Friday, September 24, 2010

Happy, um, 15 months and 3 weeks?!


You are quite the little man these days. Aside from pulling out your classmate's (and girlfriend's) pacifier so that you can more easily plant a kiss on her lips and her returning the peck a few minutes later, you are pretty much the running-around-and-getting-into-everything-child that I thought you would be.

I love it, definitely. It wears me out, definitely. And I'm tired of re-stocking the toilet paper in the upstairs guest bathroom, definitely.

Several nights ago, you did what I suspected was only a matter of time. You dug your hand deep into the container of dog food in our pantry and shoved as much of it into your mouth as you possibly could. Thank goodness for clumbsiness and small hands, I guess, because we think that only one - or two - of those scrumptious bites of Eukanuba dog food made it into your digestive system. As you pointed out, it's OK because Echo eats your it's only fair to return the favor. Right? I tried to talk your dad into taste testing Echo's food last night but he wasn't having it. Not unless I tried the food first. And THAT, obviously, was not in the cards for us.

Besides eating PLENTY of food, what else are you into? Well, you love the toilet. You love to almost throw things into it (luckily we catch you just in time). You love communicating with us in sign language that your dad started teaching you six (or more) months ago. "Please", "thank you", "more", and "milk" are all signs that we communicate with on a daily basis. Obviously, your dad and I mistake this for nothing less than your budding genius skills.

You love to run. And fall. And tumble. Today we received a call with an "incident report" from your school. I no longer panic when I receive these calls because they are fairly regular - - at least one a week. Well, today was the most serious: you fell in the indoor gym and had a knot the size of a golfball on your forehead to prove it. You didn't seem to mind, and the teachers were not in a panic, so we were OK after we got that call. We love you and always want you to be safe, but we've also learned that you are 200% B-O-Y. You fall, you tumble, you trip and you just keep on going. Unless, of course, someone is looking. If they see you, then the tears come rushing down those super sweet and squeezable cheeks.

Connor, you make us smile every day. Probably 100 times a day. I have been known to walk really really fast (almost run) in my work heels when I pick you up at school because I cannot wait to hug you. And hold you. And, of course, I always look forward to seeing Mr. Bunny (or Nu Nu, as you call him), too.

I love you, Connor.



Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Is it still today?

Today could quite possibly be the longest day of my life. It just went on and on and on... but never fear because the votes are in, all hanging chads have been accounted for, and we have a final result.

As one might expect, after being told to "wait by the phone from 8am until noon" for a phone call from my boss, I was anything but calm. When he called, I am pretty sure that I answered the phone before it actually rang. Not that I was impatient or waiting for his call or anything.

Fortunately, after only a minute or two of small talk, he said the words that everyone longs to hear: "you've been placed".

Monday, September 13, 2010

The Waiting Game

It’s this weird, hard-to-describe uneasiness. For better or for worse, I will not have any question about the outcome after tomorrow. The uneasiness will give way to change. At least the change will be definite, though. None of this worry that it may be this way or it may be the other way.

After I get that phone call, I will at least know what is going on. And how to proceed. Until then, it’s almost as if I’m in this in-between place. Its a strange, weird, and unstable place. I'm not really motivated but not unmotivated, either.

I am supposed to get a voicemail today indicating a specific time for tomorrow (Tuesday) when I need to be sitting by my phone to find out if my position has been eliminated. The company announced several months ago that layoffs would take place “this Fall”. And now, we’re here. My boss has given me little reason to be worried, pointing to my recent promotion and strong sales performance. But, there is always that chance. No matter how small it is, there is that chance that I will no longer have a job after tomorrow.

I go back and forth about whether or not I think that it is beneficial to know in advance of the layoffs. Since the announcement, motivation for the majority of the sales reps has been lack-luster at best. That’s negative for the company’s desired sales results and negative for the few motivated sales reps that are still out there. Most everyone in the sales force has at least updated their resume, posted it on the appropriate websites, and let friends and family members know that they are interested in learning about any new opportunities that they hear about. Others have taken new jobs or at least started interviewing with other employers. That’s the good thing about advance notice: those with the desire to work elsewhere take this opportunity to do so.

So, today I learn what time this particular uneasiness will end. Even when I find out that I keep my job (being positive here!), it’ll be sad and hard because some of my friends and co-workers may not be as fortunate. We will potentially be aligned to different managers, will definitely have a new territory, will not have counterparts in our new geography, and there will be new customers to learn and friends to help find new jobs. So, today things are the same. Tomorrow they will be very different.

Please keep your fingers crossed for me. Maybe cross your toes, too.

Sunday, September 5, 2010

We did it.

Dennis and I decided that we'd try something outside of our comfort zone: we would go on a parents-only vacation and we would even enjoy it. Maybe we'd laugh. Sleep in. Eat lunch at a random time. We could even get really really crazy and have adult conversations for several hours on end. And then take a nap just because we could.

Well, we did it. (And, I cannot escape being a mother too much this weekend because as I typed "we did it", Dora the Explorer's song came into my head. I've been totally changed, there is no denying that. Plus, that song DOES have a good ring to it.)

Hilton Head is our beach destination of choice because we've been there numerous times and consider ourselves to be in the small elite crowd of beach experts in the area. Our skill level far surpasses others as we watch them struggle to put an umbrella in the sand WITHOUT AN ANCHOR. Or, they come out to the beach with only two towels and nothing else. And, what about the people who spend hours trying to put up a funeral tent only to have it collapse or blow over in the wind?

It's hard being perfect. It really is. We try to hide it, but we just can't. I mean, when you look at the photos below, you can tell that there is NO WAY for us to hide who we are.