Last night as you were falling asleep, you could barely keep your eyes open (much like your mother after 9pm on two glasses of wine) and you asked for your story. “You want to know about the day you were born?”
Your eyes lit up and you stuck your tongue out in that way you do when you get excited and I think you’re sort of proving evolution isn’t just a theory.
My Grandfather was an electrician in a mill. He often explained his lack of hearing from years of being around loud machines. “GRANDPA! TURN DOWN THE TEE VEE!” He would wave a hand in our direction, mutter something completely incomprehensible and turn the volume on the TV up.
Last weekend a friend of mine spoke of reducing the noise in his life. As a single man who enjoys many activities outside the computer, I thought it was a strange, though admirable, statement. So often the level of noise in my life is beyond was I can tolerate. Children whining and needing immediate attention pulling on my arm, Co-Workers on IM, twitter, facebook, email, friends asking about this weekend. It’s not that the noise is bad, each in of itself, it’s that together there... Read more
For years I’ve been a minority in our field. In graduate school I was one of two females. The program pushed Java but I studied PHP and my co-female-student studied XML. Why is that? Why would the two women select another language than the standard object oriented fare served to the students? Is it possible there is a feminine friendly language that helps retain women in computer science?
This is the future of our field. The is the future of the web. Bringing technology, the joy of development, the art of mobile application development: these are the true places women can excel and find balance in a male dominated field.
Six Mothers’ Days.
Thirty-five years of life.
Nine years of marriage.
52 throw up accidents.
4,329,784 whiny complaints.
89 wet sheets. 610 school lunches.
423 sleepless nights.
One homemade card.
He watches the truck with a camper pass us on the road. “I wanna go camping again. Are we EVER going to go camping again?” My three year old is a drama queen sometimes. I laugh. “Yes, we’ll go camping, I promise. We’ll go when it gets sunny again.”
“It’s NEVER going to be sunny again!” He whines. He also loves to whine.
“Oh, it will,” I assure him, “Probably July 5th.” The classic NorthWest joke doesn’t mean anything to him.
“Hey, I’m wearing yellow! Maybe I can be your sunshine?” he beams a little.
He starts to point out all the yellow. There’s a yellow sign! And a yellow truck! And yellow flowers!
Suddenly there is so much yellow that... Read more
“She is very bright. Intelligent and creative; loving and kind. She seems to be a natural in math and science but her artistic abilities and imagination give her a great balance. She’s very social. She is unaware of the politics of other girls in her grade. She is a tender soul who can not sit still.
She has trouble focusing and might need some work in this area. She is often tired in the afternoon. She seems young for her age.
Overall she is a joy to work with. While she is a bit bouncy and can have difficult finishing a task before starting another, making her very inefficient, she’s got a lot of potential and you should be proud of her.”
As it turns out? She really is my kid.
Even if she doesn’t look it.
The heat kicks back on and I know it won’t warm me. The walk to the car will be wet and cold. I wear a layer of my body like an extra coat of energy, just waiting, hoping to be used. I drink another cup of coffee and turn the heat as high as I can while I drive. I will struggle with children, putting coats and hoods and boots on and splashing back to the car again. The effort nearly crushes me. It is May. The realization nearly takes my breath away. It is May. Like last year, the year before that, and the year prior to that and so on, it rained on Easter here. Shocker. I did manage to click some pretty terrible photos with my iPhone for you. You’re welcome. Behold! The creepiest bunny in the history of all bunnies! As we prepared to set out the goods for the children the night before Easter, we discovered some mice pellets in our pantry. Let me rephrase that, WE FOUND OUT WE HAVE MICE IN OUR PANTRY. As in EATING OUR FOOD. Easter mice: Trumps creepy bunny. Instead of leaving the candy and goodies on the table for the children, we...
I have these sticky notes. They line my computer background, they clutter my virtual desktop, the travel in my portable office. They are text files I keep open to remind myself of my goals, todo lists, small notes. I have one that I keep open nearly all day, every day. It is titled, “People I want to emulate.” On this text file I keep a very short list of people I admire and dare to imitate. It’s like my own version of the, “What Would Jesus Do” bracelet. What would Amanda say to this quest I’m on? Would Scott Berkun forget to submit a speaking proposal? It’s been one of those weeks. The kind that I blame my parents for setting my expectations of life too high. Why the hell did they tell me I could be anything I wanted? That I could achieve! And that I was smart! And OH SO ABLE TO DO ANYTHING I WANT! ‘Cause that’s just a mid-life crisis waiting to happen. And here I am: mid-life. crisising. I enjoy my work. I enjoy my children. I enjoy the sunshine. But I can’t figure out where I want to live. I still don’t know exactly what...
On being S.A.D. 02/May/2011
Chicks, Bunny Ears and Sugar. (This is not about the playboy mansion.) 27/Apr/2011
Sticky Notes 18/Apr/2011
No you can’t be president. 15/Apr/2011
It is May. The realization nearly takes my breath away.
It is May.
I did manage to click some pretty terrible photos with my iPhone for you.
Behold! The creepiest bunny in the history of all bunnies!
Easter mice: Trumps creepy bunny.
Instead of leaving the candy and goodies on the table for the children, we... Read more
What would Amanda say to this quest I’m on?
Would Scott Berkun forget to submit a speaking proposal?
Why the hell did they tell me I could be anything I wanted?
That I could achieve! And that I was smart! And OH SO ABLE TO DO ANYTHING I WANT!
‘Cause that’s just a mid-life crisis waiting to happen. And here I am: mid-life. crisising.