tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-73226522011-04-21T15:48:15.114-07:00Not a Journal and Not a Blog, just the Ravings of a Corporate MommyElizabethnoreply@blogger.comBlogger1021100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1096734165669834572005-05-02T09:22:00.000-07:002006-01-02T10:08:28.906-08:00

Dear Blogger, It's been joy, it's been fun. it's been a season in the sun. You made Corporate Mommy possible. I'll never forget you, man. Love, Elizabeth Join Corporate Mommy at our NEW HOME!!

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1095645915507007972004-09-19T19:05:00.000-07:002004-09-22T00:33:09.950-07:00

UPDATED 9/21 - :Another new post. The sun has set not long ago, now everyone goes down below... Or, to Munuviana, as the case may be. (With thanks to Sandra Boynton) See what picture won the contest!* Enjoy a photopost of the perfect day in Chicago! Read CD and I's love story! All this and more can be found on the new CorporateMommy site (still under construction) at: Corporate

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1095446619777672172004-09-17T11:26:00.000-07:002004-09-17T13:34:12.436-07:00

So... it was a dark and stormy night- errr, morning. OK, it was actually bright and cool. Work with me here. I was in my office working, door shut. CD was at his computer. He was about to head out for the day so our babysitter of 3+ years, Elia, was over and taking care of Bear. CD's cell phone rang. It was Elia. On HER cell phone. CD: "Hello??" Elia: "Hello, CD? Could you come open the

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1095184342507915112004-09-14T11:52:00.000-07:002004-09-14T11:21:18.276-07:00

Picture courtesy of Logic & Sanity I have been haunted by the Breslan tragedy. I haven't been sleeping well. I have been hugging and snuggling my son within an inch of his life. I have set up a little workstation in my office and I've been having him "work" next to me when CD is doing other things. I don't care what that does to my job. I am becoming even more overprotective, and I'm

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1095108534234956092004-09-13T13:50:00.000-07:002004-09-13T14:36:29.406-07:00

The "MASTHEAD" voting continues! Please weigh in! Influence the new look of Corporate Mommy! There will be Prizes! Gratitude! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Jay, over at Zero Boss has this wonderful contest every month. This month the Blogging for Books topic was Changes and unfortunately I didn't get my post up in time. It's been a busy 2 weeks (drove 1250 miles, Bear's birthday, CD's

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1094834729284840702004-09-12T16:45:00.000-07:002004-09-13T06:47:34.230-07:00

9/12/2004 - BIG NEWS!! ANNA (wonderful Anna) has done an amazing job of making me a mu.nu site based on the prohibitive favorite - Masthead #1. Check it out! Because of your feedback, I've added TWO new tries at a masthead. This is the extent of my Photoshop skills. If you have ideas on how to do better - PLEASE email me and let me know. Once a masthead is chosen and the site is up - I am

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1095099106344607102004-09-11T11:11:00.000-07:002004-09-13T11:56:09.146-07:00

CD's birthday was 9/11 CD, eating Ice Cream on Old Orchard strip by the pier CD and Bear, headed up to the beachThis site will be porting over to mu.nu this week, so I thought I would take the opportunity to finally post some CD pictures while this site was still active and vent a little pride.There's no one in the world I'd rather be sharing this adventure with. You know what I mean?

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1094778806267314202004-09-09T18:09:00.000-07:002004-09-09T18:22:45.040-07:00

1) Find Anna's email address, take her up on her offer 2) Migrate to the New site if it's the last thing I do. In fact, (holding up right hand, typing with left... ) "I solemnly swear that I will not reach 100 posts in Blogger. I WILL get off this limiting host... I will enjoy the freedom and community that is Munuviana, I will..." (ooh, left hand hurts..!) 3) I will create/steal/beg for a

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1094775638487893922004-09-09T17:18:00.000-07:002004-09-09T18:02:11.206-07:00

Until the deadline of Jay's most recent Blogging for Books!

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1094755599373291242004-09-09T11:46:00.000-07:002004-09-10T09:59:01.483-07:00

As you may know, I was - amazingly - allowed to join the hallowed ranks of Munuvia last month. In the meantime, we have had birthdays and 3000 miles on the van and all sorts of other distractions (most good, some not so much). Today at lunch, I sat down and rolled up my sleeves and said to myself - "Self? It's time to learn MT 2.x and get this website up and roaring" Here's the progress: -

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1094574888913895612004-09-07T09:34:00.000-07:002004-09-07T13:47:14.010-07:00

".... it was like having a giant thudding vibrator strapped to our heads. The only relief would come on the open upward stretches, when the van simply buzzed around us" This is the first installment of the how we came home - Boston to Pennsylvania, 580 miles. Massachusetts Start time: 6AM, Sunday Morning Route: Mass Pike - 134 miles Time: 5 hours 15 minutes Our alarms were set for

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1094523845009354142004-09-06T19:24:00.000-07:002004-09-07T11:18:13.756-07:00

This is the story we tell every year on this day. The picture (yes! a Bear picture!) is from his 3rd day of life. Once upon a time.... After 120 days of bedrest, we went in for a second Level 2 sonogram. 30 days earlier, we'd discovered you were a boy and that you were not thriving quite the way all those nice people in white coats would have liked. The same technician again, measuring

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1094147940510632222004-09-02T13:59:00.000-07:002004-09-02T14:38:47.830-07:00

Fenway Park, from Sect 18, Box 39, Row G, Seat 1 Game 67: Ana 7 - BoSox 12 (Yeah Baby), 09/01/2004 I once knew a guy, Kevin (Hi Kevin!), who was into baseball. We'd travel the tre-state area catching major and minor league games. Kevin taught me to score the games the traditional way; I ended up with a stack of programs and a collection of ittybitty pencils. One night, Kevin and I drove

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1093885356382167432004-08-31T11:02:00.000-07:002004-08-31T10:01:04.406-07:00

The Pier at Old Orchard Beach Beach, August 23 2004 Old Orchard Beach, Maine has a pier with carnival games and food stalls and fake tatoo parlours tucked on top of a rickety wooden pier. One night, CD and I walked out to the pier and back. All I could think about were the hours that I've spent over the years, alone. Watching the waves reach in from the ocean and feeling the salty wind

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1093931493896220082004-08-30T22:40:00.000-07:002004-08-30T22:51:33.896-07:00

This is my thin skin, and it has no defensive properties. Sunday night, and the family has gathered. My cousin and wife make the announcement - they are expecting. I feel a jolt of joy, of absolute bliss for them. They are a happy partnership of two extroverts; they will be blessed with a child next spring. They say: "It's early, we're only 6 weeks along. Most people don't know they are

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1093910862388047722004-08-30T17:07:00.000-07:002004-08-30T17:30:01.396-07:00

While I was on vacation, a wonderful metamorphasis began. It will take some time - but CorporateMommy is moving to Munuvia ! In a happy coincidence, while I was a wannabe Munuvian, my husband acquired corporatemommy.com and corporatemommy.net. So I have a lot of pointers and migrating to do. (I still have about 4 years of archives to bring over as well). Also? Need to learn MT. Advice is

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1093884384202244172004-08-30T09:46:00.000-07:002004-08-30T09:54:11.470-07:00

It took us about 30 hours to travel 1100 miles from Chicago to Boston’s south shore. That’s an average of 36.6 miles per hour. In reality, it was closer to 73.2 miles per hour and then an hour at a rest stop so Bear could release ya-ya’s. Never heard of ya-ya’s? Strap a preschooler into a 5-point harness in a minivan. Start driving. No matter how many DVD's, sing-alongs, sticker books or

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1093795465082064592004-08-29T08:52:00.000-07:002004-08-30T14:20:24.856-07:00

Well, we're back from our week on the beach in Maine: pink with sun, sandy between the toes, tummies full of delicious food, and never so grateful to be back in central air conditioning with hot and cold running appliances. It felt strange to journal for 9 days the old-fashioned way: without connectivity. Heh. Like being back at camp with my old diary with the fake gold clasp that never really

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1093102381958557392004-08-21T08:33:00.000-07:002004-08-21T08:33:01.956-07:00

Night Driving. Day 2. (08/20/2004)

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1093102258226696072004-08-21T08:30:00.001-07:002004-08-21T08:30:58.226-07:00

Sunset in the rearview mirror. Eastward bound. (08/19/2004)

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1093102243814896162004-08-21T08:30:00.000-07:002004-08-21T08:30:43.813-07:00

Sunset on the side (08/19/2004)

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1093102089355684082004-08-21T08:28:00.000-07:002004-08-21T08:28:09.356-07:00

We left on Thursday in late afternoon. First stop, the prettiest rest area you have ever seen. I mean it. You Indianans do roadside stops like NO ONE's business. Take a bow. (08/18/2004)

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1092804472699408322004-08-19T05:01:00.000-07:002004-08-30T14:26:29.816-07:00

ATTENTION, PLEASE: This post will remain at the top of the blog until I return from vacation around September 6, 2004.Following the tradition of the sparrows to Capistrano - CD, Bear, and I are ready for our annual trek to the hinterlands of New England. We are taking a laptop on our trip, so there's a chance there might be some free ranging access to Blogger. But just in case let's make a

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1092834267472582772004-08-19T04:53:00.000-07:002004-08-30T14:25:32.543-07:00

By the way - if I can't get into Blogger, then I will definitely post in my comments. Definitely. And there's some Bear stories (new! improved! better formula!) just below. Don't get me wrong, I dig Paul Mahoney. REALLY DIG Paul Mahoney. He'll stay up. (ahem) But if there's Bear stories to be told - well, a girl has to have priorities don't you think? Also? *BEEP* Oh, man, I'm already

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1092832738450802782004-08-17T05:34:00.000-07:002004-08-18T05:38:58.450-07:00

Bear crawled into bed with me pretty early this morning. I tried to convince him he was still tired, but he wasn't having it. He squirmed and poked and whispered. Resigned, I got up and went into to the bathroom and brushed my teeth and so on. When I got back, Bear had made a "nest" out of almost every pillow on our bed. And we have a lot of pillows. A veritable motherlode of pillows. And at

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1092727531416152632004-08-16T23:48:00.000-07:002004-08-17T00:27:31.166-07:00

Dear Paul Mahoney, I bet you're surprised to see your real name on the internet. True, I usually follow my own rat rule in these things, which can be summed up in the words "first, do no harm". The thing is, they are not releasing the name of the bus driver who abandoned the little girl on the side of a road. They released the name of the little girl, sure. Branded her a victim for life. No

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1092691400142598772004-08-16T14:23:00.000-07:002004-08-16T17:34:53.616-07:00

Christina's World by Andrew Wyeth Jay and Philip have written about the poor 5-year old girl who was left in the middle of nowhere because the bus driver was at the end of the route and kicked her off the bus. I showed the story to my husband, we held each other's hand, thought of our son and of that little girl and of all the little kids. We shivered in fear. We both felt all the things

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1092685733236143982004-08-16T12:23:00.000-07:002004-08-16T12:48:53.236-07:00

I am so fricking exhausted that I just sprinkled sugar on my noodles. Help.

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1092579852402463652004-08-15T07:24:00.000-07:002004-08-15T07:27:36.786-07:00

"Go play in the street, Bear."

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1092430343185256542004-08-13T14:02:00.000-07:002004-08-13T19:10:10.003-07:00

Without any ado, 5 who seriously brought the funny this week: Not Donna Reed at American Mom, in a post about a toddler using all the facilities bathroom at the same time. Excerpt: I giddily recalled how my husband's grandfather, who served in WWII, said that, if you're ever stuck in the desert, you can drink your own pee. I thought, If you can drink it, surely there's no need to freak out

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1092461064213759542004-08-13T13:16:00.000-07:002004-08-13T22:26:22.430-07:00

Well, I gotta stop googling during teleconferences. Especially on Friday the 13th. Because on top of everything else, I've discovered I'm not only a state, but I'm also in decline... WallStreet Journal Reporters were offered a new contract in April and responded by picketing the newspaper. The following is an excerpt (emphasis mine) of the full article here. Ask many Journal reporters

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1092410281023881802004-08-13T08:06:00.000-07:002004-08-13T08:24:36.703-07:00

My husband, CD, joined the Chicago At-Home Dads' group while he was a stay at home father. You can imagine their reaction to the recent diatribe from Ms. Seipps. With their permission, I am publishing a letter from one of their members, Dave L. Please feel free to email your support. Here's Dave's letter, in its entirety: Date: Wed, 11 Aug 2004 20:27:00 -0500 Cathy, While I am sure

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1092361271552249152004-08-12T18:36:00.000-07:002004-08-12T18:41:11.553-07:00

Honey? You don't sound so good. I've been stuck in rush hour traffic... Aww, Elizabeth, He commiserated For TWO HOURS! I moan. Did you know I was wearing two different earrings today? You left before I was up, he reminded me. Also? No more bare feet with these slides... I had to keep moving away from the guys in the meeting. The stink was heinous. They were beginning to take it

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1092283660949971182004-08-11T20:44:00.000-07:002004-08-11T21:07:40.950-07:00

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to reach the peak of mediocrity; to attain that loftiest of all goals in Corporate America? Well, just take this simple test to see if you, too, could be suited for life as a ... uh... suit. A. You wake up and realize you're already late. Do you: Do the minimum necessary to be presentable, and hit the roadDo the usual ablutions, and speed (safely)

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1092195078861954972004-08-10T20:31:00.000-07:002004-08-10T20:51:25.826-07:00

This was the lovely view we had upon arriving at Town Hall tonight. We were there to make sure that we got the permit approved for next Saturday's block party. Please don't ask me how CD and me and the Guys got roped into planning this thing AGAIN. Suffice to say that we live on a fabulous block full of fabulous people - none of whom could plan their way out of a paper bag. But hell on wheels if

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1092160197318119632004-08-10T10:42:00.000-07:002004-08-10T11:22:39.960-07:00

Hey, this one's PG-13 for language. You've been warned.************************************** I'm a hybrid. I was born to a McCain Republican and a Obama Democrat. Which is kind of like saying that my mom was an alligator but my dad was a crocodile. If that leaves you scratching your head and asking what the fuck's the difference? Yeah, I'm with you there. I like McCain. I like Obama. I'm a

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1092070315981334962004-08-08T22:51:00.000-07:002004-08-09T12:35:17.626-07:00

The blogisphere is full of some of the coolest people on the planet. And a couple of them have sent me some emails lately asking for a little more information about my "regular" life. I made attempts at this in emails back. Then I cam to the astounding conclusion (trumpet flare, please) that maybe this would be easier in a blog post. Duh. ****************************FRIDAY We have a

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1091996262269440602004-08-08T14:57:00.000-07:002004-08-08T16:31:03.926-07:00

You and I have memories longer than that road that stretches out ahead Two of us wearing raincoats standing solo in the sun You and me chasing paper getting nowhere on our way back home We're on our way back home We're on our way home We're going home Two Of Us from "Let it Be", 1970 The Beatles If you were to make the soundtrack of your life, what songs would you choose? What was the

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1092002085418375522004-08-08T14:51:00.000-07:002004-08-08T14:54:45.416-07:00

Mindy at the Mommy Blog is off on Lampoon's European Vacation and has, in a trusting experiment, opened her blog up to anyone who would like to guest blog. No Kidding.

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1091983813834290502004-08-08T09:48:00.000-07:002004-08-08T09:50:13.833-07:00

Coming out of the shower, there's Bear holding out a baby carrot. Here! Oh, thank you Bear. Yummy Yummy carrot. Where did you get it? From the Fridger-Eight-Err. Is it good? Yes, thanks. I made it hot. Uh, you did? How did you do that Bear? In the oven, silly. (Stop here. Panic. Look child up and down for radiation poisoning or burns. Peer at carrot frantically.) What

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1091914824298578972004-08-07T14:40:00.000-07:002004-08-07T14:40:57.640-07:00

10 days until we are on vacation and my toes will be in this sand....

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1091812584292297392004-08-06T11:46:00.000-07:002004-08-06T13:38:33.550-07:00

Look. It's like Lyle Lovett said in that song, or sang in that song. We've got to be honest, you and I. The relationship just won't work if we're not. So please, hold my hand, and tell me the truth. My little idea for last Friday fell with a "THUD" didn't it? You can tell me. Was it like that infamous lead balloon? But.. But... I blew my creative wad on Jay's Blogging contest. I'm DRY I tell

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1091778162413300142004-08-05T22:51:00.000-07:002004-08-06T13:33:28.596-07:00

Note: This is my entry for Jay Allen's cool Blogging for Books contest. The assigned topic: best or worst experience you've ever had working for someone else. I picked "all of the above". Jay has said that for this we should get our funny going. And I tried. But I have written, instead, what my husband is calling "A funeral hymn for a dream". I hope you forgive me. For a more light-hearted

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1091706884745692192004-08-05T04:42:00.000-07:002004-08-05T13:50:57.153-07:00

Well, it's official. My husband is the most understanding guy in the world. I called him from the car last night about 5 hours after I had thought I would be home. Hi, honey...? Where are you? On my way to a restaurant, I'm following the vendors over. What? You were supposed to be home at - ? Here's the thing. It was do or die today, so we just worked 8 hours straight. No food, no

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1091680605986016062004-08-04T21:16:00.000-07:002004-08-05T04:41:51.456-07:00

Bear's a strong candidate for attention span theater. One of his favorite speed topics is still his 3-year-old's fascination with genitalia. Last night there was a huge rainstorm. I was working late, preparing for a big meeting with a vendor today. I looked up and jumped, surprised to see Bear standing there silently. He was in his pullup and carried a blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1091588579375085992004-08-03T19:58:00.000-07:002004-08-03T20:02:59.376-07:00

Hey there. Hey, yourself. Where is the - ? Television. Well. So, Good morning... Is now. *splash* *splash* *slam!* Mommy?! Yes? Daddy?! Yes? Uh, what you doing MommyDaddy?! Taking a shower, Bear. TOGETHER?!

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1091404316769794162004-08-03T04:51:00.000-07:002004-08-03T08:06:35.226-07:00

Broke into the old apartment This is where we used to live Broken glass, broke and hungry Broken hearts and broken bones This is where we used to live - Barenaked Ladies This is my old apartment. Third floor (walkup) on the left. Drove past it the other day. Other than new windows, it is exactly the same. - This is where my other cat fell out of the window and died - This is

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1091469624266166462004-08-02T11:00:00.000-07:002004-08-02T11:05:44.426-07:00

Blame Kalisah . It's the bad 70's picture post here at Corporate Mommy. This is me and an uncle. My mom made the dress. Yes, MADE it. That just blows me away. I loved it so much that I wore for every special occasion for over 2 years. That makes dating the pictures a bit of a challenge, actually. Kalisah is MUCH cooler in her picture. Very "bad to the bone, Rebel Girl" Heh.

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1091459936038140402004-08-02T08:16:00.000-07:002004-08-03T20:18:08.973-07:00

I just got the strangest phone call. The caller ID said "John Paul II" Ok, even a lapsed Episcopalian pauses at THAT one. A voice said "Oh, sorry, you're the wrong number." *click* Gah. UPDATED on 8/3 TO ADD: Last night we had a group of my girlfriends over and I was telling them about the Pope calling. Because, let's face it - if the Pope crank called YOU wouldn't you bring it up

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1091453228981573882004-08-02T06:27:00.000-07:002004-08-02T11:18:49.236-07:00

In this post 9/11 world, government clearances have become more commonly required and harder to obtain for many jobs for or in partnership with the government. The GAO reports some of the FBI's progress in dealing with the now-infamous backlog this heightened demand has created. But, for those of us for whom it could ever be a possibility there is something more nerve-wracking than the

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1091404524145171722004-08-01T16:55:00.000-07:002004-08-01T16:58:04.313-07:00

If only my garden looked as good as the medians on Michigan Avenue :sigh: (Don't ask how much in tax dollars this cost, La La La La) (08/01/2004)

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1091348644136053402004-08-01T00:26:00.000-07:002004-08-02T06:18:23.273-07:00

Honey? What are you doing up? I just read this: Father drowns sons, self. Now I can't sleep. (Hugging me) Please don't cry. Come to bed... I'll just see it in my head. I'm going to listen to happy music for a while. Famously in the Blogiverse, a few weeks ago Getupgrrl wrote a post in response to an email that she got. Getupgrrl was being urged to help convince Dooce to continue

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1091256649150589912004-07-30T23:50:00.000-07:002004-07-31T00:26:04.880-07:00

It's an unspoken rule. Weekends are for pancakes and bacon, for the cuddle-tickle-squeal, for the hammer and nails adventures of being a family. It's just the three of us; we hang on tight. We try and turn off the computers, the books, the televisions, the things that put walls between us... We try and turn up the music, and dance. That said, it's late and Corporate Daddy is pulling an

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1091236605499814692004-07-30T18:10:00.000-07:002004-07-30T18:16:45.500-07:00

Bear and I were hip for a little "Mommy & Me" time today, so after his nap we hung out in my office and had a good ol' time playing with scissors and binder clips. He sang "No more work Mommy no more work Mommy" you know, until my ears bled. I happily made him pancakes and sausages for dinner and set a place for him in the "little room" (really a big hallway off the kitchen) with

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1091223196048329572004-07-30T15:33:00.000-07:002004-07-30T17:03:37.746-07:00

Remember the Friday Five? It went down in May, and I admit - I've missed it. Not only did it put a nice structure around the week's end but it was a cheery blast floating around looking at everyone's answers. I love me some structure. (Note: I'm clearly not the most original of women. In fact, I'm downright derivative. So someone else certainly must have come up with this idea first. If you

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1091142794914367922004-07-29T16:06:00.000-07:002004-07-29T16:13:14.920-07:00

Talking on my speakerphone this afternoon: J (My Vendor's Account Executive): Elizabeth, we can certainly have those reports for the meeting tomorrow. If you want the blah blah report, the data will be from Monday unless you want to wake up the guys in the UK to do another data dump for us... A knock sounds at my office door, as it simultaneously opens. Bear leaps to my side, hugging me.

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1091122591503096342004-07-29T10:36:00.000-07:002004-07-29T11:41:35.473-07:00

This morning, I was in the middle of my weekly smackdown from the grumpy VP when my doorbell rang. Luckily, someone else was on the hot seat for a moment so I ran and answered it. It was an older gentleman, his bicycle resting in my driveway. He was looking for Rev, my neighbor. Rev's in Michigan most of the time in the summer, so I couldn't help the guy. Him: I really need to talk to Rev

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1091067226487966352004-07-28T19:13:00.000-07:002004-07-28T22:31:35.273-07:00

My mom was with us at Memorial Day when we traveled to a parade in Elmhurst, IL (because we're parade connoisseurs). There was a contingent of Obama supporters (the "Barack Brigade") who were loud and noisy despite Obama's then rival, Ryan, being there in person. My mom leaned over, as Ryan was shaking all our hands (which was kind of a waste, considering  I am the only registered Illinois

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1091048599302482022004-07-28T14:03:00.000-07:002004-07-28T14:03:19.303-07:00

Wow, really? 

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1091045576591011192004-07-28T10:39:00.000-07:002004-07-28T13:28:52.723-07:00

Dream Mistress asked (in a COMMENT! Gimme a Wooo and a Hooo, people!) how I even found a job like the one at Mega corp. She probably meant it as a throwaway comment, bless her cool soul, but I'm all about the slobbering love and the instant gratification and the positive reinforcement. So here it is, in 10 easy steps: 1) Finish High School. Notice I didn't say "Graduate". Graduation is the

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1090988182014380802004-07-27T21:01:00.000-07:002004-07-27T21:16:22.013-07:00

Bear had malaise today. He's three freaking years old, he gets malaise. No, not sick. Just bored with summer. He misses the evil YMCA program. He's addicted to Digimon. It's a lot for a little boy to handle. He spent the late morning sitting on the couch, cuddled by Niñera, his babysitter. (And for the multilingual, yes, I just pseudonymed my Spanish babysitter with the Spanish word FOR

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1090957031071950112004-07-27T17:57:00.000-07:002004-07-28T06:41:52.016-07:00

The reality is - I'm a comment slut who's living on the thin. You'd think I'd be getting some with these fishnets and the little red garters and all that love I spread around like Johnny Appleseed... But, hey, I've decided to revel in my feedback any way I can get it. My new slogan is "Emails ROCK!" Thanks for taking the time. Please, let me slobber on you. Therefore I shall respond to

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1090881321773599352004-07-26T15:27:00.000-07:002004-07-26T17:30:13.286-07:00

It occurs to me that I haven't spent much time on the "corporate" or the "mommy" part of my life recently, so let me address that grievous situation. Recently my  kidlet, Bear, evidenced his deep and innate understanding of the Socratic method. He proved his skills by downing a 250lb firefighter in a single conversation. It was a proud moment. A couple of weekends ago, Bear and I went to

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1090863759457576862004-07-26T10:36:00.000-07:002004-07-26T14:41:55.626-07:00

Dear Blogger, There is something wrong. I do not know if it is just with the Douglas Bowman series of blog templates or if it is all templates that have a right-hand sidebar. What I DO know is that my sidebar has been missing all morning. I want it back. I have given my poor readers the spins trying to restore my sidebar. Here is what I have discovered in my revolving door of

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1090817971718932662004-07-25T21:57:00.000-07:002004-07-26T13:20:07.250-07:00

Warning: if you know me in real life please ask yourself if you really want to read this. This is a "Too Much Information" day at Corporate Mommy. Less brutal and still fresh: A cool shot of Sears Tower and another of Wacker drive and a little bit about Sunday . ****************************************** This week, Getupgrrl at Chez Miscarriage discovered that maybe being pregnant and

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1090797629357482282004-07-25T16:20:00.000-07:002004-07-27T12:17:37.006-07:00

I've been trying to get this picture for 20 years. Sears Tower, looking straight up from Wacker drive on our way back from the beach. And how did I fianlly do it? I just rested the camera on the dashboard and pressed the button as we drove past (and no, I wasn't driving.)   Copyright: Elizabeth (07/25/2004) Have I mentioned that we live in the Chicago area? We do. I moved into the city to

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1090772588047089042004-07-25T09:22:00.000-07:002004-07-25T16:17:20.190-07:00

My husband just said: Get off that damn computer! Well, actually that's what he meant. The conversation goes something more like this: He says: It's a 11:15 a.m. and a beautiful day, we should be outside. I say: We were just outside yesterday. We camped out. We toasted marshmallows. We worked on the pergola. And we need to get back out there. Have some fun with the Bear. Outside

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-109044648608802892004-07-21T14:48:00.000-07:002004-07-21T20:42:37.823-07:00

Husband and son  - I could just gobble them up (05/2004) Here's my husband's recipe for alleviating moron-induced head banging:   1. Call wife 2. Tell her how smart she is and how the rest of the world is just lucky to share her air 3. Whisper a few sweet nothings, maybe congratulating his own fine self on any and all recent prowess 4. Causing wife to blush and laugh and be

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1090444234150470032004-07-21T14:11:00.000-07:002004-07-21T20:44:27.006-07:00

1. Morons at work. My favorite flavor. Underling Project Manager: Elizabeth, I have a really big problem that needs your attention Me: (Lost in fantasy of Corporate Daddy and myself on a deserted island, with no kids, no clothes, and ...) Hmm? Snerkle-who? PM: Please help me. I have a really big problem. I have a major deployment this weekend and my equipment procurement was DENIED.

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1090364405336357842004-07-20T15:53:00.000-07:002004-07-20T16:08:54.146-07:00

They sold our mortgage in January.   Bastards.   To some piddling company that calls us CONSTANTLY. We got screwed when we refinanced (cuz we are clearly too stupid to be handling our own finances) and we got screwed again when they sold our mortgage.   The new company will call us every 30 minutes on the 11th day of the month. Their late fees are twice what the old company's were.

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1090332786944359182004-07-20T06:52:00.000-07:002004-07-20T10:40:56.913-07:00

I think I'm ready to talk about it. The week from hell, part 2:   Until last week, my summer childcare consisted of a very flexible work schedule and a preschool day camp at the YMCA, overlapped with the services of the babysitter we've used to varying degrees since Bear (my kidlet) was 8 months old.    So last Tuesday, Dee came over at lunch on a whim. Bear was at the camp, and she was

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1090258450206024182004-07-19T10:28:00.000-07:002004-07-20T11:10:38.423-07:00

You're not imagining things. I did something that I haven't done in years.... I redacted 3 blog entries. There were morose, maudlin, sentimental and even sad. But they didn't talk about why. I don't think I can do that, yet. Although there is a lot of it in Moons, Junes and ferris wheels. The only truly honest thoughts I have right now are these: 1) Thank God for summer interludes

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1090119454287742622004-07-17T19:41:00.000-07:002004-07-20T11:09:30.450-07:00

Well, you would of thought today would have sucked rocks but it turns out that the afternoon was actually the stuff of summer memories.   Bear, my kidlet, and I shucked the husband and teenaged house guest for a petting zoo set up as part of a fair at the local park. We saw baby sheep (aww) and baby goats (aww) and baby horsies (aww) and baby alligators (wtf?).  Yeah, turns out they let a

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1090094450531568852004-07-17T12:28:00.000-07:002004-07-20T11:09:50.816-07:00

The laundry list of thorns in my attitude paw:   1) It is currently cooler outside than it is inside. This is perverse to all natural laws of summer. How the HELL can this be? I am sweltering. Even with an air-conditioner and $4000 worth of new windows as well as several fans including one so powerful it will blow the enamel off your teeth. But I just stuck my face close to a window and

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1089906317674517162004-07-15T08:43:00.000-07:002004-07-15T14:24:22.913-07:00

Despite not having any childcare this morning, and working until 2AM on the presentation, I managed to pull off a really big meeting. Grumpy... complimented me. Shhhh. Just sit with me a moment. Feel the glow. Ahhhhhhhh

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1089871337752479272004-07-14T22:11:00.000-07:002004-07-15T11:52:58.776-07:00

My whole life, I've been writing. Usually badly. I wrote my first story at 9 years old. It was illustrated and bound with the finest staples in all the land. It was called "The 4 W's" about 4 friends all with - yes, you guessed it - "W" names. It was a mystery. (Curious? The 4th "W" was the guilty one.) I write because I have to, because the words will echo over and over again in my mind

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1089841490467767242004-07-14T20:44:00.000-07:002004-07-14T21:11:39.786-07:00

I'm not above the gatituitous go-here-see-something post. See? I'm NOT. The question of the day: Is it still called beastiality if it's cross-species or does a human have to be involved? Town kills 500 pigs for mating with dogs (Thanks,"Exploding Cigar")

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1089832001929139852004-07-14T12:06:00.000-07:002004-07-14T21:18:32.433-07:00

  I give my babysitter rides to and from my house. She's a 30 year-old Mexican woman who doesn't drive. She'd take a bus, if I wanted. But it's no big deal for me to chauffeur her around. I say bring it on. Tell me how to pander and I will pander like no one has pandered before. My brain is so freaking linear. Kidlet = most important responsibility and blessing life. Therefore those who

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1089747814166541302004-07-13T12:04:00.000-07:002004-07-13T17:07:35.153-07:00

I was dreaming about you in 1988. That's when you started to become real, when I knew in my heart that I would see you soon. You'd be the first of many; a loud, chaotic, affectionate bunch that I was in training to manage. Edie Brickell and the New Bohemians were singing "What I Am" on the radio as I made vanilla potpourri or some other homey craft and fantasized about non-alliterative

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1089677062578122722004-07-12T17:04:00.000-07:002004-07-13T11:43:34.176-07:00

Because you can't imagine what it's like to live with a Spidey geek... until your son becomes one, too. Oh, and to all the people out on Moody's patio last night who were innocently eating good burgers and minding their own business until my kidlet came racing up to their table and "webbed" them while shouting "I got YOU Goblin!"? ... Thank you for playing along and pretending to be

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1089599684504085662004-07-11T19:16:00.000-07:002004-07-12T15:10:32.090-07:00

I was pretty melancholy today. The thing that really got me was a neighbor's graduation party. "E" is off to the Marines in a few weeks and who knows after that. When we moved in here, this boy was so young. E was 15 and saving for a car. We were desperate for a break one of those first weekends and his mom sent E over to babysit. Time has passed in a blink of the eye. E's parents are only

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1089572500276444612004-07-11T12:01:00.000-07:002004-07-11T12:12:20.843-07:00

What IS a trash reciprocal? Does it mean that strangers get to come to my house and throw away their ice cream in my kitchen can? Does it mean some random Tuesday, the trash I put in there is going to come flying out of the sky and bean me on the head? What? WHAT?! (07/10/2004) 

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1089300729357394242004-07-08T08:04:00.000-07:002004-07-08T12:09:20.576-07:00

Never has there been a tale of more woe than that of Elizabeth and her expense accounts. Right now, my company Mega Corp owes me around $1200. Follow the bouncing ball: $700 for a recent business trip. $150 for last month's local phone. And around $350 in refunds from a pretax plan that I have for medical and childcare expenses. Before we get out our foam bats and start beating the crap out

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1089250321292618072004-07-07T18:30:00.000-07:002004-07-07T18:34:12.660-07:00

Go. Take the quiz. Discover yourself. Me: Wackiness: 34/100 Rationality: 50/100 Constructiveness: 50/100 Leadership: 50/100 You are an SEDF--Sober Emotional Destructive Follower. This makes you an evil genius. You are extremely focused and difficult to distract from your tasks. With luck, you have learned to channel your energies into improving your intellect, rather than destroying the

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1088770603852237192004-07-02T04:40:00.000-07:002004-07-02T15:03:47.336-07:00

I like music a lot. I like all kinds of music. I like Arethra, Lyle Lovett, Santana, Aerosmith, John Denver, the Beatles, Rosemary Clooney, Coldplay, Fleetwood Mac, Yo Yo Ma and a thousand names more. Music takes up half my hard drive. I burn CD's like some people brew coffee. I burned one last night for my husband and I to listen to over a backgammon game (heavy on the Macy Gray and Los

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1088767727011343962004-07-01T16:16:00.000-07:002004-07-02T10:24:44.906-07:00

Because it isn't enough that I spin my brain on a self-preservationist riff for a few days, I had to devolve into this whole right-to-privacy thing and my mind stalled at 30,000 feet. When I was in high school, there were these two guys. It could be said I dated one or both of them. Depends on your definition of dating. They were buddies and the subsequent chill ('cuz there HAD to be drama)

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1088521454479691372004-06-29T07:58:00.000-07:002004-06-29T08:05:24.213-07:00

You may ask yourself, what's up with the melon wearing sunglasses? Last night, as he's headed out to grill dinner, my husband looks at me and says "wow, you're brave." I furrow my brow. Crazy, bossy, loud, beautiful, brilliant... THOSE I've heard before. "Brave?" "Sure. What happens when Grumpy finds the website?" Beat. Beat. Thudda thudda thump.... Actual ICE WATER in my

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1088459019570955072004-06-28T14:05:00.000-07:002004-06-29T07:37:26.520-07:00

For reasons that have nothing to do with my hair (ahem), Friday's meeting still went awry. I had my 30 minutes in the hot seat where Grumpy (formerly el Capitain) grilled me like a tuna. But that was expected - a needed course correction, if you will. It was after the Vendor slides that Grumpy decided the Subject Matter Experts (SME) were not moving fast enough on packaging the value of the

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1088290515488508532004-06-26T15:12:00.000-07:002004-06-27T06:25:29.626-07:00

My husband struggles with my need for a higher level of house order and cleanliness than he considers "good enough". Bless him, he's a guy who once had to clean his room with a shovel. It's a foregone conclusion that we wouldn't share the same dirt threshold. No judgements here. I am a recovering room-shoveler myself. When life throws curve balls, housework is still the first thing to slip.

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1088193583035852742004-06-25T12:59:00.001-07:002004-07-19T10:50:08.403-07:00

There was a scramble and a hope yesterday that my hair would be professionally corrected before the "big" meeting this morning but it didn't happen. My friend C warned me that HER hairdresser warned her that using even a temporary brown rinse might, like, trash what was left of my hair follicles. So I did the only thing I could think of: I washed my hair. A lot. I washed it, kidlet washed it,

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1088129389401508562004-06-24T18:35:00.000-07:002004-06-24T19:27:30.816-07:00

I keep going back and forth about this whole golf thing. On the one hand, golf really is a secret language in Corporate America. And it IS a sport that I can play the rest of my life - and share with my family. On the other hand, can weeble-shaped adults actually learn to play the game? 'Cuz my breasts get in the way of my swing and the rest of me gets in the way of any hope of being GOOD at

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1087995726676134962004-06-23T06:02:00.000-07:002004-06-23T06:21:58.366-07:00

Last year, my neighbor opened what she hoped was an upscale salon about 5 blocks from our homes. It was a very New-York-Soho exposed brick and funky lighting kind of a place with pedicure stations and Marie-CLaire magazines and she was charging the prices to match. Unfortunately, her staff was regular Fantastic-Sam's kind of people and the whole thing put me off. I did get some fabulous

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1087913754075560612004-06-22T06:54:00.000-07:002004-06-23T07:28:02.936-07:00

The precise moment I am assigned a new program, I am already late. It goes like this - imagine a crowded room. Boss stands and says, "We are going to implement US$50 Million of new organizational software next year, and Elizabeth is going to make it happen." Beat. Beat. Beat. Pandemonium. "What's the schedule?" "Where's the process?" "Are you going to use the new Change Control?" "Do I

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1087787550651456412004-06-20T20:12:00.000-07:002004-06-20T20:11:34.773-07:00

Something NEVER.SEEN.BEFORE: Elizabeth, attempting golf. The workouts at Curves, the Crest White Strips, the manicures and highlights and the new jeans? All for me. Picking up a golf club for the first time in my memory and standing at an angle guaranteed to do me no favors and whacking at a little white ball like a lunatic with my chest in the way? All for my career. It's a sad day, let's have a

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1087762459938562372004-06-20T12:59:00.000-07:002004-06-28T12:25:57.963-07:00

Does anybody else find their obsessions as annoying as I find mine? Dawson's Creek, for Gawd's sake. Dawson's CREEK!! Pacey, with Joey (Dawson's Creek).  ------------------------------------------------- Joey: It's my mom's bracelet. Pacey: I know. Joey: (surprised) How do you know? Pacey: Well, because you told me. Six months ago. You were wearing that, uh, blue sweater, with the

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1087435856704883382004-06-16T18:01:00.000-07:002004-06-21T07:04:48.950-07:00

Being comfortable with my job comes only in lulls. Most of my professional life is still about proving myself and here I go again. I've been seconded to a new VP for a new program. I call him "El Capitain". To says he is brusque and high-handed would be like a New Englander's calling a hurricane "a bit of weather." Understated to the point of disingenuous. And we're pretty sure El Capitain

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1087362200409805332004-06-15T21:39:00.000-07:002004-06-15T22:05:32.466-07:00

Around the time I got pregnant, my blood pressure became a little unstable. Not violently high, but after I gave birth they put me on medication. The medication does two things - one, it acts like a water pill (keeping me from retaining water that would add to internal vascular pressure) and two, some other thing, which I'm not so clear on. Problem is, these pills are not consistent on my

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1087335399448500662004-06-15T14:02:00.000-07:002004-10-03T11:40:43.706-07:00

The afternoon plan was this: 1) pick up kidlet and babysitter 2) Stop at Town Hall and get permission slip for garage sale on Saturday 3) arrive home 4) make self a tomato sandwich (lightly buttered toast, fresh tomato slices, salt, pepper, and maybe some herbs or cheese crumbles if handy) and sweet tea (half herbal iced tea, half lemonade) and catch 30 minutes of my current guilty pleasure -

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1089926903992143702004-05-30T02:28:00.000-07:002004-08-09T21:57:45.736-07:00

Warning: if you know me in real life please ask yourself if you really want to read this.1. I was born white, female, American, blonde, and mostly heterosexual in the 60's 2. The rest of it is my fault 3. I have a son, an amazing creature who is looking to me and my husband to raise him 4. He may regret that, later 5. I met my husband in 1997. He was a fling 6. I laugh often so

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7322652.post-1092106843366382332000-01-14T19:56:00.000-08:002004-08-09T20:00:43.366-07:00

The shock was a good shock, but we were somber too. I had been spotting heavily a few days before and thought I'd had a light period. CD knew that. We were scared, and quiet. I called my friend M. on the cell phone during the morning commute. I told her what was going on and she urged me to call my doctor. So I did, but the the nurse on duty told me that my usual doctor was in the process of

Elizabethnoreply@blogger.com0