It has been a mostly good week, maybe because Craig had a few days off and is starting his 2-week rotation onto the day shift tomorrow.  I’ve had a few days to work on stuff myself, without kids around, and have ONE! FULL! DAY! of being in the house by myself until I pick the kids up from school.  Whoa.

So, last week? Maybe?  I got the idea that it would be great if we could provide remote support to people – we had the means to do it, and if we signed up enough people, it would pay for the service.  If we signed up a few more, we could make some money.

That was last week.

We are now making extra money.  It’s not much, but we’ve actually got our monthly fees covered, and are bringing in extra.  WITH MY IDEA.  ANNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNND I spent about 5 hours the other night working on a friend’s computer remotely, and while I didn’t completely fix it, it felt GOOOOOD after 8 years of not doing it to be working on a computer.  *NOTE: said friend had a virus; I found it, ran the scans to remove most of it, and Craig did the final removal while I was still sleeping, after he got home from work.  Mostly joint effort, but I was the one who stayed up until 2:30 am working on it. 

I miss computer support.  Really, truly miss it.  I like providing it on my own terms, though, and not working for a corporation that has standards and policies and stupid shit like that.  Some of it makes a little sense, but really?  Not really.  I like knowing that I’m helping people *I know*.  That they’re truly grateful for my help!  And that I’m not over-charging them!

See, I’m offering antivirus / spyware update and scan, operating system critical updates, and web browser updates – remotely.  You don’t have to be at your computer, and I can do it from home.  Once a month, I’ll do all this for my customers, for $20.  And they get a discount on other service calls.  Since the start of Christmas break and yesterday, we’ve taken 5 computers in for virus removal.  Craig has handled it all.  Every computer is still running, there were no operating system reloads, nothing horrible happened to the machine in the end.  They’re working!  Even two that we *for sure* thought were dead. 

And because of all these virus-addlepated computers, I thought we could help prevent it.  And people want this service!  And I’m ecstatic that this is my idea because I didn’t think I had any left in my noggin!

Soooo.  Maybe I’ll be extra-productive tomorrow.  Things feel good.  I will hopefully be selling some of my photo/cards through a friend’s website.  I may have found a job that I can do from home legitimately that will pay more than my last job did as a software asst. supervisor!  Perhaps the light at the end of a tunnel *isn’t* a train after all?

Also, if you want more information, you can join our fan page.  You can pass it on to your friends.  And even if you don’t subscribe, if you refer a friend and they subscribe, we’ll give you 1 free hour of support OR one free month of maintenance.  

http://www.facebook.com/business/dashboard/?ref=sb#/pages/Kansas-City-MO/Darker-Violet-Designs/48986898878

So. 

I just don’t know where else to go with this.  Again, I apologize.  Please turn back if you don’t want to continue reading my self-pity.  I am about to explode, and I need to get it out.  I know of at least one person who’s interested, anyway.

So, I’ve been applying for jobs the past week or two, and trying to come up with ways to make *something* I do at home profitable.  It’s depressing.  I’m off the hook being a lunchlady with my mom (phew!) because some toolbox brought a 9mm to school last week.  They are supposed to work on some sort of emergency plan in the cafeteria, and she doesn’t want anything horrible to happen to me because of the kids.  Weird, but I don’t have to work a job I don’t really want for pay that’s well below what I’m worth because there’s nothing else available. 

I applied for two IT positions at a local school district.  I don’t necessarily want the job, but at least I will be utilizing the skills I’ve gained in the past thirteen years, rather than just flipping burgers.  Sure, I’ll get days off with the kids, but I imagine I’d have to work summers.  Of course, I’m pretty sure I don’t have a snowball’s chance in hell – I haven’t had a job outside the home since mid-2001, and there are *plenty* of qualified people out there.  Unless they decide I’ll be cheaper to hire, I doubt I’m even in the running.  But I tried, and honestly, as much as I don’t want the job, it felt kind of good to apply for it, even though the fucking application process probably was far more complicated than the job would be!

I’ve also looked into some merchandising jobs.  Nothing huge, but maybe there’s something with flexible hours and decent pay.  Plus, I’ve applied for a home job that a good friend of mine has been doing for a while.  Good pay, and you get to work from home.  She says it’s boring, but it’s over $10/hr, and I can do it here.  Big plus.  If I can get that, and I only work 20 hours a week, most of our financial problems would be taken care of.  If I get it, I will do my best to work as many hours as possible to help even more.  Plus, a homeschool website needs a new web developer; I submitted my resume and Craig’s, as a team, because they only want someone who can work about 5 hours a week, but in a long term relationship.  I’ve also been really pushing our new remote tech support option – we’re planning to get a monthly subscription with a large company who provides this service, and hope to offer it to our clients for $20/month – they would get virus scans and definition updates, spyware updates and scans, OS updates and scans, and probably browser updates, all handled remotely.  Anything above and beyond would cost extra, but a discount could be applied if you’re current on your monthly subscription.  Craig used the service last week when doing some support of his parents’ CAD computer, and it cut support time in half, if not more.  Brilliant!  There’s a need for this kind of thing, we just haven’t had many hits yet. 

Craig is on his final of 5 weekends working in a row.  I still hate his schedule.  I am so fucking tired of being stuck at home – with all the snow we’ve gotten, we’ve still got a huge snowdrift behind our other car, and he takes our main car to work.  That leaves me and the kids stuck at home unless my parents come over to get us.  SUCKS.  Not that we have any $$ to go do much of anything.  Woo, I get to go to the store, my parents’ house, school to pick up the kids…hey wow, that’s about it.  I’ve reached my limit. 

I spend a whole lot of time crying, when nobody’s around watching.  I’m exhausted; the kids come wake me up for five gazillion things throughout the night. (MOM come re-tuck me!  Mom!  I need a drink!  Mom! I had a bad dream! MOM MOM MOM!)  They’re also early risers.  And because Craig is currently on the overnight shift, I have to get up with them so he can sleep peacefully.  Then, he gets up, half the day is gone, I have to start working on dinner, and poof he’s gone.  I’m not sure I know how single moms do it!  I guess if you have to do it, you make it work, but really. 

Because of his schedule, if a friend calls me and says “Hey, I know you need a night out, let’s go see a movie / grab some dinner / go look at new shoes / shave a yak” I have to take a pass.  I know it’s not Craig’s fault, and I always feel so guilty for being angry and / or upset about his schedule, but I can’t help myself.  I have turned into someone I hate, and I don’t know what to do to change it.

I really wish that maybe once in a while, Craig’s parents would call and check up on us.  See if we need anything – money for gas, milk, something.  Or maybe my mom would call and quit making me feel like I’m the worst mother ever.  I know they’re sacrificing a whole lot to keep our kids in their schools – it’s killing me that they’re doing that!  But my choice is to take them both out.  Brandon probably wouldn’t last five seconds in the public school here; and if Melena were home every day, then my chances of getting errands / chores / job hunting done would be gone, and I’d be even more crazy than now. 

It doesn’t help that I’ve always had sleep issues.  I’ve struggled with insomnia for as long as I can remember.  In grade school and high school, I would read until I couldn’t stay awake any longer.  In college, I would fiddle on my computer.  Now, I do a combination.  My problem is that my brain goes and goes and goes and goes…and I can’t get it to stop.  Hell, the only way I can even focus long enough to fill out job applications, or work on my website, or even write this post is to have a few beers.  So, stress + not enough rest = Shelly feeling awful-er than normal.  I snap at the kids with little provocation, and it makes me feel guilty, worthless, and like a horrible mother.  Yeah, I know I’ve got some self-worth issues that I need to work out.  It doesn’t make any of this any easier.

I want some quiet time.  I want to be able to go to the bathroom without *anyone* in my family coming in to check on me, including Craig.  I want to be able to eat meals *with* my family, not after I’ve cleaned up after them and sent them on their way.  I want my family to be nice to each other for just one second, and quit arguing.  I want them to eat what I make.  I want to be able to put myself first, for once. I don’t want to have to pretend everything’s all right with me when it’s not.   I want one night of undisturbed sleep. I want to quit having to worry so much about finances, and my mental health.  I want to not be a fat housewife, and instead, be a hot stripper – at least I’d have some money to go buy cool shoes or get my hair cut!  I don’t want my friends to feel sorry for me and pay for shit for me, because, while your intentions are great, it makes me feel even worse.  I don’t want your pity, I just want your friendship.  You can bring me chocolate cake or something, maybe beer, but for crying out loud, guys, stop with the “feeling sorry” shit.  Be my friend, that’s all I really truly want. 

Okay, well, maybe another beer.    

As many of you may know, Craig and I have owned a web / graphic design and IT solutions company, Darker Violet Designs, for over ten years, providing technology solutions for the home and small business. Recently, we’ve had many machines come in that have needed work in removing viruses, spyware, and other malicious software. For various reasons, there have been times when it would have been more convenient if we had a way to remotely connect to a computer, rather than making arrangements to get the machine to us. We have been searching for a way to provide remote assistance to those who need it, and we have finally found a solution.

Here is what we want to offer you: for $20 a month, we will connect into your machine remotely once a month to update your anti-virus software and spyware removal tools, run a system scan, and verify that your operating system is currently up-to-date. Other support and assistance options would be available from us at an additional cost. Because we are purchasing a support tool package for this, all fees would need to be paid in a timely manner. We hope that our services would be of use to you or someone you know, so please, we’d love it if you could pass our information on. Thanks!

I’ve been meaning to write this entry for a while, and I just never get around to it.  It’s a little hard to write, and maybe that’s probably my problem.  Or maybe I’m just lazy? 

At any rate, I’ll start by saying that it’s kind of a running joke in my life, my absolute abhorence of shaving.  In winter, when I can get away with long pants, I seldom shave my legs.  I rarely wear skirts or dresses, so it doesn’t really matter.  I hate shaving my armpits, too, and avoid it if possible.  Now, to some, it may seem that I try not to shave as a way to give the finger to a society that has certain definitions of attractive.  To be honest, that’s not the reason at all.

If you’ve been reading long, you remember that I have PCOS, or poly-cystic ovarian syndrome.  I was diagnosed years and years and years ago.  There are many awful symptoms and side-effects, but the one I despise the absolute most is hirsutism, or extreme hair growth.

This symptom manifested itself when I was starting junior high school.  Puberty had really set in; I’d finally started getting my period, and I left my private school to go to a public junior high.  It was 1986, and it was a hard time for me.  I went from a small school with a few friends to a pretty big school with no friends.  To make matters worse, I was nerdy, fat, and I’d started growing excess hair on my face. 

I remember a few boys who sat near me in my homeroom class.  They liked to tell me on an almost-daily basis that I needed to shave, and that I had more hair on my face than their brother in high school.  It hurt so bad to hear that, but I knew that if I let them see me cry, it would egg them on even more.  I just put on a brave face and told them that they were ignorant, and at least I could get the hair removed.  They’d *always* be ignorant. 

In 8th grade, a boy drew a beard and mustache on my yearbook photo.  That hurt, too, but it hurt more that the principal wouldn’t do anything about it.  It left me feeling like I was some sort of freakish toad who deserved that kind of treatment. 

I used to use facial hair bleach to lighten the hair – it softened and lightened it so it wasn’t as noticeable, and I would trim what I could with small scissors, but the stuff smelled so bad and burned so much!  My parents also convinced their insurance carrier to pay for electrolysis treatments while I was in jr. high and high school.  I went 3 times a week, for 15 minute treatments.  Talk about painful!  I used to take my portable cassette player and turn it up really loud – I had three songs on one tape that lasted just about as long as my sessions, and I’m sure the woman performing my treatment sure got tired of listening to it.  Fifteen minutes of little shocks being administered to my chin and cheeks – not my idea of a good time.  Oh, the cream she used to use on me afterward to help cut down the redness and irritation was horrible!  It was thick and a dark orangey-tan color, it didn’t match my skin tone (not that it would match *any* skin tone) and it stained everything it touched.  I think I hated that cream even more than the treatment because it seemed to me that it was screaming HAY LOOKIE HERE AT ALL THIS HAIR!  I wouldn’t go anywhere if I had that stuff still on. 

There’s a spot near my earlobes, right on my jawline, that’s smooth and free of hair.  I remember being in 8th grade rubbing that spot and wishing, wishing as hard as I could for the rest of my face to feel like that.  I wanted so much to feel like a normal girl – well, as much of a normal girl as I could.  My defense mechanism was humor; I had to laugh or I knew I would cry!  I spent a lot of time crying as I got older and my friends started going out on dates, to prom…things I never did.  I had a horrible self-image, and that just did not help matters.  I knew, though, that people were judging me because of my physical looks.  Some of it was paranoia, but some of it was indeed true – it’s hard to ignore when you hear people whispering about it, pointing and giggling.

It’s still hard to deal with.  I tell people I won’t leave the house without showering because I hate having dirty hair (that’s true, to a degree – my hair is so long and it gets so stringy and greasy looking when it’s unwashed!); in reality, however, it’s because I don’t want to leave the house with stubble on my face. 

The other afternoon, at my second visit with my new doctor, he told me that if I ever decide to find someone to help me get rid of my hair to just let him know.  I was honestly over the moon!  I’ve never had a doctor even mention it in years!  OF COURSE I would love to do something about it.  I would love to feel pretty and normal for just a little bit, and not like some circus side-show freak.  Sure, I’m fortunate that Craig thinks it’s not a big deal and says (though not often enough *cough cough*) I’m beautiful to him, but the fact is that I don’t feel beautiful *to me*.  I want to get dressed up and made up and not have to worry about growth as the day progresses.  I want my kids to be able to put their hands on my face and not ask about my hair.  I just want it all gone!  But it’s not an option in my life right now.  Insurance won’t pay for treatment because it’s usually considered cosmetic, and paying out of pocket just isn’t feasible. I’ve lived with it for years, so I’ll manage, oh but it would be so nice….

And that is why I hate shaving.  I have to do it every day to parts of my body that I shouldn’t have to shave.  I equate it with embarrassment and ridicule.  I don’t want to have to do it anymore. 

Craig…..

Got a job offer on Friday!  He could start tomorrow, if he’s so inclined, but he’s waiting until Wednesday; that is, if he accepts the offer.  And he’s going to.  The downside is that it’s a night job – however, it’s four ten-hour days…but it’s still a night job.  He doesn’t know the hours yet, but he thinks his will be 8 PM to 6 AM.  Fortunately, it’s summer vacation, so we can always go to my parents’ house and play all day so that he can get used to the sleeping schedule.

There are a few sections of the offer paperwork that concern us – specifically, their claim to all ideas that he comes up with during his tenure, and the bit that may not allow him to do any consulting work on the side.  The first part may not allow him to do any programming or development on the side – he works on a few open source products once in a while, and sometimes creates things for my use.  The second part may mean that we have to terminate our support agreement with a local business, and it may mean that we are also unable to pick up the odd PC support / repair job.  He has asked for clarification, so we’ll see.  I’d hate do lose our support agreement, as that’s a steady monthly check, buuuuuuuuuuuuut….

Craig has a job, nevertheless!

On Friday, my son graduated from Kindergarten.

Yesterday was my daughter’s second birthday.

Today is the seven-year anniversary of the loss of my first child.

It’s hard to believe it’s been seven years!

Craig and I were married on November 3rd, 2001; the first weekend after Halloween.  I finished my last round of birth control pills, and we went merrily on our way toward starting a family.  Knowing about my PCOS, we weren’t expecting any miracles, but we hoped!  On March 17th, I remember being out with my cousin one night, and asking her if she was pregnant.  She assured me she wasn’t, and wondered why I was asking.  I’ve always had a tendency to have very specific dreams when a family member was about to announce a pregnancy, and I knew without a doubt that I was not pregnant, so I just assumed it was her. 

It wasn’t.

On April 15th, 2002, I had made a wonderful grilled steak dinner for Craig and myself.  I took one bite of that steak….and gagged.  Up until that night, I could eat steak almost every night.  My period wasn’t late, really, but *I just knew* I was pregnant.  We ran out and got a test maybe the next morning?  It was positive.

I never thought I’d get pregnant.  Never.  But here I was, pregnant without any medical assistance!  We were over the moon with joy!  Our baby was due on December 21st – near the winter solstice – and we were beside ourselves.  I told everyone I could think of!  A baby!  A mommy! 

It was a rough time for us, though.  My hormones were raging, and we were newlyweds.  Nothing unexpected, but still rough.  Things were calming down, though, over Memorial Day weekend, and we’d gone out for lunch and were enjoying ourselves.  I excused myself to run to the bathroom.

I was bleeding.

It wasn’t spotting, it was bleeding.  I called Craig from the stall.  I panicked.  We called my OB, but it was a holiday weekend.  I knew what was happening, but didn’t want to admit it to anyone.

We got in to see the OB as soon as we could and got an ultrasound.  Our greatest fears were confirmed.  Our precious, tiny baby had no heartbeat.  I was about 14 weeks pregnant, but our dear little one stopped developing around 7 weeks gestation.  We sat in the examination room for what seemed like hours while we waited for my OB to come talk with us.  My options were to naturally miscarry or have a D&C.  I was not prepared to ever have to make this decision.  Never ever ever.  I can’t imagine anyone is.  We scheduled the procedure for a few days later and I went home to let nature take it’s course.

I couldn’t even tell my mom myself.  I had to call my younger brother and ask him to give her the news.  I apologize for that.  But knowing that my mother had three miscarriages herself, and knowing how proud she was to soon be a grandmother, I couldn’t do it.  I didn’t have the energy.

I locked myself in our bedroom for two days.  I didn’t come out to visit with anyone.  I couldn’t face them.  I was devastated.  I cried and cried in our room for days waiting for it to all be over. 

And then it was.  My OB was incredibly nice.  He did his best to keep me in good spirits thoughout the procedure.  I remember the room being frigid, like I was in a freezer.  I felt frozen.  I felt alone.  I felt helpless.  I felt unbelievable sadness.  I felt empty.

I came home to find one of my rose bushes in bloom.  There had been no buds on it for weeks, and usually, when it bloomed, it was a very pale bluish-pink blossom.  There was one flower, and it was a brilliant bright pink and white.  It was the only time it bloomed in that color.

I never knew the gender of the baby, it was too tiny.  Still, I named her June Rose. 

That was on June 2nd, 2002. 

Craig’s grandparents were in town for Memorial Day weekend, so Craig’s parents had a big shindig at their house with many members of the family in attendance.  I was chatting with my grandmother-in-law and her sister-in-law about why we’re sending Brandon to Catholic school, and how well he’s doing there, when talk of school uniforms came up.  Another family member started “discussing”* how uniforms were bad, they didn’t allow for individuality, and that everyone would be like mindless robots because they were like job uniforms.  Of course, I felt that I had great insight on this subject because I’ve been on both sides of the coin:  public school for Kindergarten and then 7th-12th grade, Catholic school from 1st-6th grade.  Granted, my opinions are based on how *I* felt, but that counts for something.

I honestly think that school uniforms are a really good idea.  When I was younger, during the economic downturn of the early to mid 80s, our family really felt the crunch.  My father was a heavy construction worker, and there were really no jobs around.  My mom stayed at home with me and my brother because we were so young and childcare, then, as now, was pricey, especially when you relied on one income.  Because we had school uniforms, my parents could get by without buying quite as many other items of clothing.  Because I had a uniform, I never had to worry about looking trendy or stylish; I just had to abide by the dress code.  I spent one quarter of third grade in public school, and it was horrible when we’re talking about my clothing; hell, going through junior high and high school was awful!  I’d spent so much time in a uniform and not knowing anything about being cool that honestly….I probably looked like some sort of homeless hillbilly.  Okay, not that bad – my clothes were all in good condition, but I wouldn’t have known what was in style if it came up and poked me in the eyeballs. 

But back to the original topic!  Why do I think uniforms are a good idea?  Well, when students don’t have to worry about how they look, they can better concentrate on their studies.  When uniforms are required, students are less likely to stand out because of what they wear, reducing instances of bullying and teasing.  I don’t believe that uniforms supress individuality; in fact, I believe they help encourage it; at least, they did for me.  I enjoyed expressing who I was through my jewelry, though that probably seems a bit silly.  I never felt like a mindless robot at school because I was encouraged to think and create and ask questions.  Honestly, I felt the opposite when I went to public school – though I’m sure I can’t attribute that to dress code. 

What do you think about uniforms?  There’s a lot I could write, and it just escapes me for now!  I’d like to hear your perspective!

*I use the term loosely; however, this is not the entry for that “discussion”.  Maybe later.  Remind me, if you’re interested. 

Craig left for the evening to go to some sort of networking event for web developers.  (Geeks) (Wait that’s me too).  Anyway, it’s just me and the chitterlings. 

I CANNOT BELIEVE HOW MUCH EASIER THEY ARE TO DEAL WITH when my dear, darling husband isn’t around.  I suspected that this would be the case, but now I know it to be true.  We ate dinner, we played cars, we got ready for bed, and the kids are both sleeping.  The only time I had to raise my voice was when Brandon was goofing around with his sister instead of putting on his pajamas.  She distracts him easily. 

Not only are they both sleeping, but I managed to put her in her crib *while she was still awake* and she went to sleep!  On her own!  We have had NOTHING but sleeping problems with her, and Craig rocks her to sleep every night.  Not that he minds, but we’ve tried getting her into her crib when she’s drowsy, and when he’s been home, she’s screamed and cried. 

I can feel several weeks’ worth of stress melting away without the help of an alcoholic beverage or loud music playing through headphones.  It’s not even quiet around here!  Brandon is listening to a Backyardigans CD on his radio as he sleeps, and I’ve been too lazy to go turn it off.

Words cannot convey how peaceful this feels.  I need to ship him off more often. 

School is over in two days.  I am dreading it so much.  I can handle two kids.  I can handle one husband.  But the three of them together are driving me absofuckinglutely insane.  I dread leaving them to go run errands or do something interesting without them because all hell breaks loose the minute I come home.  For instance:

I rode with a good friend last Saturday from KC to St. Charles MO (note: <3 hour trip!) just to see one of her favorite authors, Ellen Dugan.  It was well worth meeting her, I will say that, and the trip was fun, albeit long, because it was a one-day trip.  When I got home, I was assured by Craig and Brandon that things had gone very smoothly and there were no big issues.  It didn’t stay that way for long, nosireebob!  I hadn’t been home but a few minutes when the whining and not-listening started.  All of them, not just the under five crowd.  It was like that when we were taking Tai Chi, too.  I’d get nice and relaxed in class, but when we got to my parents’ house to pick the kids up, they were just insane!  Probably they were over-tired, and that was part of it…but not all of it.  It got to the point that I was actually leaving Tai Chi *more* stressed out than when I went in!  I loved the class, and really liked the instructor, but I just couldn’t handle the stress.

Oh, but this is so nice!  Hey, Craig, if you can read this while you’re out….stay out a little longer.  Just be home in time to get Brandon to school, because I need the car. 

Please, please, if you could – Craig is still job hunting, and could use some more leads.  Email, Tweet, Blog, put on Facebook and MySpace and anywhere else you can think of – www.craigclemons.com – looking for IT work in the Greater Kansas City area.  If you can help by passing this info on, I will make you a lasagna dinner!  Cookies!  Maybe even home-made ice cream! 

I know we have a few more weeks left in his severance package – but things are just going totally downhill financially right now, and I’m just about to lose my mind.  I’m trying not to, but it doesn’t always work that way.  Oh to be independently wealthy.