will be gone Monday, Tuesday, and Friday so there will be lots of days he'll be taken to the store to go shopping, I'm sure. I bet he'll be glad to go back to school before the end of his nine days. Wait...what am I talking about? He's 11. He never wants to go to school...oh well.

Here's to late nights, sleeping in, deep fried turkey, and shopping.

Cheers!

P.S. No worries...I'm sure you'll hear all about our deep fried turkey and how good it was by the end of the week!

When you're invited to an open house and you don't really know anybody that's going to be there, you (at least I) go through an internal q&a process trying to come up with a good reason not to go. After all, I'm not very good at small talk and especially this week I really didn't want to see anyone or speak to anyone at all. Having said that, this was my internal q&a relating to how I could possibly get out of going to the open house:

1. Would it be rude to decline just because I don't feel like meeting new people?
Probably. Damn.

2. Could I get away with saying I have to stay home and make sure our son does his homework?
Probably not. Everyone knows he's a straight A student and works better when left alone. Crap.

3. Could I call them and say I really wouldn't be great company given what happened this week with our dog?
Again - no. They would probably encourage you to come and tell you it will help take your mind off things. Again - crap.

4. Could I call just before the open house is about over and claim I got really lost trying to get there?
No. They're nice people and would give me proper directions from made-up lost location and then I'd REALLY be lost, trying to get to the location I made up so I could follow new directions and could give details if questioned. That won't work either.

5. Can I come up with any valid reason not to go, other than I just don't want to?
No, that would be rude. Get up off your ass, get dressed, put the wine in the bag and go.

Needless to say, I went. A friend of my sister's recently moved to the area and she invited me to her open house. It's just rude not to go if you can when an invitation like this is extended. So I made the effort and I went, even though I SO did not feel like being around anyone.

But I have to say I'm really glad I went. She's a nice girl, and I got to finally meet her husband who is also very nice and they have a one year old who is very cute. There was only one problem....they have a dog the same breed as ours was. So that was a little tough. Okay, it was a lot tough. But I took a tour of their lovely new house, met a few new people, actually made some mild attempt at small talk, and about an hour later I left. It's almost an hour back to our house so I did have a valid excuse that I needed to get home before dark and figure out something to feed the boy.

Note: The "boy" will probably make himself something for dinner because he's not so much a boy anymore as he is a small adult. But that's beside the point.

As a side note, I'd like to say thank you to everyone who dropped by Michele's, Tommy's and here to leave a note of condolence for the loss of our dog. He was really Tommy's dog, but he was the best dog I have ever known and he will be a sorely missed member of our family.

1. Tommy bought him while I was on a trip
2. He was 5 1/2 weeks old
3. The first time I saw him he turned his head sideways as if to say, "who are you?"
4. I never really liked dogs until that moment
5. Our son was born nine months later and he was there to greet him his first day home
6. He weighed over 120 lbs. but couldn't understand why it wasn't okay to sit on our laps
7. He liked to eat snow
8. And peppermints
9. And peanut butter
10. And those chocolate Nestle Crunch bells at Christmas
11. And bark from the plant beds
12. He liked to roll around in rose petals when we pruned the bushes
13. He sighed a lot
14. He was a good dog
15. We'll miss him

I just got finished with a small contract project, and I started thinking about what it used to be like to actually have a regular job where you have to go into work each day and are beholden to your boss' whims.

Anyway, I've had both really good and really horrible bosses. The effects of both seemed very heightened, given that I worked in the hi-tech industry for companies that were either struggling to start up or launching multiple new products and promotions at the same time.

That said, below are some comparisons (based on personal experience) between a good boss and a bad boss:

During a major project that requires approvals and feedback to meet deadlines:

-A good boss will return calls and emails promptly, always with a little tag line about what a great job you're doing and how much they appreciate your hard work.

-A bad boss will not show for appointments or be so late that he misses meetings, turn his cell phone off for hours, and never return emails. This same boss will then come in at the last minute after all the work has been done and change everything so as to ensure you miss your deadline and none of your ideas come to fruition.

During the holidays:

-A good boss will ensure you are able to have some time with your family, slowing down the work flow to ensure balance is achieved and you come back after the new year refreshed and ready to take on new projects.

-A bad boss will go on holiday himself, remaining completely unavailable, while you finish work on the year end report, next quarter's plan, and guiding the agency in preparation for the financial earnings news release.

After a major news release or new product launch is successfully executed:

-A good boss will find a concrete way to ensure you are recognized for your hard work. This could include cash bonuses, complimentary dinners out, or an award recognizing your success.

-A bad boss will take all the credit for the success of the endeavor, never even mentioning that you worked on the project. He will go out with the Sales team to be slapped on the back while you remain working 70 hours a week with no reward and no time with your family.

When the annual Sales incentive trip comes around:

-A good boss will throw your name in the hat as a possible includee in the trip, at least giving you a chance to compete for the few slots that are left for the trip that could be awarded to select marketing team members for their contribution to achieving sales goals.

-A bad boss will do everything he can to ensure that he and his family get to go on the trip, especially if there is only one slot left allotted to marketing.

When it comes to raises and bonuses:

-A good boss will try and ensure all those members of the team that exceed their goals are given the best possible raise and bonus.

-A bad boss will take the largest piece of the raise and bonus pie he can for himself, splitting the pittance that is left equally among the team because he does not like conflict and thus does not ever bring attention to his shining stars on the team.

In general:

-A good boss supports his team, remains available to them for guidance and approvals to ensure their projects remain on time or better, recognizes his employees for their contributions both inside and outside the company, and mentors his staff, helping them to exceed their professional goals within the company while recognizing the need for balance in professional and personal lives.

-A bad boss will remain unavailable, refuse to return emails, will be late for meetings (making sure you realize his time is more important than yours), take credit for any success you have, take time off when he knows you are back at the office finishing the project he will eventually take credit for, give you a mere pittance of what you are worth in the way of raises and bonuses, will rarely if ever thank you for your hard work, and will eventually weed out anyone with any talent or work ethic at all from his team to ensure he doesn't look like a slacker in front of the execs.

Yeah, I've had a couple of really great bosses, but I've also had one or two really bad bosses. I know the bad ones will get theirs in the end...shame I won't be around to see it :).

You know the ones? The neighbors who turn all their outdoor lights off on Halloween, darken the house, and either hide in a back room or completely leave the premises during the trick-or-treating. ..yup, those people.

You see....we only have one child and starting last year he became unenenthralled with the whole prospect of trick-or-treating, especially given the fact he can have candy pretty much whenever he wants....within reason. Oh, to be blessed with those "thin" genes.

Anyway...last year he agreed to dress up and hide in the darkened garage to "scare the little kids" and was highly successful at this endeavor...for about an hour. Then he went back into the house and played video games while we sat on the front porch, had drinks, and handed out candy to all the little ones. We went in once the teenagers with alcohol on their breath and no costumes started to come 'round.

So this year we've been talking about it...and....we've decided to join "those people". Those unsociable, withdrawn people that are completely disengaged from their neighbors on Halloween. We will go out to dinner, and then maybe a movie or a bookstore for coffee and to browse.

But we will definitely not be here....listening to the annoying doorbell, handing out candy to the "precious little darlings" of our neighbors who are WAY out of our son's age bracket, and dealing with those pesky teenagers whose main goal is to remain drunk as long as possible and smash as many pumpkins as they can get their hands on. We haven't even decorated like we usually do.

I know, we're bad. But we will be thinner from not eating all the leftover candy and we will spend some quality time together which we get precious little of anyway...out....with all "those people".

I never, ever, in my wildest dreams though I would EVER utter these words out loud.....I like Martha Stewart. That's right, my newest dirty little secret is I actually like Martha Stewart.

Now, anybody that knows me well knows being like Martha Stewart is nothing I would ever aspire to..at least in the artsy-craftsy creative sort of way. I don't make Christmas ornaments out of sticks and pine cones from the yard, I don't make creative wreathes for my door, I don't make decorative napkin rings...hell, I don't even know where the napkin ringed napkins are supposed to go on a formal table. I will admit to liking a tidy house and having some ability to cook...but that's about as "Martha Stewarty" as I get.

Anyway....why do I suddenly feel the need to confess I actually like this woman? First, let me say her PR machine has been quite spectacular in reshaping her public image. They've done an excellent job of making her look and seem like a "real person" in every single video clip and printed interview I've seen with her and about her since her return to "polite society". She is unabashedly honest about her time in prison, and doesn't complain a lot about how hard it was. She's not even griping that much about how unfair her verdict was. She's chosen to take the high road and get it over with and move on with her life, it seems. At least that's the image she and her people are trying to portray...and I have to say it's a good one.

Now, don't get me wrong. I absolutely hate that she's so domestically talented and could plan circles around me when it comes to a social event. That said, I commend her ability to rise from the ashes and reshape her own image into something that is much more palatable to us at large and hopefully an example to those other actual corporate crooks that are now having to take their medicine.

It will be interesting to see how her new "Apprentice" show goes. But for now...yes....I have to confess I like this new Martha Stewart just fine.

In a word...I am Irish. I am mostly Irish, with a little bit of Indian and a couple other things thrown in. But for the most part I am Irish. We have a unique way about us, and I think it was best captured in a book by James Webb called "Born Fighting". In it, you will find many in my opinion accurate views of who we are, where we came from, and what those who emigrated to America and their descendants have contributed to our history and culture. According to Webb, "It is estimated that there are more than 27 million descendants of the Scots-Irish migration now living in the U.S. Because people from this culture also identify themselves as of Scottish, English or Irish descent, the actual number is probably much higher."

The following excerpt from an article in Parade Magazine adapted from the book clearly defines who I am in a nutshell:

The Scots-Irish are a fiercely independent, individualist people. It goes against their grain to think collectively. But, as America rushes forward into yet another redefinition of itself, the contributions of the Scots-Irish are too great to remain invisible. My culture needs to reclaim itself—stop letting others define, mock and even use it—and in so doing to regain its power to shape the direction of America.

Because our country needs us.

We are the molten core at the very center of its unbridled, raw, rebellious spirit. We helped build this nation from the bottom up. We face the world on our feet and not on our knees. We were born fighting. And if the cause is right, we will never retreat.

Not that I am looking for an excuse about my views, but perhaps now you can understand better why I am the way I am.

Okay, so each year my sisters, aunts, cousin, Mom (if she chooses to go) have a girls' camping weekend. My Mom lately has decided to opt out, but usually at least one aunt and possibly two or three more manage to make the trek to the site near where sundry items of interest occur each year.

Last year, I did manage to make the trip. Luckily (and I say luckily because I admit I am NOT a camper) it was going to rain that weekend and we leveraged the oh-so-nice 2,500 sq. ft. "cabin" my dad built in northern Wisconsin for the trip.

Now...last year was my first year for the trip. In attendance were my godmother (aunt - my mother's only sister), her daughter (my cousin) and my sister. My older sister had work stuff and could not attend, and my mother just did not attend as the previous year she had clearly sated, "this is my last camping trip." Small group. but a good group nonetheless. I flew all day from Dallas, leaving Scytheboy and Tommy behind to do whatever it was they were going to do.

Anyway...as with the military..."what goes on girls' weekend, STAYS on girls' weekend". We all had a great time, there were some illnesses that were overcome (said illnesses blamed on one "bad" bottle of wine in particular"), but nevertheless it was a great weekend. Great to bond again with some of my most favorite female members of my side of the family, with calls in from other favorite female members of the family.

Oh...did I not say this? NO GUYS OR KIDS ALLOWED ON GIRLS' WEEKEND....E-V-E-R!!!

Well, of course, as is usually the case, this weekend was girls' weekend and our "airline of choice" did not see fit to groove with our requested days off on the schedule. So, of course, once again...I did not attend.

Do you know what the problem is with not attending girls' weekend" You are the most immediate target for sundry gossip and story fodder for the entire weekend. However.....and I must say this occurs WITHOUT VARIANCE....you WILL be the target of the "drunk dial".

I'm sure you know what the "drunk dial" is. It's the call you get from the people that are attending the event you missed when they are at the appropriate state of drunkenness to call you and tell you:

a. What a good time they are having and how it sucks that you didn't go
b. How you have been the main topic of conversation for the last hour
c. Tell you what they have been talking about and get your opinion on whatever the current topic is

Now...I am not supposed to tell tales out of school, but.....one of my sisters (I won't tell you who) called me from the campsite one year and claimed that she was "The Queen Mother" and that "She was on her throne" and that "All should bow to her will". Let me tell you.....I was NOT the only person to receive a similar call. Her husband, for one, received an almost exact replica of my call. Why was she "The Queen Mother" and what did her "throne" look like? Nobody knows for sure. Except for those that attended the trip that year (including my Mother) - and they're NOT talking. As it should be.

So anyway.....

In preparation for my drunk dialing call tonight, I began drinking some of my most favorite Chilean Wine at 10:00 p.m. Sure enough...at precicely 10:35 I received my drunk dial call from the campsite. This year, in attendace were BOTH of my sisters, two of my most favorite aunts, and my most favorite female cousin (daughter to one of my most favorite aunts who is also my Godmother). Anyway...let me tell you, I was glad I did some pre-drinking before they called. They were...oh, shall I quote Scytheboy who answered the phone?...."wasted".

I am not at liberty to say what was discussed. All I can tell you is that I was sorely chastised for not being there and that I oh, so wish I was there to defend myself. I could have brought some South American wine to add to the stash and help them avoid what I am sure are going to be some very, very ugly hangovers. Except for my favorite female cousin, who always wisely drinks light beer steadily throughout these girls' weekends.

Girls...I wish I was there with you...not only so I could defend myself but also so I could take part in one of the best things about being a female in our family.

As I was reading Tommy's site today, I suddenly realized that very soon I would once again become a "Hockey Widow". As my beloved spouse looks forward with anticipation to the upcoming season, it's hard not to reminisce of how our life had become seemingly normal in the absence of his hallowed sport. Here is a look at how things will be once the first puck drops to the ice (H/T to Ian Robinson of CNews):

o Before the canceled season, "body check" meant running into an opposing player. But during the canceled season, it meant he was actually noticing what I looked like. I'm going to miss that.

o When he talks about "expansion," he'll be referring to adding new teams to the league. I'll be thinking about what the peanuts-and-lager diet of the season is going to do to his waistline.

o Face-off. For him, two players vying to take control of the puck as it's dropped. For me, the part of his body I want to tear off after being ignored for months on end.

o Lie. The angle made by the shaft of the stick and the blade. Also what is going to be coming out of his mouth when he phones me from his favorite sports bar on game night to explain why he's skipping dinner with my family.

o Neutral zone. The area between the blue lines. Soon to be the office of the marriage counselor we'll be seeing by season's end.

o Offside: When both skates of an attacking player cross the blue line before the puck. This year it'll also mean the nature of the insults we fling at one another that land us in the neutral zone.

o Offside pass: For him, when a player passes the puck from his defensive zone to a teammate on the other side of the red line. For me, what he tries to pull when he rolls amorously into bed after the six-pack and peanuts are gone and the game is over.

o Sudden-death overtime. For him an overtime period that ends when a goal is scored. For me, the state of our relationship by season's end.

Seriously, though. I know he loves hockey and if he's going to love a sport I suppose I can take comfort in the fact it's one I grew up watching in Wisconsin. I will at least have a vague notion of what's playing out on the screen.

But still...the strike was so nice. At least for me it was....

Tommy promised me he'd take me to Buenos Aires, and it looks like he's actually going to follow through. There are seats on the flights to and from Buenos Aires this weekend, so we're bringing in his parents to take care of Scytheboy so I can make the trip.

I cleaned all day Sunday and today I have to go re-clean some stuff in the bathrooms, and also re-do some dusting and re-vacuum because of all the pet hair. They get here this afternoon so it will have been three days, after all.

So - do you re-clean before visitors arrive? Or is cleaning in advance good enough? I always re-clean. Who doesn't re-clean? You gotta re-clean, don't you?

Through the years, many people have asked me what it’s like being married to a pilot who is gone so much of the time. Is my life different/harder when he’s gone? Do I handle meals differently? What about Scytheboy - is it rough on him?

When Tommy went into the Air Force about a year after we were married, that’s when all the separations started. Sometimes a few weeks, sometimes a few months, and one time over a year. We had Scytheboy in Utah, and let me tell you that first winter when Tommy was in the desert protecting all of you it was really hard doing everything on my own. Getting up at 5 to snow blow the driveway after working until 1 a.m. on marketing plans was NOT fun. I didn’t sleep a whole lot, but damn I lost that baby weight quickly!

Things changed a lot when he got on with the airlines about eight years ago. The separations were more frequent, but for only a few days at a time. The lifestyle does not change nearly as much with just a few days apart. And some of the “me” stuff changed, of course, when Scytheboy came along. Pre-child, I spent most of the “me” time working, reading, watching movies and sleeping. And definitely NOT cooking.

So listed below are some of the current “we” and “me” things that happen when he’s here vs. when he’s gone. Scytheboy’s included in both sections, of course. He’s the child so he has to go along with what “We” and “Me” do. Mainly this is how it is on the weekends during the school year and every day during school breaks.

“We” – he gets up early – by early I mean around 8 a.m. - which means the rest of us get up earlier than we do when he’s gone – like 9
“Me” – I get up late – by late I mean around 10:00 a.m. - lately Scytheboy’s been sleeping later than that so it’s been really, really nice

“We” – he makes breakfast and then the rest of us get up to eat it
“Me” – I make breakfast for myself and Scytheboy fends for himself

“We” – I go to they gym right after breakfast, he goes to the gym right after lunch
“Me” – I go to the gym right before lunch as I’ve slept in and am not ready to get moving that early

“We” – he always has something really cool for lunch which I’m jealous of and I stubbornly settle for sandwiches or hot dogs.
“Me” – guilty pleasure – Scytheboy and I go to drive-thru’s at least once and probably twice on the weekends for lunch while he’s away

“We” – I usually make dinner and he usually does the dishes; sometimes he grills the meat, too
“Me” – I usually cook and also have to do the dishes - which sucks - because of this sometimes I tell Scytheboy to make himself a pizza so I don’t have to cook or do the dishes

“We” – he goes to bed earlier than us - in the summer I stay up really late with Scytheboy
“Me” – I’ll stay up insanely later than Scytheboy and read

“We” – he does the yard work and builds furniture while I clean the house and do the laundry and cook; I get cool furniture and he gets to eat
“Me” – not very productive when he’s gone – I read a lot, watch movies with Scytheboy, go to the gym, and sometimes I’ll paint a room or make some drapes

In general, yes it can be difficult at times when the spouse is away and you have a boy child at home. There are some conversations the husband needs to handle and sometimes they have to wait a day or two. Overall, I try to make it fun and we kind of do our own thing and relax a lot when he’s gone.

And when he’s home – Scytheboy likes it when he’s home. Something about the whole family being together seems to be a bit more special to us since we don’t get as much of that time as others do. Scytheboy is less inclined to have friends over, and he spends a lot of time talking to his Dad about things. IM has helped so we do have a chance to chat with him while he’s away.

I will say I wouldn’t have it any other way. Yes, there is time apart. But we all get our alone time (something other people have to fight for) and we appreciate each other that much more when we’re together. To each his own. But this way definitely works for us.

I admit it. I'm a folder. Always have been. I'm a folder married to a crumpler. It kinda bothers me that he's a crumpler but they do say opposites attract so I guess we balance each other out.

So which are you? A folder or a crumpler? Go take this survey and then check the results to see how you stack up against the other participants.

When people ask me what my hobbies are, sleeping definitely tops the list. When I was working lo those many years, I believe I did suffer from chronic sleep deprivation. Even when I got the time to sleep, I was so wound up from work and all the stuff I felt I had to do around the house that it took me a really long time to get to sleep at night.

Scytheboy stopped taking naps when he was about two. Tommy jokes about how I used to go "lay down with him so he would take a nap" - and then Scytheboy would come out about 15 minutes later and whisper, "Shhhh...Mommy's sleeping." I guess that happened. I don't know because I was sleeping. Yes, those weekends when Tommy was home I did take a lot of naps.

And now that I don't work I have no problems getting to sleep at night - usually. But last night it was after 3:00 a.m. before I finally got to sleep. Must have had something to do with eating apple pie and drinking a soda at 10:30 p.m. But I did get to sleep until 10:00 this morning so I'm not THAT tired.

Anyway....you wanna know what's great about having one child who is 11? They sleep late!!! And even if they do get up earlier than you they're self-sufficient and you don't HAVE to get up. Yes, summers are definitely late night/late morning days for us. For those of you that still have small children at home - I empathize. But for those of you that have children middle school aged and older - ain't it great to sleep late?

Unfortunately, most women in this country who have children feel the need to justify their choice in this matter one way or the other. Having lived life on both sides of this issue, I guess you could say I have a unique perspective to bring to the table.

My decision to stay home was not an easy one. Can I just say that I am a ROCK STAR in my chosen career field? I managed highly successful global marketing and public relations programs for high-tech companies, and I even pulled off some kick-ass corporate events. One of my old bosses stops by here sometimes, and I can say with confidence that he would agree.

Having said that, given the volatility of the high-tech area in the late 90’s through today I was laid off a couple times. The last time was in February 2002 when the company I managed global public relations efforts for was bought out. So there I was, on unemployment, looking for jobs in a highly competitive environment – everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, was looking – even those that were still employed. I figured I wouldn’t have a problem finding something, given that up until a few months prior to being laid off head hunters were courting me to go interview for Director level positions in the Dallas area.

Boy, was I wrong. You see, as a family we decided it would be best for me to try and find something with little or no travel since Mr. Average travels for his job and coordinating schedules would be a total nightmare. Needing to schedule travel 4-6 weeks out to coordinate with the airline schedule just does not work with this requirement.

I think it was probably about three months into job hunting when I took a real hard look at whether or not I even wanted to continue looking. By that time, I had re-connected with my family and had come to a full understanding of everything I had been missing while I was at work. I was one of those workaholics – I left work, came home for dinner, and immediately jumped back on the computer to do more work. Being the sole contact for public relations at the small company I worked for did not help – it was not uncommon for me to be speaking with a reporter and/or trading emails with my CEO or customers in the evenings. Plus, we had shuffled some things around and financially we discovered that if we were careful, we could make our bills comfortably and I would probably never have to go to work again. So I was left asking myself, “Is it really worth losing this time with my family to go to work when we don’t need the money?” And, to be honest, after being able to sleep a little later and getting a lot of things done I had let go around the house, the thought of getting up early and fighting Dallas traffic to go to a job I really didn’t need was getting less and less appealing.

So….one night I walked into our bedroom and told Tommy, “I don’t think I’m gonna go back to work.” He said that was fine, but I think he was really surprised as I had been so driven to succeed in my field before the last layoff. After doing a close examination of priorities it was painful for me, given my past success. But sometimes you have to do what is right for your family. I am a firm believer that you can have it all – just not all at once – if there are kids involved.

So now I am at home and I have to say I have really enjoyed spending time with my family and doing some much needed work to make our house prettier. Mr. Average is home from work at least half the month, and when he’s home (especially in the summer) it’s truly like a vacation with neither one of us working. I have done a few free-lance things and will continue to do those as they come up, but currently I am not aggressively seeking full-time employment and I think my family is better for it. I will probably go back to work eventually, but it will have to be the right thing. And next time, my priorities will definitely be straight so my family does not suffer for it.

I’ll post more at a later date on this subject. We’ll talk about PTA Nazis and their ilk, the neighborhood cliques, and other things.

Okay, so my husband over at Stiving for Average said I should really start my own blog given that I am constantly saying to him, “you should go blog about that.” Somehow I get the feeling he thinks if I have this site I’ll stop trying to control the content of his site. So do any of you think that's acutally gonna happen?

I’m not going to be one of those habitual, daily posters but I will post when I feel I have something relevant to say or have a good story to tell. Just so you know, if I have anything to say about politics I do lean to the right...Okay, WAY to the right. It's okay if you're blue, I won't make fun of you (too much). In fact a lot of my extended family are blue, but I'm doing my best to "educate" them so they learn the "right" way to look at things. But enough about that. I hope you like what you see here and comment often.