Pessimism

Those of you who know me well may have figured out that I am an eternal pessimist. I try not to be, but I often get wrapped up in my vision of the worst, and can't imagine anything but that vision happening. That's where I am right now.

I have to get a job. A full time job, probably in the city. Being a one income family is not working anymore, and we are more than broke. Our bills and groceries in a month add up to more than we bring in. It sucks. So, I'm going to get a job. We talked about me getting a job here in town, most likely at the gas station. I have decided though, that if I am going to get a job, I want it to be a decent one. So, I am looking at clerical type positions in the city. I type quickly and well, and I have lots of customer service experience, so I should be able to find something in time. The problem is, I really, REALLY don't want to work. It's not that I'm lazy, it's that the thought of someone else raising my daughters makes me physically ill. The things I will miss out on, the fact that I'll only be with them two days a week while someone else gets to be with them the rest of the time, the fact that I won't be around for Mary's first day of school, for the day that Frannie decides to actually walk on her feet, I'll miss all the funny conversations, the fights, the fun. It really upsets me. I couldn't sleep last night, this morning I keep crying...I'm a mess, and so far I've only applied for three jobs. I hate it, I don't want it, and I don't have a choice. Blargh.

Also, we ate meat that has since been recalled. I'm not thrilled about that either. I am a bit of a hypochondriac (though not as much as I used to be), and when Mary had some gastrointestinal upset this morning the first thing that went through my brain was "OMG! It's listeriosis! We're all going to DIE!" I quickly calmed myself, but I'm still a little worried. I suspect her tummy problems had more to do with McDonalds for lunch yesterday and the stinking heat, but I'm still watching her like a hawk. Symptoms of Listeria poisoning can show up anywhere from 2 to 90 days, so I have a lot of time to worry. Of course, when I'm working, I guess the babysitter'll have to watch out for that, eh?

Arranged Marriages

I have a friend in town who has two little boys. Her older guy, P, is a year older than Mary, and her younger is about 6 months younger than Frannie-Lou-Who. Mary and P have played together a few times and they seem to get along pretty well. P's Mother's name is not Charlie, but that's what we call her for some odd reason. I keep telling Mary, "Her name is R___," and Mary says "Yes! Charlie IS a Beautiful Princess Mama!" So, we call her Charlie. Anyways, Charlie shared a couple of conversations she had with P, and I would like to share them with you.

P's Musings on Relationships and Marriage.

P - Mom (Charlie is a Mom, unlike me, I am a Mum), so, when you were kids, Dad was your brother, right?
Charlie - Ah, no. No, Dad was never my brother.
P - Oh. So, dad was your brother?
Charlie - No. Let's not spread that rumour around town. Dad was NEVER my brother.
P - Oh, okay. So you and dad were friends when you were little?
Charlie - Yes, that's right. Daddy and I were friends when we were younger, before we got married.
P - So, you were Daddy's girlfriend when before you were married?
Charlie - Yup.
P - Oh! Just like Mary is my girlfriend, right?
Charlie - Uh. I guess so, yeah.
P - That's great! When Mary and I grow up we are going to get married, just like you and Dad!
Charlie - Really?
P - Yup!


P's Further Musings on Relationships, Age, and Why a Knowledge of Geography is Important when Considering Marriage.

P - Hey Mom, was Dad older than you when you were kids?
Charlie - Well, is Dad older than me now?
P - Yeah.
Charlie - Well, what do you think?
P - Mom, I don't know. Was he?
Charlie - Yes, Dad was older than me when we were little, just like he is now.
P - Huh. So, I'll always be a year older than Mary, right?
Charlie - Yes, you will always be older than Mary.
P - That's Great!
Charlie - Why is that great?
P - Because when Mary and I get older, we are going to get married! But only if she knows where Regina is.
Charlie - Why does she need to know where Regina is to marry you?
P - (Rolls eyes) Mom! Because Regina is where you go. When you want to get married you have to go to Regina.


So, there you have it. So long as Mary can find Regina, she's got a husband in waiting.

Things are going well this week in spite of the miserable heat. On Saturday evening the Prairie Players had a gathering at the farm of one of the members. It was a grand old time, though I'm thinking that I am far too old to consume as much coconut rum as I did that night. Poor Mary and Frances did not have a fully attentive mother on Sunday.

Potty training is going Very Well. We still have occasional accidents, but puddles are rarer and rarer these days, and Mary is more and more willing to go on the toilet. Yay! Our garbage in the last two weeks has been cut pretty much in half now that we are not using diapers for Mary, though she still wears a pull up at night. She is becoming even more fiercely independent now that she uses the potty, which is a blessing and a curse.

I have decided on a Project to keep me busy, but I'm not sure how it will work. I got a book full of recipe's for artisan sourdough breads, and I thought I might take a page from Goody's book and work my way through the book, baking one bread a week. My problem is that these breads require 5 different sourdough starters, and all sorts of fancy flours, not to mention some equipment that I don't have. I wouldn't have a problem with the starters if I had someone else who would like to take what I don't use and bake their own bread, but the closest sourdough baker I know is Goody, and Nebraska is a long way to ship fermenting flour, you know? Anyways, once I get a baking stone for my oven I will get more organized, I can't do much without one of those anyways.

Not much else is going on. I'm going to apply for a part time job at the local grocery store, if I can figure out how to write a resume when I haven't had a job in four years. If anyone out there can give me some advice, it'd sure be appreciated!

The Potty Balloon

Well hello there! I was going to name this post "Panties!" but I figured that might draw an internet icky or two here to leer at pictures of my children. There are Websites!! Targeting YOUR CHILDREN!!!!!! OMFG!!!!! (That was for you, Goody).

Ahem. Anyhoo. Potty training is going...well, it's going, and that's a good thing, right? I have stuck to my guns and Mary wears panties during the day, except when we go shopping in the city. We have good days and we have bad days, but on average she gets to the potty about 50% of the time. Not so bad. As long as I remind her to sit, she will now use the potty, but if I'm not on her, we have messes. Today was a very good day, only 2 accidents. Yesterday was a very, VERY bad day. At about four in the afternoon, I walked into my terrifyingly silent hallway and found Frances sitting in the middle of a giant puddle of warm urine, splashing happily. All the books say not to get angry or yell, but GAWD is it hard sometimes.

Ian is working a lot these days, which is kind of crummy because Christ am I lonely, but is a good thing because...well, you know how lonely I am? We are more broke right now than I am lonely. Which is a lot. The mortgage payment this month is going to bounce, we owe the town $2500 in property taxes and $300 for water and sewage. Amazing, where is this money going to come from? I have been considering getting a job, but because I am a big, dumb, uneducated schmoo, any job I get will pay next to nothing, and not be worth it after subtracting daycare and gas to get me into the city. Besides which, if I get a job, hate it, and quit, we won't have the write off for taxes come spring, even if I only work one day. I may apply for a job at a book store though, I think I would like that. If I'm going to be torn away from my darling children (who I have not yet sold to the gypsies, tempting as the thought may be), I want to have a job that I don't hate, you know?

To be honest, I'm not THAT lonely, I guess. I mean, I'm miserable, and I wish we had never left Edmonton (biggest mistake I've made in a long time, that was), but things are getting better. The girls and I spent saturday afternoon at Cenobyte's place in Lumsden, and it was extremely pleasant. Mary and her littlest guy, E, got along like they have been buddies for years, and I had a nice time chatting with Ceno and her adorable husband. It's possible that this whole working two days a week thing might actually be good for me. I may meet people. Adult people. Adult people who will be my friends, possibly even people with whom I have something in common. That'd be nice, real nice.

Subconscious

I had a bizarre dream last night. Well, maybe not too terribly bizarre if you take into consideration the amount of times I have watched Dr. Horrible's SIng Along Blog in the last week or so. Anyways, I dreamed that I was at a....thing... an award show perhaps. All I know is that it was televised, and there were lots of famous people. I had fantastic seats, but I was there on my own because Ian was at home watching the girls. At one point Nathan Fillion walked past, and no one but me knew who he was. I jumped up and yelled "that's Nathan Fillion!" and waved. He smiled and waved back to me, but no one else noticed. Then, Neil Patrick Harris walked past, looked up at me, and said "Hi there Jenn!" Then NPH walked over to Nathan and said "I need to talk to this fan." NPH came back to me and struck up a conversation like we had been best friends all our lives. Then things got odd, and I was making out with NPH. I remember I kept saying that Ian was watching on TV, but NPH told me that he would never notice. Then I told him that I thought he was gay, and he said that he had said he was gay as a cover, but really he wasn't. Then more stuff happened that I can't really remember, and I ended up marrying him and having his baby via invetrofertalization because he really was gay, and while he enjoyed kissing me he didn't want to have sex.

Odd, I know. Of course, NPH is the first famous boy I ever had naughty dreams about in my life. I adored Doogie Howser M.D. when I was in my early teens, and had a raging crush on NPH then. Dr. Horrible has just reminded me of how much I adore him, I guess.

Anyways, back to the real world. We took the girls to Buffalo Days, Regina's annual summer fair. It went far better than we expected for many reasons, one of the largest being the fact that we showed up Sunday morning when they don't charge admission. Yay! That was twenty dollars in our pockets. The girls were amazingly well behaved, Mary had a blast and was absolutely fearless on the rides, and us adults enjoyed ourselves too.

Ian has a lot of time off right now, the long weekend has worked out nicely with his summer schedule. We have thrown caution to the wind and put Mary into real panties now, no more diapers and pull ups. So far we have had no luck whatsoever, and lots of messes. She still refuses to use the toilet, and while I hate to sound like a broken record here, I'm at my wits end. Nothing at all has worked, we've tried every suggestion in the book. Now I guess all we can do is be consistent, keep at her and try my hardest not to loose my temper.

Other than that, not much is going on. Today I made hamburger buns, my first attempt at buns, and they turned out perfectly. Tomorrow we are cleaning house, and possibly going to the swimming pool. Next week I'm going to try to convince Ian that we should go to Craven and buy some farm fresh veggies.