nighttime craziness

If I can’t have my glass of red wine at bedtime, I’m a very grumpy momma. Why? Well, right now as I’m typing this I have one kid in the shower singing “America the Beautiful” (and I’m sure she’s not getting clean) and another kid asking me which Lego piece looks best on his creation, and hubs is busy doing who-knows-what on his iPad. And I’m typing a blog post. And no one is trying really hard to get the kids in bed.

And when is bedtime in our house? 8:00pm.

When do we usually get the kids in bed? After 8:00pm. WAY after 8:00pm.

Maybe we should just stop the rouse and change the bedtime to 9:00pm. Then we’d feel a bit better about getting the kids to bed late. But then again, we’d feel bad about having such a late bedtime for our kids.


Maybe another sip of wine will help me!

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paperwork problems

So I didn’t really do all of the things I planned on doing while I was on medical leave, but that’s OK because I’m still on medical leave! ¬†Woohoo!

Wait – if I’m on medical leave and I work where I happen to work, then I have to use up all of my sick time and vacation time before I really and truly go on medical leave. I don’t want to do that! I want to go back to work and save my vacation and sick time for another time when I really need it!

Essentially, I’m on a medical vacation. Not just that – a vacation forced upon me by paperwork. For all the time that I’ve worked in higher ed, I’ve enjoyed many of the perks: more holidays, lax dress code, no threat of layoffs, etc. But now I’m discovering the dark side of higher ed: Human Resources. This is where we see government bureaucracy at its best. Where a phrase such as “light duty” on a return to work note from a doctor spurs a mess of paperwork and hassle because HR doesn’t understand what “light duty” is and thinks that it means I must not be able to perform my actual job. Because¬†my surgeon knows what my job actually entails, right?

Honestly, this has me so upset and frustrated that I had to yell and beat my hands on my desk for a bit today. My buddy Marty took that as a sign that I needed some doggie love and came over to gently put his paws on my lap and make me pet him. What a thoughtful boy! If only I could earn a living as a doggie hugger…