Saturday, February 17, 2007

You Do Not Cross a Sugarbaker Woman

As this pregnancy winds down there are thousands of things to do and no time or energy to get them all done. It’s like my time and spatial awareness have decreased to tortoise speed. I’ve made an ambitious nesting list that serves to both remind and annoy me. I intend to get 25 things done everyday and I am lucky to get 3 completed. I need to reorganize my house from top to bottom with no Container Store nearby and an IKEA that isn't open yet. Any ideas on where to grab cute boxes or baskets that perfectly match my decor and were made by Malaysian children? (I'm cheap.)
Also, I keep forgetting everything. I’ve missed two really great parties this way and countless flaking on friends. Concentrating at work is hard and I feel like I’m dropping the ball--as if it’s an outstanding effort to actually complete a thought or project.
If I happen to sit down I usually fall asleep. I’m sure this is natural preparation for the extraordinary sleep deprivation we are about to endure, but it makes you feel a little useless as well. So my advanced apology for not updating as often as it occurs to me. The thought occurring is one thing. Moving my body from whatever position it has come to rest in just to reach my computer is requiring a disproportionate amount of energy (or at least, I am unwilling to expend it.)


Sadly, we won the battle but have lost the war. Remember this? I went through a very large bottle of brake fluid all the while in deep denial: surely, it’s just that my very small car needs a lot of brake fluid to fill up the lines, not that there’s a leak, oh no. After all the stages of grief, not to mention a near accident, I realized that we needed help. I took the car in to the repair place. “What’s the problem?” the mechanic asked. I said in a rueful voice, “My car is hemorrhaging brake fluid.” That made him laugh—and if you can make a mechanic laugh, a crash test dummy gets its wings.


Late Thursday afternoon a friend at work was in my office discussing some of the funny things that had happened that week (sorry, no details will be provided.) He mentioned that when he first started at the company he was absolutely terrified of me. “I was so scared if I ever had to come talk to you.” I started laughing. He continued, “I thought, ‘Here is a woman that not only has a comprehensive understanding of the business, but has a command of the English language that is fearsome.’ Honestly!” I said, “You were really scared?” He nodded. I laughed, “That has to be the sweetest thing I’ve heard in a long time. How kind of you to say something like that!”
Is that bad? I don’t mind being feared, not one bit. It makes me feel like I’m growing to be more and more like my mom. I was always awed that while teaching MBA students, or Army officers, she had them all cowering in her 5 foot presence. I hated that growing up my friends were scared of her, but now I think it’s cool. The little snots should be scared of mom!



~j. said...

I can't decide if the funny things at work will remain a mystery so that you don't get dooced, or if they include someone's having been dooced.

Azúcar said...

That I don't get dooced. It's just not good form to discuss elements of work in a public format.

more caffeine, please said...

I know, I know, we've discussed my love of Wal-Mart and everyone else's disdain for it, but they have good containers! Cheap! Rollback anyone?

Big Lots is also great for cheap temporary containers until you can get those Ikea lovelies.

And as far as how you're feeling, you just take advantage of this pregnancy time and tell everyone to deal with it. If it's any consolation, in no time at all you'll be soooooooo comfy in your bed, on your stomach. For about an hour. Before it's feeding time. Again. But at least you're comfy. I am.

b. said...

Ummm...even though I'm a whole decade older than you, I was a little afraid of you and your presence and your writing and your great hair and your wit and your Fash-On, and something that you did at dinner the other night and was too afraid to come and tell you that you were in the wrong (when really, you were in the not so wrong category-as soon as I get me some jibblets I will write you a formal apology on my bloglet) but then I realized it doesn't matter-good people are good people-we are the same.....only I am older, and I wear croc's.

Sarah said...

I think I saw that joyful crash test dummy flying through the L.A. skies tonight - well done!

My mom definitely didn't balk at letting people tremble before her. She had a personal trainer when I was in high school and had some serious biceps going on. Whenever my male friends would come to the house she'd challenge them to arm wrestle her. She was the grunting, yelling type when she got in a good match and all of my guy friends were in total awe. I was liquid embarrassment at the time but now realize that she's freaking awesome!

Haley said...

When I met you, I did not fear you.. I admired you and your hair and your cooking and your tiny belly. :)

Rachel said...

Sorry, dude, I just tagged you. Check out my blog and see what I mean.

sue-donym said...

I too was scared. Too classy, too confident, too much fabulous jewelry. Glad I got to know you. Now I am just a little ascareded.

"That has to be the sweetest thing I’ve heard in a long time." I love that.

metamorphose said...

Dang it! Lost my comment! I think I said this:

I like how you now think it's cool having the little snots be scared of mom -makes me rethink how my friends were scared of my mom. A great new perspective. Love it!

kerri ann said...

When you came to work with us my fear was the unknown. I didn't know what you would be like but then you sat down and asked me to tell you everything I knew and I knew from that moment on you were magical. I'm still a little bit afraid of misspelling things in your presence though.

Queen Scarlett said...

I love reading your posts because you use words the way I love to read them...and... that's why I loved Neal A Maxwell...I miss him.

Hilarious Mechanic story... the imagery you created with one sentence...perfect.

Doesn't FEAR in the scriptures mean Respect? Bravo then!

Geo said...

Your wings joke is hilarious.

luckyzmom said...

I always said that it is much easier to carry them on the outside than it is to carry them on the inside.