I am planning to do better by this blog this year. No, really. It’s my resolution, or part of one.  But, based on something I read on some blog a few years back (sorry no linkage-can’t remember who you are), I don’t really start my resolutions until February.
January is too hectic: putting away Christmas decorations, LB’s birthday, mr. jolt is always away at the beginning of January (often missing LB’s birthday, curse you AALS annual conference!) Tell me, how do all those, “I will only have one glass of wine each evening and I will get up early and do a half hour on the treadmill three mornings a week” resolutions supposed to work when one is doing the single parenting thing for a week. They don’t work, that’s what.
So, January is where I test things out so that come February I am ready, damn it, ready to roll.
No really.

Okay, sometimes by February I’ve decided my resolutions are crap, but I’m hoping not this year.
One: get back into writing (check, signed up for poetry course and just submitted poem about an hour ago, probably the first poem I’ve written in 10 years)
Two: get into shape, no really (check, um okay, no, not really, but movement is good)
Three: get organized: (check, um no, okay, well, my plan was to get as organized as possible in January so that in February I could concentrate on One and Two. Not going so well. I am surrounded by pack rats. I am being THWARTED.
Four: Do better with this blog. No, really. Since last year I wrote TWELVE posts (half of those in March) that shouldn’t be a hard post to pass.
Fingers crossed – wish me luck.


As some of my regulars (not that there is anything here regularly to regularly read of late) already know, the jolt family is moving. Rather than to some distant locale, we decided to say ‘fuck it’ to the perennially anxiety-inducing game of “will we make a lateral move to some other state this year” we’d been playing for the last six years and simply move to a better school district near here.   While we anticipated a six month to year long search for something “different”, we fell in love with the second place we looked at.  Which meant we’ve spent the last six weeks frantically prepping our current house to sell & putting it on the market.   My current house has never been this clean.  It helps that four-five nights of baseball and tball each week mean that we are never home to get it dirty. 

Upon seeing the new place, LB told me that when he gets married that mr. jolt and I will have to move because he plans to live there FOREVER.  Which I take as a vote of confidence.   He also said that he wants to make the speeches at the “grand opening”.  

Here is a snippet from the property – if you want more pictures, send me an email & I’ll send them to you.

I’ll probably continue to be a bad negligent  blogger for a few more weeks and then I should be able to post deep thoughts that I have drafted while looking at this view of the creek that runs behind the new place.  Have a great weekend everyone!

I have developed a reputation in my office as an intimidating militant feminist. This development makes me laugh because when I read my favorite feminist blogs and see the various efforts many make on a daily basis the concept that I am anything approaching militant or intimidating is absurd. What was the capstone in my qualifying to this elite cadre of scary ladies? I made a stink about the fact that only women were invited to a recent baby shower in our office and did not confine said stink to merely carping quietly to my peers.

Having cemented the reputation is kind of freeing, you know? They ain’t seen nothing yet.

For about the last, two weeks or so, I’ve had episodes of lightheadedness, ranging from mild to severe (about a week ago I literally wanted to lie down on the floor of my office my head was so woozy).  So I made an appointment with the doctor and unsurprisingly, they needed to run a bunch of tests before they can begin to figure out what the problem is* (not vertigo, I’ve had several friends with that & I don’t have spins, just woozy).  

So my doctor, who wasn’t going to be in for a few days immediately following the appointment earlier this week, told me to call in yesterday & get the results to see if anything was abnormal.  Most of the tests were normal (not pregnant – yippee!; no Lyme disease – yippee!).  The report came back that my blood sugar was abnormally low, but SO abnormally low they wanted me to do another blood draw because the number came up was not possible.  Technically, I should have been virtually COMATOSE at the level recorded and since I had, after all, driven to and from the appointment, they thought perhaps the test results were wrong.

So I had another blood draw this morning & I get to wait through the weekend for the results.  The phsyician’s assistant I spoke to when getting the results was, I have to say, rather blase’ about the whole thing.  Um, okay, you’re basically telling me its a miracle I’m upright, but we’ll retest & meanwhile go on with your bad self for a few days while we determine whether it was a lab problem with the last blood draw.

In the meantime, I figure it gives me carte blanche to lurch around all weekend with my arms out while moaning “I need chocolate.”  Gotta boost that blood sugar somehow.

* thank you decent health insurance.  I have become more & more aware of what a privilege this is over the last couple of years.

I have a decent job.  It’s not exciting, but the pay is decent, usually,* and it’s got good benefits.  But I have been bored, bored, bored.  So I’ve been poking around, not seriously, because a) massive unemployment out there already; and b) no good jobs in my area (most local employers have  hiring freeze).  So I poked around on the internet and saw a job posting.  It’s been up for a while, but it’s still up so I’m thinking the job may still be open.  It’s in an area of law that was an early and strong interest of mine in law school and would allow me to become, almost overnight, a virtual expert in the area, more so than I was when I was actively researching it, because I would be advising people on this one area of statutes/regulations.  The pay is much, much better than what I currently make.  The benefits – hell, its with the feds, so decent healthcare.

Problem: it’s in a city two hours away.  A city that while it could be interesting and mr. jolt could probably find a job in (there are mucho schools there), it would require a radical lifestyle shift that I’m not sure I want or can afford.  To live in that city the way I live here would require FAR more than the jump in salary I would get.  It would require mr. jolt to get a serious jump in salary, too.  A jump that frankly, isn’t realistic.  And it would require the boys to leave a phenomenal school that nurtures and challenges them.  It would require us to return to a type of life that was one of the reasons we came here.

I just can’t do it.  And it makes me crazy.  Because whenever I think about making a move somewhere the first thing that comes to mind is all the reasons why it wouldn’t work.  When the hell did I get so negative and inertia-filled?  When mr. jolt hears of an opportunity he immediately starts thinking about all the advantages, and is often completely blind to major deficiencies for a good period of time.  Part of that is confidence, I suppose.  Part of it, I think, is the difference between someone who has never had to question his place in the world and the need/desire for fulfilling work and his ability to obtain it.

It’s funny. When I started my current job and was amazed at the differences between it and my last job (bosses and clients who appreciate me -wow!; bosses who don’t play bipolar mind games with me – wow!) I had been out of work for six months.  My prior job eviscerated my self-confidence in several ways and the first few years here allowed me to build it back up.  Which was great.  But I’m realizing that I somehow stepped onto a side path and don’t know how to get off.  My job isn’t even that great for having kids (although its a lot better than private practice).

 I have never ever liked uncertainty (few do, I suppose).  But my fear of the unknown devil has always deterred me from taking sufficient steps to walk away from the devil I know. I stayed at my prior job well past the point that was healthy for me.  I think I may be entering a similar stage in my current job. But is it any coincidence that my desire for something new now has only grown the worse the economy has gotten and the less likely it’s become that I could actually achieve it? 

When we moved here it was on the assumption that we would be moving in several years to somewhere “even better” wherever that might be.  So I didn’t worry too much about my job because it was supposed to be short term.  But we’re here and it is a total crapshoot as to when we will ever “move on.”  And while I was marking time assuming we would soon move somewhere with better opportunities, the economy went south so even the opportunities here have disappeared.

In a way, I feel like I’m acting like LB.  Sometimes LB gets really upset when he doesn’t get what he wants.  We’ll tell him he has choices A or B.  He’ll tell us he doesn’t like those choices and that our choices are to let him do whatever it is he wants to do or he will [fill in inappropriate activity here].  And it sucks, being a kid, not liking the choices your parents have offered you.  It sucks, being an adult, not liking the choices before you and not knowing how to find new ones.  Sometimes, talking things through with LB (when he’s willing to listen) we figure out other choices or compromises.  I just wish I knew how to create or find better choices for myself.


*Usually.  Except I may not get paid in July.  But I still have to work in the hopes that they’ll get their shit together soon and make it up to me in August.

I got confirmation today that as a member of my office building’s evacuation  team, I get to take “fire extinguisher training”.  We get to practice using those ginormous fire extinguishers that the real firefighters use, putting out real fires (okay, it’s a fire in a barrel, but still).  I’ve seen these lessons when walking by and they look really fun.

I’m totally psyched and my kids will be totally jealous.  I will update later this week with my insider’s report on how a vertically-challenged attorney handles the “almost as big as me” extinguisher that is normally controlled by majorly buff big dudes.  My goal: to avoid burning off my eyebrows.  Another bonus: I think I get to wear jeans to work. 

Given the state of the world these days I will take these small excitements where I find them.

Despite my best efforts, BB is a tad acquisitive.  He’s always looking for ways  to accumulate more stuff and making lists of stuff he wants to get.  So, I wasn’t surprised when last night at bedtime he asked me to sit with him for a few minutes while he wrote up a wish list so that if he needed to know how something was spelled, he wouldn’t have to come and find me.


I was surprised to learn, however, that he was writing said wish list in the form of a letter to Santa.  For those of you not near a calendar I will confirm your sanity and state that, yes, it is March.  More than 9 months away from Christmas.  I firmly told BB that he was not permitted to mail the letter to Santa before November.  “Santa doesn’t read letters sent before November,” I explained.  BB was okay with this.


When I balked at sitting beside him for potential consult on a second letter to Santa, he asked me what I wanted.  Thinking about what I wanted at that particular instant I replied that I would like a day on a beach with a good book and someone to bring me drinks and that would require a good babysitter to keep an eye on BB and LB.


BB informed me that my request was too complicated for Santa because a beach couldn’t fit into the sleigh.  I retorted that Santa could simply send me plane tickets and reservations for an appropriate beach resort. 


BB continued, “Well, Santa can’t provide babysitters.”

jolt, “Why not?”

BB, “Besides daddy could stay with us, he probably wouldn’t want to go.”

jolt, “Oh, I think daddy would like a nice day on the beach.”

BB, “Nah,  that sounds like stuff for ladies.”

jolt, totally mystified, “What about beaches is only for ladies?”

BB, “You know, the man servant to bring you the drinks, if the servant is hot.”


I spluttered internally, Hot!?! Hot!?! How the heck does my kid know anything about hotness or people’s desire to gaze upon hotness and, holy cow what is going on in this kid’s head!


jolt, “Do you even know what hot means?”

BB, “Kinda cool, . . ., you know.”


And we dissolved into giggles.


There you have it folks.  Not only does BB now know what I want for Christmas, he thinks I’d prefer it without mr. jolt so that I may freely gaze upon male hotness without mr. jolt’s boredom/indifference to said hotness interfering with my day on the beach.  Oy. 


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