The Book of Life

My mother is a reading and kindergarten teacher, so I know a lot about books. And I know that each section of a book is called a chapter. Today is the end to a chapter in my mom's book. After today she will officially be a retired kindergarten teacher.

My mom went back to complete both her undergraduate and graduate degrees in education while I was in elementary school. I know this could not have been easy, but my mom kicked arse. Now, twenty years later, she can finally spend some time relaxing. No more rushing to Target the day after Halloween to secure dozens of bags of clearance candy; No grocery shopping on the weekends with the rest of the world; No doctors appointments or flights scheduled around school vacations. Congratulations, Mom!

The "Book of Life" concept is especially relevant this week, because that is what Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur are all about. On Rosh Hashana the Book of Life is opened. On Yom Kippur, your fate for the year is sealed and the Book is closed. In between the two holidays is an important time for reflection and atonement. You ask forgiveness from those you may have slighted, you give thanks for the year's gifts (e.g, my little AK), and you consider how to improve in the coming year.

It is more spiritual than the secular New Year (natch). These resolutions aren't about losing weight or laying off the alcohol. They are about limiting gossip, pushing out negativity, being a better person. I hope that 5769 (the year according to the Jewish calendar) brings health and peace to all.

A Real Whodunit

The evidence... Upon closer inspection...footsteps! I wonder what happens if we follow them?
The culprit!

I'm a Snob

Yesterday we got a note from the owner of the day care center. Either he has the same level of writing skills as the director or she ghost wrote it on his behalf. Regardless, it is abysmally written. The intent of the letter is very nice and good news, but man, the delivery doesn't increase my confidence levels. Here it is in its entirety - spelling and grammar are taken verbatim. If you don't believe me ask DaisyJo_Mom or DM.

Dear [Day Care] Parents,

I wanted to take a moment to inform you that [Cristine Jones] has been asked to be the Head Chairperson for the Norwalk Parents Engagement Committee. The Parent Engagement Committee is a group that's {I AM NOT GOOD AT THAT VS. WHOSE BUT I DO KNOW 'THAT'S' ISN'T RIGHT} goal is for parents in Norwalk to understand three key messages. One - "Talk, Listen, and Read". Two- "Every child needs a doctor and a dentist". Three-"211 Info Line". {IS '211 INFO LINE' A MESSAGE?}

Furthermore, the Mayor of Norwalk, Richard Moccia, and the Superintendent of Norwalk Public Schools, Salvatore Corda, have officially invited our Director [Cristine Jones], to be a voting member of the Norwalk Early Childhood Council. The council is a collaborative effort of the Board of Education, Educators, Programs, Social Services, Health Professionals, and Advocates to better serve the needs of the children of Norwalk.

[Cristine]'s interest in serving, nurturing and educating young children in the Norwalk Community has been recognized at the highest levels. She has accepted both of the positions as the Head Chairperson and as a council member {JUST TO REITERATE}.

I would like to officially congradulate {REALLY, DO YOU NOT KNOW HOW TO USE SPELLCHECK?} her on behalf of the [Day Care] Family for a job well done, as I know these appointments will serve to make our school that much {HOW MUCH?}better. [Cristine] will continue at [Day Care] while serving as on both committees {JUST WHEN I WAS STARTING TO GET EXCITED...}.

Sincerely,

[Frank Capra]
Owner

She's STARVING

After the 2pm call from day care when they told me she drank all 3 bottles in less than 5 hours, I promised to pick AK up earlier than usual so I could feed her.

At 3:40 I got another phone call informing me that Miss Louise spoke to the director (my favorite person!) and it was ILLEGAL for them to not have extra food on hand for the children and I had to pick AK up right away. I love my baby, very, very much. I do not want her to starve. And I really truly do appreciate that AK's teachers also care deeply about her well-being. But ILLEGAL? Give me a break.

Regardless, I told Miss Louise that I would leave the office right away to pick up AK. And I let her know that I would send in some frozen milk for them to put in the freezer for back-up. "Okay, I will check and see if that is okay. See you soon."

As I drove to rescue my starving (and yet, sleeping) baby, I was seething. First of all, since we have to send in prepared bottles and none of our kids eat "food" yet, do people send in cans of formula as back up for formula-fed babies? I don't know the answer to this, but I had never heard of it being done from the other moms. And second, how could the frozen milk not be okay? My child is breast fed. She doesn't eat formula. The only option is frozen milk, since I am not going to make an exception JUST for back up for day care.

I picked AK up, she was fine. Apparently she would have still been sleeping but they had a fire drill and had to pick her up and move her so she woke up. I hope that AK has grown significantly when I take her for her 4 month check up. Because if this isn't a growth spurt I am not quite sure what I am going to do.

This Little Piggy...

...already drank all three bottle of milk I sent in to school, and it is only 2 pm!

My Snotty Kids

Ah, yes, Fall arrived this week, bringing with it changing leaves, cooler temperatures, footy pajamas and the inevitable cold. AK has had a cold on and off since before starting day care; LP got socked yesterday with her first cold of the season. The good news is the LP is really good at blowing her nose, the bad news is I keep expecting AK to do the same thing, and that isn't really happening. Just like her sister before her, she hates the nose squeegee.

Last night started out pretty darn good in the sleeping department. LP was in bed by 9 and AK fell asleep at 9:05 after her bath. She woke up at 9:55 to be fed (just at the perfect moment for me to miss the end of The Biggest Loser) and blissfully returned to sleep. All was right and quiet in the house.

Until 2 am.

"Daddddeeeeeeeeeeeee! Dadddeeeeeeeeeeee!" How psyched was I that LP was calling the Hoos and not me? You have no idea. He went in to her room, wiped her nose and tucked her back in. He eventually sneaked out telling her he had to pee. Apparently she was wide awake. Fortunately, that didn't last long, although both the Hoos and I didn't fall right back to sleep anticipating more drama. We did get to hear the errant cough from both bedrooms.

At 4:50 AK called my number. Which was good, I needed to feed her (if you get my drift). I think it might have been a new record for her - almost 7 hours. She returned to sleep after eating and I returned to bed.

I got up at 6:30 when my alarm went off, showered and then gently coaxed AK into being "topped off" in her sleep. As I left her room and returned to mine to get dressed, a mussed haired little muffin called out, "Mommy, come here." I promised LP I would return as soon as I got dressed. And I did - in brown pants and a black shirt, which I fortunately noticed BEFORE leaving the house fifteen minutes late.

Snot, how I loathe thee.

Holy Holidays, Batman!

Next week is Rosh Hashana, the Jewish New Year. For the past couple of years the holiday has fallen on a weekend; this year it starts Monday at sundown and goes until Wednesday at sundown. Despite having used up all of my paid-time off during my maternity leave I will be taking the two days off work. I am actually rearranging my schedule and sending AK to day care on both Monday and Friday next week so I can come into the office to make up some hours.

While Rosh Hashana is a celebratory holiday, involving apples and honey (a combination we really should eat year round), family meals and the like, you still spend a significant amount of time in services. In reality, the services are what the holiday is all about. Being as how we have two small children, it poses a challenge for the Hoos and me. We both want to be in the service (okay, maybe want is a strong word - we both feel that it is important to be in the service), but we also know that it will be impossible for LP to sit through the entire thing.

We know it is too much to ask a 2 year old to spend 2-3 hours sitting still, listening to people sing in a language she can't understand. No soundless toy can keep a kid occupied in one place for that long. So we will take turns going in and out of the service on Tuesday. On Wednesday our niece and nephews will be in attendance and will hopefully keep an eye on their little cousin. It won't be the perfect way to attend synagogue, but we are going to do our best to make it work.

Other people make the decision to send their children to day care as if it is a regular day so that they can be fully focused during the services. I am not, in any way, trying to judge those people - they do what they need to do. However, the Hoos and I both feel it is important for LP and AK not to go to school. They need to start learning now that being Jewish does mean being different in some ways and and Rosh Hashana (and Yom Kippur the week after) are our high holy holidays. We don't work or go to school in order to celebrate, pray, atone, etc.

I am sure neither one of our daughters will get much out of the services this year, but I do hope that they will start to see the holidays as an intrinsic part of themselves and their Jewishness.

Mama Needs a Brand New Bag

I have used the heck out of my Vera Bradley pocketbook. My grandmother sent it to me 4 or 5 years ago (Thanks GG!) and supplemented the bag with a handy-dandy zip around wallet. I may even love the wallet more than the bag (and I really love the bag). And I pretty much use them both as my standards. Sure, I switch out purses every once in a while, but I always come back to the Vera bag because it is the right size and the wallet has just enough spaces and crevices to keep me relatively organized. Also, the bag has a zip top, which really helped keep prying hands out of my stuff until LP learned how to open zippers.

Unfortunately, it appears that the time to replace the bag is close at hand. When you can see the inside of the padded handles, I think perhaps it is necessary. And I am thinking of getting something a little bit bigger. Something that maybe could hold some diapers and wipes and a tightly sealed sippy so I don't have to carry a purse and a diaper bag around. Regardless of the bag, I am either going to reuse my zip-around wallet or purchase another similar one...I refuse to use wallets that don't fit cash (why would anyone design a wallet that is not long enough to take a bill in unfolded?) or have enough room for pictures of my beautiful kids.

Yesterday afternoon I took the girls to a local store to find a new pocketbook. LP was very excited to help me pick out a bag. Too bad they didn't have any. LP comforted me as we drove home, "I'm sorry, Mommy. No new pocketbook."

I am going to try to shop around on my lunch break this week and if that doesn't work I plan on ordering online next weekend. If you have any recommendations, do tell.

The Tortoise and the Hair

Once again, my hair is falling out. Post-partum hair loss sucked the first time around, and yup, it sucks again. I remember now why I decided to get my hair cut short last time - at least there will be short hairs everywhere (no, not that kind of short hair) instead of long hairs that can wrap around things. Oh, and in case it isn't bad enough that my hair is falling out in abundance on its own, AK is really good at pulling it out too. If only I could train her to only pull out the silver ones.

Infamous hunter AK stalks the evil gray hare...

Getting Oriented

After ignoring the request to send four bottles in for AK instead of just three, I received a new request on yesterday's daily sheet, "Please get larger nipples, [AK] gets frustrated when the milk doesn't come out fast enough and she then falls asleep."

First of all, thank you very much for noticing my nips, I think they are large enough considering they are the size of tea saucers; second of all, fine, whatever, I will get faster flowing nipples. I know that she is a fast eater at home and despite the fact that the nipples on the Nuby bottles are supposed to be "vari-flow", I can understand if a different nipple might better mimic the boob. In fact, I picked some Dr. Brown's stage 2 standard nipples at WalMart this morning.

On the positive side, last night was the open house at LP's and AK's school. We got to meet and greet with the teachers and other parents and hear more about their classrooms. Since there is only one of me and two classrooms for me to visit (the Hoos had an event for work last night, so even with the in-laws baby-sitting I was still on my own), I sent the majority of my time in LP's room. I did the infant room when LP was in it.

Regardless of time spent, Miss Louise and the other teachers in AK's room did inform me that they think she is on the cusp of holding her own bottle. That is pretty awesome in my opinion. They also let me know that she is adorable and very alert. What can I say, I make awesome babies?

LP's classroom required me to sit in a very uncomfortable toddler-sized chair. What is it about those chairs that make my kidneys ache? I was pleased to learn more about LP's teachers and day-to-day activities. I got the impression that everyone thinks LP is as cool and cute a kid as I do. But I would probably think that even if it wasn't true. Apparently at school when they wake the kids up after nap time, all they have to say to LP is, "Do you want to go potty?" and she jumps up and runs to it. If I ask if she wants to go potty she typically ignores me.

A good outcome was that the teachers offered to share their lesson plans and song lyrics so we can try to keep up at home. I always feel like a moron when LP requests a song that I don't know - except for "Hamda," a title she has given to a Hebrew song that I likely wouldn't sing even if I could - it is part of the Hoos' repertoire anyway. I just hope they have some songs other than five little monkeys jumping on the bed or swinging in the trees. They are already killing me.

Bite Me

So yesterday's daily day care sheet for AK had a note, "Please send four bottles for [AK]". When I picked her up they told me she was "very, very hungry."

Never mind that it hadn't even been three hours since she last ate and never mind that she was looking content, sucking away on her pacifier...

Oh, and never mind that I am PUMPING BREAST MILK and getting boobs to produce MORE than 15 ounces in 8 hours is 1. implausible, 2. ridiculous and 3. going to be even less likely in the coming months as she nurses less and eats more.

Bite me, Miss Louise.

Do I Know You?

Most of the time when you are pregnant - especially toward the end of your pregnancy - people notice. For me, it was very obvious. Because you are pregnant you sort of expect people to be nicer to you (e.g., hold the door while you slowly waddle to it from 20 feet away) and to ask all sort of questions (e.g., are you planning on having a natural birth?).

Now that I am no longer pregnant I sort of forget that all of these people that see me every day knew that I was pregnant. I am always shocked when someone in my office that I don't know goes beyond a polite greeting and asks me about my baby. "How do they know I recently had a baby?" I wonder. "Can they see my skin pouch?" Or worse, "AM I LEAKING?!?!" Then I recall that 4 months ago I was large and waddling and since I no longer am these people correctly assume I gave birth.

Little do they know that just by asking they are opening themselves up to having to see pictures of my daughters. Like all of you folks.

Feast for the Eyes

Thankful Not to Be Relegated to a Rest Room

I am thankful to have a lactation room at my office. It includes two chairs separated by curtains, a sink, and a mini-fridge. When I pumped with LP there were three of us that used the room. We all got along famously when our schedules overlapped - which was rare. We started a "wall of fame" over the sink with pictures of our babies.

This time around there are four of us that share the room. I am the latest addition to the crew having just arrived back at work two weeks ago. Two of the woman have been using the room for more than 6 months and have made themselves at home. They have rearranged the seats (still separated by curtains) brought in clocks and created "mood lighting" by utilizing lamps they brought in instead of the overhead lighting. And if our schedules should overlap they prefer not to talk while expressing.

To them, the lactation room is an oasis away from their desks.

To me, it is very utilitarian in purpose. Yes, it is beautiful that AK is nourished by her mommy's body, blah blah blah...but at work, I pump to make three bottles for her to drink the next day; I pump so that I don't leak and have embarrassing boob bulls-eyes; I pump to keep my production up; and I pump so I don't have horrific engorgement issues and breasts the size and consistency of boulders.

While I hope both of these women pump as long and as often as they want, I hope that they stop breast feeding before me and we don't overlap too often.

At least they kept up the wall of fame. AK's picture is now right next to her sister. Right where she should be:)

Snippets

Here are some snippets from recent conversations in our house:

LP: Mommy, I had dreams last night.
Me: Really? What did you dream about?
LP: Animals.
Me: What kind of animals?
LP: Blue ones.
Me: Like what?
LP: Dinosaurs.
LP: Did you have good dreams last night too?
___________________________________________________

Me: LP, see these butterflies on your undies [pull-ups]?
LP: Ya! Butterflies!
Me: When you pee in your undies the butterflies go away. Did the butterflies go away?
LP: (looks) Ya!
Me: Did you pee in your undies?
LP: Maybe.

____________________________________________________
Not a snippet, but an announcement. I am changing Dee's blog name to AK. 1. LP can now say AK's name correctly, so Dee no longer fits and 2. Several people have taken to calling AK "Dee" and we don't call her that (we do call LP "LP" and AK "AK").

We've Come a Long Way, Baby

The other day the Hoos was reminding me how - what's the word? - "itchy" I was in college. My parents would probably argue that my itchiness started well before college, so let's call it a draw with me admitting that a good word to describe me would have been "itchy".

One of the Hoos' first recollections of me was in our freshman English lit class saying to the professor, "Buck, this book sucked." His name was Buck, I wasn't being rude, just itchy. We didn't start dating until our sophomore year, so I am not sure if he temporarily forgot my itchiness or if he decided that I looked good enough in my t-shirt dresses that it didn't matter.

In a few weekends, GWU will be holding our 10 year reunion. This got me thinking about how I changed in college and in the years since. Maybe I am wrong, but I don't think many people would describe me as itchy nowadays. I might have my itchy moments, and I am certainly opinionated, and I will roll my eyes on occasion (okay, frequently, but those people deserve it), but I don't think itchy would be one of the first words to come to mind for those that are close to me now.

I don't know if motherhood has mellowed me or if age did it first. I am surprisingly patient with my children and I have learned how to keep my snark in check for when it is appropriate. Maybe that is really what itchiness is? Open snarkiness bordering on rude? Is itchiness a function of age? You are itchy until you know better? Thoughts?

Frozen in Time

When people ask me how old I am, my first instinct is to tell them 25. It is not that I am embarrassed about my real age, rather somewhere in my subconscious, I am stuck at 25. Maybe my 25th year was particularly eventful - I got engaged, married, made a long distance move, and started a new job; or maybe it was because on my 25th birthday time stood still due to the terrorist attacks.

It is really odd having your birthday on September 11th. It was my birthday long before the horrific events of that day, yet still people do not expect me to be too happy or to party too hardy (because I am such a wild child - har har har). Many people also don't like to wish me a happy birthday without also noting that the day is "bittersweet" as if acknowledging that the day has any alternative significance is somehow unpatriotic.

The good news is, in my house, my two little munchkins don't yet understand any of the significance of the date. When we ask LP whose birthday is coming up she responds, "Tuesday is my party." Today is Thursday, it is my birthday, and there is no party, but hopefully there will be lots of hugs and kisses waiting for me when I get home. Oh, and I just got a phone call where LP sang to me an original composition, "Mommy mom, mommy mom, mommy mommy, mommy, mom."

A Revelation

I am one day shy of 32 years old and yesterday I realized for the first time that HEELS MAKE YOU LOOK TALLER AND THINNER. Seriously, folks. I am five feet tall, I understood the concept of heels, but never did I realize that they could be truly transformative. Too bad most of my heels are open-toed. Now I have to spend my birthday money buying closed-toed heels to keep the illusion up all winter long.

Right Feeling, Wrong Reason

Okay, I admit it! I don't mind being back at work. Since last week was my first week back, everyone kept asking me how I was doing. I felt guilty admitting that I was fine. Of course I called day care twice a day to check on Dee and of course I drove like a mad woman on a mission when it was time to pick the girls up, but, really, I don't feel an immense guilt that my children - and especially my three-month-old - is in day care.

I am good at my job. I like the people I work with. I like feeling a sense of accomplishment when I complete tasks or contribute a thoughtful comment during a meeting. I know that my children are well taken care of. Dee drinks larger quantities and less frequently from a bottle at day care than at home; LP pees on the potty like a champ. And I have Fridays and Mondays with Dee.

What I missed most last week was having time to take care of things. There was no leisurely dinner prep during nap time, or laundry loads on quick trips to the basement. Errands could not be run with children in tow, instead waiting to be efficiently bundled into uber-runs during the weekend (still with children in tow).

I feel guilty for not feeling guilty.

I Stand Corrected and at Attention

First, I need to apologize to my mother. She did not buy the SquidSoap at Target because it was on clearance. My dad bought it at ShopRite because he had a coupon and they double coupons. I love my parents.

Yesterday was a glorious day. After the in-home confinement caused by the remnants of Hanna on Saturday, we had some much needed outdoor time yesterday. We went to the annual Norwalk Oyster Festival with the Hoos' parents and his brother's family. A nice time was had by all and lots of free tchotchkies were acquired by LP (because you can never have enough nerf footballs advertising the local banks, right?).

Last night we decided not to let the summer end too soon. The Hoos called his brother and asked if the family wanted to meet us at the beach for a pizza dinner. An agreement was reached, pizza was procured and the beach was descended upon. LP loved playing in the sand and pointing out the moon to her cousins, and the Hoos, his bro and our nephew O, loved catching snapper-blues (baby bluefish) in the surf.

As we were packing up to leave the beach - DEE LAUGHED FOR THE FIRST TIME! She has been goo-gooing and gah-gahing for a while, but she out and out giggled at me at the beach. And we even had witnesses. It was awesome.

Also awesome, but totally unrelated, apparently LP has the first of her 2-year molars. We didn't even know until the Hoos noticed it last week while brushing her teeth. Hopefully this means that the crankiness that accompanies this momentous occasion is moderate enough that we won't notice for the other three teeth.

Summer, I salute you.

Notice how Dee looks like a little koala clinging on to her big sis? Coincidentally there are little koalas on her outfit:)

Inked

A few months ago my mother brought us SquidSoap. Most likely she bought it because it was on clearance at Target and not because she thought I needed it. If you know my mom you will agree with this statement (sorry mom, it is true). Anyway, this is a product from Airborne that is supposed to teach kids about proper handwashing. Basically when you press down the pump you get some ink on your hand that won't disappear until you wash your hands with soap for at least 15-20 seconds.

Since LP has started using the potty she has also become really interested in frequently washing her hands. Hallelujah! I thought this would be a good time to bust out the fancy soap. Two hours and multiple hand washings later, I must admit that LP and I do not have the orange dot of ink that appears in the middle of your hand when using this product. Rather, OUR HANDS ARE ENTIRELY BRIGHT PINK.

No wonder it was on clearance at Target...

The Case of the Missing Vacuum

I have mentioned before that the Hoos is building a kayak in our basement. Occasionally this will require that he clean up after himself, so he brings our household vacuum downstairs. Usually, not a problem.

Today our cleaning woman arrived to make my house presentable until 4:30pm when LP arrives home and undoes all of her hard work. While she was here Dee and I went out to run some errands. As I am heading toward home my cell phone rings, "Hi, Amy. It is Gabby. Where is your vacuum?" (Imagine this with a Slovakian accent). I apologize that it is not where it belongs and tell her it is likely in the basement. "I look in the basement. It is not there." Since I am near home, I tell her to hold on and I will come and locate it. I then call the Hoos to confirm its location.

I immediately go down to the basement when I get home, not even turning on the light. I don't see the vacuum. I go upstairs to run on the light and finally find the vacuum tucked back in the shadows.

Gabby then tells me that she was scared looking around our basement. I figure 1. she didn't know where the light was (it is not in a place that you would associate with a basement light) and every one's basement looks creepy in the dark and 2. my basement is full of stuff and therefore scary in a figurative way. She shakes her head, "No, I mean in that room," pointing to the area of the basement where the Hoos keeps his tools. Here is a picture of what she saw when she was seeking out the missing air sucker:

Can you blame her? I think the Hoos' waders are scary too.

One Trick Ponies

LP's trick of the day is that she pees on the potty beautifully - but only at school. Yesterday, for the second day in a row, she peed on the potty FOUR times. At home, not so much. At least she has learned to pull down the pull-ups and reuse them when there isn't pee in them instead of tossing them. Maybe it will save me some green.

Dee is just the opposite. She rolls like a superstar at home; I think they don't believe me at school, because she hasn't done it there once. Of course, this could be because they don't put her on the floor much. Most of the other kids are bigger and they are afraid the boys will steamroll her if they put her on the floor. While I understand, I still think it is important for her to get tummy time and floor play. Today they assured me that they would work it out next week when a teacher returns from vacation.

My trick is staying sane. I am not really good at it.

Proud Mama

Both of my girls did great yesterday at day care.

Despite the fact that LP was (and is) clingy when the Hoos dropped her off, she had an "awesome" day according to Miss Shauna. In fact, SHE PEED ON THE POTTY FOUR TIMES! Seriously, at home she says she wants to go on the potty, removes her diaper, puts it in the trash, sits down, stands up and says, "All done!" and asks for mishies. At school they say the word potty, she pulls down a borrowed pair of pull-ups, pees and wipes herself. Is it common for kids to be potty trained at school but not at home? Oh, and she had a great time during dramatic play, especially when she is wearing the purple high heels.

Dee was a super star too. She slept well - no long naps though; Ate well, 12 ounces or so; and enjoyed the scenery. She was too overwhelmed to turn over in the classroom, but I am sure she will be back to rolling over in no time. She certainly does it at home enough. And last night she slept from 9:30 until 3:30. She might have gone longer, but I figured since I was up to rescue her from the turtle position I might as well nurse her too.

While I am very proud of my daughters, I am hoping that I will be rewarded with more time in the day. I have no idea how I am supposed to pick both of them up, play with them, nurse Dee and prepare dinner all between 5 and 7pm. Last night I prepped a lasagna that only needs to be put in the oven once I get home tonight; beyond that I see lots of take-out in our future.

State of Being

I am...

• back in the office
• missing my babies
• happy that Dee has been turning over like crazy
• exhausted from turning Dee back over time and time again in the middle of the night
• thrilled that Dee is taking a bottle
• concerned that she only drank 3 ounces this morning (once you can measure it can make you crazy, maybe she usually only has 3 ounces in the morning - how would I know? I haven't had my boobs calibrated lately)
• worried that Dee seems to have some congestion
• curious about how LP is doing in her new "older toddler" classroom
• psyched that I pumped 6 ounces this morning
• wondering just what it is that I do around here
• trying to figure out how the heck I am going to manage everything and then some
• not looking forward to a group lunch meeting