Unemployed, Now What?

Wow, 3 posts in one day. A new record!

CEO walked into my office today and let me go. "Sorry kiddo, today's your last day" is what he said. Told me he's so sorry, it's not personal, in three months it may be him on the way out, etc. Gave me severance, offered to help "in any way" he could. When people say that, what exactly do they mean? You just let me go, how are you going to help me? Anyway, my now-ex boss comes in and she's crying. Great. So I spent my last few minutes there cleaning out my desk and reassuring OTHER PEOPLE that I'd be fine.

I held it together just fine, making jokes, being ME, until my husband picked me up. As soon as he put his arms around me I broke down. Mortgage, kids' tuition, debt... how? HOW are we going to do it? How long will it take me to find another job? Will I find a job that pays enough to keep my family afloat?

Unemployed, so now what?

Skepticism Pays Off

So I decided to double check the Elvis thing. The more I thought about it, I just knew that if my dad and Elvis shared a birthday, it was something he'd have been pretty vocal about. But my mom insisted yesterday, and TV Land did say "in honor of Elvis' birthday tomorrow" during one of the specials, so was I to be skeptical?

WELL.... It was bothering me so I had to look it up. A quick check on Google tells me that Mr. Presley's birthday was yesterday. Oh Google, is there nothing you can't tell us? So there. It's not March, but it's not the same as my dad's either! See why I never knew? Because it wasn't right! I'm not crazy, or in the throes of dementia.

I'm calling my mom to say I Told You So.

Elvis and My Dad

Today would be my dad's 53rd birthday. And in case you don't know, I'm an Elvis girl. My dad was an Elvis guy, so I come by it honestly. When I was little, I thought my dad even looked like Elvis. Well, if Elvis had been much thinner and Puerto Rican, I suppose. But to me, it fit. My dad had that big smile and the jet black hair, and he sure sang a lot. What's odd is that I swear I never knew they shared a birthday. Last night I thought, "Wow, there's a lot of Elvis stuff on today." but I thought I'd only noticed because my dad was on my mind. How could I not know this?! Something so obvious? It was one of those times I wanted to pick up the phone and call my dad to tell him.... but of course I can't do that, because my dad died in 1995.
So I was watching an Elvis special last night, after Hubs went to work and the kids were asleep. Sometimes I feel like it's still something I can still share with my dad, this love of Elvis. So last night, I'm watching "Elvis by the Presleys" and it showed a lot of concert clips. Toward the end they showed Elvis singing a song to his daughter, saying that her daddy would be gone someday but not to worry, because he'd always love her.
Yeah, I cried.
They talked about Priscilla leaving Elvis, and how they still loved each other, and how Elvis spent so much time with them because he couldn't stand to be away from her and his daughter. Yeah, it was the story of my parent's divorce. Couldn't live together, couldn't live apart.
But last night I decided not to dwell on any of that. My dad was an easy going guy, didn't like people to be sad. So I turned off the tv, smiled and said, "Happy birthday, Pop."

Oh, I *AM* One of Those People

I'm working on something for one of our restaurants, and have a pile of business cards on my desk. I started to notice how so many people actually have 2 business cards. So I started thinking, how absolutely important do you have to be to have not one, but two business cards? And how much time to these people have, that they can do two things that require business cards? Do they work just for fun?? Or do they have double MBA's or something?

Then I realized that yours truly has two business cards. One for my humble, mild mannered day job and another for my fired up, crusading baby saving "job."

Yes, it's true. I have nothing worthwhile occupying my mind, which is why it wanders like this.

Reminders, Reminders

Isaiah's sick. Gave him "nighttime" cold Rx for kids, and I swear he fidgeted for 2 hours. Tapped the wall. bounced his foot. Scratched his ankle. He doesn't have restless leg syndrome, he has restless BODY syndrome. Hubs had put Vicks on him (do other races still use this stuff?? Or is it just us late ass Latinos?) and during his fidget fest, he rubbed some off his own chest, and rubbed it on mine. Rubbed it off from under his nose, and smeared it under mine. He said it was to make me feel better, too.
He finally, thankfully gave way to sleep and I just sat there and watched him. How could it be that this little person was a tiny baby not so long ago? How could he turn into a MAN, this boy who still sings to me while I tuck him in? *sigh* And don't get me started on Daimean, who is ten and has a whole life, it seems, that I'm not a part of. It's not that I don't want him to, because he has to, right? But it happened overnight, almost. One day we were the center of his universe, and the next he had friends and day camp and online video games.
My grandmother, who raised five children and had a hand in my own upbringing, often said that the best you can do for your kids is love them, love them, love them, and point them away from you so they can stand on their own two feet. Turns out that's a little harder than it sounds.

Don't Dry Wool Sweaters

This weekend I got to have lunch with a family that adopted a girl who was relinquished through Safe Haven. We like to call them "our" babies. She is beautiful, charming, funny, smart. Her mommas are educated, funny and warm. She's not quite two yet, but she's traveled far more extensively than I have. She signs words she can't say yet, and she actually eats olives. (As opposed to my kids, who gagged and threw up when given olives) It's always amazing to see a family come together and made whole through Safe Haven. She's got a bright future, that one.

Last night Hubs threw his work uniforms into the wash, and I said I'd put them in the dryer for him. When they were done, he piled it all into a basket and went to hang them up. A minute later, Belly comes into the kitchen with the cutest black/argyle sweater on. Yep, Hubs grabbed one of his wool sweaters on accident and put it with the rest of his wash. I didn't notice, so I threw it in the dryer. It shrank to approximately 1/3 of it's original size. On the plus side, it looks great on Belly.