Monday 10 November 2014

How to Not Get a Job

Currently at work, I am wading through resumes to try and replace our irreplaceable colleague.  He has the nerve to leave us, and now we have the challenge of finding someone capable, who can put up with those of us he is leaving behind.   As sad as I am to see him go, I do enjoy the job of screening resumes.  There are some things I see that after making me laugh, make a resume get filed under "not a chance".
 
1.  Forget to use spell check.  Find it.  Use it.  If you don't, I will notice and my co-workers and I will laugh at you.
 
2.  Write:  "I pay great attention to detail", and have a glaringly obvious grammar mistake in the next sentence.  We notice.  We laugh.  We check your Facebook posts to see if your grammar is bad all the time.
 
3.  Put your name as J. Smith everywhere!  If I don't know your name, it's a little awkward to call you for an interview, so I probably just won't bother.
 
4.  Have an inappropriate e-mail address included.  You can easily get a free e-mail address, so perhaps do that, and keep the one with a suggestive number in it for other purposes?
 
5.  Not know what you are applying for.  A securities dealer is not looking for security guards. Reading the job description might help you out.

6.  During the interview mention how you're undecided which country you want to live in.  Maybe for a temp job this would be ok, but for a permanent position, it's a really bad idea.

7.  Do this!

I know the job market is tough.  I do not envy people job hunting.  But please, proofread, and have a friend proofread, and have a stranger on the street proofread.  If you do that, you will have better luck staying out of the "not a chance" pile.

Thursday 6 November 2014

What I didn't know before I had preemies.

Both my girls were born early, earning me the unenviable title of preemie mom.  So in honour of Prematurity Awareness Month (everything has a month it seems), I thought I would share some of the things I have learnt since becoming a preemie mom.  Both girls were early due to a placental abruption.  Paige was born at 35 weeks, weighing 4lb, 2oz.  Elsie was born almost four years later at 31 weeks 4 days, weighing 3lb, 12 oz.  I am far from an expert, but here are just a few things I learnt from the birth of my daughter's.

1.  You don't have to be high risk to have a premature baby.
This first time I realised I might have an early baby was two days before Paige's birth, while waiting to be seen by the obstetrician.  There was no family history, no previous indicators there might be problems, so the thought never crossed my mind.  Being pregnant puts you at risk.  Sorry.

                                                               Me holding Paige when she's just a few days old.


2.  Being in a country that has universal health care is a huge blessing! 
Paige was in the hospital for 15 days, and Elsie was in for 48.  If we lived in another country we would quite possibly have had to spend our days in discussions with an insurance company to cover our $500,000+ hospital bill.  Thankfully, we never even saw a bill, and that was one (quite significant) thing we did not have to stress over.

3.  The learning curve for a preemie is astronomical.
Elsie did not know how to breathe when she was born (lungs are one of the last organs to develop during pregnancy).  She had to teach herself to breathe, to suck, to swallow.  She was tube fed for the first bit, so she then had to learn to take a bottle, and then finally learn to breastfeed.  My baby passed all those tests with flying colours!

4.  Premature is not the same as sick.
When people mentioned my baby being sick, I was offended.  Yes, they both had some sick days, but in general, they were just early, and needed to grow and figure out the suck/swallow/breathe reflex. 

5.  Your baby has two ages.
Actual age is from the date of birth, (used for scheduling birthday parties).  Corrected age is from your due date, and that is what is used when considering developmental milestones.  Trying to remember those dates with baby brain is much harder than it sounds.
Paige holding Elsie when she's just over 1 week old.

6.  Pregnant women are the cause of envy.
I have never reached the point I could not see my toes.  I have never passed my due date with no baby in hand.  I have never given birth in the hospital of my choice.  And I envy those women who have.  I know those last few weeks must be so uncomfortable, but I am jealous that I will never have that experience.

7.  Visiting a mom and her new, full term baby in the hospital is heartbreaking.
I had a niece and a nephew born just months after Elsie.  Forcing myself to go to the hospital to see them took so much willpower.  Seeing a mom there with a chubby, full-term baby, reminded me so much more of what I never have, and never will experience.

8.  Blessings are abundant.
I am blessed with a wonderfully supportive husband, friends, family, and church.  I was blessed to be seen by doctors who knew what to do, and when to do it.  I am blessed to now have two beautiful, healthy little girls, who don't seem to have any lasting consequences of their early arrival.

Having an early baby (twice) was the scariest experience of my life.  It was devastating, and heart-breaking, and I'm still processing almost two years later.  But when I listen to Paige learning to read, and see Elsie jumping on the couch, I am reminded of what a miracle they actually are, and how far they have both come.

Tuesday 28 October 2014

My Pretty Little Radio

My sister does a segment called Thrift Blitz over at SelfBinding Retrospect.  Since I am a fan or hers, and of being thrifty, I decided I should do something to add to her link-up party!  I participated last time (yes, I'm that sister, that is my awesome trunk, and that little guilt trip about not having a blog may be the reason this all started).

I was trying to decide what I should share, and knew it couldn't be clothes (I don't do selfies.  They would not be cute).  I was wandering through my house, and realized the only pieces of furniture we have that were purchased new are our bedroom suite (my husband worked for a furniture manufacturer before we got married, and got a good deal because the tint wasn't perfect), and our wooden rocking chair (which was a wedding gift from my wonderful great aunt).

We didn't plan to furnish our house this way, it kind of just happened.  But now that we've done it, I love it.  I love that most of our stuff you can't easily find in a furniture store.  And I love that I have more freedom to paint or refinish or completely tear apart pieces we got used, than I would if we had invested a lot of money in them.  We've managed to gradually acquire some antique pieces (both of our grandparents downsized, so were giving away furniture), and I adore the warmth and character they give to a room.

This time around, I decided to share with you my awesome Kijiji find from last winter!  (Sorry for the quality of the pictures.  Apparently the quality of iPhone photos goes downhill after you drop and crack it).  This beauty was listed for $75, and still had all the components in it.  Now that is more than I would normally pay for a radio, but my plan is not to have a radio (although it looks pretty in my living room for now, and with some tweaking would probably work).  The plan is to find a gorgeous vessel sink and faucet, and make this into the prettiest little vanity for our powder room.  (I had the idea when I saw it listed, so knew the dimensions would work before going to see it.)  And the miraculous part of this whole story, was the husband agreed to the plan!  No argument, no haggling over price, he even went with me to pick it up. 

If you have a thrifting find, go share it at SelfBinding Retrospect, so we can all enjoy your awesome bargain!

Saturday 25 October 2014

Canning with a toddler

It's a cool fall day and my husband is gone for the day to a firefighting course.  I decided it was a perfect day to attempt to make apple butter.  I used this recipe (which is delicious).  It's actually quite easy to make, and I can only imagine how much simpler it would be without a toddler in the house!

Of course, the girls both entertained themselves until I reached the point of no return.  The apple butter was thickening nicely and splattering if I didn't stir it, the jars were being sterilized and ready to be pulled out, and I had to find my funnel, and jar lifter, and sugar and spices.  That was the moment Elsie decided Mommy had ignored her enough! 

She walks into the kitchen holding a cup.  "Ju, ju" (juice, which in her language means milk or water).  And this child does not want her juice in a sippy cup.  She wants it in a big girl cup, so she can dump it on the floor and splash in it, and then look shocked and heartbroken when mommy gets her in trouble.  I give her some water in her cup and she wanders off.  (I haven't found the puddle yet, but I'm sure I'll be stepping in it soon).  Less than a minute later, she comes back in pulling at her diaper "Mommy, poo."  (No translation needed, right?)  I tell her to wait, because toddlers are known for their patience.  She decides waiting is not an option, so instead, gets between me and the stove, and uses her bum to push me backwards until I'm bent in half trying to stir the pot from a distance at an awkward angle.  "Mommy, up".  So I lift her up, bouncing her on one hip, and continuing to stir the pot. 

Finally, my apple butter is ready to be put in jars.  I put Elsie down and brace myself for the screaming.  She fulfils my expectations and has a meltdown, because why can't mommy hold her while filling hot jars with boiling hot stuff?  Why doesn't mommy have enough hands?  You can see from the picture that the end of the world is clearly imminent, and she is the only one who can save it by making her mommy pick her up.

I work through the screaming, finish filling the jars, and then rescue us all from our impending doom (you're welcome)!

And I expect to have not learnt my lesson, and attempt canning again whenever the mood strikes.

Tuesday 21 October 2014

A Terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day

OK, so maybe it wasn't that bad, but that movie just came to theatres, and I really want to see it. 

Every morning is the same routine, we wake up, get dressed, have breakfast, make lunches, put shoes and coats on, wait for the bus for Paige, take Elsie to daycare, and show up to work with two minutes to spare.  When one of those things gets messed up, it throws off the entire day.

Me:  "Paige, get your shoes and coat on!"
Paige:  "Where are they?"
Me:  "Where you took them off yesterday."
Paige:  "I wore my boots yesterday and want to wear my crocs today!"
Me:  "Then find them!"
Paige:  "Mommy!  My crocs are in the car!"
Me:  "Just put your boots on!"
Paige:  "No!  My teacher told me not to wear them again.  I can't take them off by myself."
Me:  "Then run to the car to get your crocs!"
Paige:  "But I don't have shoes!"
Me:  "Just wear your soccer shoes to the car."
Door slams.
Paige:  "Mommy, I couldn't find my crocs!"
Me:  "Just wear your boots!"
Paige:  "But my teacher told me not to!"
Me:  "Tell your teacher if you didn't put them on, you were going to miss the bus!"
Paige starts crying
Paige:  "But mommy, I can't move the bag!"
Me:  "What bag?"
Paige:  "My shoes are under the dog food bag!"
Bus is honking from outside.
Me:  "Paige!  You missed the bus!  You wouldn't have if you had put on your boots!"
More tears.  I move the dog food bag in the mud room, no shoes.
Bus drives away.
Paige: "Mommy!  The dog food bag in the car. My crocs are stuck under it!"
I go to the car, rescue the crocs, and load the girls in the car.

Paige was on time for school, and I was late for work.

Shortly after Paige arrived home from school, she said she wanted to give Elsie a piggyback ride.  (In the future, that statement will set off alarms in my mind).  From the kitchen I hear Elsie screaming, and go check on them.  Paige is indeed giving her one year old sister a "piggyback" ride, but holding her over her shoulders, upside down by the ankles.

That was enough to snap me out of my mood.  But it's hard to get a five year old in trouble through your laughter.