And I wonder how people picture me when they're on conference call with me...
Sometimes...
Sometimes this is what I look like when I'm at work.
And I wonder how people picture me when they're on conference call with me...
And I wonder how people picture me when they're on conference call with me...
Gulliver Loves...
It's time again for a little Gulliver Loves section. Here we go!
Gulliver loves football. Yesterday we got together with the family for an Easter egg hunt in the park. Gulliver was the most adorable baby ever, toddling over to the eggs in the grass, putting the egg in his basket, taking the egg out of the basket, putting the egg back in the basket... you get the idea. It was generally awesome and heart-warming. At the end of the day's festivities something caught little Gulliver's attention. His cousin Commander Cody was tossing a football with Uncle Elvis. He was absolutely riveted and wanted nothing more than to take his own turn and get his hands on that ball! So sure enough, because he is our only child and we are still relatively new parents, immediately after our day in the park, we went out and bought him his very own football. Not a baby football, either. A real football. Goodness knows that Murray and I know not a thing about football, but if Gulliver wants it, Gulliver gets it! (Apologies to our future fourth child as you are reading this. Sorry for the hand-me-downs. And sorry for not running out and buying any toy or item that grabs your attention.)
Gulliver loves milk. Of course he loves milk. But the funny thing about milk is that he calls it cracker. I don't even know how this happened. Sure, I used the word cracker fairly indiscriminately (pretzels, crackers, teddy grahams, cookies, bread, etc.) but whatever I called "cracker" tended to have flour as a main ingredient. So really, I don't know how "milk" became "cracker." But he says it a lot. He'll figure it out eventually.
Gulliver loves Grover. Remember Gulliver's Grover? Well, this little buddy has a special place in Gulliver's heart. He snuggles with Grover, which he's never done with any other stuffed toy. And he loves when we kiss Grover's nose, too. That cracks him up.
Speaking of kisses, Gulliver loves kisses. You can just say, "Kisses!" and he tilts his face up to yours and accepts a kiss. THIS IS LIKE CRACK COCAINE, by the way.
Gulliver also figured out what hugs are. Crazy how he picked up on that. You can say, "Go give your dad a hug!" and he'll go over and hug Murray's legs. So cute.
Gulliver loves bucking bronco. I get to play this with him. I don't do the traditional horse thing. I get it so that he flops onto my back, belly first, with his legs wrapping around my neck and head, and then I buck him off. It's great fun.
Gulliver loves brushing his teeth. What age are you supposed to be brushing their teeth, anyway? He has plenty. He has about four molars, four top and four bottom, and is cutting his incisors. A lot of the time, I get ready while he's in the bathtub, so he sees me go through my routine. And he wanted my toothbrush once after he got out of the bath, and stuck it right in his mouth. (And if you know Gulliver, you know that he generally doesn't stick TOO much in his mouth.) So since I have a whole stock of extra toothbrushes (in the hopes that people come to visit us, and in case those people forget their toothbrushes---it's a little bizarre, I know, but at least it's genuine!), I unwrapped a full adult-sized toothbrush and gave it to him. He now loves brushing his teeth.
Gulliver loves the ants. And it's a good thing, because no matter what we do, they seem to come back every year. We had our house sprayed this winter, so they are actually not as bad as they usually are, but they do run along where the carpet meets the kitchen tile. And sometimes, I catch Gulliver sitting at that exact spot, staring at the floor, mesmerized. He never actually does anything to the ants. He just watches.
Gulliver loves the stairs and he is an expert at going up and down (always with direct supervision) at this point. I think he loves them so much because they're usually gated off.
Gulliver loves outside! He's such a big boy now (and a pro walker!) that we can do fun things like take him to parks and stuff. And he loves it. He especially loves picking up dirt, sticks, and leaves, and offering it as gifts.
Gulliver still says "Do What?" He still says "Nanana! Nana! Nanananananana!" (Banana.) He still says Cracka (but as we've seen, this means milk, in addition to cracker).
Gulliver's new trick is "No, no, no." You'd think that we were bad parents, telling him no all the time. Instead, we are bad parents who suddenly started singing "Try to make me go to rehab, I said no no no." (MURRAY WOULD LIKE ME TO INTERJECT RIGHT HERE AND LET YOU KNOW THAT WE ARE NOT TOP-40S PARENTS.) Something triggered it, and for some reason I sang it, and wagged my finger, "No, no, no." Gulliver picked up on that fun immediately, and wagged his finger, too. No, no, no!
Gulliver is AWESOME.
Gulliver loves the ants.
Gulliver loves football. Yesterday we got together with the family for an Easter egg hunt in the park. Gulliver was the most adorable baby ever, toddling over to the eggs in the grass, putting the egg in his basket, taking the egg out of the basket, putting the egg back in the basket... you get the idea. It was generally awesome and heart-warming. At the end of the day's festivities something caught little Gulliver's attention. His cousin Commander Cody was tossing a football with Uncle Elvis. He was absolutely riveted and wanted nothing more than to take his own turn and get his hands on that ball! So sure enough, because he is our only child and we are still relatively new parents, immediately after our day in the park, we went out and bought him his very own football. Not a baby football, either. A real football. Goodness knows that Murray and I know not a thing about football, but if Gulliver wants it, Gulliver gets it! (Apologies to our future fourth child as you are reading this. Sorry for the hand-me-downs. And sorry for not running out and buying any toy or item that grabs your attention.)
Gulliver loves milk. Of course he loves milk. But the funny thing about milk is that he calls it cracker. I don't even know how this happened. Sure, I used the word cracker fairly indiscriminately (pretzels, crackers, teddy grahams, cookies, bread, etc.) but whatever I called "cracker" tended to have flour as a main ingredient. So really, I don't know how "milk" became "cracker." But he says it a lot. He'll figure it out eventually.
Gulliver loves Grover. Remember Gulliver's Grover? Well, this little buddy has a special place in Gulliver's heart. He snuggles with Grover, which he's never done with any other stuffed toy. And he loves when we kiss Grover's nose, too. That cracks him up.
Speaking of kisses, Gulliver loves kisses. You can just say, "Kisses!" and he tilts his face up to yours and accepts a kiss. THIS IS LIKE CRACK COCAINE, by the way.
Gulliver also figured out what hugs are. Crazy how he picked up on that. You can say, "Go give your dad a hug!" and he'll go over and hug Murray's legs. So cute.
Gulliver loves bucking bronco. I get to play this with him. I don't do the traditional horse thing. I get it so that he flops onto my back, belly first, with his legs wrapping around my neck and head, and then I buck him off. It's great fun.
Gulliver loves brushing his teeth. What age are you supposed to be brushing their teeth, anyway? He has plenty. He has about four molars, four top and four bottom, and is cutting his incisors. A lot of the time, I get ready while he's in the bathtub, so he sees me go through my routine. And he wanted my toothbrush once after he got out of the bath, and stuck it right in his mouth. (And if you know Gulliver, you know that he generally doesn't stick TOO much in his mouth.) So since I have a whole stock of extra toothbrushes (in the hopes that people come to visit us, and in case those people forget their toothbrushes---it's a little bizarre, I know, but at least it's genuine!), I unwrapped a full adult-sized toothbrush and gave it to him. He now loves brushing his teeth.
Gulliver loves the ants. And it's a good thing, because no matter what we do, they seem to come back every year. We had our house sprayed this winter, so they are actually not as bad as they usually are, but they do run along where the carpet meets the kitchen tile. And sometimes, I catch Gulliver sitting at that exact spot, staring at the floor, mesmerized. He never actually does anything to the ants. He just watches.
Gulliver loves the stairs and he is an expert at going up and down (always with direct supervision) at this point. I think he loves them so much because they're usually gated off.
Gulliver loves outside! He's such a big boy now (and a pro walker!) that we can do fun things like take him to parks and stuff. And he loves it. He especially loves picking up dirt, sticks, and leaves, and offering it as gifts.
Gulliver still says "Do What?" He still says "Nanana! Nana! Nanananananana!" (Banana.) He still says Cracka (but as we've seen, this means milk, in addition to cracker).
Gulliver's new trick is "No, no, no." You'd think that we were bad parents, telling him no all the time. Instead, we are bad parents who suddenly started singing "Try to make me go to rehab, I said no no no." (MURRAY WOULD LIKE ME TO INTERJECT RIGHT HERE AND LET YOU KNOW THAT WE ARE NOT TOP-40S PARENTS.) Something triggered it, and for some reason I sang it, and wagged my finger, "No, no, no." Gulliver picked up on that fun immediately, and wagged his finger, too. No, no, no!
Gulliver is AWESOME.
Gulliver loves the ants.
Don't get bent, TAX MAN!
So we have a tax man. The first time I met him, I was struck by how much he looked like Dustin Hoffman. I mean, he REALLY looked like Dustin Hoffman! So we started calling him Dustin Hoffman, and to this day (two years later, third round of taxes) we still call him Dustin Hoffman:
"Murray, can you call Dustin Hoffman and set up an appointment please?"
Like that.
The funny thing is that each time we actually see him in person, I am struck by how much he does NOT look like Dustin Hoffman. The fact of the matter is that over the year between our appointments with him, my mental image of him actually becomes Dustin Hoffman. So whenever we see him, I'm brought back to reality, and that reality is that our accountant is not, in fact, Dustin Hoffman.
BUT, our accountant is wonderful. Do you want to know why he is wonderful? Because my whole life, I have been fairly anxiety-free except for when it comes to money, and how much I suck at managing it. This anxiety is pretty much cured now that I'm married to Murray and can delegate most money management things to him. But I get slightly anxious during tax time still. But every time we meet with our accountant, a great weight is lifted off of my soul, as he speaks very calming words of how this is allllllll okay, and it's nooooooooot a big deal. In fact, the first time we met with him, I had a confession of a financial sin to share with him. This was a (I thought) weighty financial matter that caused me fear and panic any time it popped into my mind for YEARS. YEARS! And the first time we met with Dustin Hoffman and I shared my little secret with him, he actually told me that it wasn't a problem. At all. No big deal. At all. And in fact, everything was okay, and I didn't even have to do anything to fix my tax error from years and years ago. And it was like absolution and one of the biggest burdens I've ever carried was just LIFTED FROM MY SOUL.
I love Dustin Hoffman.
Each year, he takes our financial information and does our taxes for us. And we end up getting more back than we would if we did them ourselves. AND it saves us time. And saves me anxiety. This year because of the self-employment thing, I thought for sure it was going to be a big complicated mess. But it isn't. It is wonderful, wonderful, wonderful. And easy.
Let me know if you want his REAL name, not his Dustin Hoffman name, and I'll refer you to him. Because we love him.
"Murray, can you call Dustin Hoffman and set up an appointment please?"
Like that.
The funny thing is that each time we actually see him in person, I am struck by how much he does NOT look like Dustin Hoffman. The fact of the matter is that over the year between our appointments with him, my mental image of him actually becomes Dustin Hoffman. So whenever we see him, I'm brought back to reality, and that reality is that our accountant is not, in fact, Dustin Hoffman.
BUT, our accountant is wonderful. Do you want to know why he is wonderful? Because my whole life, I have been fairly anxiety-free except for when it comes to money, and how much I suck at managing it. This anxiety is pretty much cured now that I'm married to Murray and can delegate most money management things to him. But I get slightly anxious during tax time still. But every time we meet with our accountant, a great weight is lifted off of my soul, as he speaks very calming words of how this is allllllll okay, and it's nooooooooot a big deal. In fact, the first time we met with him, I had a confession of a financial sin to share with him. This was a (I thought) weighty financial matter that caused me fear and panic any time it popped into my mind for YEARS. YEARS! And the first time we met with Dustin Hoffman and I shared my little secret with him, he actually told me that it wasn't a problem. At all. No big deal. At all. And in fact, everything was okay, and I didn't even have to do anything to fix my tax error from years and years ago. And it was like absolution and one of the biggest burdens I've ever carried was just LIFTED FROM MY SOUL.
I love Dustin Hoffman.
Each year, he takes our financial information and does our taxes for us. And we end up getting more back than we would if we did them ourselves. AND it saves us time. And saves me anxiety. This year because of the self-employment thing, I thought for sure it was going to be a big complicated mess. But it isn't. It is wonderful, wonderful, wonderful. And easy.
Let me know if you want his REAL name, not his Dustin Hoffman name, and I'll refer you to him. Because we love him.
Conversation with Murray
I'm stuck in the middle of revisions with almost all of my clients right now. And I don't really love this process. Here's a conversation that I just had with Murray.
Me: I actually understand now why designers will tell you that they'll have your revisions to you in 2 weeks. I mean, most of the time, revisions only take one or two hours. So when I first started, I didn't really understand why designers couldn't just turn revisions around right away.
Murray: Uh huh.
Me: I mean, everything that I'm working on right now is revisions. And so now I see that I can't just turn everything around in the same day. I have to work on projects in order of priority. So that means, it takes a little longer for some people to get revisions.
Murray: Yeah.
Me: So I don't know. Maybe I should institute a 2-week revisions policy.
Murray: So what do you think the priority issue is?
Me: What?
Murray: The priority. What do you think the real issue is. With priority.
Me: Uh... I don't really understand what you're asking. What?
Murray, turning around to face me: I actually wasn't listening to you and I have no idea what you've just said, so I was hoping to bait you and try and get you to repeat it all without admitting that I wasn't listening.
Me: I actually understand now why designers will tell you that they'll have your revisions to you in 2 weeks. I mean, most of the time, revisions only take one or two hours. So when I first started, I didn't really understand why designers couldn't just turn revisions around right away.
Murray: Uh huh.
Me: I mean, everything that I'm working on right now is revisions. And so now I see that I can't just turn everything around in the same day. I have to work on projects in order of priority. So that means, it takes a little longer for some people to get revisions.
Murray: Yeah.
Me: So I don't know. Maybe I should institute a 2-week revisions policy.
Murray: So what do you think the priority issue is?
Me: What?
Murray: The priority. What do you think the real issue is. With priority.
Me: Uh... I don't really understand what you're asking. What?
Murray, turning around to face me: I actually wasn't listening to you and I have no idea what you've just said, so I was hoping to bait you and try and get you to repeat it all without admitting that I wasn't listening.
Prepare yourself for the cuteness.
Tonight, Murray was assembling some Ikea furniture, and Gulliver decided he wanted to help. Gulliver's help wasn't always the most helpful, but Murray didn't complain. How could you possibly complain when you have this adorable mini helper??
Later in the evening, I saw Gulliver go head first into one of the cubes. Because if there's a cubby open for the climbing into, it must be climbed into! I'm sorry I didn't get the camera fast enough to catch the legs sticking out the top. Or the contortions involved in getting himself facing up again. But at least I got a few shots of him in his cubby.
If you're considering parenthood, we strongly recommend it.
Later in the evening, I saw Gulliver go head first into one of the cubes. Because if there's a cubby open for the climbing into, it must be climbed into! I'm sorry I didn't get the camera fast enough to catch the legs sticking out the top. Or the contortions involved in getting himself facing up again. But at least I got a few shots of him in his cubby.
If you're considering parenthood, we strongly recommend it.
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