In case I needed another sign that I probably shouldn't have children, I got a taste this week of what it's like to be a single parent.
My husband left Saturday morning as part of a coalition of photo- and video-journalists heading to Washington, D.C. to chronicle the inauguration of our new president. It was a very exciting opportunity for him, so I was glad, albeit a bit jealous, that he got to go. But I was also pretty apprehensive about being left behind.
At five days, this trip would be the longest amount of time we've spent apart since getting married (and probably the longest since we started dating, since we worked together at the time). It seemed like an eternity!
I felt a little silly for feeling that way. Just a few months ago, my sister was alone for seven weeks when my brother-in-law had to go out of town for job training. Five days is nothing compared to that.
Truly, it wasn't so much the days that bothered me; it was the nights. I had plenty of work and activities to keep me busy every day, but when the sun went away, the loneliness set in. There was no one there to have dinner with me or discuss the events of the day, and I got ready for bed every night knowing no one was there to say "goodnight" or "good morning."
And then there was the matter of Stella. For five whole days, I would have sole custody. I was the only one who would be around to take her out, feed her and play with her. I was the only one who would be around to make sure she wasn't chewing up the rug or grabbing pieces of laundry to hide with under the bed.
Alright, so maybe it wasn't exactly like being a single parent. Truthfully, it wasn't that big a deal except for the potty schedule. Stella is a little dog; she can hold it for several hours, but I'm sure she gets pretty uncomfortable after awhile. So as her only caretaker, I had to stay up a bit later than usual, get up a bit earlier than usual and leave her at daycare when I went to work (meaning leaving earlier and getting home later). And even three days of it took a toll on both of us. At the end of the day, we'd come home and collapse on the couch together, practically comatose until it was time to get tucked in for the night.
But somehow, those hours, the hours that would have been the most lonely, ended up not being so bad. Sure, Stella didn't ask how my day was, but she was always thrilled to see me when I picked her up at day care. She didn't help clean up the kitchen after dinner, but she licked the tile floor companionably while I wiped down the counter. And she didn't say "goodnight," but she curled right up in her crate without argument when I told her it was bedtime. So the dog I thought would be a burden to care for by myself ended up being the one who kept me company and got me through that five days.
So maybe having kids wouldn't be as difficult as I think. Not because it's not difficult, but because in the end, the return is worth the time and effort. Maybe I wouldn't mind the responsibility, because children are their own reward.
Maybe.
As long as my husband never leaves town again.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Thursday, January 08, 2009
A Hunka Hunka Birthday Cake
Hey, Hey, Hey.* Let's all take a moment, please, to commemorate the 74th birthday of the possibly late, undoubtedly great Elvis Presley.
Don't Be Cruel, please Help Me send a Happy Birthday To You to the king of rock and roll.
I know, many of those with Suspicious Minds think this Sweet Spirit is in Heaven, having Just A Little Talk With Jesus, but I Just Can't Help Believing he is having Fun In Acapulco, on an Island of Love with Petunia The Gardener's Daughter -- or even having a Harem Holiday. After all, he always was Girl Happy.
Elvis, I Ain't About To Sing, but I just want to wish you a Happy Happy Birthday Baby. You may have been gone before I was born, but I Feel Like I've Known You Forever. So if you are out there, I know You Don't Know Me, so You Don't Have to Say You Love Me, but please, Write to Me From Naples.
*List of Elvis songs graciously provided by Wikipedia. Contrary to popular belief among my high school classmates, I really don't know all that much about Elvis. Except his birthday.
Don't Be Cruel, please Help Me send a Happy Birthday To You to the king of rock and roll.
I know, many of those with Suspicious Minds think this Sweet Spirit is in Heaven, having Just A Little Talk With Jesus, but I Just Can't Help Believing he is having Fun In Acapulco, on an Island of Love with Petunia The Gardener's Daughter -- or even having a Harem Holiday. After all, he always was Girl Happy.
Elvis, I Ain't About To Sing, but I just want to wish you a Happy Happy Birthday Baby. You may have been gone before I was born, but I Feel Like I've Known You Forever. So if you are out there, I know You Don't Know Me, so You Don't Have to Say You Love Me, but please, Write to Me From Naples.
*List of Elvis songs graciously provided by Wikipedia. Contrary to popular belief among my high school classmates, I really don't know all that much about Elvis. Except his birthday.
Wednesday, January 07, 2009
An Open Letter to Google
Dear Google,
Like many people, I find your site helpful. Furthermore, I enjoy the whimsical logos you put together on holidays. I do, however, find one feature on your site annoying and not at all helpful. And it's the kind of annoying that makes me want to throw things.
I really hate it when I start typing my query and you offer suggestions of what I might be seeking. I set my preferences to not receive those suggestions (a preference that somehow got turned off after a few weeks, so I had to set it again and hope it sticks this time). But even with that preference in place, every time I do a search for something, your system logs what I searched for and suggests it to me when I go to do another search. So the suggestions are fewer, but even so, I am constantly reminded of the time I searched for the phone number of a hair salon or the recipe for chicken fried steak. I hope I never have to search with terms like "itchy butt rash" or "extra large thongs."
I said no query suggestions, people. I meant no query suggestions. At all. Not even suggestions of things I have already searched.
I tried to find an e-mail address to ask about how I turn off this really annoying and stupid feature, but I found myself stuck in a we-don't-want-you-to-find-us holding pattern, where I didn't find what I needed on one page, was referred to another, which referred me back to the first, etc. Some search engine you have there when I can't even find the information I want about your search engine.
So I am stuck writing to you via my blog. You'll be able to find it easily though. Just type "Stapling Jello" in your query box. But before you get to it, you'll have to make sure you don't follow your own advice to look for Starbucks, Sting or office supply giant Staples.
Sincerely,
Erika
Like many people, I find your site helpful. Furthermore, I enjoy the whimsical logos you put together on holidays. I do, however, find one feature on your site annoying and not at all helpful. And it's the kind of annoying that makes me want to throw things.
I really hate it when I start typing my query and you offer suggestions of what I might be seeking. I set my preferences to not receive those suggestions (a preference that somehow got turned off after a few weeks, so I had to set it again and hope it sticks this time). But even with that preference in place, every time I do a search for something, your system logs what I searched for and suggests it to me when I go to do another search. So the suggestions are fewer, but even so, I am constantly reminded of the time I searched for the phone number of a hair salon or the recipe for chicken fried steak. I hope I never have to search with terms like "itchy butt rash" or "extra large thongs."
I said no query suggestions, people. I meant no query suggestions. At all. Not even suggestions of things I have already searched.
I tried to find an e-mail address to ask about how I turn off this really annoying and stupid feature, but I found myself stuck in a we-don't-want-you-to-find-us holding pattern, where I didn't find what I needed on one page, was referred to another, which referred me back to the first, etc. Some search engine you have there when I can't even find the information I want about your search engine.
So I am stuck writing to you via my blog. You'll be able to find it easily though. Just type "Stapling Jello" in your query box. But before you get to it, you'll have to make sure you don't follow your own advice to look for Starbucks, Sting or office supply giant Staples.
Sincerely,
Erika
Foot-ball Follies
A few weeks ago, my husband and I were out shopping and stopped in a shoe store so he could look around. Once he'd made his selection, I was browsing the boots, and he balked at the name on one of the boxes.
"Did they really name a brand of shoe after a football player?" he asked.
My first thought was that it wasn't so strange -- after all, there were basketball shoes named after Michael Jordan. My second thought, however, was that we were nowhere near the athletic shoes and that he must be confused. So I asked.
"Which brand is that?"
"Steve Madden," he said. "Seriously, what's up with that?"
"Steve Madden is a shoe designer, sweetheart," I said. "The football guy is John Madden."
I think he was a little taken aback at my correcting him but impressed that I knew who John Madden was. Or at least what sport he was associated with.
"Did they really name a brand of shoe after a football player?" he asked.
My first thought was that it wasn't so strange -- after all, there were basketball shoes named after Michael Jordan. My second thought, however, was that we were nowhere near the athletic shoes and that he must be confused. So I asked.
"Which brand is that?"
"Steve Madden," he said. "Seriously, what's up with that?"
"Steve Madden is a shoe designer, sweetheart," I said. "The football guy is John Madden."
I think he was a little taken aback at my correcting him but impressed that I knew who John Madden was. Or at least what sport he was associated with.
Coffee, Tea, And Me
Years ago, newly out of college and on my own for the first time, I worked at a law office in downtown Pittsburgh. Next door to the building was a Bruegger's Bagels where I would pick up my daily breakfast, and often lunch.
As a lover of all things edible, I've often thought the lactose intolerance I developed as an adult must simply be the Gods telling me, "alright, Erika, you've had enough." If that is true, Bruegger's was a great help in making sure I got my fill. Their cream cheeses were so excellent that, if I had one day to eat dairy without any consequences, I think I would go there first.
Of course, I needed something to help wash down all those bagels with cream cheese, so each day, I'd grab a mug of coffee as well. In December or January of the year I was there (and I think probably every year), Bruegger's began selling special travel mugs. They cost $100 each, but the proceeds went to a charity, and the buyer would get free drinks in the mug for the entire year. Seeing as I went there every weekday, often more than once, I decided to buy one for myself.
Before I tell the next part of the story, I want to make two points. One, the office where I worked was not that busy, and two, I have always been a sucker for a dorky, useless project. So...I sat down and figured out what a cup of coffee would cost in my $100 mug, depending on how many times I refilled it. If I only used it once, for example, the drink would cost $100. If I used it twice, each refill would cost $50, and so forth. I wanted to know how many times I had to use it before I paid less per cup than what I would have paid just going to Bruegger's and buying a drink. (Full disclosure -- I had a chart and everything.)
At the time, Bruegger's had a punch card you could buy for $5, and it entitled you to 10 refills of a drink of your choice. Hence, each refill would cost 50 cents. So I was hoping to refill my $100 mug enough times to get my price per cup at 49 cents or less. I think I made it to 63 cents a cup, and then I moved out of Pittsburgh and away from any bagel shops where I could continue my mission. (Full disclosure -- In the last few weeks before I moved, I went to Bruegger's at least three times a day so I could keep chiseling at that price per refill to get it as low as I could.) So my $100 mug turned out to be a bust. (Though I think the price per cup without the punch card was about 65 cents, so not that much of a bust.)
But now, I have a chance to redeem my beverage-loving self with the Starbucks Gold Card. For $25, I get a year of benefits such as 10 percent off of my drink purchases (merchandise too, although I never buy anything at Starbucks but drinks). And with my online registration, I am entitled to a free drink on my birthday, plus other discounts such as free soy milk.
It was that last thing that sold me on the card. Starbucks charges 40 cents for soy milk, and as a lactose intolerant person (Note to self: Come up with a catchy name for people who are lactose intolerant.), I have always been a bit put out by that. I don't really have a choice what kind of milk I get; I don't think it's fair that I have to pay 40 cents more. Be that as it may, with the free soy milk, if I buy just one drink per week for a year, my Starbucks Gold Card has nearly paid for itself. Add in the 10 percent discount, plus the cost of the latte I got for free with my card purchase, plus the cost of the drink I'll get free on my birthday, and it's more than paid for itself.
Am I going to make a chart this time? No. I really don't have that kind of time, and besides, what a geeky thing to do. That kind of thing might have been fun back when I had an entry level job and no real responsibility, but come on, I'm an adult now. I have a full, busy life to lead.
Yeah, okay, I might make a chart. But I probably won't type it and save it on my computer.
I might type it.
The point is, I'm glad that Starbucks has given me this second chance to score drink discounts and redeem myself from the shame of not taking full advantage of my $100 coffee mug. As God is my witness, I'll never be thirsty again.
As a lover of all things edible, I've often thought the lactose intolerance I developed as an adult must simply be the Gods telling me, "alright, Erika, you've had enough." If that is true, Bruegger's was a great help in making sure I got my fill. Their cream cheeses were so excellent that, if I had one day to eat dairy without any consequences, I think I would go there first.
Of course, I needed something to help wash down all those bagels with cream cheese, so each day, I'd grab a mug of coffee as well. In December or January of the year I was there (and I think probably every year), Bruegger's began selling special travel mugs. They cost $100 each, but the proceeds went to a charity, and the buyer would get free drinks in the mug for the entire year. Seeing as I went there every weekday, often more than once, I decided to buy one for myself.
Before I tell the next part of the story, I want to make two points. One, the office where I worked was not that busy, and two, I have always been a sucker for a dorky, useless project. So...I sat down and figured out what a cup of coffee would cost in my $100 mug, depending on how many times I refilled it. If I only used it once, for example, the drink would cost $100. If I used it twice, each refill would cost $50, and so forth. I wanted to know how many times I had to use it before I paid less per cup than what I would have paid just going to Bruegger's and buying a drink. (Full disclosure -- I had a chart and everything.)
At the time, Bruegger's had a punch card you could buy for $5, and it entitled you to 10 refills of a drink of your choice. Hence, each refill would cost 50 cents. So I was hoping to refill my $100 mug enough times to get my price per cup at 49 cents or less. I think I made it to 63 cents a cup, and then I moved out of Pittsburgh and away from any bagel shops where I could continue my mission. (Full disclosure -- In the last few weeks before I moved, I went to Bruegger's at least three times a day so I could keep chiseling at that price per refill to get it as low as I could.) So my $100 mug turned out to be a bust. (Though I think the price per cup without the punch card was about 65 cents, so not that much of a bust.)
But now, I have a chance to redeem my beverage-loving self with the Starbucks Gold Card. For $25, I get a year of benefits such as 10 percent off of my drink purchases (merchandise too, although I never buy anything at Starbucks but drinks). And with my online registration, I am entitled to a free drink on my birthday, plus other discounts such as free soy milk.
It was that last thing that sold me on the card. Starbucks charges 40 cents for soy milk, and as a lactose intolerant person (Note to self: Come up with a catchy name for people who are lactose intolerant.), I have always been a bit put out by that. I don't really have a choice what kind of milk I get; I don't think it's fair that I have to pay 40 cents more. Be that as it may, with the free soy milk, if I buy just one drink per week for a year, my Starbucks Gold Card has nearly paid for itself. Add in the 10 percent discount, plus the cost of the latte I got for free with my card purchase, plus the cost of the drink I'll get free on my birthday, and it's more than paid for itself.
Am I going to make a chart this time? No. I really don't have that kind of time, and besides, what a geeky thing to do. That kind of thing might have been fun back when I had an entry level job and no real responsibility, but come on, I'm an adult now. I have a full, busy life to lead.
Yeah, okay, I might make a chart. But I probably won't type it and save it on my computer.
I might type it.
The point is, I'm glad that Starbucks has given me this second chance to score drink discounts and redeem myself from the shame of not taking full advantage of my $100 coffee mug. As God is my witness, I'll never be thirsty again.
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