Bonus
If you're a worker bee in corporate America, then you probably kicked off this morning with a mental countdown of how many days (hours?) you must somehow slog through until your well-earned holiday break begins. If memory serves, you will have platters of cookies and an assortment of decorative tins brimming with flavored popcorn to power you through this limbo time.
You may also have the joyful or dread-filled (depending on your circumstances and general outlook on life) countdown until the eagle lands and official confirmation of your holiday bonus arrives on your desk and into your eager bank account. Oh, gentle reader: I hope you are richly rewarded for your tireless hours of personal sacrifice and blood, sweat and tears.
It's hard to hear stories of pie-in-the-sky bonuses and then work up any enthusiasm for a measly slip of paper emblazoned with dear old Uncle Ben's picture. Truth is, even amidst the lucky Joes and Janes at Prestigious Global Investment Bank, you know there's one unlucky schmoe who's gotten stiffed. And then this scene plays out in the middle of downtown. Sad.
Alas, my days of holiday bonuses are a dim memory now. I also don't qualify for overtime or hazard pay, both of which might be applicable today. I noted on Friday that Carter was running a fever and generally feeling crummy; I was convinced that this was a direct result of his four-year shots. And then Saturday morning arrived and brought with it the Cha.
Cha is the euphemism my sister Sarah inexplicably uses for the runs. Funny name; unfunny and most unwelcome visitor to our home. At first, I hoped against hope it was a fluke. Then, I recalled that nearly every conversation I've had with any parent in the Metroplex recently had included a reference to their house being plagued by one day of fever, followed by one day of Cha. Ugh.
"Oh, sweetie," I consoled my miserable wailing child, doubled over with stomach pains. "I know it's awful. But it will all be over tomorrow. I promise."
That was Saturday. Now it is Monday, and still there is the Cha. I am a LIAR in the eyes of my firstborn.
I am also seriously slacking in my holiday duties. I feel guilty admitting this, but I was counting on using every minute of Carter's bonus day of school today to tackle the things on my to-do list that were utterly neglected during our housebound weekend. Instead, I am running defense against three small pooping creatures who can't reliably wander more than a few feet away from le bidet. Even shopping on-line is a major challenge with cranky and restless muppers underfoot.
Love, Amy
You may also have the joyful or dread-filled (depending on your circumstances and general outlook on life) countdown until the eagle lands and official confirmation of your holiday bonus arrives on your desk and into your eager bank account. Oh, gentle reader: I hope you are richly rewarded for your tireless hours of personal sacrifice and blood, sweat and tears.
It's hard to hear stories of pie-in-the-sky bonuses and then work up any enthusiasm for a measly slip of paper emblazoned with dear old Uncle Ben's picture. Truth is, even amidst the lucky Joes and Janes at Prestigious Global Investment Bank, you know there's one unlucky schmoe who's gotten stiffed. And then this scene plays out in the middle of downtown. Sad.
Alas, my days of holiday bonuses are a dim memory now. I also don't qualify for overtime or hazard pay, both of which might be applicable today. I noted on Friday that Carter was running a fever and generally feeling crummy; I was convinced that this was a direct result of his four-year shots. And then Saturday morning arrived and brought with it the Cha.
Cha is the euphemism my sister Sarah inexplicably uses for the runs. Funny name; unfunny and most unwelcome visitor to our home. At first, I hoped against hope it was a fluke. Then, I recalled that nearly every conversation I've had with any parent in the Metroplex recently had included a reference to their house being plagued by one day of fever, followed by one day of Cha. Ugh.
"Oh, sweetie," I consoled my miserable wailing child, doubled over with stomach pains. "I know it's awful. But it will all be over tomorrow. I promise."
That was Saturday. Now it is Monday, and still there is the Cha. I am a LIAR in the eyes of my firstborn.
I am also seriously slacking in my holiday duties. I feel guilty admitting this, but I was counting on using every minute of Carter's bonus day of school today to tackle the things on my to-do list that were utterly neglected during our housebound weekend. Instead, I am running defense against three small pooping creatures who can't reliably wander more than a few feet away from le bidet. Even shopping on-line is a major challenge with cranky and restless muppers underfoot.
The one thing I can work on is addressing Christmas cards, and so I am in bits and pieces. Since all we did was sit down and smile for Jen (seriously, we didn't even bother cleaning the house beforehand), I don't think it's bragging to tell you that they're just gorgeous and make me smile every time I look at them. If you're the patient type who can wait until the mailman arrives with your very own copy, then don't click here. Otherwise, enjoy these bonus shots of our happy quintet, set to a cool tune.
Side note: somehow I have misplaced the file that I created last year with everyone's addresses in alphabetical order. Relying on my memory is always an iffy prospect, so if you're not sure that I have your correct info, please let me know!Love, Amy
posted by mrsf5 at 10:48 AM
2 Comments:
Awww Amy, I hear you. Is there a particular reason for "Cha", or does it defy all logic? (the name, not the existence of it!) I think several times a day "this was SO much easier when they were in daycare all day!"
And wow on those holiday bonuses! Being in public education my entire career (and returning to it after the holidays, albeit at public HIGHER education) I have never received a holiday bonus. Rich does every year, and it's usually equal to one extra paycheck. Which is very welcome and appreciated, but immediately spent on the January holiday credit card bill, not anything fun!
I laughed ridiculously hard and long at the suicide jumper! I hope you don't mind if I use it on my blog?
I hope your kids feel better! It's no fun to be sick over Christmas vacation.
Take care,
MN Rachel
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