I don't like answering the phone. This may seem incredibly odd to some since my job revolves around the phone (but I push through). While I am at home, I don't like answering the home phone because one of three people are on the other end: a telemarketer, an in-law with whom I have to make incredibly awkward conversation while racing to get Ching on the phone or this:
(The caller ID pops up on the television--it says Kevin Krise. I know no one of this name.)
JCW: "Hello?" I have a very pleasant hello, calming yet inviting, totally goes against the grain.
KK: "Taylor's Mom?"
JCW: Well hello to you too. "I believe you have the wrong number." Funny how I will give a total stranger the benefit of the doubt when I know with every breath in my body that he is wrong and I am write. Believe, Schmelieve.
KK: "I am looking for Taylor's mom?"
JCW: Dude, I get that. "You have the wrong number."
KK: "You don't have a daughter named Taylor?"
JCW: This is where I get pissed BECAUSE I actually doubt my own sanity--Do I have a daughter named Taylor? No, no, no...it's been a long day, but God damn--I have two daughters, Laurel and Rachel. And does this guy think that a mother wouldn't own up to her own daughter? Is she moody and terrible; mean and unkind? Sounds like I need to shield my girls from this Taylor. "Again...no, no one by Taylor lives here."
KK: "Okay"...sounding defeated and skeptical.
Listen KK, like I told the other Wangs...just two kids here, not three like some people want. Straight to voicemail next time...straight to voicemail....
Tuesday, February 4, 2014
Monday, January 20, 2014
Basically I am dressing her like she is a college guy as she is walking around like a little modern day George Jefferson.
The past few days would not be good for my mother of the year standing with Rachel. Basically I am dressing her like she is a college guy as she is walking around like a little modern day George Jefferson.
First--I need to get Rachel some new leggings. After awhile these little holes just develop in the knees and I really don't want to send her to school with holey pants. Sometimes Rachel insists on wearing the pants if I don't catch the hole before she does. She likes to go into school with a Band-Aid on the hole like her pants are wounded. The problem is that she doesn't have 5 pairs of pants/leggings without holes so I should do a load of wash during the week. But the past week was busy and I didn't get to it. By Friday, I was going through the dirty laundry to find a pair of leggings sans holes, doing the sniff test. Just like some college guy--smells just fine, must still be clean. (Yes, I am making a generalization about college guys.) While they could have smelled okay to me they were technically dirty, but at least didn't have holes in them. Rachel had no idea but I knew. I tried to reassure myself as I left her at school that her pants didn't smell too stinky. (Note to self, "pick up leggings")
If dressing your child in dirty clothes was bad enough, then there is this. When Rachel and I leave the house in the morning, she likes to listen to Thriftshop by Macklemore. I don't know why, she just loves this song. At first it was okay, when she just repeated "I gon' pop some tags" over and over. But now it's not okay. Even with the clean version, she has seemed to have picked up on the use of the word "honky". When she said it, I almost swerved off the road. I told her that this word wasn't okay and then tried to sell another song to listen too. As soon as I say this..."Honky, honky, honky" is all she wants to say reminiscent of a good old Norman Lear sitcom. While she says that she won't say it in school, I just see a miniature version of George Jefferson walking into younger pre-school. All day at work, I kept imaging Rachel screaming the word honky in her preschool class and getting a call. Or worse, the school mentioning the word choice to our sitter who was picking her up that night, and then her having to tell me later. Bad, JCW, just bad--why did you let her listen to that song? It is out of the rotation and back to Wheels on the Bus...no matter how much songs like this push me closer to the edge in the morning. God, this is really bad...and I am totally going to blame Ching.
I would like to think that I will have my act together as a mother when both Laurel and Rachel are both more self sufficient....
First--I need to get Rachel some new leggings. After awhile these little holes just develop in the knees and I really don't want to send her to school with holey pants. Sometimes Rachel insists on wearing the pants if I don't catch the hole before she does. She likes to go into school with a Band-Aid on the hole like her pants are wounded. The problem is that she doesn't have 5 pairs of pants/leggings without holes so I should do a load of wash during the week. But the past week was busy and I didn't get to it. By Friday, I was going through the dirty laundry to find a pair of leggings sans holes, doing the sniff test. Just like some college guy--smells just fine, must still be clean. (Yes, I am making a generalization about college guys.) While they could have smelled okay to me they were technically dirty, but at least didn't have holes in them. Rachel had no idea but I knew. I tried to reassure myself as I left her at school that her pants didn't smell too stinky. (Note to self, "pick up leggings")
If dressing your child in dirty clothes was bad enough, then there is this. When Rachel and I leave the house in the morning, she likes to listen to Thriftshop by Macklemore. I don't know why, she just loves this song. At first it was okay, when she just repeated "I gon' pop some tags" over and over. But now it's not okay. Even with the clean version, she has seemed to have picked up on the use of the word "honky". When she said it, I almost swerved off the road. I told her that this word wasn't okay and then tried to sell another song to listen too. As soon as I say this..."Honky, honky, honky" is all she wants to say reminiscent of a good old Norman Lear sitcom. While she says that she won't say it in school, I just see a miniature version of George Jefferson walking into younger pre-school. All day at work, I kept imaging Rachel screaming the word honky in her preschool class and getting a call. Or worse, the school mentioning the word choice to our sitter who was picking her up that night, and then her having to tell me later. Bad, JCW, just bad--why did you let her listen to that song? It is out of the rotation and back to Wheels on the Bus...no matter how much songs like this push me closer to the edge in the morning. God, this is really bad...and I am totally going to blame Ching.
I would like to think that I will have my act together as a mother when both Laurel and Rachel are both more self sufficient....
Sunday, January 19, 2014
Who am I kidding? I am too white and uptight to swirl my head and say, "Oh no, he did'n'" with sass.
While I have complained about my commute in the past, I am trying to find the serenity in it. The time that is my own with my thoughts. As long as I can give myself the time, I can to girls in time. And the Bluetooth feature helps immensely so I can listen to my own music off my phone.
The commute on Friday started like this. Even with the bottleneck getting to get on the Pike that sucked up some time, I gave myself an extra 30 minutes so I wasn't panicked. I said a little prayer, reminded myself to be kind (new thing--it kind of works), and settled into the commute very aware that it may take me 90 minutes to get both girls. The same commute that on some nights takes 25 minutes.
But after the tollbooth, things went amok. There was a car very, very close to my back bumper--so close that I couldn't see his headlights. (That's right, I assumed right then and there that it was a guy.) It was scaring the crap out of me. Dude, this car is new--I cannot be the first Wang to put a ding in it. I couldn't even relax to my Kenny Loggins play list. What the hell was this guy doing? I couldn't get over to another lane--the traffic was quite thick and it was a very slow stop and go. Even if he did get by me, there were several cars just like me just crawling along.
He finally passed me and gave me this look that clearly said "Dumb Bitch." I will have none of that, serenity was tossed out of the window, and I flicked him off. Then, "Oh no he did not" (Who am I kidding? I am too white and uptight to swirl my head and say, "Oh no, he did'n'" with sass.), this mo'fo spit on my car.
Who does that? Immediately, I start judging him...his crap car that is probably uninsured. His three baby mamas and the assumption that he is a deadbeat father. Maybe he is late for his job at Taco Bell. I, then, kind of chuckle about how many other cars will have grossness spat at them too because traffic isn't good. Perhaps if he is going to a food service job, it is probably a good thing that he is getting all his phlegm out now.
I use my wiper fluid to get some of the guck off my windshield. It's dark so I don't have to see any of it on the side. I let it go. I am not sure why or where it came from, but I let it go. Maybe it's Michael McDonald of the Doobie Brothers....again, not sure. It would be nice to think it was maturity.
Well, I didn't totally let it go because I am telling you now. Also it snow/rained the next day--my car is now completely clean.
The commute on Friday started like this. Even with the bottleneck getting to get on the Pike that sucked up some time, I gave myself an extra 30 minutes so I wasn't panicked. I said a little prayer, reminded myself to be kind (new thing--it kind of works), and settled into the commute very aware that it may take me 90 minutes to get both girls. The same commute that on some nights takes 25 minutes.
But after the tollbooth, things went amok. There was a car very, very close to my back bumper--so close that I couldn't see his headlights. (That's right, I assumed right then and there that it was a guy.) It was scaring the crap out of me. Dude, this car is new--I cannot be the first Wang to put a ding in it. I couldn't even relax to my Kenny Loggins play list. What the hell was this guy doing? I couldn't get over to another lane--the traffic was quite thick and it was a very slow stop and go. Even if he did get by me, there were several cars just like me just crawling along.
He finally passed me and gave me this look that clearly said "Dumb Bitch." I will have none of that, serenity was tossed out of the window, and I flicked him off. Then, "Oh no he did not" (Who am I kidding? I am too white and uptight to swirl my head and say, "Oh no, he did'n'" with sass.), this mo'fo spit on my car.
Who does that? Immediately, I start judging him...his crap car that is probably uninsured. His three baby mamas and the assumption that he is a deadbeat father. Maybe he is late for his job at Taco Bell. I, then, kind of chuckle about how many other cars will have grossness spat at them too because traffic isn't good. Perhaps if he is going to a food service job, it is probably a good thing that he is getting all his phlegm out now.
I use my wiper fluid to get some of the guck off my windshield. It's dark so I don't have to see any of it on the side. I let it go. I am not sure why or where it came from, but I let it go. Maybe it's Michael McDonald of the Doobie Brothers....again, not sure. It would be nice to think it was maturity.
Well, I didn't totally let it go because I am telling you now. Also it snow/rained the next day--my car is now completely clean.
Monday, January 13, 2014
I feel like that Cookie the cook from City Slickers--"The food is hot, brown (or orange) and plenty of it."
I need to boycott making dinner. I can fend for myself and let the rest of the Wangs become hunters and gatherers...actually they would just be gatherers of snacks, dairy, sliced apples and take out.
CCW: "What's for dinner?"
JCW: My shoulders drop--why does this matter? Are you not going to eat it? "Maybe you can wait and be surprised."
CCW: "You know if you told me now, it would still be a surprise...to me now."
JCW: "We are having salmon, steamed carrots and quinoa." Yes, I know--the dinner has an orange theme. It's not very creative--but it's been a long day. I feel like that Cookie the cook from City Slickers--"The food is hot, brown (or orange) and plenty of it."
CCW: "We are having salmon again?"
JCW: Jesus Christ--it's not cat food. And we only have fish once a week. "It was the fish that was on sale this week"
CCW: "What other fish did they have?"
JCW: "Nothing that was on sale--this is it." I can't justify spending 12.99 on a different fish when there is perfectly good salmon at 7.99.
Same conversation, different Wang.
JCW: "Hey Rachel, I am making you and Laurel chicken nuggets tonight."
RJW: "I don't like chicken nuggets"
JCW: "These are DINOSAUR chicken nuggets and you love these." The fact that I use a little sing song voice when I say dinosaur makes me die a little inside.
RJW: "Okay, but I don't want the red ones."
JCW: I have no idea what this means but I just move on to the task at hand. Maybe I should get one of those hats that says "Cookie".
DINNER!!!
JCW: Jesus Christ--Where are they? Three minutes ago, they are sniffing around like rodents and now I have to lure them back into the dining room.
RJW: "I don't want my fruit--I don't like it."
LAW: "Can I eat her mango?"
JCW: "Laurel can you just focus on what is on your plate?" Maybe she is a hunter..
RJW: "The orange has white stuff on it--can you take it off?"
JCW: I look over at Ching and he is eating at breakneck speed--he is just trying to eat without tasting it. He is lucky. I could have served kale. I can't get all of the white off of the orange to Rachel's satisfaction. I just want to enjoy my dinner even though I will admit blandness.
I think tomorrow night, I will just leave out cereal boxes and milk.
CCW: "What's for dinner?"
JCW: My shoulders drop--why does this matter? Are you not going to eat it? "Maybe you can wait and be surprised."
CCW: "You know if you told me now, it would still be a surprise...to me now."
JCW: "We are having salmon, steamed carrots and quinoa." Yes, I know--the dinner has an orange theme. It's not very creative--but it's been a long day. I feel like that Cookie the cook from City Slickers--"The food is hot, brown (or orange) and plenty of it."
CCW: "We are having salmon again?"
JCW: Jesus Christ--it's not cat food. And we only have fish once a week. "It was the fish that was on sale this week"
CCW: "What other fish did they have?"
JCW: "Nothing that was on sale--this is it." I can't justify spending 12.99 on a different fish when there is perfectly good salmon at 7.99.
Same conversation, different Wang.
JCW: "Hey Rachel, I am making you and Laurel chicken nuggets tonight."
RJW: "I don't like chicken nuggets"
JCW: "These are DINOSAUR chicken nuggets and you love these." The fact that I use a little sing song voice when I say dinosaur makes me die a little inside.
RJW: "Okay, but I don't want the red ones."
JCW: I have no idea what this means but I just move on to the task at hand. Maybe I should get one of those hats that says "Cookie".
DINNER!!!
JCW: Jesus Christ--Where are they? Three minutes ago, they are sniffing around like rodents and now I have to lure them back into the dining room.
RJW: "I don't want my fruit--I don't like it."
LAW: "Can I eat her mango?"
JCW: "Laurel can you just focus on what is on your plate?" Maybe she is a hunter..
RJW: "The orange has white stuff on it--can you take it off?"
JCW: I look over at Ching and he is eating at breakneck speed--he is just trying to eat without tasting it. He is lucky. I could have served kale. I can't get all of the white off of the orange to Rachel's satisfaction. I just want to enjoy my dinner even though I will admit blandness.
I think tomorrow night, I will just leave out cereal boxes and milk.
Sunday, January 12, 2014
Recently I was talking to a co-worker's child over the holidays while I was sitting at my desk. I almost said the f-bomb three times and let it slip that there was no tooth fairy.
Very rarely do I speak of work on my blog. I don't like to intertwine the two worlds of working (outside the home) and being a mother.
I have spoken about this before--I am a totally different person when I am at work compared to being at home. I actually don't like bringing the girls into my place of work. (Ching lives for that shit--showing people how cute and behaved the girls are.) Laurel has only been at my office once over the last five years and she begged to come in to see my office. Ching has an office; I don't. I hope she was impressed by the fact that my cubicle is by a window. I made her sit at my desk and eat her choice lunch of pizza, Doritos, yogurt and chocolate milk. If anyone wanted to say hello to Laurel, they could but I wasn't going to walk her around.
Part of me doesn't want people to see JCW as Mama Wang, the other is I don't want to be disruptive. If people wanted to hang out kids during their work day and they had kids, I would bet they would choose their kids over mine. But mainly, I am JCW at work and it's very hard to get out of that mode even when Laurel is right next to me. Recently I was talking to a co-worker's child over the holidays while I was sitting at my desk. I almost said the f-bomb three times and let it slip that there was no tooth fairy.
But this week, with extensive work meetings and events, I thought about Laurel and Rachel often. I thought of them when I heard creative names and was thankful that I didn't stray into the "creative" when I named them (even though Laurel thinks her name is uncool). I think of them when I see pictures of a child and I am convinced that I have the most beautiful children. I am thankful that I can use them as excuses to leave early but I do have to chuckle when I am home with them and want to be at the event.
I was able to perfect the 30 second "elevator speech" of how the girls are doing so well that perhaps that it sounded like I rented them as opposed to raising them.
But no matter how long the meetings were, I was so grateful to see them at the end of the day. Not going to lie, I was also grateful that they were asleep.
I have spoken about this before--I am a totally different person when I am at work compared to being at home. I actually don't like bringing the girls into my place of work. (Ching lives for that shit--showing people how cute and behaved the girls are.) Laurel has only been at my office once over the last five years and she begged to come in to see my office. Ching has an office; I don't. I hope she was impressed by the fact that my cubicle is by a window. I made her sit at my desk and eat her choice lunch of pizza, Doritos, yogurt and chocolate milk. If anyone wanted to say hello to Laurel, they could but I wasn't going to walk her around.
Part of me doesn't want people to see JCW as Mama Wang, the other is I don't want to be disruptive. If people wanted to hang out kids during their work day and they had kids, I would bet they would choose their kids over mine. But mainly, I am JCW at work and it's very hard to get out of that mode even when Laurel is right next to me. Recently I was talking to a co-worker's child over the holidays while I was sitting at my desk. I almost said the f-bomb three times and let it slip that there was no tooth fairy.
But this week, with extensive work meetings and events, I thought about Laurel and Rachel often. I thought of them when I heard creative names and was thankful that I didn't stray into the "creative" when I named them (even though Laurel thinks her name is uncool). I think of them when I see pictures of a child and I am convinced that I have the most beautiful children. I am thankful that I can use them as excuses to leave early but I do have to chuckle when I am home with them and want to be at the event.
I was able to perfect the 30 second "elevator speech" of how the girls are doing so well that perhaps that it sounded like I rented them as opposed to raising them.
But no matter how long the meetings were, I was so grateful to see them at the end of the day. Not going to lie, I was also grateful that they were asleep.
Sunday, January 5, 2014
Is this the time when they should start paying their dues?
I don't know how to undo this damage. Bad haircut...just let it grow. Bad lipstick...wash it off. Bad comment to someone...apologize. Bad tattoo...laser.
But this...I have spoiled my kids and I am not sure how to undue the damage. I certainly didn't become a mother with the intent of giving them everything. But I don't want to be blind and say that it just happened. I do remember when it started. It was the day that they were born. Immediately I wanted to give them the world but I wanted them to pay their dues...eventually. I tried to be careful about what I doled out...then I wasn't...and then it snowballed.
Ching was a sucker right away. He is weak. He would go to Target for diapers with Laurel in tow and come home for a toy that Laurel "just had to have". Laurel was very verbal at a very young age. At that point I knew it couldn't be the bad cop...if there was one, I got that glorious role.
My girls know what room service is. Birthday parties happen every year. Manicures with pedicures (Laurel only--please give me that) happen on an occasional basis. They do not get excited when go out to eat and they are rewarded for any big task--completion of Russian math semester for Laurel and pooping on the potty for Rachel. This is reminiscent of kids who used to get cash in for good grades--$2 for a A, $1 for a B. Back then I thought that was ridiculous for parents to do and now I am one of the parents.
Putting material things aside, Ching and I still force feed activities/play dates to our girls. We don't let them find their way through a Saturday or Sunday--just watching some t.v., playing in dirt and just being bored. We need to let the girls get bored and figure their own Saturday out.
God, I feel like such an idiot. Should I go cold turkey? What would happen if I just started saying no? Is this the time when they should start paying their dues? I need some answers because they are getting older and their tastes are getting very expensive.
But this...I have spoiled my kids and I am not sure how to undue the damage. I certainly didn't become a mother with the intent of giving them everything. But I don't want to be blind and say that it just happened. I do remember when it started. It was the day that they were born. Immediately I wanted to give them the world but I wanted them to pay their dues...eventually. I tried to be careful about what I doled out...then I wasn't...and then it snowballed.
Ching was a sucker right away. He is weak. He would go to Target for diapers with Laurel in tow and come home for a toy that Laurel "just had to have". Laurel was very verbal at a very young age. At that point I knew it couldn't be the bad cop...if there was one, I got that glorious role.
My girls know what room service is. Birthday parties happen every year. Manicures with pedicures (Laurel only--please give me that) happen on an occasional basis. They do not get excited when go out to eat and they are rewarded for any big task--completion of Russian math semester for Laurel and pooping on the potty for Rachel. This is reminiscent of kids who used to get cash in for good grades--$2 for a A, $1 for a B. Back then I thought that was ridiculous for parents to do and now I am one of the parents.
Putting material things aside, Ching and I still force feed activities/play dates to our girls. We don't let them find their way through a Saturday or Sunday--just watching some t.v., playing in dirt and just being bored. We need to let the girls get bored and figure their own Saturday out.
God, I feel like such an idiot. Should I go cold turkey? What would happen if I just started saying no? Is this the time when they should start paying their dues? I need some answers because they are getting older and their tastes are getting very expensive.
Friday, January 3, 2014
It took me 40 minutes to send one e-mail out this afternoon because I had to monitor several battles of she said, she said.
Yesterday with the news of the impending blizzard, I really dreaded the possibility of Friday. I would be home with the girls because they would have no school. The weather guy was right and we got a shitload of snow. Both Ching and I were home but I wish I was at work. I absolutely hate snow days.
I stayed home for two reasons--first the girls are home because there is no school. At least one adult needs to be home because it's not like they are cats. I just can't leave the t.v. on with a pile of food. Secondly, we live in a cul-de-sac. Our street is the very last street to be plowed in Newton--first the major roads, then side streets, maybe a dead end, then the cul-de-sacs. While our driveway was shoveled, we couldn't get to a major road. So as I have childless co-workers that live within walking distance to work, they are cursing under their frozen breath thinking that I am sitting at home.
But this isn't a vacation day. I bring my computer home with me hoping to get some work done. Conference calls are not good to have at home. Even with the door closed, Rachel presses herself at the bottom of the door yelling, "Mommy, can you hear me? Are you in there?" Any respect that I had prior to the call, is now gone. Trying to get e-mails sent is no better. It took me 40 minutes to send one e-mail out this afternoon because I had to monitor several battles of she said, she said.
"Mom, she took my toy!"
"She won't play with me!"
"Rachel touched me!"
"She is looking at me!"
"She just breathed on me!"
(I truly wanted to run away. Even if it was 6 degrees out.)
I have a split personality during snow days, not like a weekend day when I am just a mom. Today, as I jump off of two conference calls where I participated very little, I then went downstairs to make everyone lunch and God for freakin' bid if everyone wanted the same thing. After a clean up, I then go back to my work role at the dining room table. (Ching and I have an unspoken rule--we are both on our laptops in the dining room. You can only get solace of the den if you have a conference call. And today, when I thought Ching's conference call was running too long, you can bet for damn sure that my ear was pressed up against the door making sure ESPN wasn't on.)
I also want to be a work so I don't have to look at the house. It is an absolute mess. There is a pile of soggy winter gear in front of the door. That's right, not to the side of the door...right in front. (The girls were able to stand the cold for about 20 minutes). Toys are scattered everywhere. And there are plastic sippy cups/juice cups all over like we had a party the night before. Snack wrappers, sheets of paper with a random scribble, socks...God I want to be at work. It didn't help that today is Friday--the Wang household isn't the neatest on a Friday as it would be on a Monday.
Monday...probably the first Friday in a long time that has me looking forward to Monday. (As I quickly check the weather forecast.)
I stayed home for two reasons--first the girls are home because there is no school. At least one adult needs to be home because it's not like they are cats. I just can't leave the t.v. on with a pile of food. Secondly, we live in a cul-de-sac. Our street is the very last street to be plowed in Newton--first the major roads, then side streets, maybe a dead end, then the cul-de-sacs. While our driveway was shoveled, we couldn't get to a major road. So as I have childless co-workers that live within walking distance to work, they are cursing under their frozen breath thinking that I am sitting at home.
But this isn't a vacation day. I bring my computer home with me hoping to get some work done. Conference calls are not good to have at home. Even with the door closed, Rachel presses herself at the bottom of the door yelling, "Mommy, can you hear me? Are you in there?" Any respect that I had prior to the call, is now gone. Trying to get e-mails sent is no better. It took me 40 minutes to send one e-mail out this afternoon because I had to monitor several battles of she said, she said.
"Mom, she took my toy!"
"She won't play with me!"
"Rachel touched me!"
"She is looking at me!"
"She just breathed on me!"
(I truly wanted to run away. Even if it was 6 degrees out.)
I have a split personality during snow days, not like a weekend day when I am just a mom. Today, as I jump off of two conference calls where I participated very little, I then went downstairs to make everyone lunch and God for freakin' bid if everyone wanted the same thing. After a clean up, I then go back to my work role at the dining room table. (Ching and I have an unspoken rule--we are both on our laptops in the dining room. You can only get solace of the den if you have a conference call. And today, when I thought Ching's conference call was running too long, you can bet for damn sure that my ear was pressed up against the door making sure ESPN wasn't on.)
I also want to be a work so I don't have to look at the house. It is an absolute mess. There is a pile of soggy winter gear in front of the door. That's right, not to the side of the door...right in front. (The girls were able to stand the cold for about 20 minutes). Toys are scattered everywhere. And there are plastic sippy cups/juice cups all over like we had a party the night before. Snack wrappers, sheets of paper with a random scribble, socks...God I want to be at work. It didn't help that today is Friday--the Wang household isn't the neatest on a Friday as it would be on a Monday.
Monday...probably the first Friday in a long time that has me looking forward to Monday. (As I quickly check the weather forecast.)
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