Good Help Is Hard to Find: Conclusion...?

I came into work today and noticed that Katie's sweater, usually slung over the back of her chair, was gone. This was a hint to me that she was finally "let go." I asked one of the associates and he confirmed that she was "given the boot on Friday." I guess this means I have to squeeze in my workouts before work because my lunch breaks are, until Katie's replacement is found, very limited.

The Shape of a Mother is Beautiful

December 24, 2004: Eight months pregnant with Makayla


I happened upon this website yesterday. It was comforting to know that my new mommy body was perfectly normal. Like many women, I have struggled with poor body image. Even today, I struggle not to utter negative statements about my body in front of my daughter; I do not want her to inherit my many hang-ups about my body. Surprisingly, becoming a mother made me more accepting of my body: after all, it housed my precious daughter as she grew from a mere cluster of cells into a full-term baby. How can I hate my body when it helped to create, grow and give life to another human being? It is wonderfully made by God and capable of wonderful things. Yes, I may not have a flat stomach anymore and the shape of my breasts may have changed from 18 months of breastfeeding but my body is beautiful because it is a mother's body.

Good Help Is Hard to Find: Part 2

Katie, our current receptionist, waltzed in at 9:35 yesterday morning. In an attempt to help her out (and to ensure that she has a fighting chance at NOT getting fired), I decided to give her some advice. After all, if she gets fired, I will suffer the most because I am expected to assume the responsiblity of answering the phones in the absence of a receptionist. I told her that I had worked at as a receptionist in various law firms in Boston before I started working at this firm. I told her that I was reprimanded for being 1 minute late and that consistent tardiness is never tolerated at any firm. She admitted that she was late that morning but denied being consistently late. When I pointed out that she arrives EVERY DAY at 9:20 ever since her second day of work (she actually showed up on time her first day), she replied, "That's ridiculous! You can't expect someone who takes public transportation to be on time every day. Public transportation is so unreliable!" When I told her it was her responsibility to arrive on time and suggested she leave home earlier than she does now, she repeated her response regarding the unreliability of public transportation. Before I could tell her most of us at the firm take public transportation yet manage to get to work on time, the phone rang and she promptly picked it up to signal the end of our conversation.

Needless to say, I do not like this girl. Even though I would suffer if she were gone, I actually do not care if she gets fired. She doesn't do her job well at all, arrives late every day and leaves early. And she has only been here for two weeks!

Addendum: This morning, she came in at 9:20 again. Normal individuals would consider that arriving late for work. I guess in Katie's world, 20 minutes late shouldn't count as late. You'd figure with that mindset, she'd leave 5:20 p.m. every day instead of 4:50 p.m.

Good Help Is Hard to Find: A Little Rant

I have been working at the same law firm for 3 years and 3 months. I don't know how it started and it isn't in my formal job description but the responsibility for covering the phones when the receptionist/secretary is unavailable lies on me. During the past three years, our firm has gone through receptionists/secretaries like Kleenex. Through it all, only one receptionist stood out as a decent worker who did her job well. The others? Well, I'll let you decide:

1. "Janet" was fired for using the boss's credit cards to purchase a cellphone for her boyfriend and fund a romantic cruise with him to the Bahamas. She would disappear for hours at a time, requiring me to answer the phones for her.

2. "Cindy" would take extra long lunchs with the law clerk, meaning I had to answer the phones for an extra half hour or hour each day. She shamelessly flirted with the associates but, over all, she wasn't the worse of them.

3. "Lisa" would also take extra long lunchs, even though she knew I was pregnant and needed to eat as soon as she was due back from her lunch break. She also couldn't take messages to save her life. She didn't know how to type up any documents on Word and she made many spelling errors.

4. "Tom," our sole male receptionist, couldn't remember basic instructions regarding the distribution of mail. He was fired while I was on maternity leave. They found out he had been hiding the mail. Without me around to help him, he became desperate and started stockpiling pieces of mail in a big box under his desk. I actually felt sorry for him but not surprised that he had been let go.

5. "Trish" was out for at least one day per week for various reasons - suddenly severe case of a mysterious illness, food poisoning, work that needed to be done at her home, etc. etc. She probably worked one full week only a handful of times. She would also leave early most Fridays simply because she wanted to (who doesn't, right?) Of course, this meant I had to answer the phones for 1-2 days per week and until 5 on Fridays.

6. "Carla" was an eager learner but basically knew nothing about anything to do with her job. When asked if she knew how to use the phone system we have in place, she said (in all seriousness) "I have answered phones in my personal life but not professionally." I had to keep myself from laughing out loud at that one.

7. "Katie" is our current receptionist. I had to show her 10 times how to send calls into voicemail. I even wrote out instructions for her. Yet, she still couldn't do it and we discovered the reason: she kept pushing the wrong button. I guess the button labelled "voicemail" needs to be labelled in bigger letters. She has been working here for almost two weeks and has been late 7 out of the 9 days that she has shown up. Yesterday, she didn't even show up due to a "procedure" that was done on her knee. Miraculously, she is walking around fine today - no crutches, limp or the like. She disappears for 15 minutes at a time and takes an extra long long every day. She complains about our firm and how things are run and even once threatened to quit because she didn't get paperwork from our boss fast enough. (Remember: she has only been here one day short of 2 weeks.) She is the worse receptionist/secretary we have had thus far.

Good help is hard to find and when that help doesn't come, I'm the one to suffer. I end up having to do the receptionist/secretary's job on top of my own, with no extra pay to show for it. My employers have been wonderful to me through my pregnancy and maternity leave and I continue to help them in this regard as a show of gratitude. But when can I say I have paid my debt to them?

Last night's conversation

Me: How old are you, Makayla? One. Repeat it with me, "One."
(I make the number "1" sign.)
(Makayla smiles at me.)
Me: How old are you, Makayla?
Makayla: Two.
Me: No, one. How old are you, Makayla?
Makayla: Two.
(She smiles at me and hands me a block, signalling the end of our conversation.)

Only 18 months old and already claiming to be older than she really is. This girl's growing up fast!

The Joys of taking Public Transportation

I have lived in big cities most of my life - Toronto, Montreal, and now Boston. I have been taking public transportation on an almost daily basis since 7th grade and I know the "joys" of cramming into buses and trains with dozens of people - back to back, side to side and, sometimes, face to armpit. Despite my 20 years of experience in travelling with the masses, there are still types of people who take public transportation that drive me crazy. These types come in different colours, gender, shapes and sizes yet they all basically act the same way:

1. The "Butt-er": This person, seeing the crowd waiting behind the yellow line for the next train, sees fit to squeeze him/herself to the spot closest to the yellow line at the spot where the closest train door will open. This person believes he/she, being special in some way, deserves the coveted spot where the train door will open, allowing the prince/princess to enter the train before the lowly masses. The fact that many of the masses behind him/her have been waiting for the train for over 15 minutes before he/she arrived matters not to the butt-er. Given his/her self-conferred special status, he/she feels entitled to enter the train first, ensuring he/she will get a seat which he/she, of course, deserves, given the aforementioned special status.

2. The Pole-hugger: Not to be confused with the tree-hugger, the Pole-hugger's motivation lies in self-preservation and fear. The Pole-hugger fears injury from sudden stops on the train or bus. After finding a pole, the Pole-hugger will envelope it with both arms, hanging on for his/her dear life, thereby preventing all others access to the life-saving pole. All those around the Pole-hugger are wise to seek another pole since there is no way around the Pole-hugger unless one is tall enough to stretch his/her arms over the Pole-hugger to reach the top-most part of the pole that the Pole-hugger is unable to hug. Like the butt-er, the Pole-hugger feels somehow entitled to the pole to the exclusion of other passengers.

3. The Suddenly Blind passenger: These passengers have perfect vision when waiting, entering and finding a seat on the bus or train. However, when confronted with another passenger who, due to a physical condition, should be given the seat, this passenger suddenly goes blind. He/she becomes unable to see the crippled/elderly/very pregnant person before him/her. The Suddenly Blind passenger becomes unable to see the crippled/elderly/very pregnant person's obvious physical discomfort at having to stand on a crowded bus. The crippled/elderly/very pregnant person could be falling over, unable to keep him/herself up, yet the Suddenly Blind person will not offer his/her precious seat.

These are the most annoying types of passengers that I encounter while taking public transportation. I had the displeasure of meeting many Suddenly Blind passengers while I was pregnant. In fact, one day, when I was approximately 8 months pregnant (i.e. very obviously pregnant), I offered my seat to another pregnant woman. She looked like she was ready to give birth to twins yet no one offered her a seat on that crowded bus. As I stood up to offer her my seat, I noticed so many healthy, able-bodied men and women averting their eyes, suddenly interested in a hang nail or the tip of their shoes. Oh, the "joys" of taking public transportation!

A humbling moment

I had just stepped out of the movie theatre, buoyed by the feel-good message of the movie about a young woman who, having lost her soul, found it again. The sun was still out and shoppers milled about in front of shops and cafes. I had just turned a corner, silently smiling at my memory of a scene in the movie, when I saw the child. The child was dressed in plaid blue shorts and blue top. I couldn't immediately determine the child's gender, although I assumed it was a boy, given his attire. He was walking slowly, almost like a mummy one see's in the silent movies, and his arms and legs were wrapped in a blue hoisery-type fabric. His head was covered in the same blue fabric, which was wrapped around thick white gauze. Around his left wrist remained a hospital ID tag. He was walking around ever so slowly, almost painfully, with two women who chatted quickly in Spanish, admiring the wares displayed at each store. They almost didn't seem aware of the child's state.

As I walked past the child, I saw his face and it almost brought me to tears. Violent, red scars covered his entire face, save two beautiful brown eyes cast down. I could tell he was in pain - both physically and emotionally, both from his burns and the awareness that everyone around him was looking at him. I felt such pity for that child and could not keep from looking at him. His eyes were beautiful, yet full of knowledge - knowledge of pain, suffering, sadness. I wanted to hold him, invite him to dinner, buy him every toy his little heart desired. Anything to take that look out of his eyes.

As the pedestrian light came on at my crosswalk and the child walked by me, trying to quietly avoid people standing in his path, I felt humbled and ashamed. I had been feeling so sorry for myself these past few weeks, wallowing in my depression and self-pity. And then I saw that child, and I realized that I do not know true pain or suffering like he does. Tomorrow looks bright for me, but his entire body will forever remain scarred, a constant reminder of his accident and the pain he endured.

When I got home, I cried for that boy and I sent a little prayer out to God to bless him. I do not know his name or whether I will see him again but he humbled me without one word or action.

Summertime fun

Makayla walking on the "boardwalk" at South End beach, Boston.

Makayla carrying her beach bucket at the South End beach, Boston.

Fourth of July clamboil at Great-grandma Hilda's place in Acushnet, MA.
Playing with Baxter, Great-grandma Hilda's dog.
Having fun with Aunt Nancy.

Franklin Park Zoo, Boston.

"Look, Daddy! Doggy!" (She called everything "doggy" that day. Here she is actually pointing at a gorilla.)

Untitled

It's been a building up inside me for a while now. I have tried to ignore it but it has grown to the point where it is impossible for me to ignore.

I have been feeling extremely unhappy lately. I couldn't pinpoint the reason behind it; I would venture to say that it is an amalgam of many different factors, cirumstances, events and people in my life. It has come to the point where I just want to escape, to leave everything and everyone behind. I fantasize about starting over with a new identity but that is only a superficial fix. One can never forget her past, no matter how hard one tries. Most of all, a mother can never forget her children, no matter how far she runs away from home.

I have grown unhappy with the way I live, how I have lived my life thus far, my looks, my body, my so-called career. I torture myself with regrets regarding choices I have made that have brought me to where I am today. I know I cannot undo what I have done but I can do something about changing the course of my life. And that course, thus far, leads to nowhere but utter desperation. I can't live like this anymore. And I won't.

Tragedy

A horrible tragedy in Boston's Ted Williams Tunnel, which is part of "The Big Dig". Two things immediately come to mind: major lawsuit and a sudden surge in the number of (newly developed) cases of claustrophobia in New England.

Gratitude

10 Things that I am grateful for:

1. Good health
2. Gainful employment
3. Living in a (generally) safe and free community
4. A family that cares about me
5. A happy, healthy child
6. A caring husband
7. Never having to go hungry
8. A comfortable home
9. A closet full of clothes
10. The opportunity to get an education.

Laughing Matter

I have suffered from a cough for the past 2 1/2 weeks. It still lingers but has lost much of its strength. It was a horrible cough that caused me to hack nonstop and uncontrollably to the point of regurgitation. As a result of violent coughing, I pulled a muscle in my back and was forced to go to the emergency room. I was prescribed some major pain relievers. Sadly, Makayla caught the same cough but, luckily, she hasn't had any violent coughing fits yet, although it has disrupted her (and naturally, my) sleep.

On top of the cough, I've been feeling a little blue lately. To lift my spirits, I decided to find some comic relief online and came upon this website. It wasn't a completely good idea since my back hurt and every giggle made it worse. Nevertheless, I couldn't help but laugh out loud in my office at work, body shaking in between little outbursts of "ow!" My favourites:

From the "funny church bulletin mistakes" section:

1. Ladies, don't forget the rummage sale. It's a chance to get rid of those things not worth keeping around the house. Don't forget your husbands.

2. Miss Charlene Mason sang, "I will not pass this way again," giving obvious pleasure to the congregation.

3. Barbara remains in the hospital and needs blood donors for more transfusions. She is also having trouble sleeping and requests tapes of Pastor Jack's sermons.

From the "funny and stupid letters to government agencies" section:

1. I am glad to report that my husband who was reported missing is dead.

2. In accordance with your instructions, I have given birth to twins in the enclosed envelope.

3. I am very much annoyed to find you have branded my boy as illiterate. This is a dirty lie. I was married to his father a week before he was born.

From the "funny headlines from newspapers" section:

1. Deaf mute gets new hearing in killing.

2. Police begin campaign to run down jaywalkers.

3. Two sisters reunite after eighteen years at checkout counter.