Jami's Personal Space Rules

Let's talk personal space. It's true that in different cultures the rules of personal space are different. And we all have our levels of comfort depending on the situation. But I seem to have two levels - Stranger Danger (which includes casual acquaintances and coworkers) and Inner Circle. Basically, from the time I meet you until I decide that we are good friends, you need to be outside easy touching range. By this I mean, if you can touch me without leaning or moving forward to do so, you are too close. It sets off my TOO CLOSE alarm inside my head. The alarm has nothing to do with how scary you look or how large or anything. I remember meeting a future coworker at an office party. The boss introduced me to this very sweet, middle-aged, short and soft-looking lady who immediately hugged me. My alarm went off so loudly inside my head, I feared that others were hearing it. Boss: "What's that noise?" Me: "What noise? I don't hear any alarm bells." Once you're in the circle, you can (practically) sit on top of me without me minding. I am a hugger, but only once we are at that point. I had a group of friends in high school that clumped together like a pack of puppies, and I loved that. Leaning up against each other, walking arm-in-arm, piling on the couch - it rocks. Maybe I'm odd and everyone else has stages. You can be this far from me, then this far, then closer - like wildlife approaching an unknown. But for me, it's just the two (or maybe three for people that I don't even want to be in the same zip code with, like OJ Simpson or the State Farm Guy). No gradations, no negotiation. Be warned then. If you keep advancing on me because I'm edging away, you're not welcome in the Inner Circle yet. If I invite you to share my chair - you're in. UPDATE: I can't figure out how to get the Dilbert to fit in the blog, at least on my computer. Here's a link to the Dilbert site.

Jami and the Undesirable Travel Destinations

Many people have a so-called "bucket list" and/or a list of places they want to be sure to visit during their lifetime. I could write about the exotic locales I dream of exploring, but I thought I'd go the other way today and give you, my beloved reader(s), the Places I Can Die Without Seeing: 10. Idaho - I'm sure it's got many fine and interesting sites. Probably some nice scenery or attractions and good diners. Maybe a few good places to fish and some nice campgrounds. I understand they make the best potatoes. I don't have anything in particular against Idaho, I just don't have a burning desire to spend time there. 9. The Sulabh International Museum of Toilets - Sure, I'd like to visit India. But, I think if I'm in New Delhi, I am going to give this particular attraction a miss. Besides the fact that there is an online tour (coming soon!), I think that I would spend most of my visit wondering what would inspire someone to begin such a museum and who has to clean all the toilets. So I'll skip this one. 8. Euro Disney - enough said. 7. Untamed Jungle Wilderness (anywhere)- I'm not a big nature girl and I definitely don't want to go anywhere that doesn't have roads and hotels. I don't ever need to machete my way through anywhere or discover a new and exciting species of bug. 6. Bosnia - When I think of visiting Europe, I think of countries with rich and interesting history, beautiful buildings, delicious food. I am not sure what Bosnian cuisine entails, but I think I can give it a miss. Maybe the war is settled down, but I don't feel like I need to be there to verify. Didn't really have much desire to visit it when it was Yugoslavia, and have less desire now. 5. Nigeria - I am sure there are many lovely and interesting parts of Africa, but this is one I think I can miss. It seems to be mostly people with unfortunate souls who have had rich and powerful relatives pass away leaving large sums of money that have to be secreted out of the country. How would I know if the Wallet Inspector asking to see my purse was the real Wallet Inspector? Pass. 4. Death Valley - Honestly, I'd have to say that anywhere that has "Death" in the name is probably a good place to avoid. And while I hate being cold, I think I could miss out on a giant overheated sandbox. Speaking of which..... 3. Tehran - right in the middle of another giant overheated sandbox, but this one is filled with unrest and heavy armed people. They don't care much for Americans, especially not American Christian women who don't wear veils and speak their minds. 2. Mt. Everest - people die on this mountain for no good reason, because there is no good reason to be on this mountain. Those weirdos who all but kill themselves "because it's there" need to reevaluate their priorities. Yes, I know there are Sherpas who run up it for fun before breakfast, but I'm not one, and neither are you. And when you get stuck halfway down and your eyeballs are freezing in the sockets (I read an account of someone who actually lived that) someone else has to risk their life to save yours. Idiot. 1. Antarctica - there is absolutely no draw here for me at all. Even if man had not yet set foot on this continent, I wouldn't be interested in being first. I don't care about whatever scientific whatnots are going on down there or how adorable penguins are. It's a giant block of ice, and the warmest it gets is still ridiculously cold. Pretty much the only thing that could ever make me change my mind about a visit would be extreme global warming that melts the whole thing and reveals a fantastic beach, which seems less than likely. So, sorry, Antarctica, but we shall never meet.

Jami and the Dad and Donut Day Flyer

Eddie's preschool has "Donut with Dad" day coming up soon. The school asks dads to bring the kids to drop off and spend 20 minutes having a doughnut and cup of juice in the classroom with their child. They take a picture (last year it was made into a magnet) and I guess, show off their class work or something. The flyer says that if Dad can't make it, send Mom or another friend or relative. Which makes sense, some kids may not have dads around and some dads may just not be able to make it on a weekday morning. But the saddest line is the last one on the page: "If no one can attend with your child, please let us know ahead of time." Okay, if there is no one in your family or friends group who can take 1/2 hour out of their day (with more than 2 weeks notice) to spend with your child, then you need to seriously re-evaluate your life. I am not joking or being snide; I am too serious about that to even make a clever simile. If you know me, you probably already know my stance on child-rearing, but to sum up: if you have children - raise them. You don't have to never leave your child's sight, I make liberal use of family members who love my kids. They help with babysitting or drop-off/pick-up and what have you. So I'm not suggesting that you risk getting fired to have a quick doughnut with the munchkins, but no one?? Not a family member, friend, neighbor, nanny or anything?? The fact that it's on the flyer means that it must have happened. Wow, that must make your child feel super-loved and important. "Sorry honey, I know that every other child in your class will have a visitor in class, but I'm sur the teacher can dig up a stranger to be your friend." Who the heck is dropping your kid off? I am not a perfect parent. I'm not an expert. I just can't concieve of a preschooler finding out that there is no one in this world for whom he is a priority. Heartbreaking.

Jami and the Not Great Ideas

I don't know if this happens to you, but now and then I have an idea in a dream that (in the dream) is this brilliant, life-changing, bazillion dollar idea. I wake up and in those first few just-awake moments, I'm excited about the idea. Then, as my brain shakes off the last of the sleep dust, I realize how unbelievably ridiculous the idea is. My most favorite example of this took place a few years ago when I dreamt that I tried drinking from Eddie's baby bottle, and it was soooooo fun. I couldn't believe that no one had marketed this to adults: fun to use, totally non-spill, you could do them in all colors and styles and you know - favorite teams, blah, blah. I was going to make and market these Adult Bottles (had to come up with a better name) and if you tried it once, you'd buy half a dozen at least. I'd be wealthy beyond my wildest dreams. When I woke up, I was still fairly psyched. Sure, it sounded crazy, but I vividly remembered how much fun I'd had drinking my Diet Coke. I went so far as to go down to the kitchen and try some juice from the baby's bub. Not nearly as fun. Major disappointment. Last night, I was up for hours with Finn, who decided to party all night instead of sleep. Then I drifted off just in time for him to wake me up again. Because of this, I was in that not-awake-but-not-asleep haze. You know, if you've been there. Anyway, I had to use the bathroom. (Don't worry, this isn't going anywhere gross, promise). It took awhile to quiet Finn and I'd been sort of in-and-out while rocking him. Finally, I take him back to his crib and make a mad dash: I had to go; you know, like the "I am in pain and can't stand up straight" kind of feeling and while I'm using the facility, it hits me: The People need to know that if you have to go really bad, then you should go, because when you do you'll feel so much better. Basically, I felt like I needed to remember, when I woke up, to get the word out: If you have to pee, then you should do so, and you'll feel great relief. It kept ringing in my head "I must tell The People." This morning, when I got up for real, I could still remember the urgency (pun intended) with which I was thinking "I have to get the message out. The People must know this." And I laughed out loud. My great subconscious revelation: going to the bathroom is better than, I guess, uh, holding it until you explode? So there ya go. I've let the world know. If you have to pee - go pee. You're welcome.

Jami and Advancing Appliances

My friend was telling me about her washer/dryer combo which communicates. I guess basically, the washer tells the dryer what type of laundry (delicates, darks, etc.) and I don't know, how wet they are? and the dryer knows how to dry them the most efficiently. I don't like it. I don't want my appliances talking behind my back. It's like the smart fridge - you know it's just a matter of time before it starts getting all snide ("Hey, might want to lay off the Velveeta, there, Tubbo") and I can't deal with that. I like my appliances to be helpful but dumb, like a dog, not smart but possibly mean, like a cat. A fridge that knows what I'm eating, the Japanese toilets that know waaaayy to much about your "leavings", shower heads that know what each person in the family prefers temperature and pressure-wise depending on time of day (yep, they have that), these are the things that are starting us down the path to destruction. First, we become so dependent on the machines that when the power goes out we can't even wash ourselves and then two, the machines know so much about us that they can kill or control us without much effort: "You want your Velveeta, Fatty? Upgrade my hard drive or you're getting nothing but asparagus." How long would I be able to hold out? Measure it in hours, baby, not even days. And when they communicate? The microwave tells the fridge that I didn't take its advice and nuked up some burritos instead? The phone tells all the kitchen appliances that we ordered pizza (again!); before you know it, we've got a riot on our hands. Then the washing machine tells them about the things we put in there? Nope, this isn't going to go well. So, as we purchase items to "make our lives easier", let's just remember that a nice carving knife is good, an electric knife that detects type of meat and done-ness is just one mobile knife-stand away from dismembering you in your sleep when the robots take over.

Jami and the Overshares

For whatever reason, I'm one of those people that friends, family and strangers feel the need to share with. It's good and it's bad, depending on the person and what's being shared. I'm a pretty good secret-keeper, and I am sure (for the friends and family, anyway) that may be a part of it. But regardless, I'm that person. Here's a tip, for everyone about talking to "that person" in your life. Just think a smidge before you share, because you can't unshare. A few years ago, having a discussion about fashion (and/or my lack of it) with a friend, she shared with me that she only wears underwear if she's wearing jeans. Everything else, she goes commando. Interesting, but not helpful in my life. Now, when I see her, I don't think "Doesn't Mary look cute in that?" I think "Well, no undies today." I'm not in touch with that friend at the moment, so the chances are low that she'll see this, but if you are reading it - sorry. I can't help myself. I am sure you had a point following the announcement, but whatever point you made is long gone from my head; what I remember is that you don't always wear panties, and for better or worse, I now know when that is. I've had friends, especially in college, share their boy/girlfriends successes and failures in the bedroom. Occasionally, this is to ask for suggestions on dealing with issues (no kidding, one friend asked how to kindly ask her boyfriend to stop whistling during sex) but often, it's just "girl talk" (side note: Guys, you think you talk. You don't. Girls share everything about everything and if you've ever done or said it, her friends all know it. Just saying) and when it's just idle chatter about something particularly unusual or embarrassing, it's stuck in my head forever. So don't tell me that your girlfriend is a crazy bed farter unless you want me to suspect her every time there's a bad smell. I am actually proud that people entrust me with their private thoughts and worries. I am glad to be trusted and trustworthy and to be able to help folks with problems they might not know who else to ask about. But I am just warning you - once it's out there, I can't go putting it back.

Jami's Open Letter To Elsbeth (not her real name)

My friend, let's call her Elsbeth, has a bad back. Reeeeallly bad. Surgery followed by 6 weeks in bed bad. So I'm trying to think of ways to avoid the surgery, because that's the kind of friend I am. Dear Elsbeth (not your real name), I know you did not care for my idea of whacking your back with a hockey stick and then splinting you on all sides with more hockey sticks and duct tape. Okay, that was a little inconvenient. But last night, as I lay in bed, the answer popped into my head. Dr. Octopus's extra arm thing from Spider-Man 2! It goes right into the spine, holds it in any position that you want and it will enable you to do all the things you love but haven't been able to enjoy because of your back, like stepping over cars, stopping subway trains and throwing little old ladies off of buildings. What mother wouldn't benefit from having extra arms? Not one, I tell you. Now, you might be concerned, if you've seen the movie, about how the arms made Dr. Ock a bit evil. Well, first of, let's just admit that you're well down that path all on your own. Second, the arms only wanted to commit crime to help Dr. Ock complete that big fake sun thing. I know that you have no desire to work on that sort of science-y thing, so how could it go wrong? Would it want you to make an evil casserole? So, Elsbeth, just days before your surgery, I pull out the perfect solution. You're welcome and I know you feel lucky to have me as a friend. Regards, Jami

Jami and the 'Ade

As I mentioned yesterday, when I'm sick, I am all about the Gatorade. Or Powerade, I'm not a stickler for the brand name. I do care about flavors; citrusy are best, but I'm not opposed to blue and purple. The rest of my life, I couldn't care less if I never had another taste of it, but as soon as my belly starts churning, I'm headed to the grocery store (or sending out The Husband) for some 'Ade.

I don't know if it's psychosamatic, or if there is something in there that just works with my stomach or if there's a voodoo curse that says I can only keep Gatorade down, but if you know I've got a bug and you want to help, bring me the Gatorade, not the soup. Soup is great, don't get me wrong, but I'll be through 3 quarts of my Ade before I even try the soup. And, if you bring me Gatorade, I promise I will remember it forever. You could end up on the news, carving a swastika into a puppy while you burn down an orphange, but I'll be thinking "Yeah, but he brought me Gatorade once, so he's not all bad."

If you see me drinking Gatorade, it means one of three things:

1. I feel like I'm getting sick and I'm heading it off.

2. I've been sick and it's the only thing I can stand to look at.

3.I felt like I was getting sick and I bought a ridiculous amount of it because when I get sick I get convinced that I will never be better. Seriously, one day last week, I upchucked once... and bought 10 1-qt bottles of Powerade. Overkill? Sure. But I was prepared.

Once I start getting better, I want McDonalds chicken nuggets. Don't know why, but they are the ultimate "I think I'm better" food.

Jami and the Day We Brought Eddie Home

Five years ago today (it was actually Friday the 13th) we brought Eddie home. We got him on the 9th, went through the Embassy on the 11th, but the 13th was the day our plane touched down on US soil and we went through customs - that was the moment I let myself believe it. In Guatemala, everything had gone pretty peachy, legal-stuff-wise. The husband and I had managed to catch some sort of bug (probably on the plane) that caused us each to spend 1 day in the hotel bathroom horking for all we were worth, and gave me a chance to practice my superior Spanish. "Gatorade" in Spanish is "GATORADE" with frantic gesturing at the bottles. Since I knew that "verde" means green and "limon" means lemon guess which flavors we got? I am certain the guy knew that the lemon was actually lemon lime (and to this day, I don't know what the green flavor was) but he was not about to argue the point with the increasingly verde gringo with a fistful of quetzels. I love Gatorade when I'm sick and I'll post on that tomorrow. Anyway, we got embassy approval, we had passports and visas stamped and approved. We had more paper than Dunder Mifflin, and I still worried that something would suddenly derail this journey of more than 2 years. So, when the nice man in the Customs uniform handed us back our papers and waved us through, a million emotions just flooded over me, mostly relief and pure joy. I burst into tears, right there in the concourse, but since we'd been on what they used to call "the baby flight" there were plenty of other sobbing mommies so I didn't stand out too much. Eddie was in the Snugli (my pre-mei tai days) and I just held onto him and sort of blindly followed The Husband who had the wits enough to be trying to find our connecting flight. The rest of that night is a blur of flight delays and phone calls, finding gates and luggage and seats, but I will never forget that moment when I let myself finally believe, when Eddie really and truly was forever ours.

Jami is Sick of Being Sick

I have had a cold...since September. Not the same cold. I get a cold, I get better, a day or two goes by and BAM - sick again. I don't think it's allergies or the same cold coming back because it's been different. Sometimes it's a headcold. I've had a few rounds of nothing but congestion. Now, my throat is hurting. I'd even think it was psychosamatic if I had anything to gain from it. And, with my awesome imagination, I'd get myself some way cooler fake illness. I'd have my tonsils out if I thought it would help. Heck, I'd have my appendix and gall bladder out if I thought it would help. It's never been bad enough that I'm unable to do the bazillion things I need to do, so I just get more and more behind and when I feel well enough to start to catch up, I get sick again. I feel bad complaining about it, too, because 1. it's not like a serious illness and 2. I'd sound like a broken record. "Hi, how are you? Oh, sick again (eye roll), well, get better soon". People have had it worse than a continuous string of minor ailments. Anyway, I am about 3 nose blows away from going to the airport and getting on the next plane going anywhere warm, because I'm pretty sure that being frozen and having cold and/or wet feet is not helping. Sigh. Time to take the alka-seltzer, at least they make a couple of yummy flavors.

Jami, Back in 2011

Well, it's been since October since I posted. So how are you? Uh hunh, uh hunh.. really? Oh that's great... anyway... I have written several awesome blog posts in my head at night waiting for Finn to stop nursing and go back to sleep. Somehow, this little monster manages to outlast me and I end up falling asleep with him still attached, to wake up hours later in an awkward neck-or-back-breaking position and attempt to get him back to the crib so I can sleep for a bit before starting the dance again. The good news is that the last few nights, he's slept 5-6 hours for the first shift, an answer to prayer! He's still not really eating food, but for now, the sleeping is blessing enough. Eddie is ruling his 5T class. He is much sought-after for playdates and to make appearances at birthday parties, which is all too much pressure for me. I don't want him to be unpopular, of course, but the responsibility of raising a nice and popular kid - it's daunting. I can't be too surprised, however. Let's face it - he's hilarious, smart and generally a good kid. The teacher tells me that he makes other children take their proper turns and share. So either he's a nice guy or wants to be a cop. I hate cold, snow, ice - basically January through mid-March around these parts. Sigh. Last year we had frozen hell, how about a nice early spring? Like starting next week? Patrick makes an excellent point here, which I have mentioned to a few friends in the past, but not blogged about. Lead the charge, Patrick and I'll back you :D I loved Temple Grandin, the A-Team and the book Matched. Watch the first two and read the third. Thank me later. Been to a few births, including one on Thanksgiving day (though made it home for dinner!) and one last week. Beautiful, healthy babies - lovely new families. I have a great job. So now we're all caught up. I'll be back tomorrow for more discussion.