Adventures with Hodgkin's

I have catapulted into the 21st century, techno-culturally. I now have a Treo for a phone, and an iPod! The Treo I got because I was carrying my Palm Pilot and a phone into meetings, and I was mocked for this ancient technology, so I had to upgrade. It's the same phone Kevin has, which means I get great customer support!

When I went to get my Treo, the salesguy asked how much text messaging I did. I looked at him and said, "None. I'm almost 40 years old."

The iPod was a 'gift' from the company I was supposed to work for because I've referred two people to them that they have hired. I feel like a Luddite because I could not figure out how the iPod worked. I think I figured it out, but I still have to think about it--it'll be intuitive someday, I'm sure. Until then, I may end up holding it up to my mouth and yelling, "Turn down the volume, goddammit!"

It's late Friday afternoon, in that lull or quiet time where people actually get things done. I remember this time from before I had children. It's when you have no plans, and no real motivation to leave work because you are actually accomplishing something. The sense of satisfaction I used to receive from this has vanished. Now I'm just pissed off that I'm still sitting here, doing some arbitrary and meaningless task AND I'll have to go home during rush hour with the riff raff.

I had to call in sick to work today, or, more accurately, call in 'my kids are sick' to work today. One of the people I called responded with, "Boy, I'm glad I don't have kids".

Huh.

Many responses came to mind, but in light of my desire not to continue this line of conversation, I changed the subject. Maybe it's just me, but a day at home--even caring for a sick child--sure beats work! (And definitely beats being at work when you know your child is sick.) I'll admit, it takes a bit of adjustment to get out of the work mind-set--especially when you have something going on that day. It is impossible for me to go back to sleep when either Conor or Lucy exhibit some pre-sick symptoms in the middle of the night. I lie awake, fretting about not going to work the next day or sending a sick kid off to school or daycare, and it just sucks. But once I accept the staying at home, and fend off those evil work demons that make me feel guilty, I do try to enjoy it.

Kevin mostly gets it. He's stayed home with Lucy when she's been sick. But I don't think he understands the impact it has when you know that just getting to work is an accomplishment--that any day, with no warning, you can't go in. Or maybe he does understand that, but it doesn't bug him the way it bugs me and my ever-planning-ahead brain.

Panhandler asked for a "hundred dollar bill" today. Now this is a business model endorsed by a friend of mine, another consultant, but on a totally different scale. The principle is same--bigger wins mean not having to score so many little ones, if you factor out the increased cost of asking for bigger contracts. But that's where panhandler got it wrong. In the corporate world, there's not much difference between a $1000 gig and a $10,000 gig in terms of signing authority. But the difference between spare change and $100 is huge! Get into consulting, man!

Burning through our 15 minutes of fame

Kevin and his compatriot, Brett, onstage with the other winners. (Brett's the tall guy.) The conference was DEMO (http://www.demo.com/) and of the 70 companies presenting, 10 won awards. Pretty impressive, since it was a consumer-oriented show and they had enterprise software, too. You can see the video of whole demo they did, too, here: http://www.demo.com/demonstrators/demo2006/63019.html

I'm in Parenting magazine with some dubious parenting advice:
http://parenting.aol.com/parenting/onlyonaol/child/article/0,19840,1156314_5,00.html. There are some serious factual errors here--I mean, would I use the word 'flash' twice in the same sentece?--but the premise is the same. I use gum to get him home from school in a timely manner, candy to buy extra shopping time (we call them patience pills), chocolate to get him to eat his dinner.

And then there's my new work venture: http://chrisrichardson.net/aboutus.html. Chris is populating his website with those of us that would work for him when he gets the consulting jobs. Like the VP title?

Conor and I (and Lucy--yes the baby is watching TV) were watching our new favorite show tonight, Mythbusters. It was the chicken gun episode, and one segment was on "Killer Laundry". Now, I knew that Jamie lived in San Francisco from another episode, but in the "Killer Laundry" segment he was searching for dog pee in Dolores Park, getting a washing machine from Rancho Grande, and buying clothes at Thrift Town on Mission. (The Google maps image is ancient--I can see the 17 reasons sign!)

But then, thanks to the obsessive TV watching patterns that Tivo/Replay serve, I found that the first season of Mythbusters was filmed primarily in San Francisco. And if we lived a somewhere a bit more mundane, it'd be newsworthy. There are film festivals, after all, of films shot in (or supposedly located in) San Francisco, so it's not like it's that rare. But it was cool that even Conor noticed that THE Mythbusters were in our park! And what other show gives you the chance to discuss the difference between possible and plausible and scientific theory, all while watching chickens get shot out of a cannon?

I'm in the supermarket and can't help but notice the items of the woman in front of me. She's buying a small bag of Cheetos and a single slice of chocolate cake. If that doesn't say "evening home alone", I don't know what does. Of course, I'm buying milk & diapers, and if that doesn't say "another evening where I never get out", I don't know what does.

Lucy is a thumbsucker. And if I were a real blogger, I'd have a photo of her here, with her thumb in her mouth, finger hooked over her nose and her other hand reaching up and playing with her hair as she blisses out. So go with that visual. And the reaction to her thumbsucking is right in line with reactions to anything kid-related. Some amused by it, but many feel compelled to comment on it. My favorite was from a mom who told me the she forced pacifiers on her sons because she could take them away. And she wonders why her oldest son can't keep his hands off his penis. And then there's the guy who showed me his misshappen thumbnails, thanks to his 8 year thumbsucking habit.

But I think Lucy's thumbsucking is adorable, and very convenient. We were afraid to give Conor a pacifier for fear he'd become dependent on it. Man, we were new at this child-raising thing! Maybe a pacifier would have meant we didn't need to swaddle him supertight for months and months. Her thumb makes her happy, and that makes us a happy family. (But ask me again how I feel when she's going off to college with her thumb in her mouth.)

So this is what I wish on parents. May your child's thing not be your issue. Even better--may you find your child's thing amusing! If your child has speech issues, may you find lisps and mispronunciations cute. If your child throws fits, may you not give a rats ass what anyone in the grocery store thinks. If your child is aggressive, may you not immediately envision a lifetime of hearing, "But he was such a quiet man....".