Mrs. Flinger: A work in progress

UPDATE TO Mrs. Flinger October 16, 2015

Because the Universe has a wicked sense of humor, after this delcaration, my blog threw up all over my last upgrade.

So I'm starting over using Craft. Turning 40 and kid entering Jr High next year, sometimes it's just time for a change. These archives will still exist in the way the last child goes off to college and their room is the same for 20 years, but it's just time to move forward.

“IT” Oct 08, 2009

#Family Life


I sat on the plane next to a young gal, mid-twenties she would tell me later, who reminded me a lot of myself at her age. Realizing “her age” wasn’t so far gone, but knowing it was still long enough away to form distant memories and wistful longings in my mind.

“You’re married? With two kids? When did you get married?” she asks with wide brown eyes and a smile that reaches her ears.

“When I was 26. But I knew him for years and years. He was my best friend.” I reply trying to condense our 13 year pre-story in to a sentence.

“How did you know he was the ONE?” she asks.

“I knew.”

I hated that answer when I was her age.

But the truth is, my husband is the single person in the world I don’t get sick of the more time I’m around him. We fight, sure, we drive each other completely batty sometimes, we annoy the everlivingshit out of the other one, but I can’t stand not having him around.

The house is so much… less… without him.

Everything is so much .... less… without him.

Together we’ve worked through graduate school, birthing and raising two babies, and passing one (soon to be two) engineering exams. We’ve purchased houses, sold houses, and moved 5 times as a family.

And that’s just since marriage.

Let’s discount the 20 years we’ve known each other and the 14 years it took to make that commitment in the first place.

So when we decided, together, to buy a new house and take advantage of a sticky situation with some benefits of “the current market,” we knew it could take a while.

I mean, comon, the guy can’t buy a trashcan without a spreadsheet.

Imagine my shock, then, when we go for a drive at our lunch hour to “scope out the neighborhood” we’d ideally love to live, and find our dream.

I’ve never felt this way about a house before.

He clearly never has either.

Or a person for that matter.

We walk around noting the emptiness. We walk all over the grounds, picturing the children playing and each other fixing up the yard. We talk about where we would put the furniture as we peer through the spider-web windows.

It’s so…... “Up” ..... in a way.

The house is ours from first sight. We’re not sure about financing yet, if the foundation is sound, if we can even do this. But for some reason, this particular house, this one time in our lives, there isn’t s spreadsheet, a lengthy discussion, a hesitation.

This one time I got to see my husband fall in love on first sight.

And I was right there with him falling in love, too.

I hope we found our home.

Our home.

Something tells me this is “it.”

I just know.


Nobody tells you when you grow up, you’ll want to be just like your kids Oct 05, 2009

#Family Life


My daughter is so dynamic.

So joyful.

So lovely.

She feels so intensely.

She cares so deeply.

She loves fully.

I watch her play and I wonder when I grew up. When did I stop running in the leaves or spinning in circles to feel the wind on my face? When did I decide socks had to match and outfits had accessories?


People sometimes ask my children what they want to be when they grow up. They have answers, “A mommy! A train! A tree!” They’ll make those decisions later.

Much later.

And then, one day, even as they hold a job they adore and work with people they like, they’ll watch their own children and finally realize:

When I grow up, I want to be just like you.

Women in Tech, a living example in PHP Oct 05, 2009

#She's Gone Geek Again


class nerds {

public static $boy = 'stands to pee';
public $girl = 'sits to pee';

public static function getBoy() { echo self::$boy; }
public static function setBoy() { self::$boy = 'Tech Boy'; }
public function getGirl() { echo $this->

girl; }       

$ob = new nerds();
nerds::getBoy();    // output: stands to pee  
$ob->getBoy();  // output: stands to pee
$ob->getGirl();  // output: sits to pee
          // girls are never static thus you can use the $this->girl

class techgirl extends nerds {
public function lesson() {
$this->x = 'women are not objects';

$techgirl = new Techgirl

echo $techgirl->lesson();  //outputs women are not objects.



Next up: Bunnies! Fluffy Pink Hearts! And the cuttest kiddos ever!

The downfall of being a woman in tech Oct 02, 2009

I’m here at the EE Roadshow here in Seattle. I’m thrilled to be with so many fabulous developers in one location.

It’s a freakin’ GEEK FESTIVAL!


I’m glad to see women being represented here. There must be at least twelve of us in a full room of 200? :: fist pump :: GIrl power.

This, being the first and possibly one time ever, the women’s restroom wouldn’t have a line longer than security at Sea-Tac airport, they only have non-gender specific “washrooms”. This means the boys now stand in line and the women STILL stand in line.

Which, ok.

But this sharing a bathroom with men is something I can hardly do at home, let alone with 180 strangers.

Strangers who happen to own the pipe version.

Who do not aim.

At all.

So men, yo, do a girl a favor. LIFT THE LID. Aim, get’er done, and then CLOSE THE LID.

Don’t spray and run.

Do this sister a solid: Don’t make me squat.

Thank you.