Irritable Boss Here

Those of you in Gen X, Y, Z and Zero or whatever you* call yourselves, consider this a little advice note from your boss. I recently, due to no fault or ambition of my own, doubled the number of subordinates who I supervise. It has not been a joy-filled experience. And as much as I hate to think of it in this challenging economy, a few young stars in their own firmament may be getting a career change opportunity in the next few months.

I don't like thinking that way. I like to let people do their jobs out of my way (and I like to keep out of theirs). My primary responsibilities and yours are not the same and I'd like to trust you to just DO yours without my intervention.

Do you know the primary cause of employees not rising to their responsibilities? No, not incompetence (although that plays a role). Absenteeism.

Yes, you may get 26 days of leave a year**, half vacation, half sick, but that doesn't mean at the end of the year your balances should be 0. With vacation, maybe, but you really should have some brains and try to husband your sick leave. Also, bosses get very suspicious of leave taken on Mondays and Fridays. So here's the advice:

1. Regarding vacation leave: request it, don't demand it. If all your peers will be on vacation, don't assume you'll get that week off as well. Unless you want your employer to think: "Hmmm. We really can manage without all of them. Why don't we try that, since budgets are getting slashed."
2. Regarding sick leave: it gets annoying when you always get sick on a day that makes a weekend a long weekend. Soon you'll be asked for a doctor's note, even when you just need to stay home a day or two to recover from a cold that doesn't require a prescipriton.
3. If you do have leave, don't let assignments be late and completed after you return. Finish them before the two weeks in the Bahamas.
4. If you have children or pets or a chronically ill spouse, while it's reasonable to request leave to care for ill children, pets, or spouse, it also behooves you to befriend a few neighbors. Really. Suck up a bit. Do you want to be beholden to your cranky neighbor lady or your not-cranky-but-really-really-tired boss who just wishes someone wouldn't always leave her with finishing up subordinates' jobs.

I have no expecttation that anyone will take this advice. But really, if you have a new boss, and need to keep your job, these might be suggestions to follow.

*Assume you are a GS-5 to GS-11 and you report to me. Yes, I know you don't, really. But trust me when I tell you, what I'm about to say might actually benefit you. Might keep you employed. Might keep you from eviction or foreclosure or just being that totally annoying crying drunk at the bar who is so totally not getting laid except by a serial killer.

**Assuming a first, second, or third year employee. After that, you get more leave than that if you work for the feds. If you've made it until your fourth year, you haven't annoyed the living shit out of me with leave abuse, so you clearly figured it out. But even so, think about what I'm writing here.

I Don't Know How I Did It

My plans do not include stopping blogging, except I seem to have stopped blogging. I plead parenthood, being fully employed, being mildly ill, and being fucking exhausted.* I also, with a smidgeon of pride, plead successful working parenthood. TG is in orchestra, honors orchestra, a sports team, taking instrumental music lessons, taking four honors classes (excepting phys ed, social studies, and science, which at this grade are the same for everyone) and also running a cute 11-year old business plus doing a variety of workout, activities, and other tween-type stuff with her friends.

I have to schlep TG to sports practice, honors orchestra rehearsal, instrumental music lessons, sports games, and things like the library, the YMCA, birthday parties, school events, parties, etc.

DG is taking a foreign language, art classes, and will be starting skating classes (which she has been begging for for several months). She also has been doing ballet, but we will be dropping that since the milieu doesn't suit the inventor of Rhino Head.

In addition to the kid-related activities (KRAs), I've been working double-time: I've been taking over about 1/3 or the responsibilities of a temporarily disabled colleague, including doubling the number of employees I supervise (Oh, joy!) and taking on a bunch of computer stuff. I'm not a power monger. People who want office power creep me out: it's really easier if you just let people do their jobs. Ok, people who don't do their jobs, well, they suck. And yes, if you frequently call in sick on Mondays and Fridays, yes, you aren't carrying your weight.

But actually, the people reporting to me, mostly do their jobs without interference. Nonetheless, a 100% increase in staff I supervise has made me a bit overworked. Not overwhelmed, but veering in that direction.

Add to that some annoying and non-midlife related symptoms that have me meeting with a specialist tomorrow leave me not-exactly keeping up with anything other than kids and work and teaching Sunday school. Knitting group? Living without me, without any hitches. Reading group? Abandoned. Clean house? A distant, fond memory that has no real bearing on the present day.

I'll clearly have to do some cleaning before Foilmormor, NSLOS, and LOS come down for my upcoming 50th. I'm also saving desperately to buy a home within the next year and for a trip to Europe to be there for Francesca's 50th.

I live in hope that I'll have time to write again. When? Who the heck knows.
*Being fucking exhausted ("BFE") is basically a synonym for being employed + being a parent of one or more under eighteen-year olds. Having two under eighteen-year olds means I am not just being fucking exhausted, I'm ABSOLUTELY fucking exhausted.

The Happy Elf

Last weekend I got reviewer tickets to see The Happy Elf, an Adventure Theatre play, but at Montgomery College in Rockville rather than the usual Glen Echo home of Adventure Theatre. I took DestructoGirl, who loved the play/musical. I prefer the traditional Adventure Theatre venue to Montgomery College's performing arts center, because Adventure Theatre's intimate stage is much friendlier to small theater-goers, but the play was very enjoyable.

Unfortunately, the show was at 7 p.m. and lasted 90 minutes, which made it rather late in the day for a six-year old. But despite the late hour and the more impersonal venue, the play was an enormous hit with DestructoGirl.

First off, to parents of the younger set: this play features Santa and Mrs. Claus (Santa loves cookies, Mrs. Claus tries to keep him from eating too many so the sleigh can still lift off), which, for the Santa-believing set is quite a draw. Everytime Santa appeared on stage, DG just beamed with delight. It didn't hurt that Elliot Dash, who played Santa (as well as the Mayor and a policeman) had some lovely musical numbers and dancing, at both of which he was quite adept.

Clint Johnson, the actor playing the Eubie, the Happy Elf was quite charming and elfin. I wasn't humming any of the songs as I left the theatre, but DG was totally smitten with her first live musical theater experience. My favorite character was Molly, "the baddest kid in Bluesville", played by Valerie Issembert.

Our theater evening wasn't great, since the girls were getting sick, and DG had had a long, long day (cooking with my Sunday School class, visit with Innana, ice skating birthday party, and then the play) and DG was tired and cranky. But despite exhaustion and under the weather offsping, the play was a big hit. Unfortunately for me, DG was so tired we had to head homeward immediately after the end of the play. Harry Connick, Jr. was going to answer audience questions, but we had to head straight home and put one exhausted six-year old to bed.

After that, TigerGrrl got sick, and we've had some other mishaps this week, hence the delay in posting. The Happy Elf is a great play for the 7-10 age range, and great for the younger set, although I would recommend a matinee for those 6 and under, or, if 7 o'clock is the time of the tickets, an afternoon rest before heading to the theater.

Out of Synch

DG has turned six. TG is eleven. I'm almost fifty. Despite the alleged horde of women giving birth in their late thirties and early forties, I'm the oldest mother of a kindergartner I know. I go to the PTA meetings, look at the young men and women with peach fuzz on their faces, and think: they're too darn young.

I have one couple my age who I hang out with on occasion, and their children are all through college. The mother of DG's best friend, who considers herself to be too old for leggings (I didn't know they came with an age limit, and this woman hasn't hit it yet) without a mid-thigh tunic over them, was born the year I graduated from high school (1979). We're friends, but our lives diverge.

The guys I've dated (no-one since Sicko, this last spring, but I'm drawing on five years of experience) are generally my age or older, although some have not been. They all seem to have kids who are grown or no kids at all. Most men in their late forties and early fifties are not parents of elementary school age children.

My two best friends here (and my best friend in Europe, Francesca), Innana and SNV have no children. At my knitting group (yeah, yeah), there are grandmothers and hip young singles. There's one other mother with kids: a home schooler of about my age with FIVE children.

People are drawn to one another by shared experiences, and I do have plenty of people in my life -- wonderful neighbors, great friends, a good life, but I really feel out of pace with everyone. Most of my high school classmates are seeing their children into and through college. The other parents I know are children to me. Not really, I see them as adults, but the seem so darn young.

This isn't complaining -- nothing wrong, just not quite in synch with the rest of the world.

Firewood

I love the crispness in the air when I get up in the morning in fall. Especially after the soggy, sticky, moist, limp dishragness of summer. And in my current place, I have a fireplace that works, and this morning, before work (yeah, I'm working today) I'm bopping over to friends to assist them in clearing away the wood from a tree that they had to take down last year. Firewood. Yes, I'm incredibly helpful. What a giving person. Amazing how this works in my favor. And their backyard gets cleaned out.

Also, the girls love fires in the fireplace and toasting marshmallows. All good.

Happy and Boring

No new disaster dating scenarios: I'm done with dating for a while. I don't have the time or energy. Most guys seem to require a fair amount of effort and I just don't have that to give.

No new health crises. It looks like I'll get through 2010 without requiring surgery, joints being reassembled, or other health interventions. TG has braces and is getting more, but that's about it. I'm donating platelets again, which feels really good. Not the actual donation -- that's a bit uncomfortable -- but the feeling of contributing. And I know that in some way, I'm actually helping others, which is not something I get to do a lot right now. Everything is pretty inward-focusing on my daughters and me.

Still teaching Sunday school and enjoying it, much to my amazement. And agnostic/almost atheist me is still enjoying church. Of course, there are many other atheists and agnostics in my church, and no one seems bothered by the fact that I teach all the Bible stories as literature and myth and add commentary like this regarding the Abraham/Isaac story: "You think this is the action of a loving god? A god who asks its subjects to prepare to sacrifice children? Yeah, didn't carry through, but the whole scenario reeks of sadism to me. Can anyone define an abusive relationship using Bible or Twilight characters?"*

TG started middle school and DG started kindergarten. My memories of middle school are of unrelenting hell, so it's with great pleasure that I observe TG continuing to love school, be surrounded by friends, and generally love life, with some sports and some academic activities (Mathletes!) that she enjoys. DG views kindergarten as her own personal triumphal march, clearly designed to give her pleasure. Someone has told her she's a good artist (she is) and she shows me her work, explaining "This is a very talented flower" (it is).

And DG can ride a bike without training wheels, so we all can bike together on the many bike paths in this area. Yee-haw!

Last night, two neighbors invited me over to dinner, and I realized that I've never known and liked so many of my neighbors, or their dogs. I know all the dogs in the area, from the pit-bull/lab/St. Bernard mix in my old apartment (with the young dudes) named Flower who is such a wuss that when it rains the dude downstairs lifts his 180 pound tender Flower up over the big puddle that forms on our building's stoop because Flower doesn't like to get her paws wet in big puddles to the ferocious King Charles Cavalier spaniel named Thor who tries to intimidate Flower, but is cuddly with DG and TG. And yes, I know the dog's names, but not those of the cute young dudes who walk them. Plus a Boxer puppy, a Boston Terrier, and several Bichon Frisees who leap with pleasure and delight when they see kids to play with.

So again, my life is boring to write about now, but truly pleasurable. Oh, and I'm knitting a 1930s glam-dress pattern that will probably keep me busy for the next year or two with size 0 needles.

Nothing to see here. Move it along.

*Actually, I'm exaggerating there, but only slightly.

Change in Direction

I haven't felt the need to write about my thoughts and feelings the way I did in 2005-2007. Things are pretty settled and my life isn't careening towards or through crisis after crisis. The divorce is final, PdeFF and I are making pretty good work of sharing parenting (as long as I don't have to pay is ridiculous bills, he and I get along pretty well even though he is rather nuts -- we agree on the one big thing: the FoilKids are the center of the universe and we love them). I've had the same job, which I enjoy, for almost five years, and it's looking pretty stable. Since I'm not paying for a babysitter (or full-time child care, since DG is starting kindergarten) my disposable income actually includes a part that is truly disposable. I'm putting money in savings. I've increased my retirement plan contributions, and am re-starting contributions to the girls' college accounts. I can occasionally go out to eat on my own dime.

The last five years? Pretty rocky, but I got through it. But here I am now, and now DG can ride a bike. So my goals for the next year are pretty simple: save money (for a safety fund and for a home purchase), and regain physical fitness. Next year, LOS has suggested that we take the FoilKids up Mt. Moosilauke, which is a pretty minor climb, but bigger climbs will follow. I'll have fewer injuries (dislocated shoulder, I'm looking at you) if I'm in better muscular shape. Also, it's time to start taking the girls biking. So the change in focus: less on what's going on inside my head, more about what I'm doing.

Last weekend, Innana and I took the FoilKids to Bush Gardens Williamsburg. We must have walked around that park five or six times. This weekend, I biked 11 miles today. Tomorrow, either biking or hiking, I'm not sure. But my goal is to get some real exercise at least four days a week. And increase my activity level. Hiking, biking, swimming, skating. Not to mention simply trying to keep up with a five-year old and eleven-year old.

Home Sweet Home

Really, that's all. Safely back. Nuclear Grammy is fading fast now (I think I said that when I saw her in December, but now she can't remember from one day to the next), but we had a nice visit. I saw everyone I wanted to except on old college friend and Cousin Roland and his wife and their new (preemie) twins. I'll visit them over Christmas, when the babies actually look like babies and not just red blobs, and also are less vulnerable/at risk for infection.

Adrift

I left my cell phone charger at LOS, so I've been out of phone contact for a few days. I don't know what day of the week it is, and I'm liking that. The FoilKids have played on a beach, done lots of bicycling, and been cooking breakfast every day. I've seen Aunt Elsebet, her daughter, LOS, FoilMormor, and will be seeing NSLOS, Big Grampa, and possibly Nuclear Grammy shortly. And Francesca and her Mom. I've been in Massachusetts, Vermont, New Hampshire and Maine, and will be eating lobster in two days time. Next week, I return to real life, but until then, I'll remain cheerfully oblivious of the days of the week.

And DestructoGirl is biking on a big girl bike (thanks FoilMormor) without training wheels. So when we get back to DC we can do the bike trails for family outings. I'll try to post when so sane people can avoid the C&O Canal towpath, the W&OD, the Capital Crescent, and the Mount Vernon trails when DG might be there.

Lucky, Part Deux

Up in New England on vacation now, I spent the other day with Aunt Elsebet. The girls picked blueberries, and ran around her barn. This morning, I woke up at LOS's place in Vermont to see deer grazing in the field. Tomorrow, over to FoilMormor's. The girls are swimming, running, biking, museuming, and generally having a great time. My family seems happy and well, and god, it's nice to be someplace where you need to wear a sweater in the evening.

Lucky

Despite the hardships of the last few years, I realize how lucky I am. Right now, for whatever reason, I feel the need to list the good in my life. So here goes.

1--I have wonderful friends, here (Innana, SNV) and around the world (Francesca, CookieDear, Kira -- even though I've never met Kira in the flesh, she has been a lifesaver several times).
2--TigerGrrl and DestructoGirl are truly magnificent: smart, healthy, beautiful, strong, and FUNNY.
3--My relationship with my mother is pretty much the best it has ever been, and I'm seeing her in less than two weeks. Yippee!
4--I have sisters.
5--My home, though small, is pleasant and comfortable and in a great community and school district.
6--With a few exceptions, who are outweighed by the norm, I have wonderful neighbors who are becoming friends. One neighbor is making a cake for TigerGrrl's impending eleventh birthday while I make the pizza.
7--The Foilkids' school district is great, and, thank heavens, DestructoGirl is starting full-day kindergarten this fall.
8--The Saintly Babysitter stayed with us up until two months before DG started school. I hear horror stories about child care, but I've never really had to worry. DG now goes to a home day care that she loves (she has lots of friends there). TG is almost beyond day care, and I've let her do a few half days at home alone (given that there are two women within 500 yards of my house home during the day who are TG's friends helps.
9--Cousin Roland and his wife (who nearly died last year in childbirth) had healthy twins through a surrogate. I'm almost done knitting the appropriate gifts.
10--Innana and I had a great day yesterday bopping out to Front Royal, where it was marginally cooler than it is here in the burbs.
11--I have books to read, music to play, projects to knit, trails to bike on, and an ice rink to skate on nearby.

I could go on for quite a while, but I'll stop now.

If You Give A Pig A Pancake (Hilarity Ensues, and Also Disaster)

Once again, I took the girls to Adventure Theatre, along with a five-year old friend of DestructoGirl. To those not familiar with the books* here's the plot synopsis: A child gives a pig a pancake, and nothing good, but lots of fun, happens. Except for it's everything good. DG was in full open throated guffaw mode, and almost eleven-year old TigerGrrl was delighted. Two boys, age thirteen and twelve, rejected the delights offered by Adventure Theatre, and instead opted for exploring Glen Echo Park for the hour that I had the girls at the play. So all and all, it was a success for all concerned.

Holly Twyford, as Felicia the pig, was a delight. She had this great snort when she laughed or was surprised (actually, an oink of sorts) that my girls are still imitating, three days later. They'll chortle, then remember, and add a snort. As an adult, I felt mildly sorry for Brenda Locke, playing the imposed upon child, but she had her own great moments, especially when reading aloud a note from her mother, advising her to take off her helmet before eating her breakfast and then proceeding to stage an imaginary spacecraft atmosphere re-entry and landing.

Both actresses played off each other nicely and have given my daughters epic excuses for why my living room is a disaster area: "Well, I gave a pig a pancake, then she needed some syrup, then she got sticky, then she needed a bath, then she needed some bubble bath . . ." This is not helped by the fact that my daughters are now the proud owners of two guinea pigs, one quite pig like, and the other a shy retiring type. And no, they aren't fed pancakes or given bubble baths. So clearly, all the responsibility for the mess that is my house rests on the shoulders of Mss. Twyford and Locke, who really should volunteer to help clean up, both here and at the stage.

The whole production is a blast, but the best part for the little ones is the epic mess (or, as TG said: "Housekeeping fail, Mama. They must be related to you.") left behind when the show ends. I actually worried what would happen when the little girl's mother got home (or her not-quite-all-there father descended to actually check out what his daughter was up to). All three girls were laughing and chortling and trying to decide what would happen next after Felicia built a tree house and decorated it using Laura's mother's sheets. But clearly, one just had to start imagining: first, they gave a pig a pancake, and then . . . .

I would be remiss if I didn't mention the delightful set, with a piano and deep-soaking bathtub, both of which appear out of kitchen appliances when needed. Many a time, I've been feeling grungy in the kitchen thinking "Why can't I have a bathtub here?" This problem is solved in this production

*If You Give a Pig a Pancake, If You Give a Mouse a Cookie, If You Give a Cat a Cupcake.

Day Trip

It's time for a mini-road trip with Innana, probably to McKay's. It's a beautiful day and we're heading out. Of course, this has been a hectic, stressful week, with the Saintly Babysitter departing (sigh) to a new family with babies. The girls are with PdeFF, so I'm having a relaxing weekend, no matter what. Not to put any pressure on me.

Why I'm Glad I'm Divorced

TG has started her own small kid-business (something like car-washing), and has put up flyers around our neighborhood to drum up business. A potential client called yesterday, and her ten-year old heart was all a-flutter with the idea of earning $5. The client called my cell phone, of course. To discuss what needed to be done, TG made an appointment in the evening, after I got home from work. I had to let PdeFF know, because it was his night to have the girls.

He blew a gasket, worrying about abduction, predators, whether TG could handle the responsibility (??? -- of course she can), etc. It took 20 minutes of sweet-talking to talk him down.

I made him promise that he wouldn't pop TG's balloon with "Are you responsible enough". Setting up her own little business shows that she's responsible enough, and she'll get more responsible as she does more.

We met the potential client, and he's a client now, and starting Monday, TG's a money-making ten-year old.

And I feel enormous relief that I'm no longer completely tied to someone who can't distinguish between hyped up media worry of crime and opportunity for his kid (plus her showing buckets of initiative).