Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Husband of the Year

Here is a list I have been compiling of nice things Kevin has done for me recently.

He got up and refilled my glass of water when I noticed it was out, just so I wouldn't have to move from the couch.

He watched Lady and the Tramp with me.

He gave me his last piece of cake (not that I am hinting for the last piece that is sitting in there now.)

He bought me flowers when I told him I was having a bad day.

He gives back rubs.

He offered foot rubs (albeit with a look of trepidation).

He picks up food when I am tired or craving something.

When I was sick, he was very kind in taking care of me, even offering to go to the store after midnight to buy me the only cold medicine I am allowed to take.

He tells me that I am not following any of the negative pregnancy stereotypes, despite the fact that I have eaten more chocolate in the last six months than in all the rest of my years possibly combined.

He ate the noodles I undercooked.

He went dancing with me for our anniversary.

He backed up my computer after I went to bed, because I had gotten the blue screen of death that day.

And about a month ago, we had this conversation:
Audrey: I was going to ask you something, but I forgot my question.
Kevin: The answer is 'yes'. Yes, I love you more today than on the day I married you.

Wednesday, January 25, 2012

Certain Kinds of Magic

In December, when I began training my replacement at the Co-op, I felt certain she would be a bad fit. Finally, Kevin and I talked it over and agreed that I should offer to come back after my Christmas vacation and work as a temp to train someone else. The pay rate for temps is half of what I was making hourly. I made the offer. I received a counter offer. I was offered my regular pay plus a thousand dollar bonus to come back and train someone else. I accepted the offer.

I am convinced that this blessing poured out from those windows the Lord promised to leave open. I also felt that this money was to help with easing the strain other charitable donations had put on us. We had been called upon to give, and we gave. Then the Lord gave back.

Just as I was finishing up at work, I got an email about another good place where my money could go. And I knew, knew, that the extra money from my bonus was meant for this. Kevin and I juggled some numbers and found ourselves able to give, again.

That's when I found the piano.

I have always wanted a piano. Always wanted, but kind of always knew that I'd never be able to afford it or to justify the expense for a beginner. But in my head floated golden evenings with Jocilyn playing hymns or Tarythe playing Broadway musicals, while the rest of us stood around them and sang. I craved a piano like I craved that golden light of memory. But it was never going to happen.

Shelly told me about a piano adoption website, and on the day that I decided to sign away the last of my bonus, I found a piano for free in Austin. Now, it's not really for free, as I have to pay moving costs and tuning, but it is cheaper than any alternative I could imagine.

And today, that piano is sitting in my dining room. It's not fancy, it's not new, but it's mine.

And I know, the way Harry knew that Ron had to be the one to stab the Horcrux, that this was a gift for obeying the Lord and for giving what I had to give. As King Benjamin taught, when we keep the commandments of the Lord, he does immediately bless us.

I have come to understand something of certain kinds of magic.

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Busy

I've been busy. Very busy. And what's more, I don't have Internet at home yet. So I haven't posted. And I have been incredibly lax on sending pictures of the house. But they're coming. Just as soon as I clean up my mess heaped in the living room, then you can see what Kevin and I have done so far. You'll have to ignore the fact that two of the three curtain panels were not ironed before they were hung up (item #74 on my to-do list). Bedroom pictures will follow after I hang curtains, pictures and the giant mirror.

I currently have enough projects lined up to keep me busy until I die. Assuming I die at age 148. I won't tell you how many hours I spent trying to find curtains for the bedroom before deciding to make them out of sheets. You'd be ashamed. You'd think, is this the same Audrey that preaches anti-materialism? Yes, you have a fair point, but please remember that in the end, I am making them out of sheets. Cheap ones. I am going to join the craft club at my community center, so I can socialize and be productive. Luckily, I also have friends who are willing to hang out and watch me pick stitches on pillow cases. I don't have to be entertaining to maintain relationships.

And speaking of entertaining, we meant to have a house-warming party, but at the rate we're going in getting rid of clutter, it seems Kevin's birthday bash will be the party's raison d'etre. Said extravaganza will have to take place this month, as Kevin will be gone for work from early October to early November and again from mid November to mid December. That's right, I will be without husband for two months this fall. Possibly this is when I will get my many projects done.

Kevin also has had his fair share of projects. Our yard looks beautiful, thanks to his weeding and mowing efforts in the face of hostile fire ant attacks. He anchored our beautiful new bookshelves to the wall (we do plan to have children climbing them eventually), and he plans to install our garage door opener. While I have proven myself very good at handing him tools while he's on the ladder, I think he plans to invite male friends along, so he too can socialize without being entertaining. It's a universal right that I can't deny him.

Some things that have been ignored but will soon be taking my time include writing--every Wednesday evening--and applying for Graduate School. Kevin (the most supportive wonderful husband I've ever had!) has agreed that I should not be stuck at the Co-op, that I need a chance to try my hand at writing, and that seeking a master's degree in sociology is a worthy growth opportunity. So, while I will stick it out in my current position until the end of my verbal contract, wheels are turning and plans are in the works for post-resignation pursuits.

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

Job Panic

I have been experiencing some serious job panic for the last week.

Kris quit. She has been the VP of Merchandising for eight years now. I have reported to her, either directly or indirectly, my entire 3.75 years at the company. I have liked her and been afraid of her by turns. I have always respected her. When she left, I surprised myself by crying like a little girl. I miss her, as a person, and definitely as a leader in the company. The entire store came to a screeching halt when Kris walked out the door.

The only person who doesn't seem to think that her departure has doomed our company is Mr. Mitchell, the president, whose bad decisions and sexist attitude caused Kris's departure.

When she left, I began to panic. What is this place without Kris? She carried it. She did two people's jobs. She was the buffer between the narcissistic president and the rest of the store. She was the buffer between our offices and the incompetence of Russell Athletic. She fielded the nonsense that the rest of us just complained about. Now that buffer is gone.

I immediately began to apply for any job on Craigslist that would accept me without my name on my shirt. I haven't decided that I want to leave my company, and it wasn't as though any of those positions screamed my name. But I panicked. I needed to know that I had a life boat should this ship start to sink.

I learned some things. I have a good resume if I want an administrative assistant position. I have had three call backs for interviews. I also have a good resume to become a retail buyer. I have three years' experience in buying, and I worked for Kris, whose name means something in these circles. Alas that Austin is not a retail center. I could have a great job in Houston or Dallas, but in Austin I am left with options as a purchasing agent for construction companies, and that's not where I want to go.

I guess the biggest problem is that I don't want any of these jobs. I have no ambitions to work as a secretary or a supply purchaser. I also don't want to stay here, not forever. The Co-op was never the long term plan. It is a place holder, a way to pay bills until I begin my career. When I left school, I was either going to marry Kevin and become a full-time mother, or I was going to grad school to become a teacher so I could write in the summers. I work here until one of those happens.

But I don't know if I can keep working here. It is a good job. But just in the last two days, I have had enough ridiculousness from both Mr. Mitchell and Russell Athletic that I don't know how long it will remain a good job. And if it becomes a bad job, I don't want to replace it with another filler position, I want to start working on my plans. I want--in order of desire--to be a mother, to write, to go to graduate school, to teach.

The hitch is that motherhood is terribly unpredictable and not in my power. I may get a call back tomorrow or never. I don't know if I have the time to finish gradutate school, let alone recoup the investment. The same goes for teacher training. What I would love to do, if it were just me, is quit my job and write. I want to be a writer. That is my dream. But it's not just me. I have a husband and a house, and it wouldn't be fair for me to stay home and play all day.

And I guess that leaves the Co-op. So I really hope that it does not fall apart around here.

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Door

We have our closing date on our house! July 28th. We get to do the official walk-through on the 21st.

The builders also let us know that they accidentally painted our front door the same color as our shutters, while it was supposed to be the same color as the siding. After I saw the picture, I asked them not to correct the error. I really like the dark door.