Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Monday, June 27, 2011
Job
Today started my third week at Go East. I know. Crazy right? Good crazy though.
Overall, my impressions of my new company? It's pretty stinkin' great. Although I may be a bias newbie, there is significant evidence to back up my theory. They're hiring for one. Unheard of in today's economy. Second, they're consistently busy. Having work to fill your day is always comforting. Third, they're fun. They actually have a fun committee. They do fun things. They play little games and reward people. All this to say, they seem to value their employees. Validation: the single most important concept lost in some company cultures today if you ask me, but I digress. To give a few examples of said fun, breakfast is provided every Friday, dogs are allowed the first Friday of every month, there's a pool table in the lunch room, email games are sent with chocolate for rewards, the owner handed me my paycheck followed with a "thank you" and probably the greatest of all, they started a baby pool for me. I worked at my former place of employment for seven years. Seven years and no baby pool. I worked here for two days and on the second day, a company-wide email was sent setting up a baby pool for me. And from what I hear… no one has me delivering in July. Dammit.
My first week entailed a lot of touring, name learning, paperwork and procedure memorizing. Nothing too exhilarating but a nice way to ease into things. By the end of the week I was well on my way into projects and getting comfortable in my new digs. The beginning of the second week brought much of the same but by Wednesday I had been given my first big design task. A bit stressful but challenging, rewarding stress, that I missed actually. You know the type. The kind that gives you butterflies, has you questioning your abilities but at the same time makes you want to do nothing more then knock their socks off because you know you have it in you? Yeah, that kind. By the end of last week I was well into the project and today in fact, routed it to proofing. May not sound like fireworks to you but to me, it was refreshing and for the first time in a long time, I felt accomplished. I believe I was given a pretty significant project with it only being my second week and I think, so far, it's been a success. We shall see tomorrow…
I seem to be transitioning eerily well. That's not to say I haven't been beyond exhausted in doing so because let's face it, there's only so much room in this prego brain and it's beyond capacity at this point, but I'm making it. It was also a pretty rough start the first couple of days since the hubby was out of town but I've managed to recover each weekend and I actually, dare I put it in writing… I actually like going to work. It's amazing what a little change in scenery can do for a person. It's amazing what feeling valued can do to a person's attitude. So far, it's just been plain amazing.
Overall, my impressions of my new company? It's pretty stinkin' great. Although I may be a bias newbie, there is significant evidence to back up my theory. They're hiring for one. Unheard of in today's economy. Second, they're consistently busy. Having work to fill your day is always comforting. Third, they're fun. They actually have a fun committee. They do fun things. They play little games and reward people. All this to say, they seem to value their employees. Validation: the single most important concept lost in some company cultures today if you ask me, but I digress. To give a few examples of said fun, breakfast is provided every Friday, dogs are allowed the first Friday of every month, there's a pool table in the lunch room, email games are sent with chocolate for rewards, the owner handed me my paycheck followed with a "thank you" and probably the greatest of all, they started a baby pool for me. I worked at my former place of employment for seven years. Seven years and no baby pool. I worked here for two days and on the second day, a company-wide email was sent setting up a baby pool for me. And from what I hear… no one has me delivering in July. Dammit.
My first week entailed a lot of touring, name learning, paperwork and procedure memorizing. Nothing too exhilarating but a nice way to ease into things. By the end of the week I was well on my way into projects and getting comfortable in my new digs. The beginning of the second week brought much of the same but by Wednesday I had been given my first big design task. A bit stressful but challenging, rewarding stress, that I missed actually. You know the type. The kind that gives you butterflies, has you questioning your abilities but at the same time makes you want to do nothing more then knock their socks off because you know you have it in you? Yeah, that kind. By the end of last week I was well into the project and today in fact, routed it to proofing. May not sound like fireworks to you but to me, it was refreshing and for the first time in a long time, I felt accomplished. I believe I was given a pretty significant project with it only being my second week and I think, so far, it's been a success. We shall see tomorrow…
I seem to be transitioning eerily well. That's not to say I haven't been beyond exhausted in doing so because let's face it, there's only so much room in this prego brain and it's beyond capacity at this point, but I'm making it. It was also a pretty rough start the first couple of days since the hubby was out of town but I've managed to recover each weekend and I actually, dare I put it in writing… I actually like going to work. It's amazing what a little change in scenery can do for a person. It's amazing what feeling valued can do to a person's attitude. So far, it's just been plain amazing.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Tribute
I'm gonna do a good ole fashion play on words here. This post is a tribute to our dearly departed 1994 Chevys. It's also to announce Team DeBoer's new Tribute. The SUV that has some mighty, mighty shoes to fill.
After much searching, researching, deliberation and debate, to the credit of Mr. DeBoer, we selected, test drove and used trade-ins to purchase a 2003 Mazda Tribute. Before I impress you with it's stats, let me first pay a fond farewell to the bitchin' Beretta and the Cav.
It was a scary, albeit sad, last hurrah down Ruggles to the dealership. Before departure, we stripped the contents of each making sure to only hang on to the necessities: Dad's camo seat cover, steering wheel cover, visor CD holder and red notebook he used to keep track of gas mileage. We were sure to donate both manuals as well as the Beretta's how-to tutorial cassette tape and repair manual we rec'd a few years back from the resourceful Ole. We didn't want to shorthand the next lucky recipient. (I know, I know… I'm sure they're going to the junk yard to be stripped and shredded but you don't have to say it and I don't have to acknowledge it. Let me have my "farm" would yah?)
The Cav topped out at a mighty 218,338 miles and the Beretta, not far behind, ended with a mere 190,956 miles. I took photos of the odometers as proof. That's right. Call me what you will but I've had the Beretta since 2002. I paid for every red cent of it by myself and put over 100,000 miles on it. She's been towed more times then I like to recall, she was showing her age with a few rust spots, she may have had a missing hubcap and a few others that were cracked and her brakes might not have ended up uber reliable but she was 17 years old for cryin' out loud. Thanks to all the work Dad did on her, I'm proud to say she made it this far. And who doesn't crave a teal car? Come. On. As for the Cav, well it was Dad's. No further explanation needed but I must tell you, we got more compliments and offers on that car then you would guess because of the great shape it was in. Mmm-hmm.
They were great cars, they will be greatly missed and I think most feel it's great we got rid of them.
Alright, alright. Without further adieu, here's our new, fancier, more reliable, larger, safer and all around better vehicle: the 2003 Mazda Tribute. Now when I say Mr. D did his homework, I mean Mr. D did his homework. Obnoxiously so. He was obsessed and was on Auto Trader constantly. Then he was on Consumer Reports constantly. We do not make these decisions lightly and in keeping with that tradition, Shawn exhausted all resources, not to mention my patience, in his search. In the end, he made the perfect choice. I credit him for his diligence whilst I do a happy dance that's he done! We now have a SUV with more room, push button 4-wheel drive, a hitch (for Shawn's future dream boat), much fewer miles (67,000ish), new tires, a roof rack and ample space for us, Cletus and the boys (who will be banished to the waaaaaay back). It's pretty, it's perfect and because it had a clean car fax report and passed a pre-pruchase car inspection at our local mechanics (thanks to a coupon), it's priceless.
I have to say, I feel like we're quite the grown ups now. We have two vehicles in our driveway that were made in the 2000s. Maybe we'll even start parking one in the garage. Maybe…
After much searching, researching, deliberation and debate, to the credit of Mr. DeBoer, we selected, test drove and used trade-ins to purchase a 2003 Mazda Tribute. Before I impress you with it's stats, let me first pay a fond farewell to the bitchin' Beretta and the Cav.
It was a scary, albeit sad, last hurrah down Ruggles to the dealership. Before departure, we stripped the contents of each making sure to only hang on to the necessities: Dad's camo seat cover, steering wheel cover, visor CD holder and red notebook he used to keep track of gas mileage. We were sure to donate both manuals as well as the Beretta's how-to tutorial cassette tape and repair manual we rec'd a few years back from the resourceful Ole. We didn't want to shorthand the next lucky recipient. (I know, I know… I'm sure they're going to the junk yard to be stripped and shredded but you don't have to say it and I don't have to acknowledge it. Let me have my "farm" would yah?)
The Cav topped out at a mighty 218,338 miles and the Beretta, not far behind, ended with a mere 190,956 miles. I took photos of the odometers as proof. That's right. Call me what you will but I've had the Beretta since 2002. I paid for every red cent of it by myself and put over 100,000 miles on it. She's been towed more times then I like to recall, she was showing her age with a few rust spots, she may have had a missing hubcap and a few others that were cracked and her brakes might not have ended up uber reliable but she was 17 years old for cryin' out loud. Thanks to all the work Dad did on her, I'm proud to say she made it this far. And who doesn't crave a teal car? Come. On. As for the Cav, well it was Dad's. No further explanation needed but I must tell you, we got more compliments and offers on that car then you would guess because of the great shape it was in. Mmm-hmm.
They were great cars, they will be greatly missed and I think most feel it's great we got rid of them.
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| Cut down in their prime. |
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| Sad DeBoers. |
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| Notice the shimmer? The shine? The new tires? |
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| The Tribute's profile. Eat your heart out. |
Sunday, June 19, 2011
DAY-AMN!
"That's a huge bitch!"
Aside from the ever expanding belly, there's been lots of events this week.
1. I officially have kankles. I got home from work, looked down and there they were. I was so depressed I ate six Oreos instead of five.
2. I experienced my first intense calf cramp and then shortly thereafter, my second. Afterwards I thought… shit, this birthing thing is gonna hurt!
3. I had my second official meltdown. Two in over eight months isn't bad people! Someone just needs to convince Shawn of that.
4. Shawn and I switched the sides of bed we sleep on. While he was gone (fishing), I discovered it's MUCH easier to roll out his side of the bed and it's closer to the glass of water, Tums, door, bathroom, kitchen and everything in between.
5. I've reached exhaustion. Beyond actually. Growing a kid sure takes a lot outta ya.
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| Week 30 – Holy belly batman! |
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| Week 31 – Mmmhmmm |
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| Week 32 – I have never been soooooooooooooooooooo sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeepy. |
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| Week 33 – Watching Cletus move; Shawn's spawn I tell ya. |
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| Week 34 – Widths of epic proportions. |
Aside from the ever expanding belly, there's been lots of events this week.
1. I officially have kankles. I got home from work, looked down and there they were. I was so depressed I ate six Oreos instead of five.
2. I experienced my first intense calf cramp and then shortly thereafter, my second. Afterwards I thought… shit, this birthing thing is gonna hurt!
3. I had my second official meltdown. Two in over eight months isn't bad people! Someone just needs to convince Shawn of that.
4. Shawn and I switched the sides of bed we sleep on. While he was gone (fishing), I discovered it's MUCH easier to roll out his side of the bed and it's closer to the glass of water, Tums, door, bathroom, kitchen and everything in between.
5. I've reached exhaustion. Beyond actually. Growing a kid sure takes a lot outta ya.
Friday, June 17, 2011
Canada
Mr. D and the boys recently returned from their annual fishing trip up north and I've been hearing about it ever since. Maybe I can persuade him into writing a little diddy for the ole blog here. If not, just know they had a (Tony the Tiger) GREEEAAAATE time, the young-ins caught all the fish and Shawn continued his tradition of donating to the sea. The countdown until next year has officially started…
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| L to R: Ty, Shawn, Brad, Chad, Cayden and Bill |
Friday, June 10, 2011
Boys
Last night Shawn didn't feel so hot. His eyes were terribly sore so he went to lay down… an hour later he had some company and the pregnant lady was forced to the sofa.
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| They're lucky they're all so damn cute. |
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Reflection
Tomorrow is my very last day at Bolger and so I'm sitting here at my now empty, clean and generic desk watching the minutes tick away. There's not much to do and quite frankly, not much of me cares to do it anyway. I've cleaned out my personal belongings, downloaded and removed everything digital that is mine and have even devoid my computer desktop of any personal wallpaper. I have officially Grinchified my cubicle. It has no character, no more color and is therefore making me both a) very sleepy and b) excited to wipe my work slate clean and start anew. It is, however, also bringing back some nostalgic memories…
It's been almost seven years since I've started this job. The weekend before I began at Bolger was also the weekend I moved to Minnesota. I remember it vividly. The state fair was in town. My parents and Shawn had moved me into my new (teeny, tiny) studio apartment. Mom and Mike hooked up my A/C unit in the window (it, was, HOT) and Dad and Shawn carried (and complained about moving) my love seat up three flights of narrow stairs with directional help and encouragement from Tammy. Pretty sure Ty and I supervised. Afterwards we went out to eat at none other then Subway, Dad treated. I learned on our wedding day that he was pretty scared about me living up in the big city by myself and was thankful when Shawn was finally able to move north and be with me. He told me so during our father/daughter dance to Billy Joel's Piano Man, his favorite song… aaaaannd, tears. Luckily I would've been fine no matter what. I had bought some mace and always kept it in my purse along with his classic self-defense advice: kick 'em in the balls and run!
When my parents had left and it was just Shawn and I, I honestly can't remember what we did although I'm guessing it was unpack and ready my lunch, driving route, alarm and clothes for the next day. When night fell, I had to say goodbye and wish Shawn well on his trip back to Iowa. This was the night I saw him cry for the very first time. It came out of no where and I was taken aback by this bullshitter breaking down in front of me. He's since told me that he was just nervous for me and kept picturing me sitting at the lunch table the next day all by myself, not knowing anyone. It makes me smile now since it's because of him, I refined my social skills and very easily made my way into a packed lunch table, full of conversation, full of bullshit from the young newbie and full of future friends.
Since that weekend, we have resided in an apartment in Eagan, a townhouse in Woodbury and now our home in Roseville. Shawn has since attained two further degrees in Health and DAPE and is working towards his Masters. He's worked at three different schools and has gained an immense amount of experience, praise and coworkers he can now call friends. We added Mr. Norman to the mix while at our townhouse in Woodbury. Even though he was a long time coming, he was still, to this day, the only impulsive thing we've ever done. Leo came last year after I finally won the battle and Shawn broke down for a buddy for Norman. Now there's Cletus. Cletus the fetus who is due in exactly seven weeks and should come in 6-8 if he/she knows what's good for her/him. Through all of this, through the changes and additions and the year from hell that came and went, two things have held steady. The bitchin' Beretta and my job at Bolger.
Ironically I won't see Shawn on my first day at my new job either although I'm pretty sure he won't be crying this time. The bastard is headed to Canada Friday for the boys' annual fishing trip. It's all he can think, talk and dream about. The man loves fishing. All cynicism aside, I wish he was going to be here but at the very least, I won't be alone. Mandi will be in town so I will have someone to pack my lunch, confirm my choice of clothing, check my alarm (three times - right Man?) and wish me well. I'd drive the Beretta just for shits, giggles and good ole memories but I might not make it and if I did, I'd be a sexy pool of sweat by the time I got there. Put that mental picture in your mind and love it.
It's been almost seven years since I've started this job. The weekend before I began at Bolger was also the weekend I moved to Minnesota. I remember it vividly. The state fair was in town. My parents and Shawn had moved me into my new (teeny, tiny) studio apartment. Mom and Mike hooked up my A/C unit in the window (it, was, HOT) and Dad and Shawn carried (and complained about moving) my love seat up three flights of narrow stairs with directional help and encouragement from Tammy. Pretty sure Ty and I supervised. Afterwards we went out to eat at none other then Subway, Dad treated. I learned on our wedding day that he was pretty scared about me living up in the big city by myself and was thankful when Shawn was finally able to move north and be with me. He told me so during our father/daughter dance to Billy Joel's Piano Man, his favorite song… aaaaannd, tears. Luckily I would've been fine no matter what. I had bought some mace and always kept it in my purse along with his classic self-defense advice: kick 'em in the balls and run!
When my parents had left and it was just Shawn and I, I honestly can't remember what we did although I'm guessing it was unpack and ready my lunch, driving route, alarm and clothes for the next day. When night fell, I had to say goodbye and wish Shawn well on his trip back to Iowa. This was the night I saw him cry for the very first time. It came out of no where and I was taken aback by this bullshitter breaking down in front of me. He's since told me that he was just nervous for me and kept picturing me sitting at the lunch table the next day all by myself, not knowing anyone. It makes me smile now since it's because of him, I refined my social skills and very easily made my way into a packed lunch table, full of conversation, full of bullshit from the young newbie and full of future friends.
Since that weekend, we have resided in an apartment in Eagan, a townhouse in Woodbury and now our home in Roseville. Shawn has since attained two further degrees in Health and DAPE and is working towards his Masters. He's worked at three different schools and has gained an immense amount of experience, praise and coworkers he can now call friends. We added Mr. Norman to the mix while at our townhouse in Woodbury. Even though he was a long time coming, he was still, to this day, the only impulsive thing we've ever done. Leo came last year after I finally won the battle and Shawn broke down for a buddy for Norman. Now there's Cletus. Cletus the fetus who is due in exactly seven weeks and should come in 6-8 if he/she knows what's good for her/him. Through all of this, through the changes and additions and the year from hell that came and went, two things have held steady. The bitchin' Beretta and my job at Bolger.
Ironically I won't see Shawn on my first day at my new job either although I'm pretty sure he won't be crying this time. The bastard is headed to Canada Friday for the boys' annual fishing trip. It's all he can think, talk and dream about. The man loves fishing. All cynicism aside, I wish he was going to be here but at the very least, I won't be alone. Mandi will be in town so I will have someone to pack my lunch, confirm my choice of clothing, check my alarm (three times - right Man?) and wish me well. I'd drive the Beretta just for shits, giggles and good ole memories but I might not make it and if I did, I'd be a sexy pool of sweat by the time I got there. Put that mental picture in your mind and love it.
Friday, June 3, 2011
East
That's right. I'm headed east, as in Go East. As of Monday, June 13th, I officially have a new job people! Woo to the mother lovin hoo! Picture this prego lady happy dancing! Okay, stop… I'm winded and that's just wrong.
My new role at my new company *grin* will be as a Production Designer. It's Friday and I'm too tired to explain the specifics of what that means, so just know it's a step in the right direction for my long-term career goals. I am more then psyched to dig in and get started and am counting down the days I have left at Bolger. Four to be exact. My last day will officially be Thursday, June 9th. You did the math right. That gives me one, whole, glorious day off, the weekend and then I start my new adventure! Scary - but oh sooooo exciting! And a long time coming if I might say so myself. It will be seven years this September since I started a new job and therefore a) I feel really old, b) I don't remember what it's like to be the newbie and c) I cannot wait! I feel like a giddy kid waiting for Christmas! The only snafu… if you can even call it that, is that Shawn will be on his annual fishing trip in Canada and won't get to see me off on my first official day. Don't shed a melodramatic tear for me Argentina, I'm a big girl (literally), I'll be fine. Plus, Mandi will be here so she'll get to witness all that is anxious Kali (no turning back now - you already bought your ticket!).
For all you pseudo moms, dads and looker-afterers of Team DeBoer, have no fear. We have crossed all our t's, dotted all our i's and did all the researching we'd need for this transition. With Shawn's future employment unknown (more on that in a different post), we will still have insurance, I will still get maternity leave, I'm sure we've address every question or concern you can think of and we will still have everything covered for the wee Cletus.
Speaking of which… (big picture lesson coming) don't ever let anyone or anything or any site or any video or any medium or any source whatsoever ever tell you you shouldn't look for another job just because you are pregnant. Scratch that. Let me be a little broader. Don't let anyone ever limit your happiness by your current circumstances. It was a delightful experience dabbling in my new career prospects because it reminded me that I am not just a fetus vessel but am in fact, a highly intelligent, gifted, working woman. No one thing will consume or define me and that makes me smile all the way down to my liver. In fact, I dare to say that I think Cletus would be pretty proud of this Mama…
P.S. This also makes us officially on the search for a new (used) vehicle to replace the two beasts. I will now need something reliable and safe beings that I'll be going further then 4.75 miles.
My new role at my new company *grin* will be as a Production Designer. It's Friday and I'm too tired to explain the specifics of what that means, so just know it's a step in the right direction for my long-term career goals. I am more then psyched to dig in and get started and am counting down the days I have left at Bolger. Four to be exact. My last day will officially be Thursday, June 9th. You did the math right. That gives me one, whole, glorious day off, the weekend and then I start my new adventure! Scary - but oh sooooo exciting! And a long time coming if I might say so myself. It will be seven years this September since I started a new job and therefore a) I feel really old, b) I don't remember what it's like to be the newbie and c) I cannot wait! I feel like a giddy kid waiting for Christmas! The only snafu… if you can even call it that, is that Shawn will be on his annual fishing trip in Canada and won't get to see me off on my first official day. Don't shed a melodramatic tear for me Argentina, I'm a big girl (literally), I'll be fine. Plus, Mandi will be here so she'll get to witness all that is anxious Kali (no turning back now - you already bought your ticket!).
For all you pseudo moms, dads and looker-afterers of Team DeBoer, have no fear. We have crossed all our t's, dotted all our i's and did all the researching we'd need for this transition. With Shawn's future employment unknown (more on that in a different post), we will still have insurance, I will still get maternity leave, I'm sure we've address every question or concern you can think of and we will still have everything covered for the wee Cletus.
Speaking of which… (big picture lesson coming) don't ever let anyone or anything or any site or any video or any medium or any source whatsoever ever tell you you shouldn't look for another job just because you are pregnant. Scratch that. Let me be a little broader. Don't let anyone ever limit your happiness by your current circumstances. It was a delightful experience dabbling in my new career prospects because it reminded me that I am not just a fetus vessel but am in fact, a highly intelligent, gifted, working woman. No one thing will consume or define me and that makes me smile all the way down to my liver. In fact, I dare to say that I think Cletus would be pretty proud of this Mama…
P.S. This also makes us officially on the search for a new (used) vehicle to replace the two beasts. I will now need something reliable and safe beings that I'll be going further then 4.75 miles.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Revelation
Readers beware, things are about to get graphic.
I'm trying to take this pregnancy thing in stride. I realize there is a learning curve but have mercy, things have quickly taken an awkward turn. I have unidentifiable alien parts moving around in my belly at all times. I no longer enjoy going to bed at night because it just means I'll have to get up to pee at least four times and have just as many pillows to help support my widening parts. I fear stairs. Frankly, they just piss me off because I have to usually stop halfway up the flight to catch my breath and steady my feet. My wardrobe is limited to about five total ensembles, none of which are mine (God bless Sara). I'm currently still wearing my own skeevies but it's about time to buy me some big girl underwear. Then there's the heartburn. I was surprised when I hadn't been experiencing any because I'm a chronic sufferer when not carrying Cletus so naturally I thought things would at least continue as is or if not get worse. However, I was sailing through. Sailing like Bill Murry in What About Bob. Then all of a sudden, bam! Someone lit a blow torch to my chest and throat and now I covet Tums like crystal meth candy. That coupled with the nice cold and cough I have right now and I want nothing more then to eat ice cream all day just so I can down the hatch with something cold. None of these are so called "minor" offenses in my eyes, but none, absolutely none, compare to the debacle I experienced yesterday.
Yesterday, I peed my pants. Literally. I knew I had to go because I always have to go. I pee like 634 times a day. I can finish going to the bathroom, stand up and instantly feel like I have to go again. It's that chronic in this my 32nd week of pregnancy. I say all this because I should've known better. I felt the urge and apparently ignored it out of rebellion, spite or just plain laziness. I was doing fine, I was surviving, and then... I sneezed. Holy hoo ha - I lost all control. By the time I realized what had happened, I was feeling a trickle down my leg and sprinting to the bathroom. I was immediately mortified but quickly came to laugh at the situation and as soon as I had changed my soiled pants, I ran to tell Shawn. Because that's the kinda marriage we have...
I had heard this was a prego problem but assumed it wouldn't happen to me until after the wee one was born. What fun finding out how wrong I was. What an astonishing revelation it was to actually lose control of a part of my body. If only those Pampers I had weren't newborn size...
I'm trying to take this pregnancy thing in stride. I realize there is a learning curve but have mercy, things have quickly taken an awkward turn. I have unidentifiable alien parts moving around in my belly at all times. I no longer enjoy going to bed at night because it just means I'll have to get up to pee at least four times and have just as many pillows to help support my widening parts. I fear stairs. Frankly, they just piss me off because I have to usually stop halfway up the flight to catch my breath and steady my feet. My wardrobe is limited to about five total ensembles, none of which are mine (God bless Sara). I'm currently still wearing my own skeevies but it's about time to buy me some big girl underwear. Then there's the heartburn. I was surprised when I hadn't been experiencing any because I'm a chronic sufferer when not carrying Cletus so naturally I thought things would at least continue as is or if not get worse. However, I was sailing through. Sailing like Bill Murry in What About Bob. Then all of a sudden, bam! Someone lit a blow torch to my chest and throat and now I covet Tums like crystal meth candy. That coupled with the nice cold and cough I have right now and I want nothing more then to eat ice cream all day just so I can down the hatch with something cold. None of these are so called "minor" offenses in my eyes, but none, absolutely none, compare to the debacle I experienced yesterday.
Yesterday, I peed my pants. Literally. I knew I had to go because I always have to go. I pee like 634 times a day. I can finish going to the bathroom, stand up and instantly feel like I have to go again. It's that chronic in this my 32nd week of pregnancy. I say all this because I should've known better. I felt the urge and apparently ignored it out of rebellion, spite or just plain laziness. I was doing fine, I was surviving, and then... I sneezed. Holy hoo ha - I lost all control. By the time I realized what had happened, I was feeling a trickle down my leg and sprinting to the bathroom. I was immediately mortified but quickly came to laugh at the situation and as soon as I had changed my soiled pants, I ran to tell Shawn. Because that's the kinda marriage we have...
I had heard this was a prego problem but assumed it wouldn't happen to me until after the wee one was born. What fun finding out how wrong I was. What an astonishing revelation it was to actually lose control of a part of my body. If only those Pampers I had weren't newborn size...
Thursday, May 26, 2011
DeBate
I like to call this the Great Team DeBoer DeBate: keep fixing what continues to ale our two beautiful beasts because we own them and therefore they are payment-free, or ditch them for something a bit newer, a bit more reliable and ultimately, a bit more expensive.
Exhibit A: We have a 1994 Chevy Beretta, teal, 2-door with 190,000ish miles. It's completely paid for, has brand spanking new seat covers, newish tires, we know what's been fixed and by whom and who's been driving and taking care of it. We carry liability-only insurance to the total of $381.40/year. That coupled with the yearly registration and tab fees of $41.25, equates to this bitch costing us about $35.22/month. The gas mileage is no where near what is should be because a) I drive 4.75 miles to work, in town and b) it doesn't run so well. The check engine light goes on and off daily. The breaks chug at every stop. The power locks and windows still work but make a monotonous clicking noise continuously from the time you open the door until the time you get in and close the door behind you. Doesn't sound like a big deal but when you're 31 weeks pregnant it takes a while to get in and out of a car of this nature and that incessant clicking is about enough to make my raging hormones flair and my large left thigh raise to kung-fu kick out a window. Also, the A/C doesn't work, it's a 2-door and therefore will not work for Cletus and the car just makes a lovely hissing, clanking, rough noise when it runs. Did I mention it's paid for?
Exhibit B: We have a 1994 Chevy Cavalier, green (painted by Dad), 2-door with 218,000ish miles. It's also completely paid for, sports a bad ass camo seat cover on the driver's side and a camo wheel cover as well. It was completely hauled over by Dad and thanks to his attention to detail, I have a written record of everything that was fixed, every part that was replaced, when, at what cost and by what manufacturer. I also have a record of every place he ever put in gas and therefore what the gas mileage has been since he owned it. Needless to say it's been steadily falling since we took it over. We also carry liability-only insurance on this beast (when we drive it) but thanks to the brakes going out recently, it's without said insurance and instead just does it's job decorating our front lawn. We just renewed the registration in April for $41.25 as well, which I had a feeling was going to jinx things. All-in-all, it basically costs the same as the Beretta. It does not have power locks or windows and also does not have A/C. It too is a 2-door and therefore will not accommodate Cletus, oh, and the power steering is slowly going out. We've been piddling through with some power steering fluid for a while now but it was a rough, rough winter. Some days I worked my Hee Man arms so much turning a corner I thought my biceps were going to rip open my sleeves. Due to this ailment, the car makes a lovely hissing, high pitched squeal that gets worse when you turn. I can't help it, this one holds a little sentimental value though.
The Cavalier is currently out of rotation because we were recently quoted a little over $700 worth in brake repairs. I was driving home one day and had them held at a red light when they gave way and sank all the way to the floor while the car crept ever so slightly forward. From there it was a bit of an adventurous ride home but I made it and they still "worked" well enough to do the job at the few stop signs I had left until Ruggles.
This quote is what ultimately reignited the debate to which I again instinctively said no, we are not buying anything new, these still run just fine. However rash this argument was at the time, I'm now starting to waver. We can't afford something new so it would have to be used and therefore we would be giving up used cars for another used car. We wouldn't know it's history but it would have much fewer miles, would be more reliable and would be a 4-door or SUV that would accommodate both Cletus and the pooches. It may sound like a no-brainer but I can't help but hear my Dad's voice saying "…fixing these once is much cheaper then a car payment for the next three to five years plus you'll be paying more in registration, tabs and insurance…". He was a very wise financial man so his advice does carry some validity.
But are they practical anymore? Are they reliable? Are they efficient? Do they accommodate our growing family? How long until the next fix and then the next? What will have to happen before we say enough is enough? Obviously I'm still undecided and there are a few other factors I haven't mentioned that are still panning out but this is why I'm turning to you. What would you do?
Exhibit A: We have a 1994 Chevy Beretta, teal, 2-door with 190,000ish miles. It's completely paid for, has brand spanking new seat covers, newish tires, we know what's been fixed and by whom and who's been driving and taking care of it. We carry liability-only insurance to the total of $381.40/year. That coupled with the yearly registration and tab fees of $41.25, equates to this bitch costing us about $35.22/month. The gas mileage is no where near what is should be because a) I drive 4.75 miles to work, in town and b) it doesn't run so well. The check engine light goes on and off daily. The breaks chug at every stop. The power locks and windows still work but make a monotonous clicking noise continuously from the time you open the door until the time you get in and close the door behind you. Doesn't sound like a big deal but when you're 31 weeks pregnant it takes a while to get in and out of a car of this nature and that incessant clicking is about enough to make my raging hormones flair and my large left thigh raise to kung-fu kick out a window. Also, the A/C doesn't work, it's a 2-door and therefore will not work for Cletus and the car just makes a lovely hissing, clanking, rough noise when it runs. Did I mention it's paid for?
Exhibit B: We have a 1994 Chevy Cavalier, green (painted by Dad), 2-door with 218,000ish miles. It's also completely paid for, sports a bad ass camo seat cover on the driver's side and a camo wheel cover as well. It was completely hauled over by Dad and thanks to his attention to detail, I have a written record of everything that was fixed, every part that was replaced, when, at what cost and by what manufacturer. I also have a record of every place he ever put in gas and therefore what the gas mileage has been since he owned it. Needless to say it's been steadily falling since we took it over. We also carry liability-only insurance on this beast (when we drive it) but thanks to the brakes going out recently, it's without said insurance and instead just does it's job decorating our front lawn. We just renewed the registration in April for $41.25 as well, which I had a feeling was going to jinx things. All-in-all, it basically costs the same as the Beretta. It does not have power locks or windows and also does not have A/C. It too is a 2-door and therefore will not accommodate Cletus, oh, and the power steering is slowly going out. We've been piddling through with some power steering fluid for a while now but it was a rough, rough winter. Some days I worked my Hee Man arms so much turning a corner I thought my biceps were going to rip open my sleeves. Due to this ailment, the car makes a lovely hissing, high pitched squeal that gets worse when you turn. I can't help it, this one holds a little sentimental value though.
The Cavalier is currently out of rotation because we were recently quoted a little over $700 worth in brake repairs. I was driving home one day and had them held at a red light when they gave way and sank all the way to the floor while the car crept ever so slightly forward. From there it was a bit of an adventurous ride home but I made it and they still "worked" well enough to do the job at the few stop signs I had left until Ruggles.
This quote is what ultimately reignited the debate to which I again instinctively said no, we are not buying anything new, these still run just fine. However rash this argument was at the time, I'm now starting to waver. We can't afford something new so it would have to be used and therefore we would be giving up used cars for another used car. We wouldn't know it's history but it would have much fewer miles, would be more reliable and would be a 4-door or SUV that would accommodate both Cletus and the pooches. It may sound like a no-brainer but I can't help but hear my Dad's voice saying "…fixing these once is much cheaper then a car payment for the next three to five years plus you'll be paying more in registration, tabs and insurance…". He was a very wise financial man so his advice does carry some validity.
But are they practical anymore? Are they reliable? Are they efficient? Do they accommodate our growing family? How long until the next fix and then the next? What will have to happen before we say enough is enough? Obviously I'm still undecided and there are a few other factors I haven't mentioned that are still panning out but this is why I'm turning to you. What would you do?
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