Islay Girl

One for you, nineteen for me*

I finally got all the tax stuff to my accountant. Our extension (possibly our extended extension?) runs out Oct. 15.

I am full, replete with virtue (even if it is almost 6 months late). The only stuff that's missing is stuff from the HH, and I'm hoping there's enough info that I can just go ahead and file mine and let him pay his penalties at his leisure.

The HH and I haven't decided if we're going to file joint or separate -- we have either option because we were married for all of 2006. I'm extremely anxious because I freelanced almost all of last year, and that translated into no withholding (stupidly). It could be very, very bad.

But I was doing a little math today, and I could be OK, because I bought a house and a car, and had the mortgage interest from the house we sold, too, so the deductions could make it Bad but not Utterly Terrifying.

So please pray, to whatever deity you acknowledge, that I'm not completely screwed, because I am barely making ends meet as it is, without the addition of scary tax bills. Even if i worked out a deal with the devil payment plan with the IRS, it's pretty much moot because i don't have any extra every month to give them.

The good news is that 2007 should be much better. Since I now have a normal job, I've been withholding, so with any luck it will break even, even with the odd bit of freelance here and there.

* lyrics here.

Chick lit.

Tonight I sat and read the first two chapters of The Trumpet of the Swan to my daughter.

Suddenly I was eight years old, and reading stuff that I hadn't thought about in almost 30 years. I learned a lot of random stuff by reading fiction, and this one taught me that baby swans are called cygnets. That everyone knew about the swan boats in the Public Garden in Boston. That swans would probably like watercress sandwiches.

Reading to her tonight was one of the things that was on my list of Things I Can't Wait For When I'm a Mom. It was awesome.

I am a horrible parent.*

I know we all go through this, but I still feel like crap.

Last night I went to bed early because I haven't been feeling well. Nothing big, just a little allergy/cold/thing.

About 45 minutes after I fell asleep, cue Wee One. She's crying, complaining her legs hurt. Which has happened before during growth spurts. When this happpens, she is inconsolable. Nothing helps. She sobs, she wails, I feel frustrated, ineffectual, and effing tired.

She finally falls back to sleep.

One hour later. Yes, you guessed it. Repeat. Exactly same scenario except I feel frustrated, ineffectual, effing tired and angry.

We finally get a couple hours of sleep. When we wake up this morning, I am considering letting her stay home, since I'm tired and still feeling crappy. But she's bouncing off the walls, so we get ready for school.

(Can you hear the ominous music? I can.)

I make her lunch. We're getting ready to go out the door when she freaks. Freaks.

"I AM HAVING HOT LUNCH TODAY! YOU SAID! HOT LUNCH!"

Here we go. I had told her last night she could have hot lunch today if I didn't make it to the store last night. But Cher came over last night and I ran out to Safeway and got all sorts of goodies for her lunch.

She went into Thermonuclear Meltdown.

After a couple of minutes explaining to her that hot lunch was expensive (four dollars! crazy!) and only for emergencies (oversleeping, complicated custody days, mommy has a hangover, etc.) she was only more into the tantrum.

And at that point, I dug in my heels. If I gave in, then she would know that Thermonuclear Meltdown would get her what she wanted, especially if she pulled it when Mommy felt crappy, we were on our way out the door, and knew that Mommy had an absolutely crucial 8.30 meeting with her VP.

Meltdown continues.

I tell her she has to have a time out in her chair for 4 minutes. She continues to scream. I try to remain calm.

I fail miserably.

I yelled at her. I was mean. I was probably scary. I was pissed.

I've gotten pretty good at just turning off when she has a tantrum. I know it's better in the long run if I don't feed the tantrum by arguing back or giving her attention when she's going nuts, and then the second she calms down I go to her and we talk it out, hug, etc.

But this morning, that wasn't happening. I was tired, I was worried about getting to the meeting, I was feeling crappy, I was worried about work stuff.

We made up before I dropped her at school, but I still felt terrible.

And in retroactive feeling-terrible, she had a practice lockdown at school today (can you believe they have to do this?!) that scared the crap out of her. To add to the fright of being locked in a bathroom with 24 five-year-olds and four teachers, something went wrong with the communcation system and they didn't get the 'all-clear' signal when they were supposed to, so it went on longer. She freaked out when they had the fire drill last week (she hates loud noises) and this just frightened her more.

Even worse, she wouldn't talk about it. Sigh.

*But under the heading of Doing Something Right, one of her classmates scraped his arm today, and she came over and gave him a hug. When her teacher commented on it, she said matter-of-factly, "Well, everyone needs a hug when they get hurt!" I credit Montessori with that one, but she's still mine.

Mmmf-mmf.

(That's me, eating my words.)

I went to the birthday party. Aside from the alarming number of Escalades parked in the drive and up and down the street, it was nice. It verged on normal. I stood around and talked to the mommies and really, honestly, had a good time (but I'm serving wine at any party i host).

Plenty of room in the bed.

Why, yes, I am home alone on a Friday night. Wee One at her dad's. Cher out with boy who's a friend. Other friends busy with *gasp* husbands. I am alone with bad Rona Jaffe novel from 1979 and three Scottie dogs.

I should be enjoying this.

But, being me, I'm just sitting here actively dreading the birthday party tomorrow.

Happy ****in' Birthday

OK, so how do you feel about kids' birthday parties? I know I'm an antisocial curmudgeon, but I really, really, really dread them.

Until now we've limited attendance to those where the hostess was actually a friend and not just a classmate, but this whole 'new school, new social group' thing combined with the Wee One's desire to attend has left me feeling browbeaten.

There's one on Saturday that I had definitely decided we weren't going to, for several reasons -- it's a boy, so it's not like someone she's close friends with, it's on the other side of town, it's during a part of the day where she is just WIPED because she's already gotten up early for swim lessons and it's the day after she's spent the night at her dad's so she's even more exhausted .... i could go on.

All very good, valid reasons.

And, i figured there's no way all 12 of her classmates would be attending.

Well. The mom did evites, so i could see not only the guest list, but whether or not they were coming, and yes, all but one of her classmates is going. Sigh. So, since I didn't want her to be the only kid on Monday who didn't go, I said we'd go.

And honestly, the other day I had been thinking about how I could get to know some of the other mommies, and this is the obvious solution.

But I hate these things.

I hate standing around in someone's house pretending to think that someone else's obnoxious child is adorable. I hate not getting to have anything to drink to take away the pain of pretending that someone else's obnoxious child is adorable. I hate that some parents seem genuinely to enjoy the experience of watching obnoxious children. I think what i probably hate most is that I'm the only single parent in the class, and really, it shouldn't matter and i shouldn't be self-conscious about it, and the best way to get over it is to actually meet these people as people, but ... you know me.

Just call me Dirty Bess Kidd

Do you know what today is?

And of course, I have to believe there is some not-so-small connection to Caleb Potter in all this.

yay!

the new mac is here and i just migrated everything over. so, fingers crossed, it all works. eek! soooooo purty.

A moment of silence. Perhaps several.

I am so grateful to report that it is finally under 100 degrees IN THE DAYTIME in Phoenix.

And why the silence? Because for the first time since MAY i have turned off my air conditioner and i have the windows open. I can't tell you how excited I am, not least because I won't be paying $250 a month in electricity for the next 6 months.

Fractious

OK, people, i have discovered the source of my antsiness. (antsyness?)

It's been one year (last Friday!) since I left Denial House, moved into my new house, and gave myself the year off.

So, umm, the year is up, and I am SO ready for something new.

I was reading somewhere (Oh, i remember, it was here) about how for some people, September is the beginning of the year, not January, and I feel exactly that way.

I am in the middle of a two-day conference, and the whole time today i was just thinking about how boring my job is and how i really need something else.

But of course, my job is perfect for me right now -- flexible schedule, enough money to live on, close to home and school, good people to work with, respect of my peers and bosses -- really, i can't ask for much more. Almost zero professional satisfaction because i could do it with my eyes closed, but everything else, perfect.

So. Just wanted to let you know.