Worst.Vampire.Ever

Jane Jones: Worst.Vampire.Ever

Happy Mom: Adult.Seeking.Second.Childhood

Curse you Andy Cohen.

Curse you and the guilty pleasure of Watch What Happens Live and the train wrecks that are Bravo reality TV.

Without you Andy Cohen and the background entertainment on your drinking show I would not have seen a pink book with such an intriguing name. How could I not have been drawn to Worst.Vampire.Ever? How could that young teenage girl, perhaps even preteen child, stay away?

A quick google revealed the book synopsis:

For Jane Jones, being a vampire is nothing like you read about in books. In fact, it kind of sucks. She's not beautiful, she's not rich, and she doesn't "sparkle." She's just an average, slightly nerdy girl from an ordinary suburban family (who happens to be vampires.) Jane's from the wrong side of the tracks (not to mention stuck in the world's longest awkward phase), so she doesn't fit in with the cool vampire kids at school or with the humans kids. To top it all off, she's battling an overprotective mom, a clique of high school mean girls (the kind who really do have fangs), and the most embarrassing allergy in the history of the undead, she's blood intolerant. So no one's more surprised than Jane when for the first time in her life, things start to heat up (as much as they can for a walking corpse, anyway) with not one, but two boys. Eli's a geeky, but cute real-live boy in her history class, and Timothy is a beautiful, brooding bloodsucker, who might just hold the key to a possible "cure" for vampirism. Facing an eternity of high school pressure, fumbling first dates, or a mere lifetime together with Timothy, what's a 90-something year-old teen vampire to do?

Oh Andy, you know me so well. I believe you knew I would see that pink book. The book jacket further peaked my curiosity but I was unconvinced, yet. I need a little more convincing. I'll look into the author.

CAISSIE ST. ONGE is an Emmy-nominated comedy writer who's worked for The Late Show with David Letterman, The Rosie O'Donnell Show, and VH1's Best Week Ever, as well as a bunch of shows you probably haven't heard of (but that's okay). Caissie's written lots of other stuff, too, including commercials for soap, ice cream, and cell phones that starred some bigshot Hollywood celebrities, plus an infomercial for collectible coins that starred a prominent Pennsylvania numismatist. (But enough bragging.) Caissie lives in Connecticut with her husband and two sons, in a town that's a lot like the one described in these pages, but she's not a vampire . . . yet. This is Caissie's first novel.

Okay. You got me now.

Andy, I heeded your advice. The pink book came home with me this weekend. Curse you Andy.

Happy Mom: Stays.Up.Late.To.Read.Young.Adult.Books.Turns.Out.Book.Was.Just.What.The.Mommy.Needed.This.Hijacked.Blog.Will.Return.To.It's.Normal.Schedule.

Need a mindless funny take on high school. Andy Cohen had just the ticket for this young-old gal. Now I better read an adult book before Big Poppy realizes the zits on my face....

I Understand

Do you see these beautiful blue eyes?



I understand. I get it. Little Guy is easy to fall in love with.

I also understand that I may have played a role in our current situation. After all it was I that taught him:

ME: What do you give the girls?

LG: *** Wink, Wink - as in both eyes close for a quick wink*** A wink and smile

I may have also contributed by this:

ME: Where are your biceps?

LG: ***Rolls up the right arm sleeve and kisses the bicep, rolls up the left arm sleeve and kisses the bicep. ***

I do understand it is hard to resist these smiles.

However, I do not understand this change.

The game is suppose to go like this:

ME: Who loves you?

LG: MOMMY!

ME: Who else loves you?

LG: DADDY!

ME: Who else loves you?

LG: JETER!

Sometimes the game goes like this:

ME: Who loves you?

LG: DADDY!

ME: Who else loves you?

LG: MOMMY!

ME: Who else loves you?

LG: JETER!

Ok, not as much fun for me but it is acceptable.

However, there have been a couple times where it went like this:

ME: Who loves you?

LG: EMILY! (not her real name)

ME: ***Excuse me? When did this little hussy show up in the picture? The last time I knew, Emily was the school "friend" biter on the incident report. When did the little hussy trump me? This will never do. ***

I understand this little hussy friend becoming smitten by Little Guy.

I do not understand this little hussy friend out-ranking me.

I might need to have a talk with the little hussy friend's parents to ensure she watches herself.

Big Poppy

There is no doubt how much Big Poppy loves Little Guy nor that Little Guy thinks Big Poppy is the greatest.

The love between these two boys is indescribable. At the baseball game yesterday, the guest service attendant commented over and over again about the two of the them (and this lady takes her job very (VERY!) seriously, do not try to do anything without her permission).

Whether Little Guy wants to borrow Big Poppy's sunglasses, even though the sun was not shining (yet again)

or if he just needs someone to catch him humpty dumpty-ing into the pool

or making sure foul balls do not land on his head

Big Poppy is always going to be there.

In a few years, when you are unhappy with Big Poppy telling you no to car keys or weekend trips, don't forget how much you love him Little Guy and know, without a doubt, he thinks the world of you.

***NOTE: Did you hear a scream of "Noooooo. F----------." this morning? Not to worry, it was just me finishing up an original posting and then watching my computer shut down, without warning unless you count the pop-up that told me it would be happening in 15 minutes which was like 2 minutes before the shut down occurred. Or at least it seemed like 2 minutes and I thought I was finishing up instead of halfway through. Things seem to take me longer than I think they should.***

Work Ramblings

I work with numbers and when the words do not flow out of my mouth quite the way I intended (this happens more often than I care to admit), I like to say something like “I like numbers, not words”. This is not exactly true. I did not go into accounting to be a “bean counter”, “number cruncher” or whatever you like to think is true about accounting. I went into accounting because I got it. It made sense. I wanted to have an influence on the bottom the line without selling. By now, I thought I would have been done with working in public accounting and would be on the fast track to stardom in an industry company where the corporate culture promoted all the same values and ideals I have. Alas, I am in public accounting today (by my choice, most days) and I enjoy my current career path (well, here again, most days). Maybe someday the mood will strike and I will pick up the thought of industry stardom. Until that moment arrives, I’m here and doing whatever I can to make our firm profitable, respected and known.

In order to “sell” my firm I need to believe in the firm. We are a professional service and this means, to me, I have need to believe in our people. I admit, a few years back, I did not believe in a few of the people (we are small company and a few people have a huge impact) and I decided to look for a new job. I almost took one that likely would have led to the industry stardom but decided within a couple years and would want to be back in public accounting. I’m happy I made that decision. Within the next year the mood of my firm had changed and all the people were once again top-notch (it’s an excellent feeling knowing you are not the smartest person in the room). Our young accountants, who I sometimes refer to as kids – because I’m so old and they are so young, are second to none.

Because I have such high regards for everyone, I was recently surprised in a discussion.

“I don’t need to have a relationship with you. We just need to get the work done.” (NOTE: Not verbatim and there was also reference to not needing a relationship with a couple others at the firm - among other things.)

However, what I heard was more like this:

“I think you are crap and I tolerate working with you because I have to.”

I am not a person who needs to be best buddies with everyone. I am a person that needs to be more than tolerated with those she works with.

I develop relationships with clients because it improves working relationships. It seems like developing relationships with co-workers improves working relationships, gives a higher quality service to clients, and makes works more enjoyable. This hurts.

I came home that night and talked with Big Poppy. There were tears because I do not want to be “that” co-worker. The one people thinks does a good job but that’s about it. Even now, just thinking about it, there is a frog in my throat. What if I am now (or always have been) the less than top-notch one at the firm?

I am not questioning myself, per say. I’m questioning if I’m doing the best for my firm. I’m questioning if I’m the best person for my firm. Would it be a stronger place without me? Am I holding it back?

They say love hurts. I say work hurts…but as I think about it, I do love/care for everyone at my firm. It makes sense that this hurts. That it has shaken me. I do not get together with most of them outside of the office, but we are a small and you get to know people. I have been there for nine years. I cannot be somewhere for that long without forming bonds. My lesson, not everyone needs a relationship with those they work with.

My work ramblings are done – for today. And I feel a little better for laying it out and seeing what the real issue is for me now.

Growing Boy, Jumping Boy

Last month was Little Guy's birthday. It also means it was time to check in the doctor and see how he compares to other little boys in terms of growth. As expected, he is a tall little guy (I am starting to get looks from people that don't understand he isn't as old has his height makes him appear. You know the looks, why isn't he potty trained - more on that to come - or he should be speaking better by now.)

Vitals at Twenty-four Months

Height: 35 1/2" (90 percentile)
Weight: 28 lbs 7.5 oz (50-75 percentile)
Head: 49.8 cm (50-75 percentile)
Click here for vitals at eighteen months.

Two year pictures are on the way. From the sneak peak, I am very pleased. It helps to have such a handsome family.

*** Can I tell you how annoying it is to have program updates running in the background while I am trying to do this update. Things are running very slow and I need to leave in a few minutes. Sometimes, I think computers are meant to irritate me. ***

Along with being a growing boy, Little Guy is also a jumping boy. He finds anything and everything to use as his launching pad, including yoga blocks.

Prior to jumping, one must count to three.

After reaching three, bend the knees, put a smile on your face and prepare for blast off.

Now it is time to enjoy the flight.

A safe landing is desirable, however, tumbling to the ground also offers up loads of fun.

And if you are lucky Little Guy, I will soon be able to hide the shirt you are wearing so Big Poppy cannot put it on you ever again. When you look back to pictures and it looks like you wore the same shirt every day please know that was not the case, however Big Poppy put it on you once a week and let other shirts gather dust in your drawer (Big Poppy helps him get ready in the morning most of the time).

The Boys of Summer

Downside: Our hometown boys of summer have yet to live up to expectations this year.

Upside: Fans are still showing up for the home games.

Downside: The weather has been less than ideal for outdoor baseball due to cold and the rain.

Upside: We have had a few decent days with the sun and even some heat (I really like that).

Upside: We have been able to make it to a few games this year.

Downside: Big Poppy does not read my mind and take charge to ask those around us to take a quick family picture of the three of us (or grab the camera to take one of Little Guy and me - I improvise while Big Poppy is engrossed in the game).

Upside: We have plenty of family and friends with season tickets that allow us to enjoy home games without breaking the bank.

Upside: We recently sat the "Legends" club for a completely different view from where we normally sit.

Upside: As season ticket holders (by proxy) we were able to purchase additional tickets prior to them going on sale to the general public.

Downside: The way the hometown boys are playing I am wondering if Big Poppy and a few of his college teammates should walk-on to the team. Despite their years I cannot think they would hurt the team currently (or perhaps this is really an upside because of league minimum wage rules for the summer play).

Upside: Foul ball landed in Big Poppy's hand. Thank you Justin Morneau.

OK - despite the win-loss record, the boys of summer are treating our family pretty darn good. Not a bad way to enjoy a Sunday (Memorial Day weekend).

Biceps?

Big Poppy and I like to be active. No surprise to anyone that knows us.

Admitly, I lost a bit of myself this past year while I was trying to be the perfect Happy Mom. Do you know what I realized? This Mommy is a lot happier when she has sweated out the stress of the day. Those quick workouts that barely cause a blimp on the heart rate monitor and the attitude "at least I did something" do not help me on my quest to being the perfect Wife and Mommy to Big Poppy and Little Guy.

This gal needs a good old fashion, sweating like a pig while breathing so hard it might wake a sleeping child.

And some mornings, it does wake a sleeping child.

At that point, the treadmill is stopped and it is on to weights - which I despise unless I'm strong and therefore avoid at all possible costs. Yes, I do realize to get strong I need to lift the weights. I said I was on the quest to be the perfect Wife and Mommy to my family, not the perfect workout parnter.

On this particular morning, Little Guy rolled out of bed and was ready to show me how to create biceps.

He has very good form, for a two year old.

He is also very good at counting to ten.

The only issue we have when Little Guy rolls out of bed to be my personal trainer is the weight size. I like him to stick to his one pounders. He is not always a fan of pink and wants to pick up the heavier, gray weights I use. (Notice I said "I use" - feel free to kindly remind Big Poppy we have an adequate workout room or that the weather is pretty nice outside these days. Is it shameful to enlist your help in getting Big Poppy back on the workout trail? You can also kindly remind Big Poppy that workout endorphines are a good thing and have him look to me as an example.)

Anyways, Little Guy is very good at bicep curls. He must get that from me.

Those are Stickers

We do are best to keep Little Guy clean. Sometimes it is difficult because he is an active little boy. I promise, his shirt is not dirty here. He is just really into stickers.

Stickers can be used a bribe or a reward or, if I'm feeling naughty, torture (as you keep the stickers just out of reach but within eye sight but are unable to hear "sticker, sticker, sticker" - which is said in an increasingly whiny voice).

What I like to do sometimes is time Little Guy's reaction time. You ask him polite to come see you. No response. You may tell him to come see you in a little more authoritative tone. No response. You ask if he would like a sticker.

And in true fashion, as soon as Little Guy sees the camera, the smile brightens his face.

He also moves quicker when there is a camera around.

A camera could likely make Little Guy move quicker than stickers do.

And he just cannot wait to see his face on the camera's display.