About to get "dooced"

That's not even close to what you're thinking, I assure you. Dooce.com is a blog that I love and is actually the blog that inspired me to start this one. You should stop by and read it. Heather is as unapologetic as I wish I could be. She grew up Mormon (is no longer a practicing one) and she isn't afraid to talk about poop. That's my fair warning. But, her website became the thing that caused her to lose her full time office job. Hence, "dooced" came to mean getting fired for your blog. It was a question on Jeopardy last year, so that's about as legit as it gets.

Anyway, I took today off work. I hate that job. Let me tell you, getting paid $10/hr to do something so incredibly pointless is a joke. The service they offer, property preservation, is a fine one. But, there's just a lot of moving around, "cross-training" and basic disorganization that gets to me. Also, working with 15-20 females gets hormonal. Everyone has an issue with someone. And, it's not doing something I've done before, so I'm not super great at it, not very fast at producing the required documents, and that makes me feel like a loser. So, getting paid $10/hr to feel like a loser and not really make any decent friends because they keep moving people around (and firing people who suck at their job).

Enter: A NEW JOB!! Man, the Lord knows my heart and prepares a way for me. My sweet friends helped me find a new job, getting paid more (see: I can pay my Gage watching ladies a little closer to what they deserve - but how can you put a price on excellent childcare? YOU CANT!) and working as an administrative assistant in an office where I can wear high heels and not jeans. I'm just glad for something that should be a lot more enjoyable and better pay and eventual benefits with a great sounding company. I'm starting tomorrow. Yep, tomorrow. That means I've got to let this current place know I'm leaving, while still managing to swing by and collect my desk of snacks and my picture of Gage from my desk. I've gotta time that perfectly.

So, instead of getting fired for bitching about this job that sucks, it looks like God had prepared everything in advance so that I could start a new job at a place that I will stay and not hate. With just one day off between working. It's a nice day off too. Spending time with my little man and getting to see my big man as soon as he's done working today.

If ya gotta work, you'd better like what you do. Curtis works his butt off - seriously that man has NO fat on his body. He's also ridiculously strong and a great kisser...oh wait, I digress - but he loves his job. He says he's living his dream, working for himself. He's got a 5 year plan. He's even talking about having TWO more kids if the business gets to where he hopes it will. I reminded him that if we had money for two more kids, then we'd better have money to put my body back into it's original glory like when he met me. :)

I feel like the Lord is blessing our way...I'm meaning more that we are inside of God's will for us and we are enjoying His favor. "It's been a hard year, but we're climbing out of the rubble," That's not my lyric so I won't take credit. Sara Groves' album with this song was the soundtrack to my life when I first met Curtis.

I'm just beside myself with excitement about this change. And, glad I don't have to jeopardize my job by writing on the internet about how much I hate it.

Life's a....

Well, I will let you finish that for yourself since my husband prefers to censor my language so that everyone thinks I'm a nice girl.

This week has been the most bizarre week I think we've had in as long as I can remember. On Tuesday Curtis found out that a customer/friend had passed away from a heart attack less than a day after Curtis had spent almost two hours talking and hanging out with him making arrangements to fix his garage door. Blindsided. We were shocked and really saddened by this loss because although he didn't know him for long, Curtis really liked Joe. He was an older, incredible Christian man who had spent time praying with Curtis and just talking about life, much like an older brother in Christ would do.

Then, I get an email wherein I am told that I am a liar, that I've made up things that happened in my childhood. That the things that have shaped my entire life were figments of my imagination. I was just dumbfounded. I wish I could say that I was outraged, but really I just felt sorry for the person. If they can deny their part in ruining my childhood, then they're the ones who need help. Because I have moved on with my life. I had to deal with it, decide to make decisions as an adult and choose healing. And, their exit from my life means little to me.

Curtis has been incredibly busy this week with work. He's probably had a record week since we've completely branched out on our own. God is certainly blessing our business.

I've adjusted to working full time, I suppose. I miss my sweet Chunky Monkey. I feel like he's getting big and growing up behind my back. He's showing his smarts by using new words every single day. Curtis has been talking to me more and more about having another baby. I definitely want to add to our family. I just want to make sure we've got the best timing possible given the financial situation. I know, I know. There's never ENOUGH money to have another baby. But, having health insurance with maternity coverage would greatly help the situation!

I am just ready for this week to be over...

Gage: Eighteen Month Letter

Honey,
I only THOUGHT you were repeating everything we said. You now CLEARLY repeat everything we say. I called across the room to get your dad's attention the other day by saying "Honey" and you immediately starting calling him Honey. There's still some things you don't quite have figured out yet, but you say them consistently. Like "fan" is "wah". And "school bus" is "scoo-ti".

Here's the part I couldn't bear to open with: I went back to work this past week. I started a new job last Tuesday. You've been playing at Miss Chris's house 3 days and Uncle Scott & Aunt Miranda's house the other two. You haven't had any tears or separation issues with me dropping you off. I am very proud that you're so well adjusted, but part of me wishes you missed me at least a little.

You really are getting bigger every day. You just got your first hair cut with the buzzers and you held still and totally loved it. You look a lot more like a little boy and less like a baby though and it makes me sad. I think it helps me adjust to being away from you though. Being a toddler makes you seem more capable of handling it. Who am I kidding? I think I'm the one who is handling it the worst.

In fact, I'm not that motivated to write this letter....you're EIGHTEEN months old...that's a year and a half. And it's gone by so quickly. I think about you while I'm at work. I try and decide what you're doing based on what time it is. I miss your chunkies. I think about gobbling your cheeks. You're such a litle sweetheart and you're so smart.

You've started getting more beligerent this past month. You're so stubborn and we've had to step up with our discipline and rules and follow through. Translation: you've been getting more spankings. Judge not, people. Spare the rod and spoil the child. Maybe that's why your kids a brat all the time. Well, that, or they don't get enough sleep.

Gage, you're just more and more of your own little person each month. There has been a fine tuning of your skills this past month. You speak more clearly. You understand us more. You are incredibly smart because you very obviously understand things that we say and ask you. You really love to help us. Of course, sometimes that means you close the fridge and push hard when I am standing there trying to pour you some juice. And, that's annoying. But, I get that you want to help by closing the door.

You're very concerned with certain routines that we do. You like to shut the door and turn off your own light when I take you into your room to go to sleep at night. You like to close the back door when the dogs come inside. You like to ask for cookies for breakfast.

I'm really close to wanting to give you a sibling. I miss your cuddly babyness. I love how you're growing into a little boy with so much personality and energy and life. You would love a baby. You've been really sweet around other babies. And you're very gentle and you like to touch their toes.

This letter is pretty much depressing for me. I don't feel like facing the fact that you're already a year and a half old. Stop growing up!!!!

Love,
Mommy