It's amazing the things you think about after you start a full-time job. In 29 years of marriage, I have never worked outside my home, unless you count the two years I took all my kids to help me do the church cleaning and worked them like rented mules.
But this week I started a real, bona-fide, get-up-and-go-to-the-office kind of job.
I'm exhausted.
The short story is that I am an editor for a translation firm. I'm the only one there who is not at least bilingual, and they all speak with some kind of accent. When discussions get heated, they revert to French because, presumably, it's faster. That's when I bury my face in my computer and press on. They know if they want my attention they have to speak English.
Anyway, I've had a few thoughts this week, when I wasn't busy editing an article about the invention of the guillotine. (I'm not even kidding. We translated and edited a piece that pondered whether the brain still has awareness of pain when it is severed from the body, and whether the body feels pain when the brain is severed from it. This article will at some point be available at Cairn.info . I'll let you know when the English version is up.)
Here are my thoughts, in no particular order:
1. Weekends are wonderful, but not for sleeping. It's because this is the first chance I have to catch up on all the stuff I used to do during the week.
2. Two monitors side by side are the bomb-diggity. Why did I never know about this before?
3. It's no fun when the office AC goes out.
4. I can't wait to NOT wear a dress tomorrow. I'm spending the weekend in gym shorts and a tank top.
5. Pete is not happy with the new schedule.
6. City water is nasty. I'm taking water from home from now on.
7. After using a Mac for four years, I had a little trouble remembering how things work on a PC. After using the PC for four days, I can't remember how to use my Mac.
8. If you punch the wrong code in the security system, the alarm goes off, the security company calls the boss at home, and the police only show up the first two times it happens. After that, you're on your own.
9. It's 9:21 pm and that's past my new bedtime.
G'night.
Friday, May 31, 2013
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Thoughts on Mother's Day
I think you all know how I feel about Valentine's Day. I've always thought it was just a day when women are permitted to demand gifts and outward shows of affection, which may or may not be real, and that's just not my thing.
I pretty much feel the same way about Mother's Day. Certainly I honor my mom on this day, and give thanks for the great mother she was (and is) to me. But I just can't stand to be the center of attention and praise.
I mean, why do I get accolades for doing something that was the desire of my heart, and which I feel so privileged to have been given the opportunity to do? Every year on this day, I am brought to tears of thankfulness for the amazing gift of my children. Why would I want them to give me gifts? They ARE my gifts. Why would I want them to thank me for being their mom? It's all I ever wanted.
On this Mother's Day, I am humbled and thankful all over again for the privilege.
Be thankful ~
I pretty much feel the same way about Mother's Day. Certainly I honor my mom on this day, and give thanks for the great mother she was (and is) to me. But I just can't stand to be the center of attention and praise.
I mean, why do I get accolades for doing something that was the desire of my heart, and which I feel so privileged to have been given the opportunity to do? Every year on this day, I am brought to tears of thankfulness for the amazing gift of my children. Why would I want them to give me gifts? They ARE my gifts. Why would I want them to thank me for being their mom? It's all I ever wanted.
On this Mother's Day, I am humbled and thankful all over again for the privilege.
Be thankful ~
Wednesday, May 8, 2013
Sometimes your words come back to haunt you.
And isn't that what motherhood is all about?
A few days ago I turned in my last assignment of the semester. I finished up some work for one client yesterday. This morning I completed the rest of the tasks I had for another.
Then I sat at my computer wondering what to do.
I can't remember the last time I didn't have something to do. Or a hundred things to do.
So I wandered around the house a little and finally sat down on the couch and let out a loud sigh.
Mansquared stuck his head out of his room and said, "What?"
I explained that I didn't have any schoolwork or work-work.
He said, "Why don't you dust?"
Really?
I asked, "Why would I do that?"
Finally he said, "Read a book," and went back in his room.
Then he stuck his head back out and said, "Isn't it funny how our roles have switched?"
Ha ha.
Be thankful ~
A few days ago I turned in my last assignment of the semester. I finished up some work for one client yesterday. This morning I completed the rest of the tasks I had for another.
Then I sat at my computer wondering what to do.
I can't remember the last time I didn't have something to do. Or a hundred things to do.
So I wandered around the house a little and finally sat down on the couch and let out a loud sigh.
Mansquared stuck his head out of his room and said, "What?"
I explained that I didn't have any schoolwork or work-work.
He said, "Why don't you dust?"
Really?
I asked, "Why would I do that?"
Finally he said, "Read a book," and went back in his room.
Then he stuck his head back out and said, "Isn't it funny how our roles have switched?"
Ha ha.
Be thankful ~
Monday, May 6, 2013
Saturday, May 4, 2013
*Graphic post alert*
Today was a difficult day and not just because I ran farther than I've gone since last summer.
Y'all. My dog is a bunny killer.
I had gone for my run and to the bank, then came home to do some work in the yard since in two weeks we are having 60 people here for a graduation party and the place is looking a bit neglected. My plan was to pull the heavy weeds from under the deck, then spray RoundUp under there and on the walkways and in the front ditch.
Yes, I know the dangers of spraying poisons. But my front walkway is made of bricks laid out in a nice 3x3 pattern with a quarter inch of space between bricks. Do you know what grows in that quarter inch of dirt that is exposed to rain and sun? Weeding it is the most miserable job on the planet.
Enter RoundUp.
Anyway, as I was pulling grass from under the deck, I noticed Pete chase something toward the garden, and at the same time saw a little baby bunny hopping along the foundation of the house in the other direction. I realized Pete must be after another one, so I ran at him screaming and flailing my arms. It distracted him long enough for the bunny to hide between the 4x4s that surround the garden, and I got Pete in the house.
I found their little den under the deck, covered with a thick mat of grass and the sweetest, softest little baby bunny hair. I left it, figuring they would find their way home again.
See him hiding there?
I finished weeding and then went to Lowe's to get a sprayer and weed killer.
When I got back, Ben was here grabbing some lunch and was on his way out to cut a tree at our accountant's house. I didn't think anything of it as I let Pete in the back door. But when I went out to spray, I found one of the bunnies hiding under the deck, gravely injured and barely hanging on. I knew he wouldn't make it and couldn't stand to see him suffer a slow death, so I asked my neighbor to come over and put him out of his misery, which he did quickly.
I'm having a hard time liking my dog right now, even though I know he's just doing what comes naturally to him. It's just sad. The mama in me wanted to protect them.
Y'all. My dog is a bunny killer.
I had gone for my run and to the bank, then came home to do some work in the yard since in two weeks we are having 60 people here for a graduation party and the place is looking a bit neglected. My plan was to pull the heavy weeds from under the deck, then spray RoundUp under there and on the walkways and in the front ditch.
Yes, I know the dangers of spraying poisons. But my front walkway is made of bricks laid out in a nice 3x3 pattern with a quarter inch of space between bricks. Do you know what grows in that quarter inch of dirt that is exposed to rain and sun? Weeding it is the most miserable job on the planet.
Enter RoundUp.
Anyway, as I was pulling grass from under the deck, I noticed Pete chase something toward the garden, and at the same time saw a little baby bunny hopping along the foundation of the house in the other direction. I realized Pete must be after another one, so I ran at him screaming and flailing my arms. It distracted him long enough for the bunny to hide between the 4x4s that surround the garden, and I got Pete in the house.
I found their little den under the deck, covered with a thick mat of grass and the sweetest, softest little baby bunny hair. I left it, figuring they would find their way home again.
See him hiding there?
I finished weeding and then went to Lowe's to get a sprayer and weed killer.
When I got back, Ben was here grabbing some lunch and was on his way out to cut a tree at our accountant's house. I didn't think anything of it as I let Pete in the back door. But when I went out to spray, I found one of the bunnies hiding under the deck, gravely injured and barely hanging on. I knew he wouldn't make it and couldn't stand to see him suffer a slow death, so I asked my neighbor to come over and put him out of his misery, which he did quickly.
I'm having a hard time liking my dog right now, even though I know he's just doing what comes naturally to him. It's just sad. The mama in me wanted to protect them.
Basking in my average.
Have you ever been discouraged?
I have. More than once.
I've always thought I was average in every way. Average wife. Average mom. And there's this incredible pressure in life to be more, do more, accomplish more.
But the truth is I am not comfortable in the limelight. That's why God doesn't let me discover the cure for cancer or give birth to 19 children and be the star of a reality TV show. Five kids is so . . . average. I couldn't handle the pressure of huge accolades.
Except for yesterday, when I finally kicked myself in the patootie and sat down to write a 25-slide PowerPoint research proposal for my current master's class. I kept going back to Facebook to update everyone on my progress (like it's important to anyone but me). At one point, I wrote "Just want you all to know I have 8 of 25 slides for this proposal done. I expect some kudos."
A few people wrote words of encouragement (which I very much appreciated), it got a few likes, and then after I updated that I was up to 13 slides done, an old and dear friend wrote, "Mrs. Sargent you are a Titan amongst mere mortals. You exemplify professional dedication. We the collective Facebook community bask in your magnificence!" and I'm telling you, that made the rest of my day. That might be my favorite comment of all time. I'm thinking of printing it on fancy paper and having it framed.
Anyway, the reason I'm thinking about all of this average vs. awesome stuff is because I just read Jon Acuff's latest book Start. (the period is part of the title, not the end of that last sentence) (Just wanted to clarify.), which I highly recommend. In it, he describes the steps everyone who has ever been awesome at something has gone through to get there.
So as I was sitting in my lounge chair on the deck just now considering all he had to say, I realized that I am already awesome. I'm awesome at being average. Average wife. Average mom. And I'm okay with that. I like the wife I am. I really like the mom I am. (I've always said I'm a better mom than I am a wife. My husband will argue, but it's true.) I have great kids, and I like them and they like me. I think that's pretty good. And if that's the only awesome I ever get to be, I'll thank God for the opportunity and carry on.
What about you? What are you awesome at?
I have. More than once.
I've always thought I was average in every way. Average wife. Average mom. And there's this incredible pressure in life to be more, do more, accomplish more.
But the truth is I am not comfortable in the limelight. That's why God doesn't let me discover the cure for cancer or give birth to 19 children and be the star of a reality TV show. Five kids is so . . . average. I couldn't handle the pressure of huge accolades.
Except for yesterday, when I finally kicked myself in the patootie and sat down to write a 25-slide PowerPoint research proposal for my current master's class. I kept going back to Facebook to update everyone on my progress (like it's important to anyone but me). At one point, I wrote "Just want you all to know I have 8 of 25 slides for this proposal done. I expect some kudos."
A few people wrote words of encouragement (which I very much appreciated), it got a few likes, and then after I updated that I was up to 13 slides done, an old and dear friend wrote, "Mrs. Sargent you are a Titan amongst mere mortals. You exemplify professional dedication. We the collective Facebook community bask in your magnificence!" and I'm telling you, that made the rest of my day. That might be my favorite comment of all time. I'm thinking of printing it on fancy paper and having it framed.
Anyway, the reason I'm thinking about all of this average vs. awesome stuff is because I just read Jon Acuff's latest book Start. (the period is part of the title, not the end of that last sentence) (Just wanted to clarify.), which I highly recommend. In it, he describes the steps everyone who has ever been awesome at something has gone through to get there.
So as I was sitting in my lounge chair on the deck just now considering all he had to say, I realized that I am already awesome. I'm awesome at being average. Average wife. Average mom. And I'm okay with that. I like the wife I am. I really like the mom I am. (I've always said I'm a better mom than I am a wife. My husband will argue, but it's true.) I have great kids, and I like them and they like me. I think that's pretty good. And if that's the only awesome I ever get to be, I'll thank God for the opportunity and carry on.
What about you? What are you awesome at?
Friday, May 3, 2013
Things I learned today.
Every day is a learning experience, isn't it?
1. Market Pantry, the Target brand, has changed the recipe for their regular animal crackers. Their chocolate/vanilla combo animal crackers have been my favorite for a long time. They are the perfect carbs-with-no-nutritional-value snack to go with my afternoon coffee. And now they're nasty. It's so sad.
2. I can't remember the last time I used PowerPoint, but this week I've been working on my final project for the class I'm in, an educational research proposal. In PowerPoint. Stick a fork in my eye. I've struggled and groaned and Googled everything to death, and finally got all the content on the slides. Then came the references, which have to be in APA format. I had them all neatly set up in a Word doc, so I happily clicked copy, then went back to PP and clicked paste, thinking it would neatly roll over to the next 4 or 5 slides (there are 19 references).
No. PowerPoint has to be different. So there are my 19 references, all on one slide, in 3-pt. font. Get your microscopes, people.
Commence cutting and pasting. Get them spread somewhat evenly over five slides. Now go back and format: double spaced, hanging indent, all the same font size. Can we do that? No. The only way to change font size in PP is to change the size of the text box.
Okay, I can do this. Get the first four slides in 15-pt. One more to go. Can I get the last one in 15? No. It's 13. Make the text box a hair bigger. Oops, now it's 17. Make it juuuuuust a taaaaaad smaller . . . back to 13.
Isn't this fun?
3. My memory gets worse with every passing day. Today is Button's second birthday. Did I remember? No. Bad Grammy. It's time to go book shopping.
4. Also related to #3, if you've ever taken an online class, you know all about Discussion Board. The instructor poses a question, you respond to it, and then you respond to one or two of your classmates' responses. It's supposed to mimic in-class discussions. Anyway, I remembered today that I still lack two responses to other people's responses. But at least I remembered.
Be thankful ~
1. Market Pantry, the Target brand, has changed the recipe for their regular animal crackers. Their chocolate/vanilla combo animal crackers have been my favorite for a long time. They are the perfect carbs-with-no-nutritional-value snack to go with my afternoon coffee. And now they're nasty. It's so sad.
2. I can't remember the last time I used PowerPoint, but this week I've been working on my final project for the class I'm in, an educational research proposal. In PowerPoint. Stick a fork in my eye. I've struggled and groaned and Googled everything to death, and finally got all the content on the slides. Then came the references, which have to be in APA format. I had them all neatly set up in a Word doc, so I happily clicked copy, then went back to PP and clicked paste, thinking it would neatly roll over to the next 4 or 5 slides (there are 19 references).
No. PowerPoint has to be different. So there are my 19 references, all on one slide, in 3-pt. font. Get your microscopes, people.
Commence cutting and pasting. Get them spread somewhat evenly over five slides. Now go back and format: double spaced, hanging indent, all the same font size. Can we do that? No. The only way to change font size in PP is to change the size of the text box.
Okay, I can do this. Get the first four slides in 15-pt. One more to go. Can I get the last one in 15? No. It's 13. Make the text box a hair bigger. Oops, now it's 17. Make it juuuuuust a taaaaaad smaller . . . back to 13.
Isn't this fun?
3. My memory gets worse with every passing day. Today is Button's second birthday. Did I remember? No. Bad Grammy. It's time to go book shopping.
4. Also related to #3, if you've ever taken an online class, you know all about Discussion Board. The instructor poses a question, you respond to it, and then you respond to one or two of your classmates' responses. It's supposed to mimic in-class discussions. Anyway, I remembered today that I still lack two responses to other people's responses. But at least I remembered.
Be thankful ~
Thursday, May 2, 2013
Being a grandma.
I started two other posts today, but when I saw this picture of Bean and his baby brother, all other thoughts were cast aside.
Be thankful~
Wednesday, May 1, 2013
He has a name!
Daniel Amasiah—the official name of grandbaby #3. We're so blessed.
Today was supposed to be a commissary day. I had my list ready and my game face on. The plan was to stop on the way and run 2.6 around the hospital, then head up to the base. But on my way to run, I heard on news radio that traffic on I-95 was stopped. Three accidents between home and the base.
Since I hate sitting on 95 more than I hate hunger, I changed the plan. I did my run and then went to Walmart for a few things, including seeds and plants. Then I came home and played in my muddy garden. I put in red bell peppers, yellow squash, zucchini, and basil. Cleaned up the kitchen and, since I will do anything other than write my research proposal (the final project for this class), I took the last article I had to read out on the deck and enjoyed 35 minutes of sunshine while I read and made notes on it.
When I had my thoughts ready to write a discussion board post on the article, I came in and went to the kitchen to get some lunch. As I rounded the bar, I had the immediate sensation that I was going to pass out, so I dropped to my knees and put my head on the floor.
Remember how, whenever little Timmy was hurt or sick, Lassie would stay by his side, nuzzle him and lick him, maybe whine a little?
Pete is no Lassie. He looked at me, then turned and walked away. Thanks for your concern.
Anyway, the feeling passed, I ate, and then wrote my article response. And that's it. I'm out of assignments. All done for the semester, except for the stupid research proposal. Procrastination is my new best friend, which is so funny because that's not how I ever am. I'm the student who gets everything done early and has the last two weeks off. Only not now. It's so sad.
Tomorrow I will go to the commissary and edit. And put off that paper one more day.
Be thankful ~
Today was supposed to be a commissary day. I had my list ready and my game face on. The plan was to stop on the way and run 2.6 around the hospital, then head up to the base. But on my way to run, I heard on news radio that traffic on I-95 was stopped. Three accidents between home and the base.
Since I hate sitting on 95 more than I hate hunger, I changed the plan. I did my run and then went to Walmart for a few things, including seeds and plants. Then I came home and played in my muddy garden. I put in red bell peppers, yellow squash, zucchini, and basil. Cleaned up the kitchen and, since I will do anything other than write my research proposal (the final project for this class), I took the last article I had to read out on the deck and enjoyed 35 minutes of sunshine while I read and made notes on it.
When I had my thoughts ready to write a discussion board post on the article, I came in and went to the kitchen to get some lunch. As I rounded the bar, I had the immediate sensation that I was going to pass out, so I dropped to my knees and put my head on the floor.
Remember how, whenever little Timmy was hurt or sick, Lassie would stay by his side, nuzzle him and lick him, maybe whine a little?
Pete is no Lassie. He looked at me, then turned and walked away. Thanks for your concern.
Anyway, the feeling passed, I ate, and then wrote my article response. And that's it. I'm out of assignments. All done for the semester, except for the stupid research proposal. Procrastination is my new best friend, which is so funny because that's not how I ever am. I'm the student who gets everything done early and has the last two weeks off. Only not now. It's so sad.
Tomorrow I will go to the commissary and edit. And put off that paper one more day.
Be thankful ~
Priorities.
Every birth experience has its highs and lows, doesn't it? Deb was telling me about her most recent one yesterday, and it started with the whole family going to a revival meeting in a town an hour away. They had a great time and everything was going swimmingly until they pulled into the driveway at home, she stepped out of the car, and her water broke. She said her first thought was, "Oh! My shoes!" I love that girl.
Without getting too graphic, the birth story continues with a large tub for a water birth, running out of hot water, heating water in pots on the stove, too much hot water, baby coming quickly, Daddy catching baby as the midwife walked in the house, and Deb passing out when she tried to get out of the tub.
THIS is why we pray for our children.
Be thankful ~
Without getting too graphic, the birth story continues with a large tub for a water birth, running out of hot water, heating water in pots on the stove, too much hot water, baby coming quickly, Daddy catching baby as the midwife walked in the house, and Deb passing out when she tried to get out of the tub.
THIS is why we pray for our children.
Be thankful ~
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