Whatever

Is it wrong to mock your children?  If so, I have been a bad mother for quite some time.  In my house it is not uncommon for the boys to say my name like "mmmmooohhhhhmm" and for me to respond with their name in the same tone.  When I have had it with bad attitudes they are exhibiting I start answering their questions in the same manner. 

"Mom, when is dinner?"  

"Whatever." 

"No, Mom, what is for dinner?"  

"Whatever."  

"Mom, come on, what are we having for dinner."  

"Why do you have to ask me so many questions?  I can't think....."

A few weeks ago, I got so frustrated at feeding the children and having them act like dogs that get fed and come running to their dishes only to run away away again after scarfing down their food, I just didn't make dinner.  Not at all.  It was after 8:30 when my oldest son came out and asked about dinner.  My husband informed him that Mom wasn't making anything because she was tired of the way they expect to be fed and don't interact with me unless forced.  He looks at me.  The younger one stands by his side, eyes open wide..I unleashed.  Why do I have to go in their rooms to talk to them?  Why do I have to force conversations?  They hadn't been asking me anything or talking to me unless they wanted something.  After they get answers they disappear to their rooms to play on ipods, xbox, blah, blah.  Why should I cook dinner for someone who doesn't care back?  I wouldn't cook dinner for dad if he ignored me all the time.  Why are they different?  They had cereal that evening.  I got the response I wanted because now they make a point to come out of their caves (aka bedrooms) and at least say "hello" when I get home at night.

Occasionally, I go on strike to make a point.  Sometimes this affects my husband, sometimes not.  It can be the little things that I get tired of doing without others pitching in.  Laundry.  Dishes.  Grocery shopping.  Once they realize it, they pitch in and life returns to normal.  Should this even happen?  Do other mothers go through this?  I don't care who says parenting is wonderful.  It makes me want to drink.

Housekeeping = Stripping

Well, this is a first.  Craigslist has a post for housekeepers wearing lingerie.  It pays $15 an hour plus tips.  Hmmmmm.  Rather interesting since the other day there was a post for nude housekeepers that only paid $10 an hour.  It was quickly taken down.  It happened so fast that I didn't even get a screen shot of it.  Some prude must have reported it for inappropriate content.  I have know idea why they would....

Do you think nude or scantily clad housekeepers clean homes with stripper poles?  I was a stripper before but it only involved cleaning (see old post for explanation as I was not a "real" stripper, it was a job title).

I wonder if this is even legal.  Flathead County has some rather strict regulations on stripping, peep shows, nudity, blah, blah.  The City of Whitefish has even tighter restrictions.  I learned this when someone wanted to open a topless burger joint when I was a planner.  It didn't happen.

Life is a cabert!

Update 1-24-12: So this posting was on Craigslist tonight. Apparently the poster was rather upset that "fem-nazi sheep" had been reporting his post.  Tee-hee! (I wonder if he listens to Michael Savage or Rush Limbaugh since that is usually how they refer to women....)

Update 1-26-12: The last posted was deleted and another new one has appeared.  It is much nicer than the last one.  This poor guy must have consulted an attorney.

Web Technology and Parenting Rant

My skills are finally benefiting me.  This week we will launch a new website at work that I have created as an assignment.  I wish it could be super, duper rockin' with flash enabled gadgets and woozits all over but, alas, it will not.  We have a web hosting company that uses templates for promotional items that can be customized with your name, logo, etc.  The current templates look like web sites created in 1999 using simple html code only and no Javascript.  Luckily, the new launch is on a platform that is reminiscent of homestead.com.  It is more of a drag and drop and you can embed your own code in objects to circumvent their templates.  There is also CSS which allows a full overhaul from the basic setup.  I am rather excited since it should give the company an edge.  Finally, we will look like we know what we are doing.  My boss is stoked and has really been talking it up.  You would have thought I just invented the Internet if Al Gore hadn't done it first from they way he is describing it.

The web hosting company is impressed with what I was able to do with the basic membership and has asked if they can use our site as an example of what can be done with the site without purchasing the custom option.  Our representative even offered me a job if I want to move to California, which I don't.  Yes, I complain about the cold in Montana but there are way too many in SoCal for me to deal with on a daily basis.  I like quiet, sparse and predictable.  Plus, I am not the best at programming.  I just have a knack for figuring out what I want to do and only researching the aspects that are needed to do it.

On the home front this week it has all been about arguing.  My 10 year-old is practicing his mediation skills.  The arguing has all been about cleaning his bedroom.  It is not that bad.  It doesn't look like this:

And it wasn't even this bad:

Whatever the case, you would have thought it was a very difficult project due to the arguing and fits that were being had (and that was on both sides because I felt like Mommy Dearest was going to make a second coming due to my frustration level with the whole thing)

Now it is Sunday evening and the job is almost done.  Thank goodness.  I suppose I will get an 18 hour reprieve until he gets home from school tomorrow and has to pick it up again.....Parenting.  Blech!

PS.  Neither of the pictures posted above were taken of my home.  They were clipped from the internet.  I just felt the urge to clarify that.

Old MacDonald

Week god knows what of unemployment.  No end in sight. Frustration lurks at times.  Pessimism pops its ugly head then optimism reminds me that I am unemployed in the summer.  I drown my sorrow in sunshine therapy while wearing my favorite sun hat, hair in pig tails and my cut-off dickies overalls (I'm a country bumpkin like that) and start diggin' in the dirt.  I borrowed a rototiller to put in a REAL garden this summer.  Not just the usual plants in pots like at my other house.  Tomatoes galore.  Heirlooms and hybrids.  Hopefully none are those genetically modified zombies.....


Raccoons have taken over my yard.  I am figuring out ways to rid the property of 8, yes 8, annoying raccoons.  While the little ones look cute, they want to eat my children and I don't like that.  My husband said I should sell them (the raccoons, not my children).  I am going to make that my job in the next few days by posting an ad on Craigslist.  There is no season on raccoons in Montana, therefore, I shall post that raccoons are for sale, $50 a pop, u-trap--  then I shall be a game guide and add that to my resume.


Still house-keeping part time.  Getting used to sweating under my boobs and not being able to change my shirt since I am working that hard outside the home.  That is soooooo sick.  Never, ever thought I would have a job that made me sweat under my boobs.  I have to wear a special cleaning bra.  I can't believe that I admitted that.  Will probably erase that part of the post....

Meat Jell-o

Yesterday I worked my ass off!  That is figurative as I have a big butt already and it would take a long time to really work it off.  So anyway, I worked f'in hard! I spent the first half of my day cleaning as a real bona-fide housekeeper at a condominium time-share resort.  The units are rented out fully furnished for a week at a time (this is also where I had been stripping temporarily which I now know is a much easier job and more fun too).  The unit inhabitants only have one week to mess them up then a crew comes in and wipes, washes and polishes all the nooks and crannies to ready it for another round of Canadians or people from Texas (I know this because the units have the visitors name and hometown info on the room cards and most of them are Canooks or Texans).    I went into it thinking it wouldn't be so bad since my stripping experience was rather like a piece of cake.  Cleaning = not fun = people are pigs.  

After one week in a clean slate condo people manage to spill all sorts of crap in the fridge and apparently feel no need to wipe anything up.  In every fridge I cleaned there was the inevitable goo under the produce drawer.  I refer to the goo as meat jell-o as I think it is most likely hamburger, steak or chicken juice/blood that drips off the racks and puddles under the drawer.  Not only is it gross to look at it--the junk is also stinky and sticky and takes way too much elbow grease and time to rub out.  Blah!  Wipe it up people!  WTF!  You were there one week!  What does your home fridge look like?!?!?!?!?!  Also, when staying at a hotel/resort, please tell your children NOT to take the tube of toothpaste and squirt lines off it across the bathroom mirror.  Someone has to clean that.  Someone else also has to clean the pine needles off the couch cushions.  Why were there even that many pine needles on the couch cushion?  Did you take it to Glacier National Park on a hike and use it to sit on the trail when you were tired?  I am still perplexed by that one.  

My saving grace of the day was pairing with an OCD maid who had a penchant for bathrooms (thank God!  I shall refer you back to my earlier postings about hairy toilets...) and wearing my red Dansko clogs (I love you Dansko.  You make my feet happy).  I did the front half which is the kitchen and living areas.  Wipe and dust EVERYTHING.  Clean EVERYTHING.  Polish EVERYTHING (even the pots and pans).  By EVERYTHING I mean each frickin surface you can see and can't see.  Much like cleaning an apartment or house for a new tenant--that kind of clean--except it is fully furnished and decorated with pictures on the wall that need dusted and the glass cleaned and silverware to boot.  Kicked my ass!  It was quite a work-out too.  So if you look at the bright side--which I do as I am usually an optimist--I got paid to work-out yesterday.  Woot!  Woot!  I will just keep telling myself that the cleaning gig is like that exercise boot-camp that chicks pay craploads of money to attend only I get paid to attend.  Next, I shall trick others into coming with me and start my own cleaning agency/boot camp and not only will I get paid by those I am cleaning for, I shall get paid by the rich bitches that are too stupid to realize that they are paying me for the opportunity to clean someone's house.  Oh yeah.. Now that is a plan.  I shall work on putting that into action....(I didn't realize I could become an entrepreneur until I typed that..I am so onto something here) 

In Which I Get a Job

Ok.  So it is not really a long term job however I did so well working temporarily as a stripper I have been asked to be a housekeeper.  Woopee!  This too shall be temporary and on Fridays but at least it is a little bit of income.  Plus, someone likes me and feels that I am employable unlike a bazillion and a half others (Wal-mart...).  The head of housekeeping said she missed me terribly on Friday and the new girl is not so good.  Yay me! So now I shall be cleaning and not stripping.  It is a step up and offers more pay. Now I can afford a new pair of sandals for summer and some new resume paper.  I am running out.....


In other news, a recent study shows that most professionals are unemployed after lay-offs for an average of eight months.  This means, on average, I should find a new job in about two months.  I will be ready then.  I will also be tanned and fit.  I love summer...What better time to be unemployed than when you can go outside without a parka or an umbrella.

Just Whistle While You Work

Looking for a job is like waiting for my floor to dry after using Orange-glo. I enjoy the after effects of Orange-glo--the shininess of the floor reflecting the sunlight from the windows and the pleasant fake orange smell that lingers for a day or so. It is the waiting for it to be done part that drives me crazy. Inevitably I find myself in some desperate need to re-enter the kitchen early to retrieve something that I forget. If I give in, it is all for not and I must redo the floor within a few days. Blah! If I just sit and wait and let it cure then I can enjoy my handwork.


When I get antsy to apply for a job that pops up and hastily prepare my letter of application and materials, I can include some stupid mistake that could have been prevented if I would have just let it follow the usual course and took my time. That typo or omission is like the footprint I leave in the not-yet-dry-still-tacky orange-glo: it is there for all to see. Not only do I have to redo the floor but the errors in applications drag this waiting process onwards.


I have thought about hiring a maid since housework sucks. I can afford one right after I can afford a resume service to market my resume which will land me a new job. Until then, a little bit of elbow grease, plenty of orange-glo and a lot of waiting is the way to go.

Gottcha Where I Wantcha....

On Friday, while working at my condo-stripping job I was reminded of a series of horribly stupid, long-winded jokes that we used to tell as children.  Maybe you remember them.  The jokes all center around people staying in a hotel and checking out early based on scary voices they hear chanting mantras such as "Gottcha Where I Wantcha, Now I'm Gonna Eatcha," or "When the log rolls over we will die, we will die."  Usually a brave person tracks down the source which ends up to be an old women in a closet holding a bloody booger on her finger or a bunch of talking flies sitting on a turd that was left in the toilet.  Not the best jokes but they were funny to a 7 year old.  The funniest part is why my temporary job on Fridays cleaning hotel rooms would remind me of fodder that is embedded in my mind from almost 30 years ago.  Any guesses as to why??  Honestly, the truth would make you barf.....No pictures associated with this post.  I am still too busy trying not to vomit little bits in my mouth in order to draw what I have witnessed.


Note to Self:  While staying at hotels or resort, be sure to bring ample kleenex and not to use the bed sheets as tissue paper especially while suffering from bloody sinus pressure.  *Barf*  Don't get me started on the toilets again....  

Stripping

In all my years I never once thought that I would ever utter the words "I have been working part-time as a stripper."  To clarify the aforementioned statement one should realize that by stripper I do not mean I have been baring my naked body while dancing on-stage to Def Leppard's "Pour Some Sugar On Me" and performing acrobatic stunts while attached to a stripper pole.  I am referring to stripper in the form of the action verb for a job which entails removing the sheets and towels from resort- or hotel rooms in order to prepare the room for the housekeeper to clean.  It is a good stripper--not a bad stripper.  

Unlike the other type of stripping where you are paid to remove your clothes, I am paid to remove toiletries, linen and foods left in the refrigerator--most likely from Canadians as they seem to be the only tourists still visiting this town with money.  I do not receive tips like the other kind of stripper either.  The tips that were left in the rooms go to the housekeepers who following my stripping the room of the nasties and unmentionables that guests leave behind.  I also get to restock the rooms with linens and towels to replace the ones that were used and change out toilet paper, paper towels, soaps, candles, dish washing tablets and other assorted niceties that one would expect in a fully furnished condominium unit that is rented weekly.

Luckily, I have not been stationed in the laundry room as I had expected.  That is good because I do not fold symmetrically very well.  In fact, I can't even draw a decently round circle (it usually looks more lopsided like almost an oval or a badly shaped cookie).   Assigning me as a stripper was a much more logical approach.  My initial feedback after my stint as a stripper on Fridays is that I am the best stripper they have ever trained.  I asked questions that no one had ever asked before and it made the head stripper pleased as I could understand the logic of why things were performed in a particular manner and therefore wouldn't make mistakes like other strippers.  I am still unsure of what mistakes others would make besides not being able to count.  It is a rather basic process to determine if you need flat and fitted sheets for twin and queen beds and how many replacement towels would be needed to restock a room.  There is even an inventory sheet that shows how many of each item are required to be in a room.  (Example:  A room requires 6 striped pool towels.  I count the towels that are still folded in closet.  There are 4 so I go to the supply van and retrieve 2 more towels to bring that number back to 6.  See.  Easy as pie.)  I suppose the compliment was also related to the foresight that we were low on pillow cases so I restocked the supply vehicle without being asked.  I was particularly pleased with the compliment about being the best stripper that had ever been trained.  I was also told that I learn quickly.  Yeah!  :)  That actually did make me feel happy inside.  The best part is since the head of housekeeping is a friend of ours she told my husband what an excellent stripper I am!  She also said this in front of others who may not have understood the context for which it was intended to be referenced and that made it all the better......

Being a stripper has also taught me that from now on whenever I stay at a hotel, I shall ALWAYS leave my towels and washrags in the bathtub so the housekeeper or stripper doesn't have to walk all over looking for them.  I will remove the sheets and pillow cases from the beds and place those in a pile that is also easily accessible.  Finally, I shall verify that all toilets are flushed and that I haven't left pubic hairs all over the rim of the toilet like I shaved standing over it.  YUCK!!!!  (I am very serious about that last sentence.  There were 3 units where the toilet rim had more hair than a 20 year old man.  Frickin' disgusting.  Who would do that?  What is wrong with them anyway and is genital hair loss really an actual reality or are these sickos actually shaving their junk over the toilet?)