Let’s talk about hold music

Shall we? You know, that crap “elevator” music you must endure each time you’re put on hold on the phone. Now riddle me this… WHY on earth must it be so terrible? Always??

 

A few weeks ago while on hold I had to listen to “That’s Just the Way It Is” by Phil Collins, which on its own isn’t too obnoxiously unbearable, but throw it into a never-ending string of mind-numbing shit songs and I was ready to chuck my phone across the room by the end of the first refrain. Then this morning I again found myself on perma-hold, being serenaded by the worst light jazz channel I’ve ever heard.

 

Why do companies think their customers, patients, etc., want to hear note after note after note of horrendous music, when they’re probably already in a bad mood about whatever it is that’s causing them to call in and be stuck on hold in the first place? And who picks this stuff out anyway? I’d like to meet the person who decided that oh yeah, EVERYONE wants to listen to Kenny G for 45 minutes while we ignore their call. I would swiftly kick him/her in the shins and duct tape headphones on them to pump in their nauseating choice of songs.

 

Come on, mix it up a little for us! I don’t know about you guys, but personally, I would LOVE to hear some Snoop Dogg for my “on hold” station. That is my JAM! I would rock the socks off some hold time if I could be rollin’ down the street sippin on gin and juice. Or rockin rough and stuff with my afropuffs – hey rage, rock on wit yo bad self! Yeeeaahh, I could be on hold all day listening to Doggystyle.

 

Seriously, throw us a bone here, on hold music administrators. Like I said, chances are pretty good that we’re going to be pissed off when you finally decide to answer our call in the order in which it was received since we’ve been sitting there so long waiting to either chew you out because some worthless product failed us again or to make an appointment for a procedure that no one in their right mind would enjoy. So it would be in your best interest to not enrage us further by making us want to pluck our eyebrows out with your god-awful music, but maybe try to soften the blow to your eardrums a bit by lightening our mood with a little rock ‘n roll, hip hop, or even some Christmas carols this time of year.

 

But please, for the love of god, PLEASE don’t make me listen to any more Phil Collins. Cuz that’s just not the way it is in my book.

 

 

 

Back for a sec

I know I said I needed to take a little break after my Week in My Life, and I do. I just needed to get a few things off my chest first, because it’s one of those days again. Those days that need a little venting…

I’m in a funk for a minute. Here’s why:

  • A big project I’ve been really excited about and spent a lot of time on fell through yesterday, which totally sucks.
  • The Brewers are out of the playoffs. (not life-altering, but just a small contributing factor)
  • I hate when my body doesn’t cooperate with me; I’m very less than pleased with it right now. I need to get some runs thrown in again, but I hate running when it’s cold and of course the weather is now starting to turn. Maybe a detox is in order? (hmm, i have a funny feeling i don’t have the willpower for one, but who knows)
  • I was really looking forward to something that had tentatively been slated for next Spring, but now that’s off the table too. Thanks a lot.
  • Starbucks completely messed up my chai this morning – foamy, watery, warm when it was an iced drink. Not the self-pity treat I was anticipating. (again, not a huge deal, just adding to the shittiness of today)

Yes, I know none of these are major problems and I have so many things for which to be thankful. Don’t worry, I am. I’m just in a mood again and feeling like a brat, so I needed to get that out. There. Thank you. Back later.

 

I’m beginning to feel seriously disliked

By my own 14 month old.

Has anyone else with a toddler experienced this, or am I just lucky to suddenly seemingly be the object of my daughter’s disaffection?

The first signs came weeks ago, when diaper and clothes changes on her changing dresser became all-out battles. As soon as I pick her up to lay her up there she begins writhing and kicking in the air, doing anything she can to avoid landing on her changing mat.

This is so crazy to me, because she used to absolutely love it up there. I mean L-O-V-E it. When she was really little she’d get all excited and wiggle around when placed on it for changes. We called it doing her “mat jigs”. And even up until recently she was perfectly content to look at one of her books or play with a lotion bottle while being changed.

But now it’s like her changing mat is on fire or a bed of nails when we put her on it. It usually takes all my might these days to keep her in place so as not to get poop smeared all over her, me, the wall, and the dresser when it’s dirty diaper time.

And I’m kind of ashamed to admit this, but the other night I even resorted to leaning my full weight onto her to push her down so I could get her diaper changed before putting on her pajamas. I mean come on. A grown adult using full-body strength to flatten down her kicking and flailing toddler all for the sake of 1 f’ng diaper? Seems ridiculous, but that is to what I’ve been reduced.

I’ve also been getting “that look” from her a lot lately. That look where she raises her eyebrows and opens her eyes real big, then kind of crinkles up her upper lip and gives a squeaky grunt like no! I don’t want to do that!

Really? You’re ONE. I don’t remember there being a clause in the rule book of life that says ONE year olds get to call the shots. I’m the mom, just trust me right now.

I know I’ve mentioned this one before, but she already exhibits some terrible 2-ish behavior, too. Like the throw-herself-down-on-the-floor-and-cry when she either doesn’t get something she wants or gets something taken away from her that she’s not supposed to have. Very mature.

And if she’s in her high chair and decides she’s totally over eating or sees something on her tray that displeases her, she smashes all her food then swipes her hands across her tray real fast to fling everything onto the floor. Rude.

And the most recent display in this category is the crying meltdown that ensues when she reaches her arms up to you to be picked up but you’re doing something or your hands are full so you can’t get her THAT VERY SECOND. Awesome. Because we’re so heartless that it takes us longer than 1.5 nanoseconds to pick up our child when she thinks she needs to be held.

But this next one is the real winner.

I swear to you, D would rather camp out at daycare round-the-clock than come home with me in the afternoons now. I’m not gonna lie, either. It kinda breaks my heart a little each time and is what has most made me feel like a mommy unloved.

I’m so used to her plowing over any toy and child in her path to get to my arms when she sees me in the door to her room when I arrive for pick-up, that now when she doesn’t even want me to hold her I can’t help but feel totally rejected.

2 perfect examples…

Monday this week her class was on the playground when I picked her up because the weather has been so gorgeous these past couple days. She and another little girl were being pushed in a double-seater swing by the teacher, and when she saw me she lit up with outstretched arms to come get me. Awesome, that’s what I love.

We went inside so I could sign her out on the attendance sheet, and she made an immediate bee-line for the wooden rocking boat in their room, climbed in, and started rocking like crazy. Oh that’s so cute, I thought. I’ve never seen her play in one of those before. Ok, time to go, so I reached for her to pick her out of the boat and carry her back out the door.

You’d think I was coming at her with a hot poker the way she recoiled and grabbed onto the handles of the boat for dear life, wanting nothing to do with me and the nice home to which I was taking her. Hmm, all right.

I finally was able to pry her out of the boat and set her down on the classroom floor since she was trying to flop away from me. Mistake. For then all she wanted to do was run around and play in her empty classroom. The flopping and squealing immediately resumed when I gathered her up to take her out to the car to head home.

Then Tuesday this week I experienced a similar get-away-from-me-Mom episode, again when I picked her up from daycare.

Their class was out on the playground enjoying more sunshine, and this time D was going down the slide when I arrived. She spotted me mid-slide, and I shit you not, she splayed out on the slide when she got to the bottom like she usually does when I try to pick her up even though I was nowhere near her, then sat up and tried to shove a whole handful of wood chips in her mouth with that defiant look on her face again.

What? Like eating wood chips is going to get you out of coming home with me? Puh-lease.

There was no greeting me with outstretched arms this time. No. The teacher had to carry her squirming body and hand her over the fence to me. At least this time I knew better than to put her down when we went into her room to sign out. I may still be there trying to remove her from the premises if I had.

So what gives? What has happened to cause this fall from grace of mine? I used to be the one she wanted all the time. Now it seems like I’m the last one she wants. I guess I more expected this assertion of independence around oh, say age 15, not 1. Is this normal? Or have I really done something wrong to make my little girl not like her mommy anymore?

 

 

Am I?

Am I good enough?

Am I strong enough?

Am I fast enough?

Will D always love me?

Am I setting a good example for her as both a parent and a person?

Am I making the right choices for her?

Will R always love me?

Am I now and will I forever be all he ever dreamed of, or am I just adequate?

Did he settle?

Will I have the resolve to do what I dream or will I just keep on?

Am I a good mom?

Will I be able to always be a good mom no matter how many children we have?

Am I smart enough?

Am I as “smart” as I once was?

Am I nice?

Am I one who people view as a good and decent person, or am I one who’s followed by whispers of, “Oh there’s that girl again”?

Can I take care of everything?

Can I do what I need?

Will we always be happy?

Will we always be safe?

Am I doing the right things?

Am I enough?

 

Why am I doubting?

 

The air up here

For those of you who don’t know me irl, I’m tall. Some would even say really tall. I’m 5′ 11.5″, so just a shade under 6′. And I love it. I wouldn’t trade being tall for being short for anything. I can reach stuff easily, I don’t have to stand on a chair to get something from the back/top of cabinets, I can quickly scan most crowds when necessary, I can hold stuff out of my toddler’s reach with incredible ease, and it’s just less crowded up here.

Buying pants sucks, though, as I have a pretty normal-sized torso with really long legs. Tops can get tricky as well, as I have to find length to cover my pterodactyl-like wingspan while not ending up with enough material in the body to look like a tent.

However, there is 1 thing that has always bothered me about being an above-average height. And that is the incredibly common exclamation, often from complete strangers, of, “You’re so TALL!!”

Um, no shit. This is undoubtedly the first thing people notice when they see me, so why do you feel the need to proclaim it like you’re having an epiphany? And I’ve never been able to figure out what people expect me to respond when they say that. “What? I am??” Or maybe, “For serious??” What about, “Get out!” (with a corresponding shove to the chest like elaine did in that one seinfeld episode) I have never once responded, “Thank you,” because is it really a compliment? Am I supposed to be flattered at your incredulity when you stare at me with your mouth agape and comment on the utter obviousness that is my height?

You have no idea how many times I’ve gotten that comment, either. It’s probably verging on a million by now. It’s like some people have never seen tall humans before. Like I came straight out of the zoo or circus and just appeared in front of them. I didn’t think being tall was such an oddity, but to some I’m quite the side show attraction. This was pretty funny, though – one Halloween a few years ago we were at one of the bars downtown and someone gave me a card to join the Milwaukee Tall Club, or something like that. No joke. That really does exist. And this guy had a good foot on me, so the number of times he’s been gawked at has to put mine to shame.

These comments don’t make me mad really, just more annoyed. Like that’s just a dumb thing to say. And why do people think that’s a normal thing to say? I’ve never felt the urge to walk up to someone and comment on their height. But maybe that makes me the weird one? Maybe next time I’ll just respond with, “No, you’re just really short.”

 

Glad that one was just a dream

When D woke me up 20 minutes before my alarm this morning I was having my first 9/11 nightmare in a long time, if ever. I’m guessing it stemmed from all of the current publicity surrounding the 10 year anniversary of it that is approaching.

In my dream I was down in the subways under the World Trade Center as I was that morning, but this time I knew everything that was going to happen. It was like I was the only one who knew what the next few minutes held, so I was trying to get up and outside to where I had been that day. I kept warning people to get out of there and take cover, but no one paid me any attention. Just another crazy New Yorker running around. I finally wound my way around to the outer perimeter of the WTC, and watched, plain as day, the first plane crash right into the north tower. It was weird, though, because from my vantage point in the dream the towers were a fraction as tall as they really had been, so everything was magnified since it was so close to the ground. A piece of glass from the explosion fell into my eye.

After witnessing that first crash (i’m still in the dream here), I ran around to another side of the shortened tower, where I began seeing people jumping from the windows to get out. Thank god I never saw that in real life. I think it would have caused many, many more nightmares before now. But this morning I was frozen in place, watching people throw themselves out of the towers in droves; some peaceful-looking, resigned to their fate below, some screaming in sheer terror. I couldn’t believe it.

Then at the end of the dream I found myself over on the very lower eastern tip of Manhattan, where a huge tidal wave was crashing in to destroy that part of the city. I have no idea where that one came from, since there were no tidal waves occurring in NYC on 9/11. That would have been really unfair.

Whew. That was one of those dreams where you are just so thankful to be able to wake up and walk away from the shadows.

 

I’ve heard Neptune is lovely in the summer

Let me start off on a tangent here for a second. Yesterday I had to get 3 fillings at the dentist to seal some sensitive areas at my gumline. Hey, at least they weren’t cavities. Yeah, whatever, they were still fillings and involved drilling. Fun. So anyway, why do dentists try to make small talk as they’re preparing you for this oral nightmare? I mean really – I’m sitting in the chair, one quarter of my face is numb from the giant Novocaine shots, I can’t move my lips properly to actually form words anymore, and you want to know what my plans are for the rest of the summer? Come on. I’m trying to psyche myself up for the fact that you’re about to drill holes. In my head. Let’s cut the chitter chatter and get this over with. Now don’t get me wrong, I really like my dentist’s office. The girls who work there are awesome, my dentist himself is really good, and if I’m just in for a routine cleaning? Fine, I’ll shoot the shit all day long. But when I have to get needles and drills shoved into my mouth, please don’t waste any time and prolong the torture. Ok, that’s all. And now back to our regularly scheduled posting.

I knew there was a reason I don’t like to read the news that often. Take a look at some of these recent headlines. And they all appeared on the same front page of a national news website. I didn’t even have to do any scrolling or anything!

“Norway hunts answers after massacre”
“Landslide kills 32 in South Korea”
“Gulf storm could become cyclone”
“U.S. Olympic skier kills himself”
“Why was skeleton in bank chimney?”
“Amy Winehouse’s final days”
“Teen bride talks sex with husband, 51”
“Actress: I got compliments for looking emaciated”

And over here we have some lovely ones from a local news site:

“One acquittal, one conviction for man in execution-style murders”
“City records fifth unsafe sleeping death of infant”
“Suspects in custody after armed robbery, exchange of gunfire with Milwaukee Police”
“Sheboygan teen charged with assaulting 7-year-old” (ok, well, that is from sheboygan)
“1 dead, 1 missing after boat accident in Minnesota”

And my personal favorite:

“Woman sues man for her herpes, seeks $350,000”

No, I promise I did not make that last one up either. I can send you the link if you really want it.  But seriously, what a grim state of affairs in which to be living. Not to mention all the debt ceiling bullshit that’s going on in Washington right now too. Where’s the good news? Is there even any to report? Is there nothing out there to uplift our spirits, or are we stuck with political battles, natural disasters, death, and STDs?

Maybe we can just hightail it outta here and set up shop somewhere new. One of the outer planets, maybe? Who’s in? I’ve got an aerobed and a bag of marshmallows for roasting. Jumbo size ones, too!