The beautiful tapestry we call elevator music.

"I need you now....more than words can say, I need you now, gotta to find a way.....I need you now, before I lose my mind, I need you now.... "

That is the song playing over the speakers at the dealership. Our manager has a "no country music" policy. This would sound logical except that we live in MONTANA.

So, we get to travel the channels of XM each day to break up the week. Today is apparently love songs. There is a difference in songs about love and 1970's love songs, which will in fact drive me to suicide, not so much into the arms of love.

Next on the docket is Maroon 5, then Jewel, both of which I can get behind, then some 70's crap, earlier they played King Tut, by Steve Martin.
Really, do these music channels have an agenda? Do they want to drive the everyday worker to start working efficiently, work a little faster, dream of the hundreds of ways to kill themselves, then put the worker to sleep? What the hell kind of work day is that? Oh and lest we not forget, the finale, Cherry Pie, really, Warrant?
Time to go home.

WTF?

This was what my daughter did tonight when left to her own devices and markers. Really, there is nothing else to say.

Does it help to be a woman in your current job?

When I was hired in my current position, I was told my employer liked to have a woman in that office. They aren't hiring only women however, if they found one they liked, they preferred a woman to a man. That is OK with me. That is an honest answer, and when we live in such a politically correct world, I respect the honesty.
Let me make one thing clear, my current employers are smart, they wouldn't hire a woman just for the sake of hiring a woman in this office, but it does influence who they decide to hire.

So, I was on the phone yesterday with a gentlemen who I do some computer and social media work for. He has an upcoming project that will require an account manager, something someone can do from home, but it helps that the person is happy, sweet, smart & preferably a woman, because it "disarms"  the customers.

The question is, are you  offended to be hired partially on your gender? Some women may be offended. They may only want to be considered on their merits, however, does the fact that women are more disarming than men count as part of your "merits". Obviously with my previous statements I am not in any way offended by this concept. Judgements are made, if you like it or not, especially when the customer can only hear you, and not see you. (phone accounts, etc.)

My personality works well for me. It always has and it opens doors. I saw a bumper sticker once that said "Well behaved women, seldom make history."  Maybe, I won't be front page on the New York times for being pleasant, happy and understanding of my customers, but I will be a top producer for my company, because I am nice and people like me. Simple as that.

My Boob fell.. enough said.

Because my husband has been in town for two weeks and doing the mothering, I have not had as much stress resulting in less and less stories about my children and my insane working life.With this new evolution, it is time I bring my friends experiences into my blog. (Maybe I should just apologize now )

I got a call from a friend the other day. The call went like this:
Her: "Hey, my boob fell."
Me: "What, your boob fell? Like down by your belly button fell or just a little droopy."
Her: " Like by my bell button fell. You have to come over and see it."

Now I will stop right now to say my friend was a survivor of breast cancer and had a mastectomy on her left side. Had reconstructive surgery and has an implant, in her left  breast.

So, I run over to her house, she explains to me that in the previous night ( she sleeps with her left arm above her head ) she rolled over and an excruciating pain woke her.
The next morning she gets up and her implant has moved down the front of her and looks more like a shoulder pad laying just beneath the skin. She went onto say that it doesn't hurt and she was going to wait for her insurance to roll over before going into the surgeon. Yes, I know that makes no sense. She needs to see her doctor, but for just one minute I was grateful to be the friend she could call and we could laugh at her breast falling towards her belly button.

How do you spend your Valentines day?

It was just asked of me, how my husband and I spend our Valentines Day. I do have a couple of rules, but they are not difficult. Let me repeat, they are not difficult.

This was my response to that question:
"Frankly, the rule is, no gas station gifts, you know the last minute ones on the way home.

We have to leave the house and the children, and I don't care if it is on Valentines Day or not, just act like you want to try.
Have been married 13 years, still don't know how I found him, or what I would do without him, but it is really the thought that counts. Except for the gas station fake rose with the fake dew on it. That thought isn't worth a s***."

So, how do you spend your Valentines Day?

Are you kidding me? Principles, teachers, my husband and me.

So, one of my three children is a 2nd grade girl. Yes of course she is cute and funny and fantastic. I do however try to be a realist when it comes to my child. I don't want to be the mother that lives in a fantasy land, has the best child that has ever existed and can do no wrong, and this is how I got into my recent predicament.
At my daughter's parent teacher conferences in October, the teacher seemed happy and pleased with her progress. So, naturally, was I.
I have since started to worry. I got a call from the teacher telling me that she is 12 homework assignments behind and that he is giving her a second chance to finish them. He didn't know she was so behind until he went through her desk. How does a teacher not know this? Anyway I said I hadn't seen those assignments and I will make sure she gets them done right away.
Then I saw the assignments, some had pictures on the back, some had the teachers writing on the back, some were pages I had helped her finish before. When asking my daughter about the homework with stuff on the back she said they were papers from the recycled homework pile that she would use to draw. They weren't unfinished homework, they were doodles.
And then there it was, a stack of 15 or so assignments that the teacher had just corrected and sent home. One math page had 18 questions, 15 out of 18 were marked incorrect.
She wasn't asked to do them again, but marked wrong. Most of the other pages were journal entries which apparently had a total of points per entry. Some entries had 2 sentences and she scored 4 out of 5 points. Some entries had 5 sentences and she scored 2 out of 5 points. Never did any entry have notes from the teacher or things marked or corrected, they just had the score out of 5. Frankly Mike and I didn't even know what "5" was.
To put a final "what the hell?" The teacher spelled her name incorrectly on her homework folder. I am usually not this picky, however her name is Sophia. This teacher has taught her for 5 months and spells her name Sofia. Really?
So, half of the homework wasn't real homework, she obviously isn't learning math and her teacher can't spell her name. Should I be worried?
When talking with the teacher about the problems he said he hadn't looked in his grade book and noticed what was or wasn't turned in, his teaching is just fine, and sometimes he spells phonetically. (that is why he can't spell her name correctly), I wonder if the 2nd graders can spell phonetically on their spelling tests, will the teacher care?

Break down.

So it seems like I am having a weekly breakdown. Frankly, I probably am, soon maybe I will start writing about cooking or a funny childhood story but today is not that day, today is a breakdown day.
So, I decide to have a half humorous, half serious talk with my boss today. I was talking with him about how through my self deprication and need to please everyone in the office, how I end up doing 2 or 3 sets of work, so each and everyone I work with is comfortable and never feel put out or offended, instead of just saying, this is how it should go, get over it.
He proceeds to tell me that I can't be the mom of  the dealership, not everyone is going to love me and doing three sets of work is asinine. He was right. However, when you are a mother, that cares even a bit, when do you stop being a mother? Even to those you work with. My position at works does slightly take on a motherly role making sure those around are doing as they need to be, oh wait, is that motherly role or manager role? Obviously I have a hard time separating the two.
I guess I should be flattered that those around me think I am smart and capable enough to handle extra work or new projects, but also I don't really want a hand in everything.
My boss is the logical argument and I am the emotional argument. So what do I do to prove my point? Start to cry. I know embarrassing. I am and have always been a crier. Don't know how to stop, wish I could.
I even have a good friend that calls me the town crier. Ridiculous I know.
So tomorrow is a new day, no mothering. No emotions, requiring everyone around me to carry their own wait. Mom time is over.