First off, I spent the entire week off work getting my voice back & getting back to health. But that's a story for another day. Quick review of X-Men III:

It's a big build-up with little satisfaction. It's the penile disfunction of movie-making. No depth, lots of noise and little payoff. I only wonder if [director of the first two movies] Singer is smirking or shuddering.

fri: sick sore throat hard to swallow hard to talk, stay home from work it'll be all right. brother in law savior takes kids to school, mother in law in burst of niceness brings them home.

sat: sick sad sore throat can't swallow hard to breathe omg stupid emerg doctor what do you MEAN wait 2 days for throat culture before meds?

sun: sicker sadder sorer can't swallow without crying fever fever pain can't breathe omg stupid emerg what do you MEAN wait 4 hours before getting a room? bless you bless you triage nurse for giving emerg nurse hell for calling kid with scratch on finger before me. no swab result back hurty houch please please don't make me open wide. omg tongue depressor choking me stop stop make it stop please. prescribe the happy little pills, yes my precious

mon: still sick hurts to breathe meds are in codeine ain't doing shit and i have to work tomorrow, hurrah. phone call from emerg made me laugh: why yes, mrs m, you have strep throat after all. we'll call in some meds for you. GEE THANKS CAN I GO BACK TO DYING NOW?

Baby if I act like that, that guy will call me back
What a paparazzi girl, I don't wanna be a stupid girl
Baby if I act like that, flipping my blonde hair back
Push up my bra like that, I don't wanna be a stupid girl

So C keeps singing this song except she muddles the lyrics, the only thing she hears clearly is "I don't wanna be a stupid girl". She asked me what the song was about and I told her it was about being yourself and not trying to be like all those famous people you see on tv and in the papers and magazines. She asked me if those girls really were stupid. I said most of them aren't, they just sometimes make really stupid choices.

Anyway. C's first communion went off very well, she was the only girl in a white dress & tiara though but that didn't bother her in the least, it made her feel even more like a princess to stand out among the other kids receiving it. We sat in the front row (curse of showing up early, she insisted on sitting there) and everyone who passed by remarked on how pretty she looked. Even the Deacon mentioned it and she was just gushing. She also totally bragged to K about how she gets to "eat Jesus" now and he doesn't. It was all I could do not to fall off my chair.

C's friend Z gets hers this Sunday. C really wants to go see her, but I really want to be able to sleep in on the only day that I can do it without feeling guilty about it. Hammer says I'm not beholden to it and I realize that but I'd also like to see Z, she's wearing traditional gear & C would feel better knowing she wasn't the only kid in her school to do it "the right way", as it's been so bluntly put to me.

Next week C turns 8. I cannot believe it and keep pinching myself and wondering where the time went. Her babyhood was a blur of diapers, midnight feedings, gurgling and drool, but I remember it still.

She and I had our little "facts of life" talk earlier than anticipated. Saturday afternoon an impromptu chat was initiated and I got out the books and showed her diagrams about what would be happening biologically, and then explained what could also be happening emotionally/mentally. She took it all in stride, asked questions and I answered them honestly and simply. Some were more complicated (Ok but really, how does the baby get in there?) some easier (So I won't get a baby from kissing a boy, right? Just that other way that only grown-ups do?), but in any case, it's opened the door for her and she knows she is safe to ask me questions and I'm not going to judge her or laugh at her about it. This sounds like I'm making a really big deal about it, but if you knew half of how I ended up learning about this crap (certainly not from my parents) and what kind of relationship I had with my own mother, maybe it would make more sense.

Both kids woke up at six and were kind enough to wait until 6:15 to wake me up too. Considering I've slept like hell all week it's a wonder I'm not crazy now. Been invited out this evening by some friends for a pre-mother's day drink but since SO's on afternoons it's really going to depend on whether or not I can get someone to watch the rugrats. I'm hoping yes. I haven't been out without some family member in tow in too long.

Off to toss together some sort of semblance of a lunch for the kids and make sure the meatballs I'm bringing in to work are ready. (It's a "food day", two of our senior officers are leaving. One is leaving on a 1 year contract within another department, the other is leaving for two months on paternity leave as his wife has to go back to work earlier than expected).

What frightens you most?

What's the point in having a baby at 63? Honestly now.

Those of you who have been following my journal for some time will know all about the trials and tribulations I went through at my previous place of employ. This past weekend I got a little bit of a laugh when I discovered that they have really been struggling since my departure. Childish, maybe, but I don't care. I went through hell for that company and while it's mean-spirited to say it, I'm glad they are finding out the hard way just how much I did for them.

So my Dad told me on the weekend that there was a manager's meeting at my previous workplace, wherein they were discussing the impact of the mass lay-off last August (of which I was the first to go). They had flow charts and whatnot. Anyway. One manager, the manager of production control in the building I worked in, said that he had one thing to say and that was that one person he really admired was me! He said they had no idea how much I did and that they all took me for granted and if they'd had half a clue they would never have let me go. He said it took him 6 hrs over the weekend to do one customs document, that two plants now do their own work and a third on its way - and there I was handling the customs for all their Canadian operations, on top of answering switchboard and handling the front desk!

Dad didn't say anything but later he quietly took the manager out & treated him to a pitcher or two of beer. He also talked to my previous boss (the nice one) and said "you really had no fucking clue did you?" to which nice boss replied, abashed, that no, he obviously didn't. So Dad said "you mean to tell me you did employee reviews with her, and as she was telling you everything you had NO FUCKING CLUE? You guys are idiots." He can tell nice boss that because they're friends. Nice boss honestly has never been able to look me in the eye every time we've crossed paths since the layoff. In all honesty I have told him it's the best thing he could have done for me. The job was quite literally slowly killing me. In any case nice boss then asked Dad if I'd found a new job yet, hint hint, and Dad laid it on thick and told him all about my new job and that I was making twice as much money (lie) and had all kinds of benefits (lie) and had awesome hours (true) and never had to worry about babysitting (semi-truth) and was happier than ever (true).

He wasn't going to tell me all this, because bygones are bygones and all, but I'm glad he did because it shuts a little door in my heart and gives me closure. He asked me if I'd have accepted had they offered me my job back, and I told him I would not, not even for a 100,000.00 salary. When I told SO about all this, he also said "I'd never have let you taken the job, hon. I like having the old you back."

C's first communion is on Sunday, and she couldn't be more excited about it. It feels so weird to me knowing my daughter is already at that age (she's turning 8 on the 16th! eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee). She has a little tiara and everything. I thought it hilarious when they had a parents meeting about communion and the priest said "don't dress them up, that isn't necessary, bla bla bla". Fat chance of that happening. We're Portuguese! Anyway...

Memo to self: make 2 doz cupcakes for weekend's 50th anniversary party for the kids' school. Bring in tomorrow morning.

Had a council meeting on Tuesday, which was fine but holy was there squawking about the budget! I don't really want to get into it aside from saying, I'm doing a volunteer position and if anyone thinks they can do better of it, they are welcome to it. Fuck.

Ok gotta go.