Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Stretch Update and a Little TMI

When last we chatted (and by chatted, I mean I spewed and you dutifully listened) we were in crisis once again, regarding Stretch and her social skills.

As an update to that story, I thought I would let ya'll know what I did and what the result was at the end of the day.

I emailed the principal of the school and relayed the scene that had occurred the night before for her. I emphasized the fact that we have asked for feed back several times throughout the past three years where Stretch was concerned. I also made a point of mentioning the fact that the birthday party invites were scarce for her, as well. I was very diplomatic, but also passionate about the situation.

It was late in the day when I sent the email and honestly, I wasn't sure she'd even read it prior to Monday - but within the hour, the principal of the school called me at work. She was horrified to hear that "hate" had been used at a school function and that she wished Hubs had come and found her ... that she would have "turned that scene upside down", had she witnessed anything even remotely that mean. She apologized many times, but insisted that Stretch had been doing very well, socially speaking, this past year. 

We actually talked for some time, and during the discussion I realized (with little doubt) that she does, in fact, know my child - very well. The nuances of Stretch's personality (and she made a point to highlight the really positive stuff - like how artistic, articulate and intelligent she is) that she referred to put me right at ease, and I knew for sure that I wasn't being placated. We left our conversation with the understanding that she would speak with Stretch's teacher on Monday, and I would speak with Stretch over the weekend and we'd compare notes Monday afternoon.

Monday afternoon came, and as promised, so did the call. It was at this point that she confirmed that there are definitely two girls that Stretch tends to chum with - and that she was making every effort to place all three in the same class next year. There was some discussion about Stretch's inability to calm herself down when she gets emotional, and the suggestion was made that we possibly seek some help from our doctor ... perhaps get her someone to talk to ... you know, to learn how to self monitor/calm. So, I have made an appointment to discuss it with our doc ... although MY doc is taking the damned summer off - so this will be a new person to me (not really thrilled about that).

When I had spoken to Stretch over the weekend, she was pretty much oblivious to the slight where the whole mob scene was concerned. I asked her about the boy who was saying he hated her and she told me they were "arch enemies" and that she would be "dishing out some pay back" to him. Go Stretch! So ... I guess her ego is intact. Not that she honestly seems to have any issues with her ego ... which is why I often assume her tales of not having friends are a tool with which to "work" her parents. But then to witness something like that scene at the fair ... *shudders*.

From here, we move on to Summer Camp. At least one of the two girls she chums with will be going to the same camp - so that's a good thing. Hopefully with another Summer under her belt, grade 3/4 (because it is a split class next year) will be a little easier on her.

In other news ... it was a superb weekend at my house. My meds have kicked into full gear and my inner calm has returned. This keeps me in a much better head space both at home and at work. I was actually a fun mom this weekend - taking them shopping with me, allowing them to actually help cook the Father's Day brekkie. It was good.

Hubs had a good weekend, too and was even heard to exclaim: GAWD, Dani ... you are like going to bed with a 'strange woman' lately ... well D'UH! I have ALWAYS been a bit strange - you just catching on now? Though, that wasn't what he meant. 

So ... uh ... er ... thanks? (I think) Not really sure how a wife of 9 years should react to a comment like that ... but I am choosing to take it as a big ol' compliment.

... and that wraps the TMI portion of our programming. Hope your week is clipping along at a good speed and everyone is happy.

D - out!

Friday, June 17, 2011

Hubs Said F*@k

No, no ... you don't understand. My husband does not use profanity like I do. He's a good Irish Catholic Newfie boy. He says "shit" now and then ... but fuck? Nuh-uh.

I did the bi-weekly grocery shopping last night on my way home from work. I friggen detest the grocery store like the plague, but it has to be done - and apparently I have to do it. Hubs had agreed to take the girls to their school's Spring Fling. Aw ... pity, I was going to miss all the fun! (Suddenly spending two hours of my time and most of my pay cheque in the grocery store didn't seem quite so bad.)

Anyhoo ... when I got home, they were back and I noticed immediately that something was wrong with my husband. You need to know something about this man ... he has two moods: His usual patient, work-a-day self ... and horny. That's pretty much it. I have enough moods for all of us, so it really works quite well. But last night, he was pissed. Like, really pissed.

I asked him several times to spill it, and he just looked at me and said it had nothing to do with him and me ... 


So ... I began the quiz portion of the evening.
Me: Did the kids upset you?
Hubs: No
Me: Did you and Mom get into it?
Hubs: No
Me: Something with the business?
Hubs: No
Me: For the love of GOD, would you just TELL ME WHAT'S WRONG??

He takes me outside on the deck and in fairly hushed tones starts telling me about an incident at the Spring Fling. Our oldest, Stretch, had volunteered to sit up in the dunk tank. Apparently some little fucker from grade 4 showed up on the scene and after announcing to the crowd that "he HATES Stretch" starts pelting balls at the target and in the meantime, gets a group of children to start chanting that they "hate Stretch".

Now, I would be fibbing if I said that this didn't ruffle my fur, but there are a few additional pieces of info that need to be placed for you to get the whole picture.

We have been concerned about Stretch's socialization since she began at that school three years ago. We have had numerous meetings with both teachers and principals regarding this concern. Each and every time, we are told there is no reason for concern ... that she has found her niche group and seems happy in it.

Stretch is a highly intelligent ... but highly strung person. She's got a heart the size of Texas about some things, and is oddly cold about others ... more than anything (and God forgive me for saying this about my child, but) ... she's as annoying as holy hell. She is. I can see how she could grate the nerves of even the most determined child. She's constantly singing and doesn't often listen when someone asks her to stop. (Not that these are really great reasons to hate someone ... but some kids are assholes - maybe mine is seen as one of those.) The point, I am having trouble making here is this: We have expressed concern about Stretch and her ability to make (and keep) friends - on numerous occasions. Hubs and I want her to 'be herself', but if there are genuine issues with the way she is relating, maybe we can help coach her ... so, if we are continually being told there is no problem ... how does one proceed?
And yet - she repeatedly comes home telling us that everyone hates her (can't imagine where she'd ever get that idea) and that 'so and so' won't play with her and on and on. Add that to the fact that she was invited to only two birthday parties all year ... and you have yourself a real reason for concern.

This was the part where my husband started to use the expletive like it was salt in a shaker and he was eating french fries. He has a point. Why in the eff, after us repeatedly asking for guidance from the effing people who spend the entire effing day with our children - would we witness something like this, and nobody else has managed to see anything of the like in the previous 10 months (or 3 years, for that matter). And how in the eff, in a society so focused on anti bullying and respectful behavior, could a GROUP of children be chanting that they HATE another child - and NOT ONE staffer at the school notices?

I mean ... I got "spoken to" because my daughter was "bugging" one of the boys. Not hitting, or kicking or being mean in any way ... just hanging around and bothering him. Seriously. (This was the incident that cemented the relationship with my cow of a neighbor.)

Now, one could say that perhaps there was a small over reaction on my Hubs' part ...  as stated, kids can be assholes, and often are. But, the more I think about it, the more I am tempted to march my ass into that principal's office and become "that mother". Why in the eff didn't they notice? It was pretty damned obvious. And I expect it is every bit as obvious on the play ground at recess ... aren't there people outside with these kids watching them?

What tha hell?

Thursday, June 16, 2011

...and the Universe Speaks

So I had a little rant yesterday.

Actually, truth be told ... the rant I had was quite extensive and its composition started on Monday, but not everyone was subjected to the full measure.

I got home last night to an empty house. Highly unusual. Hubs had taken Stretch and Shorty to town to do some shipping for his business, and were apparently running late. Mom was staying in the city with 'the man' for the night. I immediately began the process of preparing the evening meal.

A short time later, Hubs and the girls pulled in the drive and within moments, the girls burst through the door exclaiming they had brought home dinner. A lovely surprise! (Although I had started cooking already, it was easily refrigerated and saved for tonight's dinner) Yay!

Then, as we sat and consumed our BBQ chicken and tators, a knock came at the door. It was our tenant... giving his notice to vacate.

Can I get a WHOOT WHOOT!!

Soooo, Mr Mini Wheat, what that means is come the end of July, I'll have my house back. I could weep, I am so happy! This thing with my mom needs a change. I love my mom ... don't get me wrong - she was a fabulous mother and I owe her plenty ... but this relationship is bending under the strain. Better to make this change while we are still okay (at least on the surface ... because she is completely oblivious to the way I am feeling right now).

She is dragging her heels about the move ... and who could blame her, really? She's got a pretty sweet deal. I cook every meal, do the grocery shopping, cleaning and so on. Who wouldn't want to stay - right? I'm also going to be packing up my sister's crap and turning her room into a simple guest room. She can sleep there if absolutely necessary, but her crap is not going to be living there anymore. Then, Shorty will get moved out of Stretch's room and she'll be getting her own big room all to herself. 

I've already started shopping for paint! Shorty's gonna get a sky painted on her ceiling. We're stoked!

It's good, too ... because now we'll have two spare bedrooms and the girls each in their own rooms. Not that we get a lot of company ... but in the event any of my bleeps decide to come East ... you know ... I'll have somewhere for them - and extra food and alcohol *sheepish grin*. (So - did I dangle that carrot properly?)

Now, all I need to do is actually get the job I am applying for today ... and we could be all set! It's a government job, so it's rather unlikely ... but I'm applying none the less. I'm so nervous applying anywhere because Narci knows nearly everybody (and now with the addition of Minion - he seems to know everybody else) - and any time I have actively started seeking alternate employment in the past, he seems to find out about it ... and then makes my life even more hellish than before.

I can't see how I can possibly keep at this as it is, though. I am miserable. So ... here goes nuthin'. Wish me luck.

On a different topic, I am sincerely disappointed with the fans in Vancouver last night. I mean, I would have liked to see the Canucks take the cup as much as the next guy ... but that sort of behavior is unacceptable! Shame on you!!

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

If You Give a Pig a Pancake...

Anyone who has had the pleasure of reading regularly to a child, likely knows the story I've premised in my title. For those of you who do not have that pleasure, it is loosely based on the old adage: If you give an inch, they'll take a mile.

Is everyone tired of hearing me bitch and moan about my rather wonderful life yet? 



Because I am about to bitch about my otherwise rather wonderful life ... and if you can't stomach it, you really should go now.

Run along.


So ... my weekend. I had a very lengthy purge typed out on this page regarding every slight perpetrated against me this past weekend. A very lengthy purge. I have opted to spare you, my bleeps, the eye strain.

You have AA to thank for this act of charity on my part.

Everyone take a moment and say "Thank you, AA ... for takin' one for the team". Seriously ... it was a long and painful rant. Thanks AA.

So that you don't feel totally left out of my pity party (heaven forbid such an atrocity) I have conceded to provide you with more of a Coles Notes version and hope that this format takes the edge off the scrimey, self pitying tone that my original post carried.

~My mother and sister pestered me into having a dinner party for my sister's birthday.
~When asked which day, I stated Sunday... they wanted Saturday ... Saturday, it was.
~Mom decided she wanted lobster, and when I wasn't on board for that, she got pissy with me (namely, because she wanted me to pay for them).
~Comments were made ... many, many comments that are grinding my soul and making my chest burn.
~Brand new boyfriends showed up ... prepared to spend the night ... and when both my husband and myself stated that they could not sleep "together" in the bedroom directly adjacent to my 6 and 8 year old daughters, there was an "issue" with our rules.

 I could go on ... and did in great detail, but what I have learned is: It really doesn't help. I'm still every bit as mad as I was. And it doesn't end there ... nope - there is more.

Two days ago, Minion took a call pertaining to the private mortgage fund we have started up. He spoke to the client for about 3 - 5 minutes and then emailed me instructions to call this person back and take an application.

Perhaps this does not carry the impact on you, that it did to me. But WHOTHEFUCKAREYOU to be a) issuing orders to me, b) too lazy to take your own fucking application and, c) just in general - who THA FUCK R U? I have my hands full enough with Narci as a boss ... I do NOT need another!

THEN - after I called and left a message for this client to call me back ... Narci comes to me the next morning and is all over me about whether or not I had gotten back to this guy. Uh ... HULLO, arsehole ... I have worked for you for seven bloody years, here ... how often do I just simply NOT call clients? If it was so goddamned important that an application be taken "post haste", why in the livin' friggen fuck didn't MINION TAKE IT??? And I DID call the guy - he WASN'T AVAILABLE.

I can't do this. I can't. Ima break in half ... or possibly quarters ... or just fracture into splinters soon. I've been struggling with the whole medication issue, but honestly ... I just started taking my anti depressants again on Monday ... in the hope that I can numb some of this stuff. I'd have taken almost anything to make this stop. It hasn't worked yet. Nothing does. Not even self medicating (with alcohol). 

I'm not sleeping, I'm not able to eat (and I can ALWAYS eat). It's like there is this giant ball of static electricity stuck in the pit of my stomach. I can't swallow anything - there's no room for food with all of this anger in there. Cripes almighty, I can't even poop, I'm so friggen uptight.  I need sleep. If for no other reason, just to escape for a little while. My husband is starting to have that squinky "I'm getting scared for you" look on his face.

He even sent me flowers at work last week in the hopes of brightening my day ... but honestly, I need my mother out of my house (and my sister in tow) and I need a new job... and maybe a vacation away would be beneficial. Nowhere crazy ... just away. If our damned trailer was fixed, I'd be quite happy just camping - if the G-D rain would ever let the hell up!

Stop the world, people ... Dani needs a pee break!

I know there is no advice out there that is going to be any different than what I have said up there and what anybody has said to me for years ... get out of that job ... don't live with your mother .... DUH! I know ... but it just isn't so simple as all that. I am looking for jobs. I'm even willing to take less money than I make here - just to be free of the toxicity. Plus, we are trying to evict our latest set of "Bisitors" so that Mom can move back into her own place. Nothing seems to wanna work at this point ... certainly not fast enough to save me from fracture.

It's just so bloody frustrating and I feel so trapped - like a caged animal, I just pace ... back and forth ... back and forth.

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Chronicles of Narcissus - Troubles with Minion

So ...

My boss is at the Symposium for Mortgage Professionals today. 

Just so we are all on the same page here ... let me point out an interesting factoid: I am the only mortgage professional that works in this company. 

During this Symposium, there are numerous underwriters, fulfillment specialists and business development managers that are flown in from all over the country to rub elbows and play nice with the little cogs (aka - people like me) that make the machine called mortgage brokering run all smooth-like. It is an opportunity to meet these people - face to face ... and cement the relationships that have been growing over the phone and via email for (in my case) the past SEVEN YEARS (with this company - 2 with another brokerage).

Now, I will admit that this event does happen every year. It's called "CAAMP" (which is an acronym for Canadian Association of Accredited Mortgage Professionals ... and its name is a little on the 'campy' side, really ... especially when every second person you talk to asks if you are going to 'CAAMP' this year ... but I digress). I have never gone in any of the past 9 years within this industry. Mostly because I felt like a troll and preferred to be the sessy voice on the other end of the phone ... or the highly talented, sassy email composer on the other end of the computer to these people ... I felt much safer wrapped up in the mystery of imagination.

But this year is different. This year, I am 92 pounds lighter ... and feeling notably less 'troll-like'. THIS year, I WANTED to go. I even RSVP'd to an event that was being put on by one of my lenders. I had originally planned to attend, then my friend (who also works in this industry) and I were going to go splits on a hotel room and get up this morning (all hung over) and hit the rest of the day's events.

Here is a news flash ... I am NOT attending the CAAMP National Symposium.

Do you wanna know who is? Minion

... and Eyeore McSooky-pants. 

Can I get a "Why, Bambi ... why would Narci, Minion and Eyeore need to attend a mortgage symposium with all of the people that ONLY I work with EVERY SINGLE WORKING DAY OF MY LIFE?"

Narci ... okay, he is the broker of record ... even though he wouldn't know how to put a mortgage together to save his life ... but Minion? He's nothing but a ... a ... MINION! W-T-F??? And Eyeore ... other than the fact that he, too, possesses the "Y" chromosome, has no reason to be at a MORTGAGE Symposium ... he is an INVESTMENT SPECIALIST!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! W-T-F??!!! Not only that, but it costs nearly DOUBLE for them to go than it would for me. Because I am a bloody member of the Association, it would have been $180 for me, but it is over $300 for them. Yet, Narci declined to pay for me ... and declined to grant me leave from the asylum for the day to attend (if I wanted to pay for myself).

I reiterate: W-T-F?!

I told that stupid ass I wanted to attend.

I simply do not understand why I am not in attendance. And better yet, why in the hell THEY are.

Anger is not a pretty emotion... and rage is really not good for the complexion. I realize that in this office, I need to pick my battles ... but this is seriously corn-holing itself up my ass!

All of this on the heels of catching Minion forwarding MY emails to HIS in-box.



He's been here for FIVE FUCKING MINUTES and I have been here for SEVEN YEARS!!!

And, I caught him - RED HANDED! Forwarding my emails to HIS IN-BOX!!! Do you have any idea how hard of a bitch slap that was to me? I have given part of my soul to this god-forsaken den of Satan ... and this is how I am repaid for my loyalty? For my 'sticktoitivness'? SERIOUSLY? You are fucking spying on me?

I wouldn't be the slightest bit surprised if every keystroke I make is being recorded right now ... and you know what??? I CARE NOT!!

FIRE ME, MO-FO!! And ya better hurry hard, ass wipe - 'coz I am just about ready to tell ya'll to shove it where the sun don't shine.