Weekend goodness

I just had a delightful weekend. Friday we found a daycare provider who is not trying to rob us blind (The only other person who returned my calls wanted $130 a week, when Warren will be there for 6-8 hours a week. Uh-huh.). Good folks with a a handful of kids, one who is Warren's age. I feel good about the people, and frankly that's all I can really hope for.

Saturday we ran a few errands, and went to a kiddo's birthday party. I wasn't sure how Warren was going to do, with all those big kids (the party was for an 8-year old), and the party took place at one of those inflatable bounce-castle places. An entire compound full of those things. At first Warren would not leave the Little Tykes Cozy coupe (you know, the red and yellow little kid cars everyone either had or coveted as a three year old). He sat in that thing and scooted along backward for an hour. When we tried to get him to play with something else, he screamed. But once we finally coaxed him out with promises of bouncy balls, and hid the damn cozy coupe, he could not get enough of the entire thing. So, that was a total blast to watch him play with all the big kids.

Once we left the party we got home just in time to meet Jen and her new man-friend. They were kind enough to bring a bunch of different beers we'd never even seen before. So, we made burritos and guacamole and spend the evening doing our own beer tasting. (Only tiny sips to taste for the pregnant lady). Just an utter delight.

Then Sunday, we had a leisurely breakfast and went for a walk and watched Warren play with a scuba-diving proof camera. And since it was scuba-proof it is also toddler proof. So, for once he got to play with the grown up toys without anyone stopping him. And that's just fun. So much of childhood and toddlerhood is being told you aren't allowed to play with stuff, or touch anything. So, it was a blast to give him free-reign to touch and play with something without being told to stop.

Thank You, Mean Phlebotomist!

I've been a blood donor for over 10 years. I finally got around to donating here in Sacramento through BloodSource. Over the last decade I've had more good experiences than bad. Last time I went in to donate they asked if I could try giving platelets. I've never really thought about giving components, as it takes FOREVER and no one ever asked. But, hell, I'm game, so I told them to go ahead and run all the tests to see if I'm a good candidate. Part of the original screening process was checking my veins to make sure I had a good one. I warned them that some had had difficulty with my veins in the past. The nurse reviewing assured me my veins were just fine.

Sure enough, I got a letter in the mail stating that they'd love to have me as a platelet donor and a day later they called to schedule my first platelet donation. I told them I could only donate on weekends, and they gave me their last available Saturday appointment: 7:45 am. Not too bad, except the closest location is a 30 minute drive (it's the suburbs. EVERYTHING is a 30-minute drive).

Saturday morning, I got up at 6:30 showered, dressed and managed to get there only 5 minutes late. (What do you want? I'm pretty much always late for everything except work.) I patiently awaited my turn for the pre-donation interview and torture/finger prick to test for iron. I was certainly dragging ass at such an early hour on a Saturday (especially following a night of cocktails and crummy tv), and so was the nurse who interviewed me. But, it was going along swimmingly, until she went to pull my blood vial from the centrifuge. The vial holding my blood exploded over the course of its spin. So, weird, whatever, she pricked another finger and spun it. A second exploding vial. So, a third finger prick, with a new batch of vials and a new centrifuge. Finally got my iron count, and it only cost me three fingers.

I finally got to sit in the donation chair, where I had to sign all the waivers and hear all about how the blood was separated and pumped back into my body. Fine. The phlebotomist who was setting me up was professional if brusque. She poked and prodded my elbows for a few minutes without any luck before asking a superivsor to help. The supervisor moved my arm to a different position and sure enough, a vein popped right up to the top. "See, just position her arm like this and it's all good," explained the supervisor.
"Oh, I see. Well, I'm going to do this a different way," responded the phlebotomist. Which should have been my cue to run screaming from the chair. But, being the good little patient I just smiled and let her get on with it.

She moved my arm, and then pulled out the sterile pen to mark the vein. This should have been my second cue that all was not well. But, she was confident and went about scrubbing my arm and prepping her needles.

So, here comes the stick... and nothing happens. No blood. She missed the vein. So, she starts moving the needle around IN MY ARM trying to spear my elusive vein. Then she calls the supervisor over, and she takes a turn wiggling it around. No luck.
With the needle still hanging out of my arm, they both head over to my other arm looking for a vein. Nothing doing. So, they decide this ain't working. Which I'd figured out right around the third time she tried to "fix" the needle.

As a parting gesture, as though the day hadn't been yucky enough, the mean phlebotomist patronizingly patted my hand and sneered at me, "You know, if you're not all that successful giving even whole blood, you should probably stick to whole blood." As though she was doing me a favor.

So, before 9 am I'd been rousted from my bed before the sun was up, sacrificed three finger tips, been stabbed in the arm, then had the needle shoved all around my arm (resulting in a delightful bruise), before being judged then asked to leave.
And then we wonder why more people aren't donating platelets.

I miss Oakland.

It had been entirely too long since I've breathed some good ol' fashioned Bay Area air. So, Saturday morning, Warren and I hopped in the car and took off for Oakland. (And by "hopped" I mean, loaded up a stroller, an ice chest full of Warren-pleasing snacks, a sack of toys, 4 million diapers, three changes of clothes and everything else that would conceiveably fit in the car. Children make going anywhere just a joy).
We sang the whole way down, and got to spend an entire day hanging out with Sister Jenn, Friend Jen and SIL Kate. I got to cruise the Lake Merritt Farmer's Market, make fun of the douchey kettle corn guy (Seriously? Instead of sizes Small Medium and Large, he had the Teaser, the Pleaser and I blocked out the large equivalent sized name, as it was also horrible), eat a baby-free lunch with Jen, watch some Charmed while Warren napped, then feast on sushi.

We were back home by 9 pm, exhausted and totally happy. I miss Oakland. And I really miss the casual hang out time with my friends and sister. But now that Birthday DeathMarch is reaching a close, I should have a few extra weekends lying around. So doing a day trip like that is no big deal at all.

I mentioned last week that Warren is calling the cell phone "mama." Well, he's still doing that, but since I've been trying to correct him by pointing to myself and saying "I'm MAMA" he now pats everyone on the chest saying "I mama, I mama." So, that is not working out, but is pretty damned funny. So, I'll call it a draw.

Valentine's Day

This weekend was fabulous. Friday afternoon was spent going to various appointments with my brother (needing a ride, and moral support), then we all came over to my house, ate some awesome dinner, and after we put Warren to bed, I accompanied Xtian in taking my brother home. And along the way, Xtian had a glorious idea: let's stop and get a little drink. Hell, the kid's taken care of, it's Friday night, what the hell? Like real grown ups and everything.

We finished out the night with grocery shopping at 11 pm (thank you, 24 hour grocery stores!). The store was filled with lone men feverishly picking up Valentine's Day essentials (strawberries and pancake mix, chocolates and steaks etc). We got home, put groceries away and went to bed.

As a couple, we've never really made a big deal out of Valentine's Day. I'm not one for sentimental expressions, and Xtian prefers to just do nice things for eachother all year, rather than make every romantic expectation hinge on this ONE NIGHT. Too much pressure, and really, can't we just be loving to our partners all the time, instead of being dicks all year, then using one day to make up for it?

So, we parted ways with a Kiss and a wave Saturday morning, and I drove to Santa Rosa to spend the weekend at Sarah's. Awesome. We shopped, we did crossword puzzles and giggled, we went to her students' monthly Variety show (incidentally, Santa Rosa? You have amazing high school students. Just incredible), then off to stuff our faces with sushi and sake.
We climbed into bed at 10:30, completely exhausted. And I was not awoken by a crying, whining baby even once. (A kind of annoying cat a couple of times, but I didn't have to do anything to soothe him, so still a vacation).

Sunday was a harrowing drive through a huge storm, which was fun when driving the vehicular equivalent to a beach ball (lots of surface area, but with little actual weight behind it). But I got home safely, and spent the day being charmed by a sweet little baby. Who of course, is back to waking up a few times a night needing comfort. Damn you Sleep Regressions! Just when you think you've got this parenting thing down, the entire game changes.

But a wholly satisfying weekend, nonetheless. Huzzah!

Hoooooray!

Xtian got the job! Hurray! He starts tomorrow! I just know it was due to all the positive vibes out there from my lovies!

So, tomorrow Cory becomes our full time (Man)ny. We'll see how that works out for him, and hopefully we can make this a permanent arrangement.

That's all I have to report, and thank you for everyone's happy thoughts over the last few months.

Blue Skies Smiling at Me!

Hello 76 degree weather in January. You are the reason I live in California. Sure there are those who say "I like having four distinct seasons! It's not really Christmas without snow!" And to them I say... HA! Keep living in your state of denial. I will live in the state of Awesome.

It just keeps getting better and better

So, today I received my security deposit itemization from our old place in Oakland. You notice, I did not write "deposit refund." Yeah, that's because my landlord is claiming we would owe them $45 due to "damages". Umm. Nope. So, I just had to fire off an "Oh No. You did not!" letter. Which sucks because we always had such a cool relationship with them. And they charged us $560 for "cleaning and mold abatement", which is bullshit since I cleaned the place to a rosy shine before we left, and as renter's lawsuits keep showing, renters aren't responsible for mold, unless they cause it. And since they can't show how we caused the mold (it was mentioned that the place had a propensity for mold when we moved in) I do believe that's not our problem. So, I hope this won't be causing a problem. I do so like them both. But damn! I owe THEM $45? Bullshit, says I.

Gah! Holidays!

No, really everything was just delightful over the holidays. Low key affairs all around. Warren's 1st birthday was just wonderful with tons of good people, good food, and way too many gifts for the kiddo. So many gifts, I had to hide more than half of them for later use. I didn't even bother bringing out the couple of things I'd bought for him. Now, we have a huge stash of toys to bring out and cycle around when he gets bored of the current ones. It's really fun seeing everyone I love falling for my kid. He's really pretty special. I know, everyone says that, but man this kid just knocks me out every day.

He's a total walking machine, and is quickly figuring out climbing. Woof. Warren's sleep is getting better. He's now used to our system, if he wakes up before 5 am, Xtian takes him to the living room to snuggle and catch a few more hours of sleep. If it's after 5 am, I'll take him to bed with us and nurse him. Then I get up around 6 and sneak out of the house without waking any of my boys.

This morning was a day where Warren woke up after 5, so I nursed him then dozed until my alarm went off, then got myself ready and left for work. Xtian woke just after I'd left, quietly got up and got himself together for the day, leaving Warren asleep in our bed. While Xtian was making breakfast, he glanced over to the living room to see Warren wander in. He had apparently awoken, scootched out of bed (he's learned the lay on your belly, and backpedal until your feet hit the floor move all by himself), and came looking for breakfast without a word. Like, "hey, is there coffee?" Funny little person he is.

He finally recognizes my family and will willingly run to them when he sees them. This is a huge step forward for him, and he's grown particularly fond of my dad these days. A wonderful turnaround from a few months ago when he would scream every time he saw my dad. But now, he's Grandpa's boy and it's pretty precious.

The guys are still struggling to find work, but we're doing ok. If we can just cut our expenses a little more, we'll actually be able to survive on my income alone. Not well, and not really making progress, but we'll make it. And with Xmas over, we have a few weeks off until the next family birthdays (4 of them in one week. Fantastic planning.)

Work is up and down for me. Some days I feel like I'm doing well and can be successful, other days I feel like I'm going to fall flat on my face and that this is the worst mistake I've ever made. But more good than bad. I just hate not knowing, and feeling unsure of how I'm being judged. Stressful.

We're planning a quiet New Year's Eve, with a bottle of champagne and lots of sleep for Mama. I've been sick for the last few days and am dying for an extended nap. We'll see.

Hope everyone is doing splendidly. Hey 2009 has got to be better than 2008, eh?

More Morning Follies

Since starting the new job, I've decided to start being the professional I want to be. That means taking a little effort with my clothes, my hair, even putting on a little make up in the morning. I pretty much suck at all thing "Femme" so I went the easy route when it came to foundation and picked up this stuff that is supposed to match your ideal skin tone. It starts off as white with little silver beads in it, and shifts to a skin color while you smear it on. (I can't imagine what horrible things are in it that make it do such a thing, but that's another issue). And up until two days ago, it worked gorgeously. My skin was a little nicer looking while still looking vaguely like my own skin tone.

Like I said, until two days ago. When I squirted the stuff out of the tube, it was kind of clumpy, but whatever. I started smearing it around my face and had turned to pull out my eyeliner when I caught a glimpse of my face in the mirror. Tangerine Orange. Fake Tans of the 80's orange. Horrifyingly ORANGE. Apparently this stuff was past it's "sell by" date. Thanks for the warning, assholes!

So, with two minutes to remove any hint of Oompa Looompa from my face, I grabbed a tissue, rubbed most of that crap off my face, called it good and ran out the door with my face a decidedly different color than my neck. Hot.

So, a trip to Target later, I'm the proud owner of some new mineral foundation makeup. I haven't quite figured out he trick to getting enough on to be worthwhile (and maybe pretend I don't have the skin of a 17-year old pizza delivery guy) without putting so much on that people start looking to see if that's an Adam's apple I'm hiding.

I need classes on how to be a girl.

Still Alive

Oh holy god. I'm so exhausted I could cry. We're here, all moved in and about 90% unpacked, if you can believe it.
I started work today and so far so good. But you never can tell on the first day. All you do is fill out forms and read a million things. Sounds like a good company and a great team of folks. I'm working mostly with men and I'm kind of relieved about it. I just do better working with male dominated groups, I don't know why. Or maybe it's just that the few female dominated work places I've had were completely toxic and horrible. Who's to say?

In the process of moving, we lost two cats, found one, lost another one and found the other. So, we're still one cat down, and Xtian has to drive back to Oakland to get Vickie, but Fiddy seems to be settling in. I have no idea if Maggie will ever come back, and the fact that I'm kind of relieved she's gone is really hard to handle. I love her, but she's been so miserable for so long, I was at a loss for how to deal with her.

The place is better than I was expecting and having our own room back is soooo delightful. I need about 8 more lamps to handle the darkness in this place, but I'm pleased overall. And when I left this morning at 10 minutes till my work start time, and STILL made it on time? Well, I just had to do a happy dance in the parking lot. Oh and in further good news, I talked to my old boss, and his daughter lives 5 miles away from me. So, we actually have opportunities to get together. I really miss him, we had such good times together.


Oh and just to put a capper on it, my old work called me asking me some bullshit inane questions about a box of golf balls that were shipped last week. As though I could be bothered to give a crap? Why are you calling me? I don't work there anymore! I think I'll be dodging the calls from now on. What a bunch of crack asses.

Internet at my house is still in the works (how they managed to let the outside phone lines get CHEWED ON? I just don't understand), and until I know the internet situation at work, I'll be a little light on posting and reading my folks. Hope everyone is doing well, I'm just fantastic.

Ummm...

Remember when I said there was nothing new to report? Well, now I have a couple things to report.
1. My boss was fired yesterday. This is total bullshit, and a really bad decision on management's part. The rumor mill is a-going and apparently I'm "tearing her hair out" over the whole thing. I guess that's true, aside from the "tearing my hair out" part. I'm disappointed and sad that my friend is gone. But really, good for him. He doesn't have to come here anymore only to be treated badly and plotted against. And, I think he's going to demand a sizeable severance package. So, woohoo! Nicely done Steve!

2. It seems that I have a new job. WOOOHOOOOO!!! Right as I got home from a hard day at work (what with my mentor being fired), I got the call and the offer. I'm a little torn about the whole thing. It's less money (again! Two jobs in a row with a paycut! Hurray! Oh wait, no. Boooo!), but I'm hoping the reduced cost of living will help with that quite a bit. And they want me to start on October 20. Yes, THIS October 20th. Giving us just 17 days to quit our jobs, give notice to our landlords, find a new place to live, find a way to PAY for our new place to live, pack up and move. Oh, and we all still have to work in the meantime.

Who's up for a coffee?

So, I'm totally overwhelmed and a little shellshocked after the last two days. But, in one fell swoop I've managed to cross two more items off my list. (Almost...we'll wait until I actually start the gig and have an address to call my own before we strike it).

So, thank you for all the sweetie thoughts and encouragement for the last...well forever. I'm super excited and also terrified. Exactly how you should feel at a time like this, I should think.

Holy crap! Did I mention that I'm moving to Sacramento? And got a job? For reals?

All before 7:30 am, no less.

Ok, so everyone but me has their cranky pants on today. Sheesh. I guess we can't all just have a nice day together. Ah well, I guess it's my turn. But damn, do I feel chipper today. I've been a little better about getting to bed earlier, and what a world of difference that makes.
Especially with my ridiculously long sleep the night before. I had a doctor's appointment on Wednesday, so I didn't have to be in the office until later. And my appointment wasn't until 9:50 am. Warren woke up around 4:30 to eat, and since that's about when we're usually getting up in the morning, I fed him and well fell back to sleep. Until 8 am. My lord, that's a lot of sleep since I crashed about 10 pm that night. Deeeeelightful.

This morning, when Xtian woke up, so did the kid. Xtian brought Warren to me, on the couch where I'm still sleeping until the sleep routine is solid. Warren ate and fell back asleep while I got ready for work. As I was finishing up my post-shower routine, I heard Warren fussing so I went to grab him. I found him, eyes closed, standing up against the back of the couch. That scared the crap out of me. He's been sleep crawling for a while yet, but sleep standing? That's new. I guess I'll have to barricade the hell out of him the next time he's asleep on the couch. Woof.

Xtian and I use the kitchen for our dressing/getting ready area in the morning. Since Warren sleeps in our room, it's just easier to not wake him, or the parent who's still asleep, depending on who's up earlier that day. Xtian was long gone, and after I got Warren set up and happily playing, I went to the kitchen to get myself dressed and ready. I turned on the light, and saw, Xtian's wallet. Crap. A quick phone call revealed that Xtian was driving through the Santa Cruz mountains, and while he could probably squeak by without his driver's license, he could NOT be without his company gas card. Shit.

So, he turned around and started heading back toward Oakland, while I threw some clothes on myself, the kid and threw all our crap in the car to deliver the wallet. The trade off happened in a parking lot outside of Hayward. Then I had to drive back to Oakland to drop the kid at daycare, and back the way I'd just come to get to work. Whew. Poor Xtian, what a crummy start to the day. And he's got baby pick up tonight, since I'm going to Sacramento with sister Jenn to have dinner with my mom. Fun for me, rough day for him. Yikes.

So, how was your morning?

Aww, Thanks Guys!

I'm still completely overwhelmed with the awesomeness that is Warren's non-fucked up head. I've spent the last 4 months or so in a constant state of worry. My entire mindset has been, "no decisions, no plans, nothing can be done until after..." after what? I don't really know. Sometimes it was after the appointment, in my less optimistic moments, after surgery. And now I'm still finding myself thinking, "Gosh, I'd really love to go do X, maybe after Warren's....OH WAIT! THERE IS NOTHING I HAVE TO WAIT FOR!" Very much a freeing feeling. But I still have all this built up anxious energy, so, I'm hoping to burn some it up at the gym today. And, weirdly enough, alongside all this anxious energy, is utter exhaustion from spending months poised on the verge of complete meltdown. Humans are odd.

Jen came over with a delightful bottle of wine to celebrate Warren's continuing streak of health and perfection. I drank a few glasses, and have no headache this morning. Go me!

I am, however, completely exhausted. Warren's been teething, and he's pretty miserable. He spent all day Sunday whining and sleeping fitfully, Monday he was pretty much ok, aside from waking up screaming an hour after I'd put him down for the night. He had a really rough day at daycare yesterday, but was so relieved when I went to pick him up that he couldn't stop smiling and laughing at me. So, that was just kind of delightful. Since Warren's such a daddy's boy, I don't get to be the one who makes it all better very often.

But then he refused to take his early evening/late afternoon nap, so was completely wrecked by 6 pm. So, I decided to put him down for the night, see how that went.
Turns out, not very well. He woke up crying an hour later, quickly escalated to constant fussing and moaning that only being smooshed into Xtian's neck could fix. So, I rubbed a little baby Orajel on his gums to give him a few minutes of relief. And that worked just long enough for me to grab a shower. While I was finishing my getting ready routines, I heard Xtian exclaim, "OH MY GOD!" Followed by a splashing sound.
Warren had thrown up all over the place. I was not aware that much of ANYTHING could fit inside my kid, but clearly, it does. So, at 10 pm, we're throwing Warren and Xtian into the bath, and cleaning floors. By then, Warren was completely exhausted and just out of control (well, as out of control as Warren gets, mostly quiet whining and some sniffles). Poor kid is just a hot mess this week. And he's even more pathetic, because he tries to smile and laugh in the midst of feeling like shit.

This is when I feel vaguely guilty for enjoying going away every day. Everyone kept telling me that I'd change my mind about wanting to stay home with the kid. So far: NOPE! While I love Warren and I do miss him, I'm more than happy to hand him off to Xtian or the daycare and let them deal with his fussiness all day. By the end of the weekend, I'm pretty much ready to send him back to Nana (what we call the daycare lady). Hence, if it ever becomes possible to be a single-income household, Xtian will be the one to stay home with the kids.

Happy Wednesday, I'll be the one still floating on a cloud of relief.

Brutal

Holy crap. When did everyone decide that Memorial Day is now a four or five day affair? I mean, I know Christmas is subject to "Holiday Creep." But I was not aware Memorial Day was in the same boat. If you couldn't tell, ain't nobody at work today. It's only 9:30 am, and I've already burned through all 30-something websites I usually browse through over the course of the day. PEOPLE! WRITE! I'm bored!

Oh, and I have something else to add to the list of bullshit people have complained about at my work. A few days ago, we got an email from one of the VPs stating that apparently there were some boxes left in the hallway, and my department needs to take care of those. Umm, no fire codes were broken, they weren't blocking any walkways, they were only in the hallway overnight, since the mailroom didn't have room for them. But during those 2 business hours the boxes were there, THREE emails were sent complaining about it. Dude, the boxes were stacked up and took up less room than an office trashcan. Just fucking ridiculous. Sometimes, I want to punch everyone in the face.

Methinks today is an excellent time to take a half day. I don't know how I"m going to make it another 5 and a half hours. I'm already done with everything that has to be done today, and I'm pretty sure this is how office violence happens. Luckily, I'm unarmed. Enjoy your long weekend folks.

Action Warren!

Yeah, can you tell what my folks gave us for a Mother's Day and early Father's Day gift?
The camera kicks so much ass, it's ridiculous. HOwever, the software that comes with it, not so much. Hence every night for this entire week has seen me hunched over my computer for hours at a time, intermittently beating my fists against the desk, screaming at the computer and cursing technology in general. I still can't load the videos from the camera to my computer (oh, and did I mention that I'll never be able to do anything on my home computer? Turns out, my geriatric laptop is finally completely incompatible with any software you can buy. Luckily, I have this big ol' work computer just sitting here, so I'll be using that. Yeah, thanks work computer!) but at least I found enough work arounds, and it only took killing one of my unrewritable dvds to do it.

That right there is the reason we had a GREAT mother's day, but a "meh" anniversary. Hard to be sweetie pie when you're too busy screaming profanity at a computer. So, that's that.

Yesterday, it was 101 degrees in Oakland. No joke there. Now, I've lived in Chico, where it can get up to 118 no problem for most of the summer. But this is Oakland. Before this week, the hottest temp I've ever seen in Oakland was maybe 88. I know, that makes me spoiled, but it also means that most of Oakland does not have air conditioning. And did I mention that my house has metal siding, and most of our windows either don't open, or don't have screens so we can't open them without having cats throwing themselves out the window? So yesterday we just baked. It was miserable. How do you cook a meal when your house is officially 103 degrees (yes, it was hotter inside than out. Spectacular)? I decided we needed to order pizza instead. If you have a Mountain Mike's pizza near you, do yourself a favor and order the BBQ Chicken Luau. I know it sounds weird to have chicken, pineapple and BBQ sauce on a pizza, but it is quite honestly the tastiest pizza in the world. I might even prefer it to ... Zachary's. I know, strong words. But seriously...awesome.

Right, so sometime over the weekend, I need to buy a dress to wear to an evening wedding. Damned formal attire! All the dresses I own are either black (and therefore completely inappropriate for a Summer Time Wedding) or way to casual for an evening affair. Did I mention that I hate shopping? Because I HATE SHOPPING.

In the meantime, visit my flickr page to see more LIVE! ACTION! WARREN! If'n you're into that sort of thing.

Verbal vomit, my favorite!

So, I think I hate the new color of my little page here. But I wanted to dick around with the sidebar stuff, and the editor was so enticing and has some new features. So, you start screwing around and in a matter of minutes, it's hideous. Of course, about that time I realize I've got shit to do, so just leave it with a strange combo of off-putting colors and say, "eh, at least it's not making my brain hurt to look at." This is exactly how I go about doing anything vaguely artistic. I start out trying to do something neat, then get bored, and say screw it. I'm awesome.

You know, I try to keep as much of my money in Oakland as I can. I like to support my local shops as much as possible, or at least frequent chains in my neighborhood. I've all but stopped eating fast food, which is also good. But the other night, we were watching a little tv, and saw a commercial for a new sandwich at a fast food joint. It looked delightful, so we said fuck it, and got some. Now, here's where we run into problems. Oakland is chock full of the worst fast food employees ever. Three sandwiches, all the same. Two of them were missing the very ingredients that made it different from any other burger. Nice job. And in classic fashion this place that advertises by talking about their flame-broiled burgers? Yeah, these were definitely microwaved. And it seems like all the restaurants in my neighborhood, chain or not, are like this. The worst service with completely shitty food, and they'll give you an attitude about it. Really makes me feel good about keeping my money in the neighborhood. I know, I live in the ghetto, but do we have to keep perpetuating the crappiness? For reals, how hard is it to NOT SUCK at your McJob? Of course no one wants to be there, but at least try not to throw my food on the floor before handing it to me.

In other news, in addition to the 5+ murders in my neighborhood last week, a woman was shot while she slept in her bed. The bullet was intended for someone else, but managed to miss the target, go through her wall, and kill her. I know my neighborhood is getting worse, but I make it a point to minimize my trips outside the home after dark, I stay out of the known problem areas, and do my best not to piss anyone off. And now even all that isn't enough. People who aren't involved in anything shady are being killed in their beds. West Oakland is really getting awful. Just a little more fuel on the "Get the Hell out of Oakland" fire.
Which is a shame. Aside from the growing violent crime, I really like Oakland. I like the people, the weather is unbeatable, seriously, it's just crusty urban enough and isn't totally gentrified, yet.
(Tangent: You got to love my comments when another house full of hippy/punky people moved in next door. "Goddamn white people! Just ruining my neighborhood!" Yes, I am white, thanks for asking. Sometimes I don't even make sense to myself. And no, I don't count as adding to the gentrification. I'm married to a black man, and have a mixed kiddo. I'm practically an honorary member of the community. So says I!)

Warren's only 4 months old (almost) and I've already had problems with the racial check boxes. Some forms have allowed me to check as many boxes as apply to ethnic and racial heritage. But a lot still force you to choose one. Well, that's just not going to cut it. He's not more white than black, or vice versa. And the whole, "One drop, and you're black" shit is just racist as can be. So, I've just been checking both boxes, and forcing the form reader to make that choice.
How is it that most of our government forms haven't figured out the whole "interracial parents" thing? I didn't think it was 1952, but apparently, I'm wrong. I didn't think biracial kids were that uncommon anymore. Why is this still ok?

I'm annoyed. Can you tell?

I keep waiting for the crazy first time parent thing to start happening. Not that I want it to, but I'm really not feeling that obsessive "I'm doing this wrong aren't I" pressure. We don't have many toys for him, I don't really think most things we have are even necessary. I tend not to worry about most things. My general parenting attitude can be summed up in, "eh, fuck it." Is it going to start up eventually, or since I'm a crazy person to begin with, am I just exhibiting those tendencies via milk supply obsession?

Meanwhile, my 16-plus-pound almost-4-month-old is starting to pull his knees under him and start pumping his legs while on his tummy. It's so close to mobile, I'm ready to put him inside a box to keep him from crawling. I'm totally unprepared for a crawling kid, it's not even funny. Shoot, that'll mean I'll have to do some baby-proofing. And we all know I'm lazy! I was hoping to be out of our current home before he is capable of self-propulsion. Hell, half our old-school heating vents don't even screw into the wall! I'm going to lose Warren into the heating ducts, and then I'll have to send the cat in after him. That'll be some top-notch parenting. I can't wait.

Ok, this is day two of brain-vomiting all over the place here. Someday I'll show up with an actual narrative arc, I promise. Just not today.

Convoluted, a tad.

So this weekend had a few rough spots. First, after talking to the insurance company, Xtian informed me that they'd be collecting the $2,500 deductible from us. Great.

Then, we found out on Friday afternoon that my brother wouldn't be able to leave rehab for his birthday. Someone was caught stealing, so the whole place goes on lockdown. During lockdown, the residents aren't allowed to leave, send or receive letters, make phone calls nothing.They made an exception by letting Chris call the family to tell them not to come. Poor kid had to spend his 22nd birthday without getting any cards, hearing anyone sing to him, or seeing his loved ones. And since I don't do religion, I DO BIRTHDAYS, this broke my heart for him.

Finally, while finally finishing our taxes, I discovered, not only are we getting NOTHING back, but we owe California $700. Hurray.

The last 3 months have been absolutely, unbelievably difficult. But they've also been pretty amazing. Between the utter financial ruin we are facing, and the tough emotional and family stuff, I didn't think I'd make it out alive. On the plus side, we've got a wonderful little baby, a pretty cool developing relationship with my brother in law, and I was on the receiving end of some pretty incredible generosity and we're still reaping the benefits of it all.
So, after initially freaking out when all the shit hit the fan on Friday (I will admit to smoking a big fat cigarette) Xtian and I talked and decided that we'd get through it. It would be tough, but we could do it.

So, I was feeling pretty even keel this morning. The more than three thousand dollars we now owe weighs pretty heavily, but I'm getting pretty good at putting it into perspective.

And then Xtian called. He just talked to the insurance company, trying to work out a payment plan. Except, after reviewing the facts, they've decided NOT TO CHARGE US A GODDAMN DIME! The landlords will sign their check over to us, we return it to the insurance company and it's over! I still can't believe it. So, in one phone call, we went from "Holy fuck, I'm going to have to start turning tricks" to "Shit, only $700in taxes? Who's worried? NOT THIS GUY!" We'll be able to start putting money back into savings by the end of next month, so we can have a nice cushion when we eventually move.

So, at the beginning of this weekend thought we owed $3,200 and wouldn't be able to see my brother for his birthday. Monday morning: only out $700 and will get to see Chris this weekend. This is what we call RELIEF! And just when I was thinking, Can't a bitch get a break here?
Hurray!

And I'm officially writing a goal here. If I write it, it has to happen, right? I will have found a new job, and we will move before Warren's first birthday. It's going to happen, because I will make it happen. And now I've told you all, so kick my ass about it, would you?

Oh what the hell!

The fun thing about pregnancy is that it completely changes your body. I've long since lost all the weight I put on during pregnancy, but that in no way means I can fit into my pre-pregnancy clothing. It also means that all my maternity clothing is way too big. And I go back to work in less than two weeks. Have I mentioned that I hate shopping? Because I do. Also, since we're to be in the poorhouse for the foreseeable future, we really can't afford to buy new clothing. So, yeah. Pleasant.

Oh, and did I mention that we'll be lucky to get $50 back from our taxes? Even with the addition of an entire human? Yeah. Apparently Xtian's raises and extra hours put us into a higher tax bracket. Jesus. This garbage has to stop. I called a moratorium on bullshit a few weeks ago, did I not? Seriously, I know these are all minor setbacks but DUDE! I'm fragile! This is freaking ridiculous. It's about time someone else's life gets a little messy.

On the plus side, there's a VERY cute little boy making giggling sounds at me. We popped that kid on our scale last week, and it showed him weighing 14.5 pounds. He is just over 8 weeks old. And apparently, he's a big boy. Tonight we begin our tours of the daycare options in our neighborhood. I'm really going to miss our leisurely mornings of waking up together, snuggling in bed while he chats at the blinds and smiles at me for half an hour. Like a glutton for punishment, I can't wait for another one. (Although hopefully that will happen after I've gotten a job in Sacramento and we've found suitable housing and are pretty well settled in.)

$7,277

That's our responsibility from the fire. We're so beyond screwed, I can't even begin to think about it. Goodbye savings, the entire tax refund, and about $2000 that we don't even have. Fucking fantastic.

That is all.

I'm going to punch that Bleeker kid in the Weiner next time I see him.

So, for my birthday yesterday, I got a pretty damned good present. The Patriots LOST the Superbowl! It was pretty much awesome.

After my declaration of No More Drama, clearly, we had to light our house on fire. This was last week, on Xtian's birthday. In an attempt to light the barbecue, the boys realized they were out of lighter fluid and thought gasoline would make a handy replacement. A visit from the fire department, and a big hole in the side of our rented home later, they figured out they were wrong. So, that sucked, and will continue to suck, as we discovered that our landlord's insurance company is trying really hard to not cover the damages. It's either that, or they'll charge back any costs directly to us. So, either way, we're pretty screwed. Hope Warren likes Top Ramen, because that's all we'll be eating for the next few years. Fuck.

But all that aside, it's all good. Warren's sitting next to me, talking to the blinds, waiting for the "fun" parent to come back. I think my friend Nathalie talked about this. Warren only wants me when he's sad, or so tired he can't keep it together anymore. Dad is here for all the fun, giggling and smiling. Not that I'm bitter. Really, watching Xtian's face light up at the sight of Warren, and watching Warren break into a huge gummy grin at the sight of his daddy is one of the sweetest things I've ever seen. It makes me cry a little bit, in a good way.