Sparks and Butterflies

I get a lot of pitches. LOTS of pitches. I chuck them daily, and only read the ones addressed to ME, not “Dear Ms.,” “Hi,” or “Dear Mommyblogger.” You see I’m pretty clear on my blog, if you know where to look (and I would think PR folks would know where to look), that I do have a review blog, where to contact me, who I am, etc. I tend to only read the ones from networks I belong to and work with, or the ones addressed to, “Dear Michele.”

This one was addressed to ME. So I opened it. Here it is in all its glory.

Dear Michele,

Happy Holidays!

We’d love your opinion on our new e-book/app for kids, “The Worst Book Ever!”  The description is below.

Thank you!
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The Worst Book Ever!
(available for iPhone and iPad via iTunes)

Does your child love to eat mushrooms, apply sunscreen, do chores, and go to bed early? We didn’t think so. But they’ll still love this highly misguided story, filled with all the things your kids dread doing. The interactive format allows them to experience:

* the excitement of extracting splinters
* the exhilaration of flossing teeth
* the thrill of portable potties
* the adrenaline rush of a piano recital
* the hilarity of visiting the doctor
* and so much more!

If you’re not convinced already, take a look at what readers are saying:

“Whatever you do, don’t buy this book.”

“I thought it would be bad, but I had no idea.”

“Lives up to its title.”

“If you’re looking for fine children’s literature, keep looking.”

“It was worse than even my very lowest expectations.”

Nothing is wrong, per se. My father and assorted clients are just making today a real Monday, with a capital M, you know? I needed a break, so I thought I’d post something that Carmen posted on her anniversary that really spoke to me. She found it on Pinterest, so hopefully the attribution is correct.

He’s not perfect. You aren’t either, and the two of you will never be perfect. But if he can make you laugh at least once, causes you to think twice, and if he admits to being human and making mistakes, hold onto him and give him the most you can. He isn’t going to quote poetry, he’s not thinking about you every moment, but he will give you a part of him that he knows you could break. Don’t hurt him, don’t change him, and don’t expect more than he can give. Don’t analyze. Smile when he when he makes you happy, yell when he makes you mad, and miss him when he’s not there. Love hard when there is love to be had. Because perfect guys don’t exist, but there’s always one guy that is perfect for you.

~Bob Marley

With that said, I love my husband.

So… Today, I have to somehow balance work and pre-cooking/baking for tomorrow.

Work isn’t going well. I have gotten a lot ready on Poe’s old computer… But there are certain things. Such as I need a .pdf editor. I have one, that works, on disk. Except that the CD drive on the old computer won’t, you know, OPEN. I tried downloading a free one, except that it didn’t do what it said it would. I would convert something to .pdf, save it on a certain filename, on my desktop – and then it wouldn’t be there, and a search on the system shows that filename not existing. I cannot believe I’m going to have to PURCHASE a downloadable, when I have one, and this computer is merely temporary.

And then I have to do the setups all over again when my new computer, Daisy comes.

I’m so frustrated.

Mercury is supposedly going into retrograde. I’m blaming it.

So… Why did I sort of disappear? A migraine, yes. It was a sort of confluence of events that led that way.

First, the headache itself had been coming on for days. I’m very sensitive to weather pressure which I think is something to do with my ears and sinuses. Since we’d had rain “coming” for days, I was feeling it, and I knew I wouldn’t get relief from that until it actually did, indeed rain. Which it did all day yesterday.

Then Friday. Oy. Around 3pm, I was working, and I went to reach from my soda. I was paying attention to what I was reading on my screen, and my hand swept my soda across my laptop (pink, named Betsy). A full 12 ounce glass, and I spilled it ALL. I’ve owned a computer, as well as used company computers, for 20 years. Aside from feeling old, I have never ever ever spilled on my computer. Frantic paper toweling. Frantic drying and opening and tipping to actually POUR out the soda. After all that, my poor Betsy wouldn’t even turn on.

I work from home. All my work is on my computer. I wasn’t worried about my files – I use Carbonite, and my stuff is constantly backed up. But the physical computer itself… I need it to work. So I was faced with two problems. 1) Could I pay for a computer. 2) How soon could I get it, as I had to work Monday for sure. I actually still had work to do Friday, but could be put off. Since I’m taking off Thursday and Friday, I HAD to work Monday – Wednesday. I had enough money in my save for taxes account. Hate to use it, but frankly the computer is more important for the moment. Phew. OK, so can I access it right away? Call ING, since I leave that money in that account, since it’s a no-touch account. Yes, I can, here’s how. OK. Phew. So now… How do I get a computer fast.

My normal M.O. is to take time to figure out what it is I want, best price for it, search for additional coupons, and order online. That’s all well and good, but I can’t get it to me by Monday if I do that. Which means a Brick and Mortar store. ::shudder::

I don’t like people, crowds, or salespeople. So I made Poe come with me. We went to the nearest store Friday night. I made a decision. They didn’t have any in stock, but they could ship it for free! That didn’t help me solve the whole issue of being able to work on Monday. Oh, but look at this one – $200 more – not in stock… After the 4th not in stock, the salesman trying to jury-rig something together, Poe looked at me and said, “Let’s go home. We’ll try somewhere else tomorrow.”

I was terribly disappointed. By this time it was dark, and lights can trigger my headaches as well. We stopped for dinner, and then went home. On a whim, Poe tried to turn Betsy on. And she did. Sigh…

But I can’t trust her. I have no idea the extent of damage that might have been done and I need reliability. So, I went ahead and shopped online for what I want, and am waiting for shipment. So, I just need Betsy to last until then. Her sister will be named Daisy.

Friday night I went to bed, a little upset, and with the nagging headache I’d had for a week. At 4am, I awoke to a full-fledged migraine. I downed medicine and staggered back to bed. When Poe got home from work, I let him know what was going on so he could handle things. I ended up sleeping until 5pm. Sleeping isn’t quite the right word. Twilight sleep, I guess, getting up every three hours or so for more medicine. The only thing that helps is trying to stay unconscious, a cave-like atmosphere, and physical counter-pressure. In this case, as usual, it was my right temple. So I slept on my  right side with the pillow wrapped around my head. I got up around 5pm with the headache gone, and in the hangover phase, where I’m not quite there, and dealing with a fog. But since I slept ALL.DAY.LONG… That night I couldn’t get to sleep again until 4am. Which made the next day, Sunday, a difficult day to get anything done.

So… I’m grateful. Why? I found to money to replace my machine. I can work today, Monday. The migraine, and after effects, happened when I didn’t have to work. I’m grateful.

I’m really struggling with a decision.

I’m not sure I’ve ever had this much trouble just making a damn decision. Procrastinating on following through? Yes. The decision itself? No.

Furthermore, the predicament has put me in a situation with a client I’ve never been in before – and I totally don’t know how to react, or what to do about it.

It’s particularly sad, I think, when a client comes up in my personal therapy. Sigh.

I know. I’ve been vague. That would be because the internet is forever, and regardless of the situation – I have no intention of publicly maligning my client on the internet. This is about me and what I need to do about it. Which, at the moment? I have no idea.

I got interviewed.

One caveat… She calls me a Mommy Blogger. I dislike that term. “Mommy” sounds to me like I have babies – my kids are 11 and 9, so that’s not true. Plus, I consider myself a “Life” blogger – I wrote before I got married and had kids, and I’m pretty sure I’ll be writing after they leave the nest. So, yeah.

Anna Deskins is a writer, and a huge proponent and lover of children’s books and reading to your kids. She asked to interview me – and the results are here on her blog, An Interview with Mommy Blogger, Michele. Go check it out.

Yeah. That title is a little dumb. Kind of like saying the sky can be blue… Water can be wet. Ya think?

So, where the hell have I been? Right here. I work from 5am to 5pm with some breaks for things like picking up the kids. Work is rather demanding at the moment, and I’m still trying to get my feet under me. I’m learning to not make my clients’ emergencies my own personal emotional emergencies, if that makes sense. But? We need the money.

In addition, my mother needs much more care. So, that’s thrown in there, and I had to drop a few clients for that reason. I just couldn’t keep up.

And to the “friends” on Facebook who I don’t know who are friends simply to be game neighbors (ie, I don’t know them)? Your comments of “Where are you, I sent you stuff?” Unappreciated. It’s a game. I can’t play right now. Deal.

Then? Joseph had another 5150. For those not in the “know” – that’s the famed 72 hour Psych hold in the hospital. I simply don’t want to get into the details at the moment, as we’re still in the midst of the mental and physical cleanup and logistics. Suffice it to say though, it was nowhere near the nightmare it was last time. That… was the worst week of my life (and I’ve had a hard life).  So – that’s positive – it wasn’t anything like that. Short story, we spent 30 hours under guard. Joseph was under guard, not me, but we weren’t exactly going to leave him there. And finally one… ONE… social worker LISTENED to us. The first one after 4 shifts, and no doctor seen. She saw something in us that no one else who just wanted their papers off their desk saw. And she made the personal decision to advocate for us. Other that Joseph’s current personal team, she’s the first who I felt cared. Really cared. I hope she never loses that. Joseph is home because we convinced them to break the hold. Let me say that again, because it might be foreign to those familiar with 5150s. We convinced them to break the hold.

Minor miracles. Sometimes I think those are the only reason I’m still alive.

There’s lots’ of stuff going on right now. Frankly, I just don’t want to think about it at all, so I’m just not going to. Instead, I’d like to tell you a love story.

As a crossing guard, I spend a lot of time watching the grass grow. Literally. To remain sane, you become hyper aware of your surroundings. You begin to pick out patterns and routines around you. My “post” is across the street from a park. Many folks walk their dogs there in the mornings.

Around 8:30am, a large gold truck will park. An older, large man in his sweats will get out, hike his paints up a bit, open the back door to grab some stuff, and then will grab his dog. I have no idea what breed this dog is. She’s white (it’s totally a “she”), with curly hair, and on the large side of the small category. She’s totally perked up and ready to go. She doesn’t bark at anyone. She goes right to the grass to do a little bit of “business” and lifts her head and tosses her hair, and goes on to march around their route – which she picks. She picks the same one every time. This is one spoiled dog. On particularly cold days, she has a bright pink sweater on. On rainy days, I kid you not, she wears a yellow doggie rain slicker. (It’s absolutely adorable.) She wears her clothes with a panache that many humans cannot duplicate. I have named her Princess in my head.

On most days, another set of dog/owner come along to the park. Sometimes around 8:30am, and sometimes not. They walk there. The owner is a scruffy man with a large backpack and a visor. They vary their route, and the dog also picks the route. This dog… I don’t know what it is, but it looks like a small horse. I think it’s a “he.” He will bark at all large vehicles – not in a warning manner – more like, “Look!  A Toy!” When standing next to me (they sometimes cross to my side of the street), his head reaches my ribcage. He has very long hair. It is worn in two pigtails so he can see. His hair is so long that when you see him trot from behind, his hair swings in a very distinctive manner. Thus, I have named him Snufflupaguss in my head.

The magic happens when both Snufflupaguss and Princess arrive at the park at the same time. They will spot each other from across the park. At that moment, the music swells, both owners let them off their leashes, and they run to each other from either side. When they meet, their tails wag so hard, their entire bodies move. Snufflupaguss will lay down so Princess can actually reach him. She’ll run circles around his body while he just wriggles. I can tell from all the way across the park and crowded intersection that they are screaming, “OMG IT’S MY FRIEND! MY FRIEND IS HERE! LOOK! IT’S MY FRIEND!” After their initial greeting, Snufflupaguss and Princess will form a circle and go around and around and around greeting each other in the timeless way of dogs… Sniffing each others butts. Their owners look on like proud, indulgent parents.

When these two get together, and I’m able to witness the event – it makes my whole day. Joy. It’s everywhere if you choose to look for it.

As a way for my family to make ends meet, I took a part time job as a crossing guard for the last 3 months.  It is an extremely busy main drag in our town, a four lane four way signal.  Here are my notes:

For the Drivers:

• See that sign?  It says “No U Turn.”
• See those THREE signs?  They say “No Right Turn on Red.”
• If I’m in the intersection – with my obnoxious neon vest, red hat, and huge red sign?  Don’t run the red light.  I’d like to live to see my children grow up.
• Don’t stop IN the crosswalk.  If you do, I have to make the pedestrians wait another cycle of lights because you’re an idiot.
• Don’t yell out your window at me, even to be funny.  At your speed, I can’t hear what you’re saying.
• Don’t honk while right next to me.  I may pee.  No, I’m not kidding.
• My hand signals are not for you.  If they were, I’d be facing you, making eye contact.  I’m not a traffic cop, and I’m not signaling you from the sidewalk.
• I WILL give your plate number to the Sheriffs.  Also?  They like me.

For the Pedestrians – Kids and Adults Alike:

• Did your parents really teach you to act that way?
• Yes, I will yell at you if you attempt to cross the street IN a SHOPPING CART.
• Also?  Use the brain God gave you.
• Yes, I cross everyone.
• Yes, I know you’re not a kid.
• Yes, It’s company policy.
• Yes, I get paid.
• Also, it’s rude to ask my salary, seriously.
• Yes, it’s a real job.
• If you’re gonna get bitchy ’cause I broke your stride, use a trail or track – not the public street.
• Did you really just do the “jogger snot rocket” thing next to my shoe?
• Get off your skateboard or bike. Repeat.
• Judging by your walking while talking on the phone skills, I suggest that you not try chewing gum.
• “Thank you” never hurt anyone.
• Don’t ignore me when I speak to you.  It’s rude.
• When I tell you to hurry up, it’s probably because the light turned.  HURRY UP.
• Tie your shoelaces.
• I’m a mother, I can totally take you.  Do that again, and I’ll smack the back of your head.

<shameless self promotion>

After that incredibly dreary post, here’s an update on the other stuff I’m doing around the web…

As always, I write at the Fun and Function blog.

I have a card giveaway going over at Butterviews.

There’s a deal posted at Butterviews for Crystal Essence products.

And I have a fledgling business blog to go along with my business website.

::cough::Comment love is always appreciated.::cough::

</shameless self promotion>