Tuesday, June 18, 2013

I gave birth today

Deadline driven.  It would describe my personality.  Well, at least one of my personalities.

I work best when I can work with an end date in sight.  You know, it has to happen on July 1.  Not, if it doesn't happen on July 1 - you can extended it.  I need a "you have no choice".  Not, "oh, well, if you miss the test on Tuesday, there is a make-up test on Thursday.  Cause?  Guess what, I will take the Thursday test.

Waiting to the last minute?  Not me.  I'm a gatherer of sorts.  Gather what you need.  Take what you can - then just before the deadline - get your "ducks in a row"  (your stuff together).  Then, turn it in.

Both my sons were born two days before their "due" date.  I had everything done.  Everything was ready.  Work was finished.  Okay now, I can go have a baby.

Today, I gave birth again.  And starting Thursday, I'm on maternity leave.  Only this time my baby isn't a human.  It's a company.  Funding came through.  Into the bank account through.  As in, I've NEVER seen so many commas when it comes to cash.

I needed to throw up.  When that feeling passed, my eyes wanted to water up.  Alas, I was at work - no tears there.

We set a huge goal.  We accomplished it in 9 months.  I leave two days from today.  AND today, I gave birth.  Right on schedule.  Right on track.  All in duex time.    This time, I got a text saying "you are a superstar.  Couldn't have done it without you."  Maybe I've finally learned something.


"Maternity" leave starts Thursday.

Sunday, June 16, 2013


The movie "Caddyshack" debuted in 1980.  I was eleven.  I didn't see the movie.  I do remember watching bits and pieces of it at summer camp on a VCR.

Hmmm, now that I think about it, I don't think I've seen the movie all the way through, from beginning to end.  I know many of the great lines and remember the "candy bar in the pool scene", but hmm, now I'm going to have to watch it.

My oldest son is a caddy now for the second summer at a local country club.  Only this is the oldest country club in Denver - you can't just join.  A member must extend an invitation - then there is a wait list.  I hear the wait list is over two years before you can become a member.  They have an incredible caddy program.  You must be 14.  They put you through a 3 Saturday training.  The kids earn $14 per "Loop" (18 holes) then a tip on top of that.  Tips range from $10 - $50 per loop.  The older men (p70+) usually are bad tippers, but it's understandable.  They remember when they were paid $4 per loop plus a dollar tip. 

We aren't members at the club - the caddy program is open to the public.  There is even a scholarship available for college.

The golfers treat the caddy's well - they buy them Gatorade.  There are "Caddy Meals" available for three dollars.  Not a bad gig for a first job.  It's tax free.  It's not a set schedule and they make pretty good money.  They learn how to connect and network.  Us parents also get good stories.

Duncan gets in the car on Friday so excited he can't even stand himself.  I'm on the phone.  I pause and ask "how was your loop?"  He replied, "It was GREAT - I have some stuff to tell you about it."  I finish my call then ask "so, do tell".  "Well, first, in my foursome, the younger guys were sons of the member - they had played  Lacrosse and coached at Notre Dame.  We got to talk sports and college playing stuff."

He goes on, "BUT, guess who was in the foursome in front of us???"  "I have NO idea."  Guess, just guess.  "Michael Jackson??".  "MOM!!!  No, it was Peyton Manning!!!"  "He's HUGE"  He goes on and on about "Mr. Manning" for a bit.  He didn't get to meet him, but he was definitely star struck for the day.

WELL, the next day, it turns out, one of his friends was caddying with the foursome in front of Duncan  - yes, the Peyton Manning foursome.

They teach the boys to be polite, interact, have conversation, but also stay in the "shadows".  Turns out Duncan's friend is walking with Peyton and they are talking about golf.   Then Gus says to "Mr. Manning", so "Do you play any other sports?"  Smile.  They said he laughed all afternoon.

Saturday, June 15, 2013

Here we go again

Today was packing/cleaning/organizing day.  It happens once a year.

Sometimes I think we should do it a bit at a time - but the ONE day method works well around here.  Works well, but is VERY tiring! VERY.

We leave on Thursday for Hawaii.  Actually, I leave Thursday.  Nolan to follow in 9 days, Duncan in 16 days.  Our annual house swap.  Yes, just like the movie "The Holiday".  We trade lives for a summer.  That is what the blog was originally about.  Stories from our adventure.

Not that the house is super dirty or super cluttered - we just box up some things - move clothes around.  Then wash the stuff that doesn't get washed on a regular basis.  Like:  The duvets on the beds, the shower curtains, the baseboards, the tops of the ceiling fans, and on and on and on......

At the end of "cleaning day" the first summer, the boys said "I'm not sure this is going to be worth it".  They had been in Hawaii less than 12 hours when I heard "It was SO worth it".

So today, we cleaned.  We organized.  We did lots and lots of laundry.  The last load is drying now.  The repairs have been done around the house.  The car still needs a tune up and an oil change.  We still have to "un clutter" the kitchen" But today, there was not ONE complaint.  Not one gripe.  We had music playing. We worked as a team and are almost there.  This time we all know, it will be SO worth it.


Tuesday, June 11, 2013

Wrong Numbers

This isn't my story.  I have to share though, because it's good story.

My mom calls on Monday and says "you have to hear this story.  It's a YOU story".  A friend of hers for YEARS, at least 30 - her daughter is one of "mine" so, well, we've all known each other for a very long time. 

The friend receives a text saying "You can have the Professional League Baseball tickets and the parking pass if you want them".  It was from a number she didn't recognize.  She texts back with the reply "You haven't reached the person you thought you were trying to reach, I just wanted to let you know. "  She sends the text.  The random phone number replies:  "thanks for letting me know". 

She then replies, "well, if he doesn't want them, well, I will take them."  Smile now.

See, now isn't that 90% of life???  Taking ONE more step.  What is the worst thing that could have happened?  Random ticket person wouldn't have responded.

Yes, they met at a Starbucks and Random Ticket person gave her the tickets.  My mom called from the game to tell me the story.  They were sitting on the 25th row behind the dugout. 

Take chances in life.  There is no such thing as a wrong number.

Friday, June 7, 2013

I don't remember loving you

A funny thing happened on the way home from New York.

This trip was booked last minute.  And guess what?  The flights both ways were sold out.  So, booking last minute, guess where I got to sit??  Yes, the middle seat.  Both there and back.  I can't even remember the last time I sat sin a middle seat?  At LEAST 15 years.  AT LEAST.  The nice thing about traveling with kids, is, well, you get your own row.  Guess what, I'm not sitting in the middle with my kids. I'm an aisle kind of girl.  I have long legs.  I do miss the view from the window.  There are moments I wish I was in a window seat (now that has happened before), but I'm usually quite content in the aisle seat.

The flight out was uneventful.  Couldn't even tell you what the people looked like whom were sitting with me in my row.  Take that back, the guy sitting next to me was Middle Eastern - young, and both of us kept falling asleep.  You know how when you doze "in and out" your body sometimes "jerks"?  That kept happening to both of us.  Once, he hit me. 

The flight home?  The adorable 23 year old girl (born in 1990) sitting by the window proceeded to tell me her life story (imagine that!).  Summary:  She was adopted, living in a very wealthy part of New York (my knowing where that was - I have friends from there), flying to spend a week with the woman whom gave birth to her.  This was her third trip (So, very glad it wasn't her first trip by herself - otherwise, I would be in Wyoming now, being the support she needed).  I digress.

The guy to my right?  Business guy.  Sales guy.  Lives in Denver.  (And I know where you are all going now, but hang in there...) We start talking.  "What do you do?" , I ask him.  He goes on and on and I reply "now does your company do all of that or do you outsource the "extra" services?  He replies " No, that's us".  I say, "Oh, blah blah blah services, as in X company?"   "How do you know X company"  "I've recruited for them for the last two years."  We continue our conversation and knew many common people (only I only know them via phone and e-mail).  I did ask if he was someone I might have met.  He wasn't.  I didn't have the heart to ask if he needed help recruiting people to his team. 

In fact, for the last two years, I've HATED recruiting for his company.  I don't like them.  We broke up. 

We have more conversations and it turns out he's a nice guy, been with the company 15 years.  I've never even heard his name.  He's pretty high up there too.  There offices are moving - we were talking NYC real estate.  Oh yeah, their headquarters are in NYC. 

I knew this once a upon a time.  Once upon a time, I would have remembered that, and even though I was there on someone else's dime, I would have gone to see them.

This time, I didn't even remember ever loving them.

Thursday, June 6, 2013


Shoes are fun.  There are the expensive shoes.  The Jimmy Choo's, Manolo Blahnik's of the world. Then the cheap shoes.  Payless.  Target shoes.  Everything in between.

Me personally, I like fun shoes.  Cute shoes.  Comfortable shoes.  Shoes that match my outfits.  Not my purse.  THAT is just too much for me.  Always has been.  I'm not that girl.  For years, I've always been a "seasonal" shoe kind of girl.  I've worn boots in the winter, sandals in the summer.  You don't wear white shoes before Memorial Day.  Every Labor Day, I TRY, to just throw those shoes away.  Get rid of the temptation to wear them later or even worse, earlier than Memorial Day.

Confessional:  I've been pretty strict on the whole white thing, but well, the other shoes - they tend to cross seasons.  As for example, I've been know to show up, with snow on the ground, in flip flops - during the day.  At night, those dreaded heels, with open toes - I wear those too.  Boots are for the day.  Or for other people at night.

I was in New York City yesterday and today.  My feet are swollen from all the walking.  My toes are perfectly pedicured - only every toe is a different color.  I had to buy a pair of flip flops at the bottom of the Empire State Building.   They were $9.  I thought that was a great deal.  They are actually comfortable.

As I walked around the city this morning.  Me in my sundress and flip flops.  Curly hair - slept on wet, no make up on.  Avatar sunglasses on.  I felt like a movie star.  The girl whom landed amongst all these "real" people".  Watching the people chase their dreams.

Could have I been that girl?  You know, the one whom walked past me in the designer suit.  With the $700 pair of shoes?  No.  Yes, I could have tried to be her.  I would failed miserably.  I was never that girl.  Thankfully, I never tried.  I can see why we would want to try.  Isn't that "the dream"  "I'm going to make it in New York City"  "If you can make it there, you can make it anywhere"

Not only would I have failed miserably.  The world would be short two incredible people.  My life would be short many incredible people.  Yes, I know, I would have met other incredible people.  No, I wouldn't have.  That wasn't me.  This is.

As I the career woman/hockey mom woke up this morning in New York City at 6 am, ready to take on the world.  The gypsy girl quietly whispered in her ear "Shhhhhh, soon enough.  It's only 4 am in Denver.  Go back to sleep.  You have plenty of time.  And your flip flops are by the door"

Tuesday, June 4, 2013

An IRONMAN would be easier than this

I thought I was exhausted last summer.  Every December, I think I'm exhausted again.  But, this time I know, truly, I'M EXHAUSTED.

My house is dirty.  So is my laundry.  Thank goodness, my kids can bathe themselves - or we all know, they would be dirty too. Scratch that, they are dirty.  No, not really.  They are not smelly, but their rooms are a mess.

My mom and my sister have been in town.  Nolan's continuation was on Monday.  Friday night was the "end of the year party" down the street.  Seven boys spent the night.  I went to bed early.  I woke up at 1:30 and asked if they wanted pizza.  I turned the oven on and poured myself a bottle of wine..... ;-)  Oh, I'm sorry, that was a glass of wine.  At 4am, it was bedtime.  I slept til 8.  They slept til 10.

I"M TIRED.  I'm also not complaining.  Well, yes, I am, but I'm thankful I can complain.  I do love the chaos.  The craziness.  This last year has helped put it all in perspective.

For continuation, this group of kids, actually planned ahead - TP'd the school - and slept on the field in their tents.  Quite honestly, it was a proud, sad, happy moment.  Wow.  What a great group of kids.  What a great group of dads whom volunteered to chaperone.

School is over.  I have to go to New York tomorrow for A DAY.  Seriously?  A four hour flight for a two hour meeting??? Who is this girl?

My mom is here.  My sister is with my cousin. I have an intern in the office.  Boys to dads.  Leaving in the morning for New York.  I'm TIRED.  OF ALL THIS.

Oh Gypsy Girl where are you?????  I didn't miss all this.  Or maybe, I did. For a moment.

It's all going to be worth it.  Right?  If you are unsure of what an IRONMAN is - look it up.  Because, that would make my life look like a walk in the park.  And, I wouldn't trade it for anything.