According to the statistics that Google Analytics offers me, I have had some international visitors, which is very exciting. The majority of visitors here are in the USA, with a few others tuning in from Canada. It’s wonderful to have visitors at all, but I especially would like to reach out today to anybody who either lives away from mainstream USA (either in their minds or otherwise) or else lives in a different part of the planet than USA.

I want to talk about BODY HAIR. Specifically, women’s body hair. I personally do not value shaving my legs or armpits. I don’t see the point in it. Why shave my legs at all? If I did, why not also my arms, indeed everywhere? Is there something inherently offensive about the fact that hair grows on the legs and underarms? Is it offensive on the arms too? Not to mention, the “bikini zone” and eyebrows and well, you get the idea.

Now, please, don’t get upset, all you happy shavers out there. If you shave just because you like how it looks and feels, that is fine with me. I am not saying you should stop. I just don’t get it myself. Why is hairlessness “normal”? I think the normal should be what happens without any particular effort.

Then again, I don’t much wear makeup either. Or do much to my hair other than brush and put it up as needed to keep it out of my face.

I guess you could call me a non-conformist. But I also get insecure about my body hair from time to time, and then if it gets to much to bear (bare?) I do in fact shave.  Then I almost always regret it, and feel annoyed at all the growing-back itchiness and bristle.

Some people I know only shave in the summer. That make some sense: some must figure that hairless legs look nice but why bother if it’s winter and you’re in pants all the time anyway.

And the issue of shaving isn’t just limited to women’s needs.  You’re sure to find plenty of marketing that tells manfolk how they can improve themselves — even make their manly parts look larger — by shaving. Some of the marketing materials on this site, for example, had Drob and I in stitches.

All this is to say, here I go to Florida, day after tomorrow. I won’t be in my winter clothes for a week.  I made it through the whole past summer in all my hairy glory.  Why should I shave now?  I have no one to impress. Drob doesn’t mind my hair one bit, in fact, it’s the scratchy part of growing it out that annoys him. My leg hair is long, sure, but it’s soft. It doesn’t bother me or him. If I shave it would bother both of us.  Plus I don’t want to model shaving to my kids. I don’t want them to think about this issue at all for at least another 5 years, when C hits puberty and has peers who are talking about it.

So… why do you shave? Do you ever wish you didn’t “have to”? Have you ever considered going against the cultural norm?  Or do you live somewhere where the cultural norm doesn’t tell you that having hairy legs is bad? If you live somewhere like that, how’s the food? Should I move there?

Oh, and my eyes are still miserable. I will be visiting the doctor tomorrow if I don’t see improvement in the morning. Bleah.

My eyes are So Disgusting and Miserable.

I thought for sure I’d be all better, or nearly better, by now, but instead for the second day in a row I woke up with sealed eyes. Ugh!

For fun, my kids put together and decorated some gingerbread houses a couple of days ago. Now is the stage of gingerbread house destruction. This includes little bits of icing crumbs being spread around the house, and children licking, then putting back, gingerbread walls. Must post some pictures of the houses - they were quite pretty before demolition began.

I’m in a sort of stupor, not just bleary-eyed from the pinkeye. I’m going to Florida in two days, but feel really unprepared. I have to pack (I hate packing!) and plan. I have to get to the bank and deposit money there tomorrow, that is something I really MUST do. That requires leaving the house. Ugh!

Oh yeah, and going to Florida requires leaving the house, too. Ugh!

I did get out of the house a while yesterday, pinkeye and all, and that was a good thing. I took A and C to the playground, where we met up with A’s best friend from last year’s pre-school class. They were so happy to be together again, it was like old times! And with the 52 degree weather, and sunshine, getting out was really good for me too. I just need to keep reminding myself that it really is okay to go out of the house. What is my freaking problem, anyway??

1. Dr. S. (her former dentist)
2. George Bush 
3. smoking people, cigarettes, cigars
4. being called names
5. getting eye drops
6. peas and beans
7. getting hurt
8. getting scratched or bitten by a cat.  Or by anyone.

Why, when I had such a nice and stress-free Christmas, do I feel so darn blue? It was a great Christmas, really it was. But I don’t feel like writing about it. I’ll just say this: the organic, grass-finished, free range ham was delicious.  NOT one BITE of guilt in eating that happy piggy. I’ve been enjoying the leftovers all week. But.

Yesterday I was especially sad.

I think part of my problem is that I haven’t left the house since Monday.  Why is this?  I don’t know. I think I’m depressed and letting the depression keep me lethargic and slow. There’s been plenty of food in the house, so I didn’t have a lot of incentive to go anywhere.

A had pink eye, then C got it too. Now I have it too.  Ya know what? Those kids weren’t lying. The eyedrops really do sting like crazy.  I let A give me my eyedrops. She did a good job, except for the one that she accidentally dropped onto my lips. Pfeh!

Today I looked at the Christmas tree and decided enough was enough.  I removed all the ornaments (putting them away NOT neatly but into a box that was lying around) and dragged that heavy, heavy tree, rootball and all, out into the sunporch, leaving a wonderful empty spot in the living room. AH! That’s better! And I removed the stockings from around the fireplace.

OVER! Christmas is OVER! I have a trip to plan, summery clothes to locate, laundry to do, a messy kitchen to clean and more. Too bad I have so little energy. I didn’t even make coffee until just now.

You know it’s bad when you’re not leaving the house, you’re so slow you don’t even make coffee in a timely manner, and then even when you make it, it sits there waiting for you.

I need to drink coffee and get out of the damn house.

It’s Christmas Eve, and we’re in for a nice quiet couple of days, filled with cooking, cleaning, and tomorrow a pile of presents (thanks to Grandma!)

Santa might drop some things by as well, though my kids are NOT at all hyped about Santa. I barely mention him, I’m such a no fun scrooge.

Well, have a great one. Here we go!

Howdy folks, Drob here. Remember me? Will you all excuse a non-seasonal post from the quieter half of this blog?

Two things have happened this week which have caused me to spend a lot of this pre-holiday weekend thinking about my job. First, I just got a big end-of-year bonus. Second, I just saw a listing for a job I think I might like. And I’m full of doubt about whether I should apply for this job.

I’ve been working for my current company for 7 years. I’m a programmer and computer systems guy, and then got promoted to manage my group, which now consists of me and six others. So, I write code, set up computer systems, and manage other people who do the same thing.

I really like my job. I like programming, but I’ve gotten to the point in my career where there are certain computer tasks that I’ve just done enough times that they hold no interest for me anymore; being able to now delegate those tasks and focus on the ones that ARE new and interesting to me really helps me maintain excitement about my job. I think I’m a pretty good boss. I’m pretty good at communicating technical concepts to non-technical people, and business concepts to technical people, which I think is a real asset in my position.

I also like my company. The company is big enough that there’s a fair amount of novelty in the situations we find ourselves in– there’s always something going on, a new challenge to deal with. But it’s small enough that I know nearly everyone who works for my company– certainly I know everyone who works at corporate headquarters by name, and I know many of the people at other locations also. I like my boss, and most of the other partners in the company. And did I mention they just gave me a bonus?

But even though I like my job, after seven years, I’m starting to think about whether this place is all I want out of my career. A few thoughts about this:

• This is the only “real job” I’ve ever had; I worked various temporary and part-time jobs in high school and college; after graduation I ran a business for a while, then took this job.
• I’m well paid in my current job, and I get decent raises on a fairly regular basis. However, I suspect that I could be making substantially more money if I went and did the same thing in a different kind of company.
• I hate commuting. Honestly, this is only barely a negative on my current job– although I don’t like my current commute, there are many other jobs where the commute would be much worse. And, although I don’t like the travel time, my job is in a vibrant city neighborhood. I would be less happy with a shorter commute that terminated in some anonymous suburban office park.
• The prime jobs in my industry are not in Philadelphia, they’re in other cities. But, we are staying put in Philly for the foreseeable future– we love the neighborhood we live in, and the school our kids go to, and being close to our families.

So all of those factors are in the mix in my thinking about my job. But in addition to those factors, there’s an elephant in the room. Actually, there are two elephants, a small one, and a large one.

Here’s the small elephant: My company’s business is selling DVDs. We sell them wholesale, we sell them on the internet, we sell them in stores. Boy howdy, do we sell DVDs.

I’m passionate about computers, and the internet, and the power of these technologies to make people’s lives better. But I’m not passionate about the retail industry, or about selling DVDs. I’m not even passionate about film. So I’m just selling widgets. And I feel like my life would be more fulfilling if my job ultimately served some goal I felt passionate about.

I do feel passionate about feeding my family, and sending my kids to a great community-based independent school, and my job does serve those goals. But still.

Okay, I’ve been edging around it long enough, here’s the larger elephant: what’s on a lot of those DVDs we sell is porn. Not all of them; maybe half, give or take. In some ways, this is the same issue as the smaller elephant. In addition to lacking passion and excitement about porn, I’m somewhat embarrassed and ashamed of this aspect of my job. I can’t talk about many of the products we sell in polite company. Every time I tell someone where I work, I wonder whether they think of the company as a porn source, and whether they judge me for it. And if I ever do decide to move on, will this aspect of my work make it harder for me to get other jobs?

Beyond that, as a parent, I’m uncomfortable with the fact that my job is not kid-safe. I have great memories of going to work with both of my parents between the ages of 7 and 16. Those experiences were great for me as a kid, and helped me form a comfort level with what different kinds of workplaces were like and what kind of work I might like to do when I grow up. It disappoints me that I won’t be able to do that with my kids. C is 7 now, about the age when I started to be interested in my parents’ jobs. This seems like a small concern in the scheme of things, but it bugs me.

So all of these things have been rolling around in my head. I’m not itching for a change, and it would be really easy to live with the status quo. I’m not sure the perfect job for me exists– I think that most jobs which would be more fulfilling would be unacceptable in other ways. It’s hard to know what I should settle for.

But anyway, there’s this one job. I don’t actually know too much about the job, but it looks interesting. I don’t know how much it pays. I don’t know the company, but at least it looks like they are doing work that definitely intersects with some things I really do feel passionate about. The commute would be about the same as my current commute. I suspect that my qualifications are not quite ideal for this job and my salary requirement would be too high, but I don’t know that for sure… I should really send in my resume and see if I can get an interview. I’d need to update my resume, and write a decent cover letter– but doing that would take about the same amount of time that I’ve just spent writing this blog post. So why am I so reluctant to do it?

I just booked tickets for me and the girls to go visit my dad the first week of the new year. D and I discussed it, and he’s ok with staying home; with so much on his plate, the thought of taking a week off is more stressful than delightful. The timing is just not good for him right now, so the girls and I are going to go it alone.

Because we can.

Because he’s not doing that great.

Because I want my kids to get a chance to see their grand-daddy before he’s gone.

Because I want to get him to work on his will.

Because Fort Myers is really, really beautiful.

Because I don’t care how bad I look in a swimsuit right now… I love the sea and it loves me.

Because if not now, then when will be good?

And finally, because I had to think of something to do with the large checks my parents each gave me for Christmas. I thought and thought… not wanting more “stuff” … not wanting to just pay bills (though that would be practical!) … not wanting to just have it be a fraction of some home repair… so this seems the wisest way to use the money.

Sure, I could have saved a bunch of money by just going by myself to visit my dad, but that wouldn’t be nearly so fun. I need my kids with me, because they will bring me joy and happiness even when my dad depresses the shit out of me. And they may not have another opportunity to visit with my dad, since his health seems so poor. Besides, C and A would be furious with me if I left them out!

Dad just got a pace-maker. Getting a energizer bunny that keeps your ticker going is much less intrusive than it once was.  Back when I was about 14 years old,  my grandfather nearly died after a pacemaker installation, from the complications of having this surgery. Apparently, the doctors  neglected to remove one of the surgical sponges from his chest. This caused infection, and required that they open his chest back up a second time. (As a young teenager, I imagined a bright yellow sponge like my mom used to wash the dishes being dropped into Grandpa’s chest by accident, then the doctors obliviously sewed him back up, not noticing it was there.)

Nothing bad like that happened to my dad.  By comparison, his pacemaker was installed in a quick and easy way.  For one thing, they didn’t even put him completely under anesthesia - conscious sedation was used, allowing for a quicker recovery.  He went into the hospital at 9 AM, and by 3 PM that same day, he was home and conscious, and only mildly uncomfortable from his surgery.

What was really momentous about this pacemaker installation was that Dad had said he was not going to go into the hospital again for any reason.  And he can be really stubborn.  Yet the doctors were able to do this miraculous surgery as an outpatient procedure, so they convinced him it was worth it. Especially since having the pacemaker will improve his quality of life drastically; his heart just was not beating strongly enough on its own.

So Dad’s ok. For now. I still fear the cancer will return.  And a big sad voice in the back of chest is asking me why exactly I’m not hopping a plane for Florida to visit Dad now, before he’s gone for good. Part of what’s keeping me home is that I know his wife is there with him: he is not alone.  Maybe I will throw together a trip in January, when his wife has returned back to their his home in the north (the one he wants to leave to me and my brother but hasn’t taken the time to get that in writing in his will).  I don’t mean to put him off, but at the same time I want to have a home holiday with my family. Even if I don’t really know what that means.

This year’s Christmas is planned as a HOME holiday. That’s unusual for us. Thanksgiving found us visiting my mom, but not D’s large extended family gathering, so it was quiet for us. Now this? We’re getting together with D’s parents and uncle and a couple of cousins, but in a small gathering and here in our home city. It’s so relaxed that we haven’t even chosen an exact date or time yet.

Being home for holidays is something I’ve longed for; and yet now that I’m peering toward the prospect of this actually happening, I feel like a ship with no rudder. What will we actually do? I am relieved of the responsibilities that usually stress me out: pleasing my mother; appeasing my father, and being nice to my step-mother, or greeting my aunt and her husband in an awkward family get-together where I’m the only one not really praying fervently before dinner.

Not being required to react and survive and get through the holiday is leaving a heck of a vacuum. When’s dinner? What’ll we eat? When will we open presents? How will we do this holiday? Should we make turkey (I don’t like turkey!) or ham? (Anyone know where I can get a good free range local ham?) What do I tell me kids this holiday is about again? Should we get all Solstice happy and claim we’re beckoning the spirits of whatever to get us through the cold winter season and bring spring and light back to us again?

How should I know?? I just usually do whatever the authority figure in my life wants me to do each holiday. Go here. Do this. Clean that. Eat this. Visit this church. Blah, blah, blah.

I’m free from all that. I am home for my holiday. We have our live Christmas tree with its kitty cat topper and cheery stockings hung by the fire with care. But how to actually celebrate the holiday? I don’t really know what I’m doing. And, um, it’s less than a week away.

I guess I’ve been in denial about the approach of this holiday. D pointed out to me recently that his great grandma, his parents, his uncle and his two cousins (and that’s all! not so many people, right?) would all be joining us for family holiday sharing… which means they will be giving US presents. Which means… we should be giving them presents. HOW could I have been so blind to this obvious fact?

This fact got me thinking about the fact that my brother and his family will likely ALSO be sending us presents so we should be sending them, yup, presents. Why am I only thinking about this now, what, five days before Christmas? Am I that oblivious?

Panic? Who me?

I’m thinking FAST. I am hatching some plans. I can still be gracious even if I am disorganized and not so flush with cash.

I am going to make some homemade biscotti and give them as presents, along with some fabulous fair trade coffee, and /or fruit. I’ve got a pair of movie tickets (that don’t expire; a re-gift) which I’ll mail to my brother and his wife. I picked up a cute book for my nephew, and I think I’ll go with a couple gift cards for my nieces. I also found (ok, trash picked, but he doesn’t have to know this) a large bound collection of X-Men comic books which I think my brother will especially enjoy.

I’ll mail my dad a biscotti & coffee care package. Great-grandma will enjoy biscotti in a gift basket with lovely organic hand creme and hand soap.

So the presents should work out okay, but I’m still not sure what to do. Make a lot of food, yeah, that’s it. Cookies. Christmas Cake. Whoopie Pies. Greens. Hoppin’ John. And remind my kids how much I love them, and how christmas is all about love. That ought to do, right?

And the only other question is: how will I manage to do all that I want to do? Especially when my kitchen is SUCH a huge mess? (again!)

Here’s a beautiful shot that my older daughter (7) took of my younger daughter (4)… I didn’t even know that C was taking pictures until I went to upload pictures from the camera to the computer. She’s a good photographer, huh!? (This photo also gives you an idea of the scale of the dollhouse they received on the last night of Hanukkah.)