tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-259161242024-03-07T01:50:18.409-05:00Come on Along!In which you join me on my trip into my new life post-divorce. I'm just living it. Without a Rule Book.MyThreeBlogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07817857109007712976noreply@blogger.comBlogger480125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25916124.post-73778724229871586592008-11-06T22:21:00.001-05:002008-11-06T22:21:50.560-05:00I'm movingWell, I'm going to try it out anyhow... I find myself thinking more and more that I give out too much information on this blog. I'm starting another one that's totally anonymous.<br /><br />SO - if you for some reason want the address for the new blog, feel free to email me at: withoutarulebook at gmail.com (I NEVER said I could come up with short pithy email names!) and I'll send you the link.<br /><br />Pretty sneaky, I know. But a girls' gotta be careful.<br /><br />Hope all five of you will come on over! (ok, sometimes there are 10!)MyThreeBlogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07817857109007712976noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25916124.post-76900696429301820652008-11-05T20:03:00.001-05:002008-11-05T20:03:49.089-05:00This is the stuff I hateI'm sick. Had to leave work early, have fever, upset stomach & generally just feel crappy.<br /><br />BUT - the kids are with X, and J is away... and actually it's not so bad to be alone. Quiet. Couch and comfy blanket all to myself...<br /><br />Then... (cue foreboding music) the phone rang............ X. You know, that man just knows.. just has that radar as to when to call.<br /><br />He asked if I check the kids homework. I said I did. He said that Nathan's teacher asked Max to check Nathan's homework... and that it seems like Nathan has no clue what he's doing. He says: "You think you're a good mother -- but you're not. You sit on the computer. I'm going to ask for custody -- I can bring them to school every morning if I get a car..."<br /><br />So, there are these two forces at work here... the one thing that yes -- I give the sitter a lot of responsibility with the homework. I do check it over... but I don't talk about it with the kids unless I notice a mistake. X says she is giving Nathan the answers. So... it's something that maybe I'm not the best at. And why does he know that? I mean, if he called & said "You're not talking to your kids" I'd call him on the bullshit... but I can't really with this.<br /><br />Then, the other part at play is knowing that I have sent homework & work books with the kids to X's house & he has never done them with them. That there are school calendars still stitting in the bottom of the overnight bag... that I don't take out & just keep going back and forth from his place to mine....<br /><br />And the fact that he is going to get a car?!? With what?!? He's unemployed! He's cut our support checks back by nearly $2000 monthly! TWO THOUSAND.<br /><br />Max was home with an upset stomach on Monday -- stayed with X -- who took him out for felafel. (He was going to take him out for samosas. Samosas. A nice, bland food....) So -- in reality... do I think that he will get custody -- do I think that he will actually even really TRY to do this. Probably not.<br /><br />But jeeze. I'm here, by myself...my body aches, my stomach aches, I feel like absolute crap -- and this is what I need to think about?!?! <br /><br />You know, you think the divorce means that all the shit ends -- but when you have kids it really really never does.MyThreeBlogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07817857109007712976noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25916124.post-43215733284573717712008-11-04T06:56:00.001-05:002008-11-04T06:56:45.513-05:00ThanksgivingSo I spoke to X yesterday. I am going to have the kids for Thanksgiving. It is his turn - but I asked if I could have them. I just cannot bare (bear? I never know that one! Should probably just write "stand".) the thought of not having them with me for this big family holiday. And since he's not American...<br /><br />But his wife is.<br /><br />And his Dad is going to be here, too.<br /><br />But we're going to be in NYC - watching the parade, and Thanksgiving is going to be at my Uncle's apt - on Central Park West -- and J's family is going to be coming, too. (Yep, families are pretty much all blended....)<br /><br />So I asked X & yesterday he said ok. "Bring them by Thursday night" he said. But he said, his wife said "Does this mean we will never have them for Thanksgiving?" And that really really touched me. I love how she thought about that, and voiced it to him. She wants them to be a family -- she considers my kids part of her family, to have them with her for that holiday. And that's really really cool. I don't feel threatened by that at all.<br /><br />But *I* want them.<br /><br />But dontcha know, being me... I feel guilty. See how I take this situation and still manage to over think it & feel guilty about it?<br /><br />Never a dull moment, being me.MyThreeBlogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07817857109007712976noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25916124.post-52833724847338862052008-11-03T22:29:00.001-05:002008-11-03T22:29:19.988-05:00Winning Tuesday: An urgent plea to Obama supporters (Lessig Blog)<a href="http://lessig.org/blog/2008/11/winning_tuesday_an_urgent_plea.html">Winning Tuesday: An urgent plea to Obama supporters (Lessig Blog)</a><br /><br />Posted using <a href="http://sharethis.com">ShareThis</a>MyThreeBlogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07817857109007712976noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25916124.post-45867150938485077272008-10-29T19:45:00.002-04:002008-10-29T19:46:22.431-04:00I feel like I haven't been posting lately. I guess because I haven't felt like posting. I haven't even really been following blogs. I haven't been timely in returning phone calls or emails. It started when I lost my job... and I guess I'm starting to come out of it. SO - the diagnostician in me would say it's probably a low grade depression. That's <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">ok</span>. I'm entitled.<br /><br />So, J & I have been talking more and more about the Big Move. This summer. I will move into Manhattan. With J. And the boys. I told him I thought we should have a room for his girls (assuming we'll be able to find anything we can afford. He's more the optimist on this front. I prefer to think of myself as the<span style="font-style: italic;"> realist</span>....) so they will feel like it's their place, too. It feels funny that we would be setting up a house/home without them included....<br /><br />I've come to terms with the whole "being the poorest in a rich neighborhood" -- because I think where we'll end up in Manhattan that issue won't be too extreme. And I've also come to terms with the whole diversity/lack of diversity<span style="font-style: italic;"> issue</span>. Yes. Queens is decidedly more diverse than Manhattan, no question... but in thinking about it I realized that I grew up on Long Island. A diverse area of Long Island -- but Long Island nonetheless. And my parents were/are not so interested in exploring different cultures. The only ethnic foods we ever went out for were Chinese & Italian. Not even Mexican! And I realized my parents' narrow world view when I worked at a student exchange organization: "Why would they host a Colombian student? They all do drugs." (I'm be embarrassed to admit that somebody I'm related to said that!) And look at me! I grew up interested in learning about different cultures, experiencing different cultures, eating all sorts of foods....<br /><br />SO - I guess what I"m getting at is.... maybe how I was brought up didn't play SO directly into who I am now. The big picture, sure... but... Who's to say if I brought my kids up here they wouldn't become so overwhelmed with diversity that they join the White <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Supremacists</span>?! (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Ok</span>, not so likely -- but you get my point.)<br /><br />But, what I still need to process is taking my kids out of their neighborhood. Their school. Their friends. Their Little League. I love their school. It is a small, community school. My dad went today to Nathan's Writing Celebration (neither X nor I could attend) and the assistant principal went up to him -- knew both boys.. was able to talk about them..<br /><br />Max has already voiced his opposition to moving. And it's so strange.... if you had asked me a few years ago how I would have felt about moving to the Upper West Side of NYC -- where I lived for most of my post-collegiate life -- I would have been all over it... But now....<br /><br />And I've talked to J about this. Oh yes I have. Because what has started to happen is it's slipping out in little passive aggressive ways... I realized it & figured I really better tell him what's on my mind. He does not want to leave where he is. He spent most of his married life (a good 20 years) compromising. He can't any more. He loves not commuting. He loves the neighborhood. And he tells me: "I will be unhappy there." So I think -- <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">ok</span> -- starting off living together it's better for both of us to be happy. It will not be a hardship for me to live on the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">UWS</span>. It's the kids. But I know kids are adaptable. And I know my kids are expressive and talk to me...<br /><br />So I know (I guess) that (ultimately) it will be <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">ok</span>.<br /><br />But still. (Have you noticed that most of my posts contain those two words?)<br /><br />You know, just when my life is calming down... something else? I have to move? Uproot my kids? Start them in a new school? They have to adjust to not seeing their dad during the week (probably), new friends, neighborhood, etc, etc.<br /><br />I just want stuff to be easy!! <br /><br />Yes, I know - it really never is. And I tell myself... it's better for all of us to be together, that that outweighs the difficulty of the transition and the adjustment.<br /><br />But you know - you'll be reading lots about all of this -- that's for sure! (And hey -- a move would make really good blog fodder, wouldn't it?!? So maybe that's a plus, too!)MyThreeBlogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07817857109007712976noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25916124.post-83474307522064015012008-10-26T22:09:00.001-04:002008-10-26T22:09:21.558-04:00It's Been a while...Ohmygoodness. I'm not even really sure where to begin. I've had all these blot posts floating around in my head forever... and now they seem so outdated!<br /><br />I've had a bit of a reality check with X. You know, he's annoying, frustrating, aggravating, etc, etc, etc. BUT - my new supervisor is currently going through a divorce. And wow. Was I and am I lucky. There are whole other worlds of pain you can go through.<br /><br />And when we took Nathan for a blood test last week - X came. And I used his wife's insurance. And the woman who took the insurance info was so impressed. "His wife?" and "He's here, too?!"<br /><br />And when X didn't let me into his apartment when I went to pick the boys up to bring them to Hebrew School (don't ask) & I spoke to him about it the next day. I asked: "What sort of message do you think it sends to them?" And he stopped. And he thought about it. And we talked about it. And I thought, you know... he's a dick... but...<br /><br />So. My new job.<br /><br />I started last Monday, so I've been there one full week. I think it will be good. Except -- my new supervisor (who is great, really) is, as I mentioned, going through a (rough) divorce. She has two kids (4 & 7) and has just been promoted to supervisor. Remember how I wasn't sure how *I* wanted to be a supervisor with just all *I* have on my plate... Well. This woman is a ball of stress. And I so, so, so feel for her. And I so, so, so know where she is and what she's going through.<br /><br />But.<br /><br />She's so busy & stressed that I really have to focus her to find out what I need to do. And it gets me stressed (collateral stressage?).<br /><br />But - It's so cool! I mean, I've never even really worked with people who have kids! Now I'm with a woman who is a single mom, two kids.... It's like we speak the same language! It's really wild.<br /><br />I'm sure it will even out. It's only been one week. AND..... the BEST part: It's SO CLOSE to where I live! 3 miles! 40 minutes by subway! I drop the kids off at the bus in the morning - it picks them up 8:20 - 8:30 & I'm there. On time! I was so worried about it I actually did two test runs - one via bus and one via subway! PLUS - my new supervisor lives nearby & can drive me home sometimes. AND, she says if I need a lift there I can call her. AND, Max & her son know each other from day camp last summer. AND Max & her son want to meet to talk about divorce!! Can you believe that?!?! She told her son about Max -- and he said he would like to talk to him. I told Max & he nodded his head sagely..."Maybe he could email me." (Just like his mom!)<br /><br />My sitter is back - with her one month old baby! It's so great to hold an infant... to see an infant. And she's so calm about it! It was raining her first day & she has to walk with him - in the Baby Bjorn - to pick the boys up! I call her: "How will you do this?!?" and she just replies "Ummm..... with an umbrella?" Oh. Right. I'll stop now.<br /><br />So, I guess that's kinda it for now.... Gotta go catch up on my blog READING now. Really fallen behind with that, too..MyThreeBlogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07817857109007712976noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25916124.post-47377460854872913822008-10-09T19:11:00.002-04:002008-10-09T19:24:38.062-04:00Forgiveness<span style="font-family:arial;color:#993300;">So today is <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yom_Kippur"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Yom</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Kippur</span></a>. My family are at <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">synagogue</span> & I am home. I did not fast. I woke up with the migraine from hell. I'm taking the three month birth control... so you get your period once every three months... EXCEPT they forget to tell you that when you get it... well... I don't want to venture into <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">TMI</span>... but suffice to say I'm not sure if the every three month deal is really worth it.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;color:#993300;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;color:#993300;">BUT - <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Yom</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Kippur</span> is supposed to be about forgiveness. So I've been thinking about this a lot. You know, I've never done anything I've ever regretted. You know, when I was "younger" it was always "no regrets." Sure I've done things I feel a bit uncomfortable about -- that were poor judgement -- but never anything that I've ever really just not been able to get over. To forgive myself for.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;color:#993300;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;color:#993300;">Except, for what happened this summer. With my client. With the video. You know, a holiday like this brings on some soul searching... and I'm really realizing how big this was. With me. For me. To me. And who do I ask for forgiveness? The woman? She doesn't know. She doesn't realize. My colleagues? You know, they've pretty much forgiven me. And the ones who haven't... well... you know -- I was just remembering another former colleague of ours. She had been fired for stealing money from a client. I remember people -- co workers talking about her. Bad mouthing her. I said to them: "You know, she was a friend. We don't know her side. We don't know what drove her to do this. We shouldn't put her down until we really know. We don't have to agree with what she did -- but this was out of character & we shouldn't bad mouth her so..."</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;color:#993300;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;color:#993300;">Well, the people I know who are not "nice" to me now -- are the same ones then. So I know I shouldn't be surprised.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;color:#993300;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;color:#993300;">And my supervisors... well... I don't know. I just don't know.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;color:#993300;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;color:#993300;">But ultimately -- I know -- I have to forgive myself. But it's so huge... this. And today, in <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">synagogue</span>... talking about forgiving - and I feel my eyes tear up. A rabbi sends an email. It says: 1) Acknowledge the sin and apologize.<br />2) Repair the damage or compensate the victim.<br />3) Don’t repeat the offense in the same or similar situation</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;color:#993300;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;color:#993300;">1) I do. 2) I can't. 3) I won't.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;color:#993300;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;color:#993300;">But still.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;color:#993300;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;color:#993300;">I ask my therapist -- how long do you think before I get over this? She says: "Getting fired is hard enough to get over... this is a bit more. Give it time." And I understand what she says.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;color:#993300;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;color:#993300;">But still.</span>MyThreeBlogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07817857109007712976noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25916124.post-10020530671517404202008-10-01T12:58:00.002-04:002008-10-01T13:14:50.843-04:00The search<span style="color:#cc0000;">So, I've gone on about four interviews. The first one, for the supervisor's position at the nursing home I pretty much screwed up. Panicked when they asked for references. Babbled. Gave out too much information. But, I've come to peace with that (I guess) -- it was my first interview & I really was just not ready for that to come up. Hadn't prepared for it. Never in my life been in the situation where I could possibly have a bad reference.</span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#993300;">This is something that's going to take a while to heal. No, I'm not beating myself up... but it was a big screw up on my part & the repercussions will be felt for a while. (<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Over dramatic</span> much?)</span><br /><span style="color:#993300;"></span><br /><span style="color:#006600;">Had another interview at an agency that works with blues & jazz musicians. Pretty cool, huh? I googled it & found out about the exec director who would be interviewing me. Found out she has kids. So, when I did the phone interview with her I took a chance. I said: "I have to go at 2:30, I have to pick up my kids." It worked. She asked about them, then she realized that I went to grad school while they were still young. She was impressed. She totally wanted to meet me. Based on that.</span><br /><span style="color:#006600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000099;">I met with her and another social worker. She asked me: (and this is not a usual question either -- and one that I usually would not answer... but...) "Are you a single mom?" I said I was. She said "I am, too - and so is she!" (Pointing to other social worker.) And I tell you - for the first time ever this worked. The single mom thing was not seen as a negative... but as a positive. </span><br /><span style="color:#000099;"></span><br /><span style="color:#663366;">When I sent her the thank you email she said how much she liked me -- but how they need to diversify the office. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Ok</span>. I understand. There were NO African Americans working in an agency that deals primarily with African Americans. Even I noticed that when I went in for the interview.</span><br /><span style="color:#663366;"></span><br /><span style="color:#006600;">But, the next day they called. Please come in for a try out. I did. When I got there nobody really knew what I was supposed to do. I listened in on some of the social work calls & made a call... but it was strange.</span><br /><span style="color:#006600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000099;">The day after I received an email from the Assistant: "my colleagues have decided to go with somebody else." Colleagues?! <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">WTF</span>? Whatever.</span><br /><span style="color:#000099;"></span><br /><span style="color:#666600;">Got calls for three more interviews.</span><br /><span style="color:#666600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#660000;">Went to one last Friday - at an SRO for formerly homeless seniors. A well respected agency. I think they'll call me back for a second interview.</span><br /><span style="color:#660000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#006600;">Then this past Monday I went on an interview at a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">NORC</span> here in Queens. In <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Woodside</span>. Close by. It was pretty much the same job I had before & the director was <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">estactic</span>! I said "yep, there's pretty much no learning curve." and I think that clinched it.</span><br /><span style="color:#006600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#993300;">I spoke to her today & they're offering me the job, contingent on HR checking my references. Checking. My. References. I know the agency policy is that the supervisor can't talk to people calling for references -- and that HR can only give "name, rank, serial number." But - I'm scared.</span><br /><span style="color:#993300;"></span><br /><span style="color:#333399;">So I guess I kinda have a job. A job offer. Have to give them the reference info... The salary isn't the sky high nursing home supervisor salary -- but it's pretty much exactly the same as what I earned before. And it's closer. And I feel it's a nice, laid back environment -- that will be family friendly. So that's good. It's right by the #7 subway train - so easy to get to from the city (to stay & J's & when we move....) so that's good, too.</span><br /><span style="color:#333399;"></span><br /><span style="color:#006600;">I should feel happy, but all I feel are butterflies.</span>MyThreeBlogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07817857109007712976noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25916124.post-68523940686318840282008-09-24T11:09:00.001-04:002008-09-24T11:09:40.832-04:00The Job<div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'><p><object height='350' width='425'><param value='http://youtube.com/v/3XGJq8wrw5I' name='movie'/><embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/3XGJq8wrw5I'/></object></p></div>MyThreeBlogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07817857109007712976noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25916124.post-81427963993556951742008-09-16T23:13:00.005-04:002008-09-17T08:47:52.896-04:00Sigh<span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"><span style="font-family:georgia;">I've been unemployed for a bit more than a month. I've been on three job interviews (two for the same job) so I've really been doing ok. Especially given this economy.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">But damn - it's so disheartening.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);">I went on an interview today & I KNEW they really liked me. I liked them. I sent a "Thank You" email a bit ago and got this response: </span></span></span></span><span style="color: rgb(128, 64, 0);font-family:Gill Sans MT;font-size:100%;" ><div style="font-style: italic;">"it will be a while this process, but you are terrific. We are hoping to diversify our staff so not sure how it will play out but we will definitely keep you in mind. I'll let you know We are trying someone out who interviewed weeks ago and I'll let you know how it works out after about 2 weeks, In the mean time, stay wonderful and we'll let you know what happens.</div> <div><span style="font-style: italic;">Your energy and your heart are just beautiful. "<span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"> </span></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);">So Ok. That's actually not a horrible rejection. But it is nonetheless -- especially since I felt like they were ready to offer me the job right then and there. I have to work on not getting SO excited. J says I'm negative, but I think it's easier to be that way -- that way I don't get disappointed....<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">And the 2nd interview? (Went last Thursday.) Haven't heard back from them yet, and as far as I know they haven't even contacted my references. I wouldn't be that anxious -- except I really feel like I messed up the interview. When she asked for references instead of just saying "sure" I said "oh, well, my supervisor can't give references... company policy... it has to go through HR -- but I have co-workers who can give..." She looked at me -- with a new look. "Oh" she said "I'd really like to talk to a supervisor. You mean she won't talk to me on the phone?"<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">And to make matters worse, when I sent her my list of references I just gave her the phone number to the main office: HR. Didn't even give her my supervisor's name.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);">I just panicked.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">J has coached me since: "Don't give more info than they ask for.... you have references -- just give them." He's right.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">So, I have this feeling of dread about this job. I won't get it.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">And yes, I've only been unemployed for a month - and have been on two interviews... but....<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);">This whole thing just sucks.<br /><br />Ok. Done feeling sorry for myself.<br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span> </div></span><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"><span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"></span><br /></span></span></span>MyThreeBlogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07817857109007712976noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25916124.post-62296440053782486592008-09-14T21:06:00.002-04:002008-09-14T22:20:23.278-04:00Because I like to make things MORE complicated...<span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"><span style="font-family: courier new;">I went on a job interview Sept 8<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">th</span>. It went well. They called me back & I went for a 2<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">nd</span> interview -- just this past Thursday. I can assume that went well too, since they asked for my references.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">Great, right?<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">C'mon</span> guys, this is me -- you know things can't just be simple! You know I can't just NOT think and NOT over think and not THINK some more.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">The position I went in to interview for originally was for a social worker position. The position I interviewed for at the second interview was a social work <span style="font-style: italic;">supervisor </span>position. I knew the supervisor position was available, but specifically did NOT apply for it. I didn't (don't?) want it. I have enough going on in my life, I have to have a flexible schedule -- I can't do this now.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102);">So, when the Director of Social Work started to tell me about the job I said "This is the Social Worker position?" And she replied "no - it's the supervisor. The other one is already filled."<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 102, 51);">(Cue internal panic.)<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">But, as she was telling me about the job I actually started to get excited. I started to think: "Hey, I could do this. I could enjoy this." PLUS - the salary would probably be a good 10-20 thousand more than I made before. Think about that. Ponder it. Let it stew. (Disclaimer: Before you think that this will be a huge salary -- remember: I. Am. A. Social Worker. There's no such thing.)<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);">Then she says "Well, there might be one or two late days.... if there is an emergency or some thing..." And I panic again. I can't do that.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);">She asks for my references. I tell her my supervisor is not allowed to give a reference -- only HR -- but that I have co-workers and others who will give references. She looked at me, I felt, somewhat askance.. but what could I do?<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">I now find myself in the strange, and yet not so unusual for me, position of worrying that I will get the job AND worrying that I won't get the job.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">It's hard being me, no?<br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br /><br /></span></span></span></span>MyThreeBlogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07817857109007712976noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25916124.post-32110744503482848672008-09-08T22:21:00.002-04:002008-09-08T22:44:59.397-04:00So Now....<span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">I'm a stay at home mom.<br /><br />This is a new thing. I mean, I've been at home before, for vacations, when I was at school and off for the summer.... but there's always been a sitter in the background -- one that we could NOT let go even though I was off... because you KNOW how hard it is to find a good sitter....<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">But now it's solo <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">mio</span>.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);">And the place is a mess.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">It's actually more than just a mess, it's dirty. And I know what it is: I feel like I have all the time in the world to do it. If I don't feel like cleaning today... no worries -- I'll have time tomorrow in between sending out resumes and studying for the licensing exam. (Yes, I'm finally doing that.)<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);">When I worked I didn't do too much around the house - only the bare minimum. "I'm too tired" I'd tell myself. Or "I should use this time to spend quality time with the boys, not cooking in the kitchen." BUT - now I'm home all the time and I'm not cleaning and I'm sure as shit not cooking. So I've totally blown that excuse! I have the time now! Too much of it! And I'm STILL not doing it!!<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 0);">Also, because nobody is coming into the house... no sitters... there's really nobody to clean up for. So this is it. This is me. The real dusty, dirty, toys all over the place, chicken nuggets, fish sticks me.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);">Nice that I'm able to use this time for some useful soul searching and personal exploration.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">And, please allow me to discuss the Playground. Now, I've taken my kids to the playground before, of course I have. But honestly, I guess... I haven't been there alone with the two of them when they've been this old. We've gone with friends. Play dates. Whatever.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">So. Friday after school the kids asked if they could stop at the playground right near the school. Most of their friends were there. I said sure. We go up & the first thing I notice is... all these kids running around but there seemed to be no supervision. Parents sitting, talking and kids running! Wild! Wild I tell you!! (Deep breath.)<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">So. I park myself right near where my kids are hitting tennis balls against a wall with a bunch of their friends. One of the boys runs down to the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">ice cream</span> truck and comes up with five boxes of candy <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">cigarettes</span>. All the boys <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"></span> circle the one with the cigarettes. He hands them out like a dealer. Then, a la The Sharks and The Jets there are these gangs of boys with little white cigarettes hanging out of their mouths.<br /><br />So. What did I do? Did I look calmly over at them and think to myself: "I ate those when I was a kid."? Pah! You know I didn't.<br /><br />"BOYS!! BOYS!! I do NOT want you standing there with those... those THINGS hanging out of your mouths!!'<br /><br />(Blank stares.)<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">"NO! REALLY! BOYS! If you must have them, then chew them! I don't want to see those things hanging out of your mouths!!!"<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);">(I'm SO cool!)<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">I call my friend. "Am I a freak?" She confirms that yes, I am. But I say: "How can I sit here and look at them with these fake cigarettes hanging out of their mouths! And WHERE are all the other parents?!?"<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);">They are wisely NOT looking.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">The kids co-opt scooters and are now literally all over the playground. So, I (kind of) give up and sit on a bench. <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 0);"><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);">We leave. I mention the cigarettes to them as we're walking back & Max stops and looks at me: "Mom. I would never smoke. This is just candy. I know smoking is bad, and stupid... we were just having fun. And besides, you told me that you ate those when you were a kid!"<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">This parenting thing. Unfortunately there is a huge learning curve.</span><br /></span></span><br /><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span>MyThreeBlogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07817857109007712976noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25916124.post-28368835408029690262008-09-07T15:21:00.000-04:002008-09-07T15:22:10.945-04:00<div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpfc6dNxKbGrlahyc1uVg9ECKcX7LHNjY-5nuQ0l_ieVqYheGSs_AwqyQkJv1yGD-Zsfe4AU_dpf7CA1R02tcagFPPGdrD2fHwHXtlUJQI4WOGrI7H0XwAe032SzVFrZInynQY/s1600-h/0907081204.jpg"><img alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpfc6dNxKbGrlahyc1uVg9ECKcX7LHNjY-5nuQ0l_ieVqYheGSs_AwqyQkJv1yGD-Zsfe4AU_dpf7CA1R02tcagFPPGdrD2fHwHXtlUJQI4WOGrI7H0XwAe032SzVFrZInynQY/s400/0907081204.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div><div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'><a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'><img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /></a></div>MyThreeBlogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07817857109007712976noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25916124.post-42049296880366414562008-09-02T11:41:00.002-04:002008-09-02T11:53:48.234-04:00September begins...<span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"><span style="font-family: arial;">... with a migraine. What's that all about?<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);">Brought the kids in for their first day of school - they were nervous but not too bad. (Not sure if I should be admitting this, but....) we did next to nothing academic over the summer. I don't know, I feel like they have so much over the school year that the summer is just the summer... But I think it started them off a bit more anxious this year; so I might re-think it for next.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">Nathan has the same teacher Max had for the past two years. Not so sure how I feel about that, since I wasn't so crazy about her -- but Nathan was happy... so.... <br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">I waited over an hour to find out bus information, only to find out I didn't need any information. It was the same as last year -- that's why they didn't send me anything. Oh. I see. And you were going to tell me this when?<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);">Called X. Told him about my job. His contract ends the end of this month -- so if neither of us find anything we will both be out of work. That's comforting. Relaxing. Calming. Soothing, even. (You can't see all the hairs on my body standing on end!)<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">I told him that this Sunday is the first day of... say it with me now... Hebrew School. Yes campers - we're back to that time of year again. And of course, for their first day (they both go this year) X has them. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Dontcha</span> know that's the way things always work out. I'm so sick to death of this whole thing. So, I said: "It's their first day." and ever reasonable and willing to talk about things he said: "<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">They're</span> not going." (Should I just <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">re post</span> my post from last year?) I said "It's the first day - they need to go... it's when books are handed out, kids meet each other..."<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">And he goes (and get this - it's good) "well, I like to take them on day trips over the weekend. I love my time with them." I asked him (trying not to sound too incredulous) if he really takes them on THAT many "day trips"? (Day trips?!?!?) He conceded that he didn't , but "what would the kids rather do? Sit in a Hebrew School classroom or play with their Dad?" You of course know that I did not even dignify that with an answer! Of COURSE my children would rather sit, read, learn Torah, Hebrew, sing songs, do art projects... than go outside and play!! Who wouldn't?!? (Banging head on wall.)<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);">So, the end up was - as usual - I'm not going to fight him (too much) re: Hebrew School... I'll just talk to the kids' teachers & in the end they will have to say to him "Dad - I can't miss that much - I have to learn for my Bar <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Mitzvah</span>..." which will hopefully happen. Or else they'll have to make up the work elsewhere. BUT - I told him they have to go this Sunday. I mean, come on.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">He's all about wanting to spend time with them -- he was away for a week & doesn't contact them. Doesn't call them last night before their first day, or this morning?!? I mean, it's great to want to play with them every other weekend... but... talking to them about their first day of school nerves? That's the real stuff.<br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Ok</span>. Enough. Off to get another Advil...<br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span>MyThreeBlogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07817857109007712976noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25916124.post-925058410866709542008-08-30T16:44:00.002-04:002008-08-30T16:47:07.337-04:00Just another dayScene: My parents' house. I'm downstairs on computer, kids upstairs watching tv.<br /><br />Max: (comes into computer room) Mom, you know too much computer is bad for you.<br /><br />Me: You know too much tv is bad for you.<br /><br />Max: Touche.<br /><br />=-=-==-=-=-=-=-=<br /><br />Touche!!! My son said touche, in an appropriate and funny context! It's so cool! I love how they develop these senses of humor..... and I can laugh at jokes my kids make!<br /><br />So. Cool!<br /><br />touche! Hee, hee!MyThreeBlogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07817857109007712976noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25916124.post-16640702234106272252008-08-27T12:15:00.002-04:002008-08-27T12:44:59.988-04:00Butterflies.<span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"><span style="font-family: courier new;">I wake up every morning with butterflies. Anxiety. Nerves. Sometimes anxiety is good: It gets you motivated and moving. And some times... it's not. You sit. Stare. Your kids call you. You say: "Just a minute." and you sit & stare. They start counting to sixty... "59... 60! A minute's up! Come on!" (Who taught them to be so literal?)<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);">I'm doing stuff. I mean, I'm not entirely immobile -- catatonia has not entirely set in -- but given my druthers? Sitting. Staring. Curled up in little ball under covers in my bed.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);">I've sent out three resumes and have had two phone calls back. One is for a position in Far <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Rockaway</span>... and while I'm sure it's a great job -- the commute is about two hours. I've been playing phone tag with the woman... but honestly I'm not even sure I want to go out there just for an interview! I have a job interview on Friday. (I know, you're saying stuff is happening -- why is she so anxious?)And, this place actually offered me a position about three years ago. A position for a lot of money (relative to social <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">workdom</span>) but I really loved my job... so... didn't take it.<br /><br />I emailed the supervisor when I saw the position was available & they called me back. So, I suppose they're not too upset I turned them down before.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">So why am I so anxious? I don't know. I really don't.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);">I went suit shopping today. With Nathan. (Max is with J @ the US Open -- J had an extra ticket!) He sat outside the dressing room playing with my flip flops & his toy dragon head (don't ask) & complained constantly.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);">But you know -- I've felt like I've gained so much weight & I'm still a 6 petite skirt at Ann Taylor. I am, certainly, the heaviest I've been since pregnant. And yes, I used to be a size 2 or 4... But. It was good to put things in a bit of perspective & kind of be forced to see that I'm not as big as I think I am.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">Now back to the space staring.</span><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span>MyThreeBlogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07817857109007712976noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25916124.post-48681747383210175002008-08-26T07:17:00.004-04:002008-08-26T07:51:32.557-04:00Where I'm at.<span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"><span style="font-family: arial;">That's a good question. Not too sure. I know I'm at a better place than I was three weeks ago.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">The vacation was -- at risk of exaggeration -- one of my best vacations ever. Our Brady Bunch situation worked out perfectly. All six of us in the three bedroom apartment... and we all worked. I'm sure it's made easier by the fact that J's girls are so much older than my boys -- so there's no direct competition. But still. They disciplined my kids when and where it was needed & not once did I hear my boys say: "You're not the boss of me!" But accept it & move on. Comfortable that it came from a good place. AND J's daughter even once referred to my kids as her "Step-brothers." (!!!!!!!!)<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);">J came with me back into NYC -- to my office - to clean off my desk. I have to say, I was a mess. It was not a good day. BUT - I got to see some of my co-workers, and get more affirmation that they felt the punishment far, far out weighed the crime... so that helped a bit with the processing.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">We had people over almost every night, went kayaking, biking, I did lots of reading, am the tannest I think I've ever been... and ate well. <br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">We had the ultimate luxury for an apartment dweller: washer/dryer and dishwasher. And, let me tell you - the amount of clothes, dishes, and food used by six people? NOT insignificant. So in that sense, those appliances were NOT luxury items!<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);">Between J and his girls we had three lap tops there -- and while it felt strange to me to have a computer on vacation (I've historically left all that behind when I've been away...) it was comforting to have -- to apply for unemployment, to start the job search, etc.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);">I have begun the job search -- although I have to get a new "interview outfit". My old one (you know, black skirt, white shirt, black jacket....) probably does not fit anymore & honestly, I've worn it so much I'm just kinda sick of it. (Like I never ever ever even want to look at it again. Even thinking about it gives me the willies!)<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">I'm a bit panicked about health insurance. I know I have cobra -- but that will be about $800 a month. (EIGHT HUNDRED A MONTH!!) I talked to my mom & when she asked if I needed help with anything I mentioned that. I might be able to play the Cobra waiting game (where you're covered even if you don't pay for it -- then pay retroactively if you need it) but it's comforting to know it's there if I need it. I'm behind the eight ball financially -- since X has been contributing less due to his changing job situation. <br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">I haven't told X yet. He's in a bad place. When I last talked to him his affect was flat. He's overwhelmed. He's worried about his own job, feels like he spent too much on his wedding.... etc, etc (You know, X stuff...). But I know the signs. It's amazing how when I hear him talk like that *I* get nervous. I tell myself, I'm not married to him anymore... but when he gets into these moods it's when he gets mean.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">X and his wife came over for the day --to Long Beach -- bringing the kids back from a weekend with them. I like his wife. I feel for her. I asked her: "You grew up religious, did you not want to have a religious wedding? " She talked about not wanting to do the pre-cana... (sorry, not sure how that's spelled!) & I could hear X's voice. The same with how she kept saying "Well, you know, I'm too old for a big wedding, I didn't really want one...". You know that expression: Methinks thou dost protest too much? Yep. I so wanted to say to her: "It's ok. You can be a good, a caring person -- you can be nice & still have your needs! You can advocate for yourself and for what you want/deserve too!" (Who says therapy does not bring results?!?) But I can't. I will offer myself, though, if I notice her seeming unhappy. Sisterhood.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);">So, I'm waiting a while to tell him -- probably once school starts. He has had four interviews for a great job (please, keep your fingers crossed!) and if he gets that things will be much easier for all of us. (Financially and mentally.)<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">So, I guess that's it for now. I'm going out to my parents with my kids from Thursday through the weekend - then school starts. Another year.<br /><br />And I leave you with an updated Plankton slide show. The fun never ends.<br /><br /><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/bin/slideshow.swf" width="288" height="192" flashvars="host=picasaweb.google.com&captions=1&RGB=0x000000&feed=http%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Fdata%2Ffeed%2Fapi%2Fuser%2Falevinemurray%2Falbumid%2F5237910115442478593%3Fkind%3Dphoto%26alt%3Drss" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"></embed><br /><br /><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span>MyThreeBlogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07817857109007712976noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25916124.post-88905515828808952372008-08-25T12:31:00.002-04:002008-08-25T12:35:03.795-04:00The Travels of Plankton<embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/bin/slideshow.swf" width="288" height="192" flashvars="host=picasaweb.google.com&RGB=0x000000&feed=http%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Fdata%2Ffeed%2Fapi%2Fuser%2Falevinemurray%2Falbumid%2F5237910115442478593%3Fkind%3Dphoto%26alt%3Drss%26authkey%3DhyykF_94DJE" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"></embed><br /><br />Or should I say the Travails! My sister got me a Plankton doll about a week ago -- since I always say he's my favorite Sponge Bob character. Since then I've taken him with me everywhere.... And documented it.<br /><br />And had way, way too much fun!MyThreeBlogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07817857109007712976noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25916124.post-52682107864054352392008-08-08T12:59:00.002-04:002008-08-08T13:15:06.321-04:00Left unsupervised...<span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Last night I had a dream about visiting this woman who lived down the block from my parents. She was a senior citizen. She was somebody who meant a lot to me. I was telling people they should visit her. Meet her.<br /><br />I woke up, suddenly remembered the dream & started <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">hyperventilating</span>.<br /><br />Good morning, world!<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">I went to my shrink today & she gave me some really good perspective. We talked about the woman I took the video of, how I felt about her.. the whole process that led up to my posting her video. I told shrink how it was almost like I was in another world -- until somebody kind of woke me up & said "Hey - you're not supposed to do that!" I just didn't see it.<br /><br />I told her how that last visit had meant so much to me. How I had told my supervisor how I wanted to visit this client on my own. How I had told J that I want us to visit her. How I had these kind of day dreams about visiting her with my kids... introducing them to her.. And Shrink said: "She became family. Your supervisor should have caught this transference. It's really very common for social workers in their first five years of working. When you said you wanted to visit her your supervisor should have focused you back to that. WHY do you want to visit her? You lost perspective. Got carried away with your caring. You took her video, posted it - like she was a member of your family - you thought of her like that & lost the client/sw perspective"<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);">Oh.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);">My therapist is a social worker. She understands what I did was wrong... but she can see it from the "clinical" perspective. She said to me "Your supervisors did not. They saw it from the "administrative" viewpoint." She understood why I was fired, but thought the punishment was much more extreme than it needed to be. "They were just looking out for the agency." She said.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">And I talked about how I was so involved with this case... I was the only one. The only one who cared for her, paid her bills, followed her medical care, was trying so desperately to get her to be able to live at home... And really -- what I can see NOW is that yes -- I needed MUCH more supervision with this. It was a lot. I'm not that seasoned. I needed somebody to pull me back & give me more perspective.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">So it was good. Today. I really want to get away from blaming myself for this. THREE people -who are unrelated, do not know each other, talk to each other, etc, etc - said to me: "Stop beating yourself up!" When the third person said it I stopped. "Oh. You're the third person to say that to me.... <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Hmmm</span>...." Don't need to tell ME something four times! Oh no! Three is quite enough, thank you!<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">So, this morning I grieved for the clients I won't get to see any more. The ones I didn't get to say good-bye to, the ones who will wonder what happened to me, worry about me, and... dare I say it... miss me.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);">I am going to be aware of all this from now on. My boundaries. Transference. And hopefully just grow from it. I'll allow myself a bit more time to process, to feel the loss, to regroup... but then I'll (hopefully be able to) move on.<br /><br />Stuff just always happens, doesn't it?<br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span>MyThreeBlogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07817857109007712976noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25916124.post-51118104686349603822008-08-07T09:17:00.002-04:002008-08-07T11:01:58.081-04:00My Surreal Life<span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"><span style="font-family: times new roman;">When my alarm went off this morning.. I couldn't open my eye. Not that "I'm so tired, I can't open my eyes" feeling -- but physically. I could not open them. They were swollen.<br /><br />Then I remembered.<br /><br />Was it a dream?<br /><br />A nightmare.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">I was fired.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">Yep<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);">It still seems so unreal to me... I came into work yesterday, got busily to it since I'm going to be away on vacation from Friday the 8<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">th</span> until Monday the 25<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">th</span>. My supervisor calls: "New situation. People upset. Agency upset. We have to meet.& talk about this video. "But, but" I said "I thought you said you understood? That mistakes happen. That it was good that I rectified it..." And she was all "yes, but I was distracted when I was talking to you -- and I told my boss... and now it's gone all the way up the food chain.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">Oh.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">And then I knew. I told the woman I share an office with & she says: "You won't be fired. You made a mistake, you owned up to it - you might get a suspension." I talked to an old co-worker -- "You won't get fired... maybe just a suspension..." But. I knew.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);">So, fast forward to 3:30 yesterday. Meeting with my supervisor, division head and Director of HR. I told them: "Yes, I made a mistake,but... explained how I had been so involved with the client, so happy to see she was doing well, wanted to save the moment, naively thought that other people would see/appreciate it the way I did. That they would see it/take it in the same sense as I did. That I felt that you could not see the client's face, and I used no identifying information. (As I can tell from the comment on one of my earlier posts... that's not the case.) and once I 'snapped out of it' took the video right down. There was absolutely positively no malicious intent.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);">But - in the end - what it came down to was the Agency. Protecting itself. I took an agency client, took her photo, and put it on the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Internet</span>. No matter who - if anybody - saw it or not. That's a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">liability</span>. Period. End of story.<br /><br />I said "But I always thought, was always taught, that if a person makes a mistake - that if there was no malicious intent.. that it was forgiven. A mistake." Nope. I said "What about all the good I've done? I love this job. I love this Agency." Nope. I said "You know, this agency has no soul. What about the people? I thought we are a social work agency?" Nope.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">They gave me a letter. They took my ID. They took my keys. They told me my health insurance will last until the end of the month. (<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Which</span> is when I lost it - I cover the kids X is on Cobra....) and I'll get paid for my vacation days.<br /><br />My supervisor walked me back to my desk - to clean it out. But when I got there I realized I have too much stuff. I said I'll have to come back another day. I thought I would go back today.. but you know.. I can't. I'll go back. With J. Next week.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">And J. J.... I know some of you remember other times I've lost a job.. or been job hunting.... and how X was. Yelling. Berating. Even after we split. Even though he's been fired from more jobs than I can count. But J. Calm. Supportive. Came over last night. Took one of my bills to pay. (<span style="font-style: italic;">Took one of my bills to pay!) </span>"We will get through this. Together. You will be fine." I've never had that. I've never had the luxury of really being able to feel sad & voice it. To feel... supported.. taken care of... I mean - <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">ok</span> - I have my parents who are always there & I've always felt their support... But this. Being in this team. The way it's supposed to be... <br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);">So I had a pretty bad night last night. Cried a lot. Walked around like a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">zombie</span> a lot. Today I'm here by myself. Kids at camp. They are over at X's tonight & tomorrow X gets married & we leave for Long Beach. I'm feeling pretty down... and I know that's normal. It's funny 'cause it used to be my regular state of being - with X. And I realized I haven't felt this way in a really long time. (Can't say I've missed it!)<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">I'll get through this.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);">And my kids. <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">You</span> know, my kids are my saviors. They make me smile. They're doing so well.. they make me feel so good. Today is their last day of camp & it has been such a summer of growth for them. You know, Nathan began the summer not wanting to go into the pool at all -- now it's his favorite activity. AND -- he wants to take swimming lessons over the school year! And Max doesn't! It's the First Time Nathan wants to do something that Max said No to. The first time. He always follows his big brother...<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Ahhh</span>... so - this coming year (because, well, I always seem to count the years from the start of the school year...) will be good. Different. But good.</span><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span>MyThreeBlogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07817857109007712976noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25916124.post-37561349538372170522008-08-05T13:14:00.002-04:002008-08-05T13:17:01.235-04:00OkI guess I'm just to open and honest in general. When I post about mistakes I made I guess I don't expect to be told that yes, I did. I know that. I've gone through it. I ruined my weekend because of it.<br /><br />But I understand - if I put my life out in public I will get opinions.. and they are that -- opinions. It's up to me how I react to them.<br /><br />I have to think if I feel up to putting my real life mistakes out there -- especially ones I already feel so crappy about.<br /><br />Post is down.<br /><br />Gotta think.MyThreeBlogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07817857109007712976noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25916124.post-79573758046558711272008-08-05T09:52:00.004-04:002008-08-05T14:12:13.627-04:00I made a mistake<span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);">OK - I'm putting this back. With the disclaimer -- with the feeling -- that I have to explain myself a bit more. Only about 10-15 people saw the video, and most of those were people I know or know the client. I understand that my intent in showing that video is/was not clear to some people... and I just have to say that that is the kind of person I am. I show videos of my kids. I share photos. Things that are important and meaningful to me -- I like to share.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);">Yes, I made a mistake - it happens. I learned.</span><br />-=-=-=-=<br /><br />Not sure if any of you saw... but last week I had posted a fifteen second video of one of my clients -- taken with my phone while visiting her in the nursing home. I felt that you couldn't see her face - so that it was safe to post it. I had uploaded it to YouTube, emailed it to a few people who knew her - and posted on facebook.<br /><br />I figured - about 10 people (more or less) look at this blog every day & it's only my friends on Facebook. So it's closed.<br /><br />Yeah.<br /><br />Right.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">Friday morning I get into work & there's a voice mail message from one of my co-workers who I had emailed the video to. "It's a HIPPA violation. It's a confidentiality violation. You could be fired!" I took it down.<br /><br />I called her up. She was all: Client can't give consent to have picture taken because doesn't have capacity, it's exploitative, it looked like you were doing this art project on YouTube... don't you know people can take the video, change it - email it... client looked disheveled. Why would you do this?<br /><br />And I was in shock.<br /><br />It so was not my intention.<br /><br />I went to the NH & saw this client there.... and she looked so good... was doing so well -- and I wanted to remember her. I wanted to share her. I took these videos that showed her personality - and wanted to share it here because it was important to me. Meaningful. The same reason why I wanted to email it to these people.. who I thought felt the same way about her. I thought they'd be so appreciative... to have the video... to see her - to have the memory of how she is/was.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);">I felt awful. I felt awful that collegues would think this of me -- that it was construed this way. And I felt awful that I really did breach social work ethics. And I was worried. What should I do? Tell my supervisor? What if somebody else had seen it? Did something with it? I went through this blog and deleted every post having to do with clients/work... Because you know, I work in a very very close community. People all know each other & each other's business. They have grown up here, known each other & their families all their lives. If I mention anything & somebody from down here reads it -- chances are they will be able to figure out who it is I'm blogging about.<br /><br />Could I really be fired?<br /><br />I was a wreck.<br /><br />I texted a woman I used to work with. We had shared an office & became very good friends and even though she's younger than me, has been a social worker a good deal longer. I told her what happened & the first thing she said was "Anybody who knows you knows you have a good heart and would never do anything intentional to hurt a client." Which made me feel good. And made me wonder why these other collegues who had seen it had automatically thought the worst. (They explained it as "feeling protective of the client.....")<br /><br />I talked to her & she said that everybody breaks ethics every once in a while. It's a learning experience. I did this with my heart, not my head... And that she really doubted I'd be fired. She reminded me that , the co-worker I had originally spoken to had a bit of a history of hystrionics...<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">So yesterday I called my supervisor & told her: "I made a mistake and I fixed it." And explained what happened. And you know... I pretty much worried all weekend about this (because I never over think or over worry about stuff) and she said: "Ok. You made a mistake. Thanks for telling me. You thought with your people hat - no social worker hat. It happens."<br /><br />Omigod.<br /><br />After all that worrying.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">But I do have to think about how I'm going to write about work stuff... and it made me think about how with this blogging, facebook, you tube, twitter.. how so much of your life is out there... and it almost becomes second nature. Kind of freaked me out a bit. I like the fact that not a lot of people read this. It's FINE with me. But I like the community of it - I like the people I have met & am meeting...<br /><br />But I have to think about all of this.<br /></span></span></span></span></span></span>MyThreeBlogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07817857109007712976noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25916124.post-56535893400268028312008-08-04T07:41:00.003-04:002008-08-04T07:47:09.338-04:00So<span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"><span style="font-family:courier new;">If your favorite baggy linen pants fray in the crotch you're allowed to patch them, right?<br /><br />But what if those SAME pants become a wee bit threadbare on the left side (where you carry a bag & it probably rubs against it?) And say there's a HOLE on the left hip side? And say your SKIN shows through that hole...<br /><br />Can you patch them again? (From the inside. THe tailor does it. Same color... [obviously])<br /><br />Or do you call it a day?<br /><br />I love those pants.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">ETA - And WHAT IF these pants are one of the lucky few that STILL fit due to your explosive weight gain? (Just getting dressed. NOTHING fits! Augh!)</span><br /><br /></span></span>MyThreeBlogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07817857109007712976noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25916124.post-61803957401146448672008-07-29T06:14:00.002-04:002008-07-29T06:36:08.054-04:00<span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"><span style="font-family: times new roman;">A while back I wrote about how I had been feeling cranky - <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">PMS'y</span> nearly all the time. Nearly three weeks out of each month. Plus having these awful monthly migraines. Plus numerous other wonderful things happening to this growing (oh yes, growing - but that's another post!) body. I thought that maybe it was the dreaded <a href="http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/perimenopause/DS00554"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">perimenapause</span></a>. It can start as early as your late thirties (oh, those lucky, lucky women!) I had gone to my doctor and she said that Prozac was the drug of choice for PMS. I was a bit unsure, but she put me on 10 mg. It made no <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">discernible</span> change, so I took myself off.<br /><br />Flash forward to June of this year. I'm still feeling it. And J. He's asking me: "Why do you always seem so angry at me?" And it's true. It's like I look for things to yell at him for! "What! You didn't replace the cotton balls! You don't love me!" And I'm telling you, this doesn't just happen the day or two before I get my period -- it will happen two - three weeks before. And J? Hates confrontation. Hates anger. Hates yelling. While I will yell, get it out & move on... it impacts him more. So it was really having an impact (use that word much?) on our "quality of life." He mentions how he's worried that we fight so much. (<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Personally</span>? I don't see what we do as "fight" more like "bicker" - and that doesn't concern me. But I guess it's subjective.)<br /><br />I go to my GP again & tell her. This is horrible. I really feel like PMS so much of the month. Can't concentrate, have PMS brain, emotional, cranky (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">ok</span>, bitchy). She again mentions the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Prozac</span> & says that 10 mg was not enough. "Let's try 20 she says." I said that I was thinking of talking to my OB & changing my birth control - maybe the hormones I'm getting are changing my moods... She said: "Let's try both. Start with the 20 mg & call me in a few weeks. If need be we'll raise you to 40."<br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Then</span> I went to my OB/<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">GYN</span> & talked to her. She said "You're on hormonal birth control. You have an 'artificial period' you should not even be having PMS. You don't ovulate." Huh?!?! But... but... I feel it. I feel my body change. I feel my moods change. Really. Truly. It's concrete. I know my body. She looks baffled. She says: "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Ok</span>, let's try you on the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Seasonique</span> - you'll get your period once every three months. Lets see what happens."<br /><br />So. Let me tell you what happens.<br /><br />I feel great.<br /><br />I don't know what's in this <span style="font-style: italic;">Prozac</span>. This happy pill. But man. Last month? Just a touch of the PMS feeling, a week before. A bit of moodiness, but <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">deal- able</span>. Regular PMS. And perhaps I should give it another month before I start claiming The Great Cure... but damn. I've just been feeling so good.<br /><br />And that makes me feel weird.<br /><br />I mean. I know I wasn't "depressed" before. I'm a social worker. I know the symptoms. So it freaks me out, a bit, that I feel so good now.<br /><br />And I know it's not just the magic pill. I know it's because it makes me calmer = happier = J happier = my kids happier = me happier. So it all kind of goes in a big circle.<br /><br />And it feels good to feel good.<br /><br />And I'm the first person to suggest to a client that it's <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">ok</span> to go on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">meds</span> - that if it gives relief, improves your quality of life... why not?<br /><br />But why do I feel so guilty? So illicit? So artificial? Like this isn't a "real" happy.. it's from the pill... and that's not good.<br /><br />Ugh.<br /><br />You'd think I could just relax & enjoy finally being a bit calmer & not so tense, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">irritable</span> all the time... <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Butcha</span> know. The thinking. The over thinking. The over over thinking.<br /><br />I wonder if there's a pill that makes people Just Let Things Be.<br /></span></span>MyThreeBlogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07817857109007712976noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25916124.post-84553394423427809612008-07-21T23:25:00.002-04:002008-07-21T23:30:03.334-04:00Like, Omigod!I've been reading the post <a href="http://www.blogher.com/blogher-2008-reach">BlogHer</a> blog posts.... and... well.... I feel like I'm back in high school! I'm having all these flashbacks, and am finding that many of these posts actually make me feel very uncomfortable. The gossip. The inuendo. <br /><br />What is it about women? Do we all always have to hyper-analyze everything? <br /><br />I hope to read something good about it -- but thus far it seems that only the conference about Just Posts was the one thing everybody can agree on.<br /><br />Just had to get that off my chest. It's all too weird.MyThreeBlogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07817857109007712976noreply@blogger.com1