Today is Tuesday. I left the house at 6:50am this morning, drove a block and a half to the Wawa to buy a gallon of milk for breakfasts. We go through 3 gallons of milk per week. Big Dog said that he was going to run out and pick some milk up last night but when I walked in the den at 10pm to remind him he was sound asleep on the couch. No help at all. Because I was in the middle of 9 loads of laundry, I didn't run out either.
So at 10 minutes to seven, I am running out for milk. Of course.
Ten minutes later and I'm officially commuting. My daily drive to the office is one hour (50 miles) one way. I hate it. I hate being on the highway, paying $2 in tolls every time I need to avoid I-95 and getting stuck in traffic tie-ups. I hate leaving home at seven in the morning and not getting home until 6 o'clock at night. I hate never being part of the kids' daily morning routine, being helpless when Big Dog calls to report that Child X had a melt down and left for school in tears. I really really hate it.
But I love my job. More specifically, I love the pay check. Don't get me wrong, I'm not bringing home six figures by any stretch of the imagination but for my profession, my yearly salary is decent.
I love the work too. I work for a large company that is responsible for managing how behavioral health services are delivered to families in my community. In social work classes (over a decade ago now) we learned that my position would be considered "macro social work" because rather than working directly with individuals and families, I am involved with the services on a larger scale. I love having that kind of impact and I don't mind admitting that I don't miss all of the charming things that go along with direct practice including carrying a beeper for on-call coverage, being in families homes that are less than sanitary and parking my car in completely dangerous neighborhoods in order to visit my clients. I have so much respect for the clinicians who choose to do this type of work. I am also very happy that I'm not doing it any longer.
I have worked in the field for over 10 years and I have "paid my dues", so to speak. I've worked in psychiatric hospitals, mental health clinics, nursing homes, treatment programs, etc.... I loved it. I have the best stories about crazy people making insane decisions. These are not clinical descriptions obviously but sometimes you just need to call it what it is. Crazy, insane. And I love it.
I am fascinated with the brain and everything that can go wrong and right. I am amazed by how much impact a person's family can have on the brain's physical development. It is remarkable to witness the amazing resilience that people show in face of life-crushing traumas.
This is not everyone's cup of tea. I know that. I can't usually tell my stories in groups of people who aren't clinicians. "Normal people" are sure that I"m making this stuff up while folks in the field always smile and nod knowingly. Big Dog tells me not to tell my stories to our friends. He's not embarrassed by me, just more aware than I am of how "normal people" perceive them.
Back to Tuesday.
After a relatively calm day at work, the highlight of which was creating a brand-new shiny Excel spreadsheet, I left early (3:30pm instead of 5pm) so that I could be home in time for Big Dog to get to his game.
I pulled into the driveway at 4:30pm, met the crew on the driveway, got hugs from the little ones, and got instructions from Big Dog.
"Micro is at CCD. You need to pick him up at 5:45pm."
I said, "I know."
"Micro and Belle have Tap Class from 6:30pm to 7:30pm."
I said, "I know."
....... (pause from Big Dog)
"Your kids didn't do their homework. There were problems."
I said, "Ok. It's fine."
Big Dog left.
I cleaned up the dishes in the sink. I took out the trash. I picked up everything from the living room and dining room and then vacuumed with help from a few of the little kids who moved chairs out of the way.
"What's for dinner?" asked Belle.
"Food", I replied.
"What's for dinner?" asked Lala.
"Food"
"What's for dinner?" asked Big Bug
Time to figure out an answer...... 20 minutes later and dinner was on the table. 10 minutes after that and I was picking up Micro from CCD. I told him he had 12 minutes to eat. Poor kid.
12 minutes later and everyone was loaded into the car to bring Belle and Micro to tap class. Thankfully there is a library next door. Lala and Big Bug got their homework done there.
Now for showers. ...... Gotta run...
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Dating Big Dog
I met him online. This is becoming more and more normal for grown-ups who can't stomach the bar/club scene. Internet dating is main stream now. I barely get an eyebrow anymore when people ask us how we met. In fact, the usual follow-up question from the inquirer is "really? which website?"
It wasn't E Harmony, that's for damn sure. (more on that later.)
Our first date was at a trendy bowling alley in downtown Philadelphia. I gave careful thought to my first date outfit. What did I want my outfit to say? Sexy, confident? of course, but I also wanted my clothes to say "there is no one quite like this girl."
My go-to designer jeans (I still can't beleive I ever paid $125 for a pair of jeans) were the perfect starting point. Shoes were important but not imperative because the first thing you do in a bowling alley is trade them in for a pair of sweet patchwork leather lace-ups. The top? That was the key. Couldn't be too sexy (hello. bowling alley) but it couldn't be boring either.
I chose a 3/4 sleeve zebra printed cotton top with a fit that was perfect for me. I found it in the Urban Outfitters catalog and immediately ordered it with express shipping. As for jewelery, my selection was perfect and has become the stuff of legend in our circle of friends.
I chose a necklace with delicate silver leaves strung together with a Y-shaped drop. I was thinking "it's perfect, organic, fits the theme".
Big Dog complimented me (nice move) and then noticed the necklace. He said "that's an interesting necklace."
I answered , with a smile, "it's leaves for the zebra to eat in case he gets hungry".
Big Dog looked at me, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. He was thinking Did she really just say that? Food for the zebra to eat? Who is this girl? There is no one like her.
Success!!
So now that Big Dog was interested in me (how could he resist?), it was time for him to make sure that I was interested in him. Besides my kids, the quickest way to my heart is with my favorite sports team.
Like any other rabid fan, I craved access and inside information. Big Dog covers my favorite team -- he is a sports writer, kind of like Ray Romano's character on "Everybody Loves Raymond". He is a self-proclaimed "jaded SOB" when it comes to sports (it's just a job after all and players are just the hired talent) but he put this aside and started offering me an inside view.
A month after we started dating I went on my first away game with my favorite team. I had a million questions, of course.
"Are they staying in our hotel?" (no)
"Do you know where they are staying?" (no, don't care)
"Where do they hang out before/after the game?" (they are getting off a bus and then getting back on one to go home)
"Where is my seat?"
(beat)
Big Dog said, "um actually I couldn't get you a ticket. You can try to buy one at the box office. Good luck with that. I have to go into the stadium now and get to work."
I thought WTF? I have to go buy my ticket? Where is my inside access?
The highlight of that "road game" was saying good-bye to Big Dog at the Media Entrance and running into the General Manager of the team along with the TV broadcast team. The guys noticed us, smiled knowingly and said "hey there (Big Dog)".
I thought OMG. The broadcast team knows him. Cool! (I was easily impressed)
A few weeks later Big Dog started to tell little stories about people he works with finding out that he was seeing someone. I learned that Big Dog had been single for quite a while and folks were interested to hear that he had met someone interesting.
Apparently even the players started hearing stories about Big Dog's new girlfriend.
One night I got an email from Big Dog telling this story:
"Your favorite player heard that I was dating something. He also knows that he is your favorite player. You know that he (scored twice) tonight, right? Well, he came into the locker room after the game and told me that I should tell you that he scored the second one just for you. He was thinking that by telling you this it might help me "get lucky". I laughed at him and told him "thanks" but that I didn't need his help to get lucky. LOL!"
Ok, so my favorite player knows that I'm out there cheering for him and "getting lucky" with Big Dog. Was this what I had in mind when I craved access to my favorite team? lol. not really.
You have to give Big Dog credit for trying though.....
The following weekend we were out for another road game. Driving along the turnpike, Big Dog casually mentioned, "You know, I bet we will be arriving at the hotel around the same time that the team bus is leaving for the stadium."
I gasped. "What? We are staying at the same hotel as the team? Why didn't you tell me this? I would have brought a different bag!"
Big Dog rolled his eyes and said, "why in the world would any of the players on this team care what kind of overnight suitcase you are carrying?!"
I shrieked "You just don't understand!" (in hindsight, neither do I actually)
As we pulled into the parking lot of the hotel a giant tour bus was parked 50 feet from the entrance to the main lobby.
I took a deep breath in.
Big Dog laughed at me. "You will be fine. Breathe."
Then it happened. Just as we were walking through the double doors of the lobby, my favorite player came walking out to get on the bus to the stadium. He looked at us and said "hey (Big Dog)".
Big Dog said "hi" back.
I nearly fainted.
Up in the hotel room I was able to regain my composure. No big deal. The players are staying here. They are in the lobby, standing around and getting ready to ride over to the stadium. No big deal. Let's go.
We were riding the elevator down to the lobby when the doors opened again for another rider. Into the elevator walked the captain of my favorite sports team. Are you kidding? I just started breathing again! The Captain and Big Dog said "hey". I stayed cool. Sort of. And then, for no reason, I said (out loud. OMG) "Big Dog, we should go bowling again soon."
Big Dog stared at me dumb founded. The Captain kept his eyes forward.
Oh no, what did I just say? why did I say that?
Thankfully the elevator doors opened just then and deposited all of us into the lobby.
Big Dog smiled at me and said "well, that went well."
It wasn't E Harmony, that's for damn sure. (more on that later.)
Our first date was at a trendy bowling alley in downtown Philadelphia. I gave careful thought to my first date outfit. What did I want my outfit to say? Sexy, confident? of course, but I also wanted my clothes to say "there is no one quite like this girl."
My go-to designer jeans (I still can't beleive I ever paid $125 for a pair of jeans) were the perfect starting point. Shoes were important but not imperative because the first thing you do in a bowling alley is trade them in for a pair of sweet patchwork leather lace-ups. The top? That was the key. Couldn't be too sexy (hello. bowling alley) but it couldn't be boring either.
I chose a 3/4 sleeve zebra printed cotton top with a fit that was perfect for me. I found it in the Urban Outfitters catalog and immediately ordered it with express shipping. As for jewelery, my selection was perfect and has become the stuff of legend in our circle of friends.
I chose a necklace with delicate silver leaves strung together with a Y-shaped drop. I was thinking "it's perfect, organic, fits the theme".
Big Dog complimented me (nice move) and then noticed the necklace. He said "that's an interesting necklace."
I answered , with a smile, "it's leaves for the zebra to eat in case he gets hungry".
Big Dog looked at me, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. He was thinking Did she really just say that? Food for the zebra to eat? Who is this girl? There is no one like her.
Success!!
So now that Big Dog was interested in me (how could he resist?), it was time for him to make sure that I was interested in him. Besides my kids, the quickest way to my heart is with my favorite sports team.
Like any other rabid fan, I craved access and inside information. Big Dog covers my favorite team -- he is a sports writer, kind of like Ray Romano's character on "Everybody Loves Raymond". He is a self-proclaimed "jaded SOB" when it comes to sports (it's just a job after all and players are just the hired talent) but he put this aside and started offering me an inside view.
A month after we started dating I went on my first away game with my favorite team. I had a million questions, of course.
"Are they staying in our hotel?" (no)
"Do you know where they are staying?" (no, don't care)
"Where do they hang out before/after the game?" (they are getting off a bus and then getting back on one to go home)
"Where is my seat?"
(beat)
Big Dog said, "um actually I couldn't get you a ticket. You can try to buy one at the box office. Good luck with that. I have to go into the stadium now and get to work."
I thought WTF? I have to go buy my ticket? Where is my inside access?
The highlight of that "road game" was saying good-bye to Big Dog at the Media Entrance and running into the General Manager of the team along with the TV broadcast team. The guys noticed us, smiled knowingly and said "hey there (Big Dog)".
I thought OMG. The broadcast team knows him. Cool! (I was easily impressed)
A few weeks later Big Dog started to tell little stories about people he works with finding out that he was seeing someone. I learned that Big Dog had been single for quite a while and folks were interested to hear that he had met someone interesting.
Apparently even the players started hearing stories about Big Dog's new girlfriend.
One night I got an email from Big Dog telling this story:
"Your favorite player heard that I was dating something. He also knows that he is your favorite player. You know that he (scored twice) tonight, right? Well, he came into the locker room after the game and told me that I should tell you that he scored the second one just for you. He was thinking that by telling you this it might help me "get lucky". I laughed at him and told him "thanks" but that I didn't need his help to get lucky. LOL!"
Ok, so my favorite player knows that I'm out there cheering for him and "getting lucky" with Big Dog. Was this what I had in mind when I craved access to my favorite team? lol. not really.
You have to give Big Dog credit for trying though.....
The following weekend we were out for another road game. Driving along the turnpike, Big Dog casually mentioned, "You know, I bet we will be arriving at the hotel around the same time that the team bus is leaving for the stadium."
I gasped. "What? We are staying at the same hotel as the team? Why didn't you tell me this? I would have brought a different bag!"
Big Dog rolled his eyes and said, "why in the world would any of the players on this team care what kind of overnight suitcase you are carrying?!"
I shrieked "You just don't understand!" (in hindsight, neither do I actually)
As we pulled into the parking lot of the hotel a giant tour bus was parked 50 feet from the entrance to the main lobby.
I took a deep breath in.
Big Dog laughed at me. "You will be fine. Breathe."
Then it happened. Just as we were walking through the double doors of the lobby, my favorite player came walking out to get on the bus to the stadium. He looked at us and said "hey (Big Dog)".
Big Dog said "hi" back.
I nearly fainted.
Up in the hotel room I was able to regain my composure. No big deal. The players are staying here. They are in the lobby, standing around and getting ready to ride over to the stadium. No big deal. Let's go.
We were riding the elevator down to the lobby when the doors opened again for another rider. Into the elevator walked the captain of my favorite sports team. Are you kidding? I just started breathing again! The Captain and Big Dog said "hey". I stayed cool. Sort of. And then, for no reason, I said (out loud. OMG) "Big Dog, we should go bowling again soon."
Big Dog stared at me dumb founded. The Captain kept his eyes forward.
Oh no, what did I just say? why did I say that?
Thankfully the elevator doors opened just then and deposited all of us into the lobby.
Big Dog smiled at me and said "well, that went well."
Friday, October 15, 2010
Big Dog
I met Big Dog online after dating for 2 years. Previous to meeting him, I seemed to specialize in meeting "assholes and cheaters". It was becoming a catch phrase for me. "Assholes and Cheaters".
Here was a typical Sunday morning conversation with one of my girlfriends:
"So you went out with (insert any name here) last night? How did it go?"
"He's an asshole."
"Really? He looked so good in his profile. I'm surprised."
"I'm not. They are all assholes or cheaters."
"You are getting cynical."
"Not cynical. Experienced. I think I have now dated every so-called eligible man in a 30 mile radius. If he isn't a pompous, immature prick then it usually means that he is out cheating on his wife."
"Sam, you will meet someone. When you least expect it, he will enter your life".
(groan from me)
"Nope. I'm done. I'm not dating anymore. I just can't do it. I would rather be alone and pay for my own meals on Saturday nights then put up with this crap any more."
Sound familiar? This exact conversation probably repeats itself every Sunday morning millions of times with millions of good friends bemoaning the state of things.
As a newly divorced woman with two kids, I wasn't out there looking for a hook-up. Certainly not. I was looking for someone to restore my faith in monogamy. I needed someone who would tell me that it was going to be ok.
Not finding anyone, I did the next best thing. I found myself. Good thing too because I was completely lost for most of a decade. (more on that later)
So, true to the saying "you find what you are looking for when you stop looking for it", I found Big Dog.
Here's how it went.
I was taking my profile down from the personals site but decided to do one last search. I entered my favorite sport in the search box and expanded the search radius to 100 miles. Clicking through the pictures (no one reads the profiles), one image caught my eye. The picture showed a normal guy in a suit standing front and center where my favorite team plays. That was weird. What was this guy doing? How did he have access to that spot? I clicked on his profile.
It was written just for me. He was looking for me. His description of himself and dreams for the future were compelling. I "winked" at him.
A few hours later I got an email from him. He was funny and smart and interested in me.
I paid my $20 for another month's subscription to the online service and emailed him back.
And the rest is history.....
Big Dog is a professional sports writer for a large newspaper chain. He also happens to cover my favorite team on a full-time basis. He realized quickly that this was a good feature in my eyes and certainly played that card often in the early days (but continues to play it now too).
Big Dog is very good at what he does. He is smart, opinionated, charismatic and a master strategist. Obviously he is everything that my ex-husband wasn't. Big Dog loves what he calls "social experiments".
I say this often, I don't ever want to be on his bad side.
Big Dog loves me though. He accepts me for exactly who I am while simultaneously supporting me to be the best person I can. I am stronger because of him. I am more confident. I am more realistic. I am hopeful.
Here was a typical Sunday morning conversation with one of my girlfriends:
"So you went out with (insert any name here) last night? How did it go?"
"He's an asshole."
"Really? He looked so good in his profile. I'm surprised."
"I'm not. They are all assholes or cheaters."
"You are getting cynical."
"Not cynical. Experienced. I think I have now dated every so-called eligible man in a 30 mile radius. If he isn't a pompous, immature prick then it usually means that he is out cheating on his wife."
"Sam, you will meet someone. When you least expect it, he will enter your life".
(groan from me)
"Nope. I'm done. I'm not dating anymore. I just can't do it. I would rather be alone and pay for my own meals on Saturday nights then put up with this crap any more."
Sound familiar? This exact conversation probably repeats itself every Sunday morning millions of times with millions of good friends bemoaning the state of things.
As a newly divorced woman with two kids, I wasn't out there looking for a hook-up. Certainly not. I was looking for someone to restore my faith in monogamy. I needed someone who would tell me that it was going to be ok.
Not finding anyone, I did the next best thing. I found myself. Good thing too because I was completely lost for most of a decade. (more on that later)
So, true to the saying "you find what you are looking for when you stop looking for it", I found Big Dog.
Here's how it went.
I was taking my profile down from the personals site but decided to do one last search. I entered my favorite sport in the search box and expanded the search radius to 100 miles. Clicking through the pictures (no one reads the profiles), one image caught my eye. The picture showed a normal guy in a suit standing front and center where my favorite team plays. That was weird. What was this guy doing? How did he have access to that spot? I clicked on his profile.
It was written just for me. He was looking for me. His description of himself and dreams for the future were compelling. I "winked" at him.
A few hours later I got an email from him. He was funny and smart and interested in me.
I paid my $20 for another month's subscription to the online service and emailed him back.
And the rest is history.....
Big Dog is a professional sports writer for a large newspaper chain. He also happens to cover my favorite team on a full-time basis. He realized quickly that this was a good feature in my eyes and certainly played that card often in the early days (but continues to play it now too).
Big Dog is very good at what he does. He is smart, opinionated, charismatic and a master strategist. Obviously he is everything that my ex-husband wasn't. Big Dog loves what he calls "social experiments".
I say this often, I don't ever want to be on his bad side.
Big Dog loves me though. He accepts me for exactly who I am while simultaneously supporting me to be the best person I can. I am stronger because of him. I am more confident. I am more realistic. I am hopeful.
Welcome to the Juggle
Hi there,
Welcome to the Juggle.
The Juggle is the crazy day-to-day life of my family of seven. That's right, 7.
We are a newly blended family consisting of me (Sam, the Mom), my significant other ("Big Dog" -- more on him later), and our kids -- "Junior" (age 14), "Belle" (age 10), "Micro" (age almost 9), "Big Bug" (just turned 8) and "Lala" (6).
The youngest two are mine and the oldest three are Big Dog's.
Big Dog and I started dating almost 4 years ago. Those of you who are divorced with kids know how tricky dating can be. We went through lots of normal ups and downs but we definitely figured out that we were going to be together for the rest of our lives.
So here we are. Now performing the same Juggling Act that countless other families are doing each day..... How exactly do you get 5 kids to sports, dance, Girl/Boy Scouts, finish homework, provide enriching experiences, hang out with friends, feed, clothe and nurture..... etc., etc., etc........
I figure I'm the perfect person for this new blended life. As the oldest in a family of 5 kids, I got my necessary training hours in early.
sigh. Gotta switch the laundry. Stay tuned....
Welcome to the Juggle.
The Juggle is the crazy day-to-day life of my family of seven. That's right, 7.
We are a newly blended family consisting of me (Sam, the Mom), my significant other ("Big Dog" -- more on him later), and our kids -- "Junior" (age 14), "Belle" (age 10), "Micro" (age almost 9), "Big Bug" (just turned 8) and "Lala" (6).
The youngest two are mine and the oldest three are Big Dog's.
Big Dog and I started dating almost 4 years ago. Those of you who are divorced with kids know how tricky dating can be. We went through lots of normal ups and downs but we definitely figured out that we were going to be together for the rest of our lives.
So here we are. Now performing the same Juggling Act that countless other families are doing each day..... How exactly do you get 5 kids to sports, dance, Girl/Boy Scouts, finish homework, provide enriching experiences, hang out with friends, feed, clothe and nurture..... etc., etc., etc........
I figure I'm the perfect person for this new blended life. As the oldest in a family of 5 kids, I got my necessary training hours in early.
sigh. Gotta switch the laundry. Stay tuned....
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