I've been busy.
I wrapped up my marketing plan for class; I wrote my thesis. Several hundred pages of writing, proofing and revising later, I just didn't feel like blogging.
Then I was sick.
I'm better now, and happy to have had a writing break.
Holidays are upon us. The Mommy-Tracked kids have:
1) Placed first chair at district orchestra competition
2) Lost several teeth
3) Gotten bitten by the "reading bug" (if you have old Encyclopedia Browns you want to get rid of, let me know. I have a six-year-old who would love them.)
4) Decided that they love all Princess stuff. And the "spicy" JoJos (also known as the seasonal Peppermint ones. Oh, ye who live in the land of Trader Joe's, if you want to get a cheap gift for the Mommy-Tracked kids, there ya go. Boxes of JoJoes.)
Other things are perking and brewing. I'm getting ready to pitch a book. I'm rethinking my freelance business and planning to retool it a bit. I have one semester of class remaining until my master's. Praise be.
If I don't get back on the blog before the holidays: Merry Christmas to all of you (and Merry whatever you celebrate, too). See you on the flip side in the new year.
17 December 2008
25 November 2008
Update: The car lives
Yay! A fix, a bill, and well, I have to live without AC for however long I drive this baby, but at least we don't have to find a way to fund another car payment.
20 November 2008
No wheels
The trusty car I've had for 12 years is currently sitting at the dealership.
Nothing huge: A belt snapped. Said belt runs the power steering. YOU try driving a manual transmission without power steering. Not easy.
It is fixable; the dealer is backed up, though. It could be another day, though. This job is fussy and a PITA to fix. I cringe to think of the labor on this bill. The parts are nothing, cost wise.
However, it is tempting to consider a new car. I hate sinking $$ into an older car. I've been burned more than once. If the CR-V hadn't died last year, my car would have been replaced. Now, it has to hang in at least another two or three years. Maybe more, if this economy doesn't get better.
Sigh. I love my car. I hate spending money. I really hate not having wheels to get around. Carpooling gets old when your husband doesn't get out of work before 6 p.m. on a good night.
Nothing huge: A belt snapped. Said belt runs the power steering. YOU try driving a manual transmission without power steering. Not easy.
It is fixable; the dealer is backed up, though. It could be another day, though. This job is fussy and a PITA to fix. I cringe to think of the labor on this bill. The parts are nothing, cost wise.
However, it is tempting to consider a new car. I hate sinking $$ into an older car. I've been burned more than once. If the CR-V hadn't died last year, my car would have been replaced. Now, it has to hang in at least another two or three years. Maybe more, if this economy doesn't get better.
Sigh. I love my car. I hate spending money. I really hate not having wheels to get around. Carpooling gets old when your husband doesn't get out of work before 6 p.m. on a good night.
12 November 2008
The end is near
At least, it is for grad school.
My thesis is due next month. My marketing plan is written (mostly).
I registered for my final class today. I'll do the capstone during the winter 2009 semester (and try and get a publisher interested in my thesis). Then I'm done. Finished.
I have NO idea what I'll do next. I had toyed with the idea of starting a master's in education program, then decided that was insane.
The original plan was to hit the job market. In this economy, I'm not sure I'll get much interest. I'm going to try, but I'm not as hopeful as I was a year ago.
Know anyone who needs an overeducated editor who is an expert on Web 2.0 trends and social networking research? If so, send 'em my way, please.
My thesis is due next month. My marketing plan is written (mostly).
I registered for my final class today. I'll do the capstone during the winter 2009 semester (and try and get a publisher interested in my thesis). Then I'm done. Finished.
I have NO idea what I'll do next. I had toyed with the idea of starting a master's in education program, then decided that was insane.
The original plan was to hit the job market. In this economy, I'm not sure I'll get much interest. I'm going to try, but I'm not as hopeful as I was a year ago.
Know anyone who needs an overeducated editor who is an expert on Web 2.0 trends and social networking research? If so, send 'em my way, please.
07 November 2008
RIP, Murray the Furry
You were a good dog.
You were fuzzy and you shed quite a bit, but you were also patient with the kids.
As a rescue dog, we wondered what we would get when we adopted you. We couldn't have picked a better dog if we tried. You were just the right speed for us: You didn't require much beyond occasional long walks, loving attention, dog treats and pets.
You hated to be brushed.
You loved rolling in the grass, leaves and snow. You especially loved doing it after I gave you a bath.
It is strange to not see your grinning face looking at me in the morning now. You could drive me insane, because I probably would have loved you more had you loved me less. But you were a good dog, even for cat people at heart.
We miss you already.
Love,
Your MommyTracked Family.
You were fuzzy and you shed quite a bit, but you were also patient with the kids.
As a rescue dog, we wondered what we would get when we adopted you. We couldn't have picked a better dog if we tried. You were just the right speed for us: You didn't require much beyond occasional long walks, loving attention, dog treats and pets.
You hated to be brushed.
You loved rolling in the grass, leaves and snow. You especially loved doing it after I gave you a bath.
It is strange to not see your grinning face looking at me in the morning now. You could drive me insane, because I probably would have loved you more had you loved me less. But you were a good dog, even for cat people at heart.
We miss you already.
Love,
Your MommyTracked Family.
06 November 2008
Gobama
My kids are thrilled beyond belief that Obama won.
I'm thrilled that they were able to see history being made. C1, sort of, grasps what happened. She was listening to John Lewis being interviewed after the election was called; his voice cracking as he tried to speak said more to us than anything he commented about in words.
C2 was impossible to wake, though I tried. The next morning, as I woke him for school, I told him. He woke up with a smile on his face.
My kids have friends of all colors and creeds. We've taught them that character is more important that the color of anyone's skin. I'm glad that I've been proved right.
I know there is quite a bit of work ahead for President Obama and his team. I don't have rose-colored glasses: I know we are in for some difficult times. But I honestly believe that for this moment, we picked the best person for the job.
I'm thrilled that they were able to see history being made. C1, sort of, grasps what happened. She was listening to John Lewis being interviewed after the election was called; his voice cracking as he tried to speak said more to us than anything he commented about in words.
C2 was impossible to wake, though I tried. The next morning, as I woke him for school, I told him. He woke up with a smile on his face.
My kids have friends of all colors and creeds. We've taught them that character is more important that the color of anyone's skin. I'm glad that I've been proved right.
I know there is quite a bit of work ahead for President Obama and his team. I don't have rose-colored glasses: I know we are in for some difficult times. But I honestly believe that for this moment, we picked the best person for the job.
27 October 2008
M-I-Z,
Z-O-U!!
Family Mommy-tracked was up at Mizzou this weekend for Homecoming. Dad marched in the alumni band. Kids gathered gobs of candy at the parade, then hiked all over campus, climbed on the columns, donned Santa hats for me so I could get a picture for the Christmas cards, tossed a plastic football on the Quad while I basked in sunshine, and in general had a great time.
Things have changed: We bypassed the long line at the Berg for the Noodles & Co. next door. Quieter, food the kids would eat, and we got free footballs. There was whining about the wait for a game that started at 5 p.m., but once in the stadium, C1, C2, and C3 were all about the football.
We sat with the alumni band, next to Marching Mizzou. The eldest was watching not only the game, but also the clarinet section. I could tell she was thinking six years ahead. (Can you imagine?)
The last time we tried this, C3 was in a Snugli. C2 was 2.5. It was not pretty. This time around, it went better. C2 had to be told to not shout at the top of his lungs "You can do better!!' at the Mizzou defenders after a bad play. :0
C1 was explaining football to C2. C3 was all about cheering and checking out the cheerleaders (she was in her own cute cheerleader outfit). All three knew all the words to all the cheers. It was amazing how well they did.
It helped that it was a nice night, not too cool. It helped that the Tigers decimated Colorado, 58-0.
But I have to say, I think we made some great memories all around.
Family Mommy-tracked was up at Mizzou this weekend for Homecoming. Dad marched in the alumni band. Kids gathered gobs of candy at the parade, then hiked all over campus, climbed on the columns, donned Santa hats for me so I could get a picture for the Christmas cards, tossed a plastic football on the Quad while I basked in sunshine, and in general had a great time.
Things have changed: We bypassed the long line at the Berg for the Noodles & Co. next door. Quieter, food the kids would eat, and we got free footballs. There was whining about the wait for a game that started at 5 p.m., but once in the stadium, C1, C2, and C3 were all about the football.
We sat with the alumni band, next to Marching Mizzou. The eldest was watching not only the game, but also the clarinet section. I could tell she was thinking six years ahead. (Can you imagine?)
The last time we tried this, C3 was in a Snugli. C2 was 2.5. It was not pretty. This time around, it went better. C2 had to be told to not shout at the top of his lungs "You can do better!!' at the Mizzou defenders after a bad play. :0
C1 was explaining football to C2. C3 was all about cheering and checking out the cheerleaders (she was in her own cute cheerleader outfit). All three knew all the words to all the cheers. It was amazing how well they did.
It helped that it was a nice night, not too cool. It helped that the Tigers decimated Colorado, 58-0.
But I have to say, I think we made some great memories all around.
17 October 2008
06 October 2008
29 September 2008
24 September 2008
Long month, bright spot
First, it was the cancer diagnosis.
Then, it was some idiots at my workplace who decided it would be brilliant to take their Bid Day Bash off campus to a rural area two counties away. They d@mn near killed a freshman from alcohol poisoning in the process.
Last, my son was diagnosed with eczema. We suspected he had it; a rash that never disappeared confirmed it yesterday.
However, I love our pediatrician.
As she's looking at the poor boy's itchy armpits, she asks about flu mist. I dither, like I always do, then remember, my mom's going to be immunocompromised for months, duh. Yes, I say, we need the mist. My mom starts chemo next month.
Our ped immediate stops what she is doing, and asks, "How's she doing?" Oh, she's fine, I say. She follows up, looking right in my eyes, "How are *you* doing?"
That's the sign of a good doctor. My well-being immediately reflects on the kids, because my stress trickles down to them.
After saying that while the diagnosis was a shock, I'm okay now, she says that if we need anything, she'll make sure it happens. She's going to make sure we get in for the second shot of flu mist ASAP. She'll have a chat with the eldest at her checkup in a few months, just to reassure her that because Grandma has cancer does NOT mean she'll get it. Our worrywart needs to hear this from someone other than me.
I love our ped. She's one of the best docs we've ever had. So, Dr. K, if you stumble on this, I just want you to know that we appreciate everything you do for us.
Then, it was some idiots at my workplace who decided it would be brilliant to take their Bid Day Bash off campus to a rural area two counties away. They d@mn near killed a freshman from alcohol poisoning in the process.
Last, my son was diagnosed with eczema. We suspected he had it; a rash that never disappeared confirmed it yesterday.
However, I love our pediatrician.
As she's looking at the poor boy's itchy armpits, she asks about flu mist. I dither, like I always do, then remember, my mom's going to be immunocompromised for months, duh. Yes, I say, we need the mist. My mom starts chemo next month.
Our ped immediate stops what she is doing, and asks, "How's she doing?" Oh, she's fine, I say. She follows up, looking right in my eyes, "How are *you* doing?"
That's the sign of a good doctor. My well-being immediately reflects on the kids, because my stress trickles down to them.
After saying that while the diagnosis was a shock, I'm okay now, she says that if we need anything, she'll make sure it happens. She's going to make sure we get in for the second shot of flu mist ASAP. She'll have a chat with the eldest at her checkup in a few months, just to reassure her that because Grandma has cancer does NOT mean she'll get it. Our worrywart needs to hear this from someone other than me.
I love our ped. She's one of the best docs we've ever had. So, Dr. K, if you stumble on this, I just want you to know that we appreciate everything you do for us.
21 September 2008
Cancer strikes us again.
Wondering where I've been? Well, grad school, thesis writing, freelancing and soccer season have kept me busy.
Three weeks ago, I added something heavier to the mix of stuff to do.
My mom was diagnosed with breast cancer at age 58.
She's always been fairly obsessive about getting her mammograms. She had a good friend die after a long fight against breast cancer in the '80s. So when something didn't look right, she went to get checked three weeks ago.
One mammogram, one ultrasound, one biopsy later, she was diagnosed with early stage one cancer on her left side.
The good news: It is stage one. It wasn't in her lymph nodes when she had a mastectomy last week. It's a highly treatable form that was caught early; there's a 95% survival rate.
The bad news: She's going to have chemo. We're waiting on the path report and the oncologists' plan for what mix will work best and how long she'll have to take it.
So, to my girlfriends and other Mommy-Tracked mom readers out there: Go get your baselines done. Now. Today. Before the new year. And be vigilant. My mom's type does not present as a lump. Usually there is no sign. Unless you get it checked out, you could be a lot further along the stages than you'd like.
Add a pink ribbon to your social networking sites for us, and prayers, love and support are welcome. But we aren't going to let this get us down. It's not all bad news; a lot of it is quite good. It will not be much fun for the next few months, but it will be over with and dealt with soon enough.
Three weeks ago, I added something heavier to the mix of stuff to do.
My mom was diagnosed with breast cancer at age 58.
She's always been fairly obsessive about getting her mammograms. She had a good friend die after a long fight against breast cancer in the '80s. So when something didn't look right, she went to get checked three weeks ago.
One mammogram, one ultrasound, one biopsy later, she was diagnosed with early stage one cancer on her left side.
The good news: It is stage one. It wasn't in her lymph nodes when she had a mastectomy last week. It's a highly treatable form that was caught early; there's a 95% survival rate.
The bad news: She's going to have chemo. We're waiting on the path report and the oncologists' plan for what mix will work best and how long she'll have to take it.
So, to my girlfriends and other Mommy-Tracked mom readers out there: Go get your baselines done. Now. Today. Before the new year. And be vigilant. My mom's type does not present as a lump. Usually there is no sign. Unless you get it checked out, you could be a lot further along the stages than you'd like.
Add a pink ribbon to your social networking sites for us, and prayers, love and support are welcome. But we aren't going to let this get us down. It's not all bad news; a lot of it is quite good. It will not be much fun for the next few months, but it will be over with and dealt with soon enough.
09 September 2008
26 August 2008
Amen, sister!
"Because we want our children — and all children in this nation — to know that the only limit to the height of your achievements is the reach of your dreams and your willingness to work for them."
~Michelle Obama, Democratic National Convention, Monday, Aug. 25, 2008
~Michelle Obama, Democratic National Convention, Monday, Aug. 25, 2008
21 August 2008
Sniff. Sniff. Not ready. At all.
We just dropped our baby off at preschool this morning. She took her Dora "packpack" and her Tinkerbell lunchbox in hand, tugged my husband across the parking lot, and happily marched off to Mrs. McE's room.
Just like her brother, she practically shoved us out the door. High fives, hugs, kisses, then see ya.
Four years ago to the day, I was bemoaning the aches and pains of pregnancy; I was wishing she'd pop out and spare me misery. How on earth did she grow so fast? It's been a blur.
Her brother ran into his first grade room, hugged his teacher, and then went to hang up his backpack. I might as well not have showed up. I was a pack horse to carry school supplies, that's it.
Our eldest, all long and lanky and beautiful, raced up the steps to the level where the junior high is. She's a 7th grader. So not ready for this. It seems like just yesterday I was fighting with school administrators to have her skip a year. I wouldn't wish that back, because she's smart and witty and needs to be challenged academically. But she's so mature. So old.
They are still my babies, but they are so not my babies any more.
Just like her brother, she practically shoved us out the door. High fives, hugs, kisses, then see ya.
Four years ago to the day, I was bemoaning the aches and pains of pregnancy; I was wishing she'd pop out and spare me misery. How on earth did she grow so fast? It's been a blur.
Her brother ran into his first grade room, hugged his teacher, and then went to hang up his backpack. I might as well not have showed up. I was a pack horse to carry school supplies, that's it.
Our eldest, all long and lanky and beautiful, raced up the steps to the level where the junior high is. She's a 7th grader. So not ready for this. It seems like just yesterday I was fighting with school administrators to have her skip a year. I wouldn't wish that back, because she's smart and witty and needs to be challenged academically. But she's so mature. So old.
They are still my babies, but they are so not my babies any more.
18 August 2008
Nine down, three to go
Straight As.
I rock!
(Oh, and said paper that needed to be revised for a conference submission? Still haven't done it. Will do it tomorrow. Freelance work got in the way.)
I have three courses to go over the next two semesters. Two seated, one dissertation (I get three hours for writing it.) I'm really trying to crank up the energy to get through this, but I'm wiped. Summer session took a lot more out of me than I expected. Somehow, in the next 10 days, I have to get mentally back in the game.
I rock!
(Oh, and said paper that needed to be revised for a conference submission? Still haven't done it. Will do it tomorrow. Freelance work got in the way.)
I have three courses to go over the next two semesters. Two seated, one dissertation (I get three hours for writing it.) I'm really trying to crank up the energy to get through this, but I'm wiped. Summer session took a lot more out of me than I expected. Somehow, in the next 10 days, I have to get mentally back in the game.
08 August 2008
I *heart* Google Scholar
I'm in the process of revising a paper to submit to the Midwest Communication Conference. I needed to find some very specific, on-point research. Research on a trend that is fairly new and hasn't been studied much yet, because it is so new.
I looked through the university database system and found a little, but not enough.
On a whim, I put the search terms in Google Scholar.
Ding. Everything I needed and more. Newly published research that hadn't hit the databases yet. I could search on terms within texts, have it highlighted right on the page, skim, determine if it would work or not, and then move on.
What would have taken me days in the old (or weeks in the old, old microfiche, Dewey Decimal System) way took me a matter of hours. Now I can block out time to revise the paper this weekend and be done with it.
Excellent.
I looked through the university database system and found a little, but not enough.
On a whim, I put the search terms in Google Scholar.
Ding. Everything I needed and more. Newly published research that hadn't hit the databases yet. I could search on terms within texts, have it highlighted right on the page, skim, determine if it would work or not, and then move on.
What would have taken me days in the old (or weeks in the old, old microfiche, Dewey Decimal System) way took me a matter of hours. Now I can block out time to revise the paper this weekend and be done with it.
Excellent.
04 August 2008
What the hey?
When I was a reporter, we all dreaded heat waves. It was like everyone went insane when the temps topped 95. Woe to the poor schmucks working GA shifts during a heat wave. You might as well live at the cop shop, because the crime rate would spike with freaky stuff.
My cousin who used to be an ER nurse reported the same thing.
It is miserable hot right now where we live. In the past few days, it's been 90+ with humidity to steam you as you walk outside.
As a result, it seems like there's more crime stories than normal; all seem odd:
Tied-up victim
Tiger attack
Shooting
And then, to prove that even politics goes nuts:
Blunt and ice cream
My cousin who used to be an ER nurse reported the same thing.
It is miserable hot right now where we live. In the past few days, it's been 90+ with humidity to steam you as you walk outside.
As a result, it seems like there's more crime stories than normal; all seem odd:
And then, to prove that even politics goes nuts:
28 July 2008
"Say, Mom and Dad
Did you notice that it is a lot quieter without C1 around? Without her here telling us everything about everything?"
So sayeth our son this evening. Soda really hurts when you snort it through your nose, btw.
His older sister (C1) is away at camp. C2, our son, is right, it is quieter. Pleasantly so, because he and she fight like cats and dogs over every fact known to mankind.
For the next four days, the boy is top dog (or cat). He's loving every second of it.
I'm enjoying the silence in the car and at the dinner table. It's nice not playing factual or logical fallacy referee.
So sayeth our son this evening. Soda really hurts when you snort it through your nose, btw.
His older sister (C1) is away at camp. C2, our son, is right, it is quieter. Pleasantly so, because he and she fight like cats and dogs over every fact known to mankind.
For the next four days, the boy is top dog (or cat). He's loving every second of it.
I'm enjoying the silence in the car and at the dinner table. It's nice not playing factual or logical fallacy referee.
14 July 2008
Homework panic!
Amazingly, me. Not the kids.
It was midsummer break in my grad program. We had the week of the Fourth off. I looked at my online course assignments, then blissfully went to Hot Springs and crashed at the in-laws' place.
We came back. I dove into work. I finished one project.
The other, I would have sworn, was due on Saturday at midnight. But Friday night, after doing laundry and dinner and chasing kids off to bed, something niggled in my brain. I booted up the computer. Looked at one class. Nope, I was good in that one. Looked at the other class.
Dang. Due at midnight Friday. As in, 2 hours and 40 minutes away.
I somehow managed to pull together a short story in record time, and post it with about 20 minutes to spare.
I hereby promise to cut my kids one night of slack when they forget a homework assignment this fall. Humbled, thy name is Mommy-Tracked.
It was midsummer break in my grad program. We had the week of the Fourth off. I looked at my online course assignments, then blissfully went to Hot Springs and crashed at the in-laws' place.
We came back. I dove into work. I finished one project.
The other, I would have sworn, was due on Saturday at midnight. But Friday night, after doing laundry and dinner and chasing kids off to bed, something niggled in my brain. I booted up the computer. Looked at one class. Nope, I was good in that one. Looked at the other class.
Dang. Due at midnight Friday. As in, 2 hours and 40 minutes away.
I somehow managed to pull together a short story in record time, and post it with about 20 minutes to spare.
I hereby promise to cut my kids one night of slack when they forget a homework assignment this fall. Humbled, thy name is Mommy-Tracked.
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