Author: the outside lane

Happy. That about covers it.
parenting, pets

The Perot and The Puppy

the outside lane

Every year, we do a Family Christmas Outing.  This year, we went to the opening of the new Perot Museum of Nature and Science.  It is an excellent museum, and an excellent value for what is available to you.  B and I have been looking forward to this for a couple of years, and it didn’t disappoint!  I didn’t take any pictures inside the exhibit hall because it was incredibly crowded and any photos would have been mainly of the backs of strangers’ heads, or other people pointing  cameras, but I did take a few shots of my little GQ man.

I don't pose him. No. This is one of his "action spy" poses.
I don’t pose him. No. This is one of his “action spy” poses.
Leap frog in the courtyard.
Leap frog in the courtyard.

Thor was really happy with all the interactive items in the museum.  It is 4 floors of finger-food for thought, well designed to be interesting to all age groups.  I was impressed with the layout, the natural lighting, and the friendliness of the staff.

We watched a 3-D movie about prehistoric sea-life in a nice sized theater (I did not need to see that 3-D shark, thank you), and will go back again to see the 3-D meerkat movie that Thor was sorry to miss.  I wimped out (due to knee trouble) before seeing the animal/human life exhibit, and the physics, engineering, and robotics sections, but B assured me they were well worth seeing when the museum isn’t so crowded.  We went ahead and bought a membership, so we can go regularly.

Meanwhile, my mom and I have been working hard to conceal the existence of the Christmas Puppy.  Thor went to spend the night with her on Thursday, so when I left work, I went straight to her house and collected the dog, while she went to our place to collect the child.  When she returned the boy, this morning, I hid in the back yard with the puppy, and ran him (in his kennel) and all his accessories into her car, while they went in the front door.

We still haven’t planned out exactly how we will a) get the dog back over here on Christmas without Thor knowing it, or b) how we will do the big reveal, but I’m pretty excited.  I might be more excited than Thor will end up being.  I told B, and I know it sounds ridiculous, but with the dog it feels like we have the right number of living things in the household.  That feels pretty darned good.

He plays ball with all the energy of a puppy. Which is perfectly normal, and also hilarious.
He plays ball with all the energy of a puppy. Which is perfectly normal, and also hilarious.
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He is an excellent puppy. Right there, he was watching squirrels run across rooftops. Normally, there aren’t slats missing from the fence. A neighbor had an accident, but he is a good neighbor so it will be fixed quickly.

We had two nights with the puppy in our care, and had the same experience Mom has had.  He goes into his kennel quietly, sleeps through the night, and understands where to do his business.  I was amazed that he already understands how to play fetch, but I might be underestimating at what age puppies do things.  It’s been a long time since I’ve had a healthy puppy in the house.

He seems to be the right mix between playful and cuddly, considering he was happy to sit on my lap for over an hour, while B and I made our way through the last part of the first season of Parks and Recreation.  Makes a good thigh warmer!  I think he and Thor are going to get along just fine.  I only worry that he’s going to end up with a name that will be a cause for ridicule in the dog park.

Advice, Career

I am Interested in This Position Because…

the outside lane

One of the lessons I learned from acting came from the audition process.  That was that no matter how great you are, if you are a blonde who wears a B cup bra, and they are looking for a redhead wearing an A cup actress, you are not getting the gig.  I learned to separate the word “No” from my self-esteem.  Being told no didn’t mean I was a bad actress.  It meant I wasn’t the right good actress for the part. 

That has served me well in job interviews.  I look at them like auditions.  I’m going to go in there, give my all, and hope I am the right height, so-to-speak.  If something is wrong that I can change (or if I can change something semi-permanently, like my hair color) I’ll go out and make sure I have developed the skill for my wheelhouse.  If there is something I can’t change (like how that REM video called for people who could dance…yeah. no.) I let it go.

Two job interview stories:

I really wanted to work for KCM.  At the point that I first interviewed for them, I had everything they wanted, but I was lacking even basic computer skills and my typing was too slow.  They loved me.  They told me how much they loved me.  They wanted to work with me.  They gave me 30 days to get my skills up to par, and I went after it like a madwoman.  When I went back to test again, I passed all the computer skills at a beginner level, but still couldn’t meet the typing minimum speed of 35 wpm.  They called me back in to tell me face-to-face that they couldn’t hire me, and the hiring manager and I both cried.

But I am not one to accept defeat when I can affect the change to get something I really want.  What I lack in knowledge, I make up for in determination.  With a bonus from work that year, I bought myself a computer.  I also made a very purposeful change of job that allowed me access to a full suite of software training.  I worked on my computer skills diligently and I spent hours working on my typing skills in Compuserve’s chat rooms.  (Yeah, I’m calling it time spent building my skills, not time wasted talking to fake British men.)  When another position in my area opened up about a year and a half later, I passed all the computer skills at an advanced level, and was typing at a speed of 70 wpm.  I got the job.

I changed what I could and it paid off.

Many years later, I was up for a promotion there.  Hiring Manager told me I had everything she wanted.  I went through an extensive interview process, which included travel for a 3-day long on-site work audition.  That is, I did the job for three days without any formal training.  Because I had all the skills and knowledge the job required, I knocked it out of the park.  I don’t mind telling you that I was amazing because everyone else involved said I was.  Hiring Manager told me to expect an offer when we got back into the office on Monday.

Monday came and went.  Tuesday.  On Wednesday, I got called up to her office.  She told me I was perfect, that she’d never seen a more capable candidate, a harder worker, or enjoyed an employee’s company so much.  But she had decided not to hire me.  Why?  She reminded me of the story of how David became king of Israel.  How Jesse brought all his perfect sons before Samuel, but none of those perfect boys were quite right.  She said she couldn’t put her finger on it, but there must be something wrong with my heart.  She and I both cried.

Well, clearly there was nothing I could change there.  If she wasn’t even sure why she didn’t want to hire me, I couldn’t work on making myself more hirable.  I was pretty sure that I wasn’t hiding any horrors in my soul.  I won’t lie and tell you that was easy to get over.  It wasn’t.  It was personally (and at that time spiritually) hurtful and disappointing in a way that being told I was too short, too tall, too fat, too skinny, too shrill, too well spoken ever was. 

The point here is, I couldn’t change it, and I really couldn’t dwell on it.  Now, it’s a funny story.  Sometimes hiring decisions are just completely arbitrary.

I still can’t change whether or not someone has a gut feeling against me, but I will always work to build my repetoire when a hiring manager suggests it.  I’ve ended up with some awesome jobs that way.

That said, here are 4 questions I think are good to ask in an interview situation, and why:

  1. If you don’t already know, ask why the position is open.  This can tell you a lot about the environment.  Was it a promotion?  Was it a firing?  Did the other person leave?  Don’t be shy about asking why either.  The Hiring Manager should be asking you why you want to leave your current job/left your last job.  It’s the mirror image question, and as the potential seat filler, you deserve the heads-up.
  2. Ask what qualities make the person in that position successful.  Jot down notes as the HM answers because you are going to use those notes later to detail how you have every one of those qualities.
  3. Ask how the position fits into the overall success of the company and department, and what you can do to help them achieve it.  This is going to tell you a lot about the company as well, and shows that you are forward thinking.  Take notes here, too. 
  4. Ask if the HM has any hesitations about hiring you.  It’s bold, and you need to be ready to hear the answer, but it also gives you the opportunity to address any questions the HM might have about you.  Better to clear up any misconceptions in the interview and get the job, than miss the chance and never find out what went wrong.
parenting, pets, Thor

Snips, Snails, and Puppy-dog Tails

the outside lane

I got my first dog when I was around three.  My parents brought home a fuzzy, little Shih Tzu to be my Only-Child companion.  I was delighted.  The dog?  Not so much.  As I recall, Sweet-Sue-the-Shih-Tzu (so named because every time I told my Grandma I was getting  Shih Tzu, she would tease, “A Sweet Sue?” And I finally got tired of trying to explain–I remember this so clearly–and said, “No, but that is her name, so that’s fine.”) wasn’t crazy about Lane the Pain. 

I wasn’t hurtful to her.  I just wanted to dress her up, stroll her around in my baby buggy, and sleep with her.  She only wanted to chase my house shoes, nip my heels, and hide from my exuberant love.  I was a girly-girl with doll-baby fantasies of pet ownership.  Susie was a feminist and wasn’t having any of my Madame Alexander doll dress and bonnet madness.

Frosty, our Samoyed Husky, joined the family when I was about 9.  Her owners were allergic to her, so she came to live with us.  Frosty, and I bonded and she was my best friend for years to come.  I would put on my roller skates, put her on her leash, and she would drag me around the neighborhood.  I would perform circus acts with her, having her (my white lion) jump through my hula hoop.  When I cried, she would offer up her warmth and support.  She was my furry soulmate and I loved that dog.

After Frosty died, when I was 16 (Sweet Sue had kicked it not long after Frosty had joined the family), I bought Tuxedo Sam in a pet store for $50.  He was a beautiful Border Collie mix, and just as smart and sweet a dog as you could hope for.  Dad brought Pete, a lab mix, home one day, and they were pretty good buddies.

I found Wart on the side of the road, nearly hairless, one ear chewed up, crawling with red ants.  That little guy was pretty devoted to me, and used to ride around in the car with me.

All three of them were gone by the time I was 22.

When Grandma and Boom came to live with us, they brought their Boxer, Rusty, who was on her last, wonderful leg.  Bryan and I brought another Boxer,  Ella Bella Bon home, when she was 5 weeks old. She extended Rusty’s life with good companionship, and my grandmother adored her.

Ella was four when Thor was born, and he fell in love with her gradually.  She died last summer, and he’s been mooning for a dog since then.  B and I have said no, and maybe, and one day, and no, and never, and Thor (as little boys do) has persisted.

“What would you do with a dog?” I have asked.  “Love it,” he has answered.  Good lord.  What do you say to that?

This is what you say to that.
This is what you say to that.

Friday, I was sitting in the car, waiting to pick him up from school.  NPR was detailing new information about the number of children who had been murdered.  20 children who were all my son’s age.  I watched through tears as my son ran up to a man who had walked his dog up to the school.  He appeared to be chattering to the dog, loving his head and petting his rump and stroking his ears–tip to tail.  He laid himself across the dog’s back, hugging and kissing him, rubbing his cheek against that stiff Boxer fur.  You can’t buy that kind of love.

We were out at a friend’s lakehouse on Saturday, watching Thor play with someone else’s dog.  I was thinking about the last conversation Thor and I had shared about one.  He had said, “I’m so lonely, Mama.  I just want a dog for a friend.”

Our friend said something about how much her son loves their dog and I looked over at B.  I said, “We have to get him a dog.”  He said, “If it is free and lives outside.”  I said, “Okay.”

The next day, I went over to Mom’s to put together a Christmas present that required assembly.  We made a run over to the vitamin store and the new makeup store (getting stuck in Cowboy traffic–go ‘Boys!) and peeked in at the pet place next door, where it seemed like a hundred pups were up for adoption at half price.  Kismet.  My mom paid the $40.

Right now, a beautifully tempered, cracking smart, snuggle bug of an Australian Shepherd mix is hiding out at my Mom’s house, waiting for Christmas morning, when he will meet his Boy.

I asked Thor this morning, “If you had a dog, what would you need to do for it?”

“Clean up its poop,” was his first response, and it came with a laugh.  Then, “Feed him.  Take him for walks.  Play with him.  Teach him to do stuff.”  As he rattled off his list, his face got brighter and brighter.

I agreed with him.  We talked about training dogs and what makes them happy.  I cannot tell you how forward I am looking to his face when we present his new friend to him.

If his connection to this pup is anything like mine was to Frosty, we’ll have given him the best gift possible, outside of the older brother he’d like to have–and that ship sailed!

holiday guest blog

So Many Hats, So Little Time: A Guest Blog from LynDee Walker

the outside lane

Thank you, LynDee, for this lovely look into your world.

LynDee Walker
LynDee Walker

Note: I wrote this post before the news of the events in Newtown broke on Friday. As a former journalist and current mother of small children, I have been both glued to the news and horrified by each new revelation. I have squeezed all my monkeys tighter this weekend, but especially my oldest, who got off the bus from her elementary school Friday afternoon surprised to find herself swept off her feet by a mommy who was bawling her eyes out. My thoughts are with the parents in Connecticut who can no longer hug their children.

Mom. Wife. Author. Event planner. I have quite the hat collection these days for a girl with a head so big normal hats don’t fit it. But I adore hats of all kinds, so I line up my mental collection and look at the pretty colors and shapes.

Keeping them all straight often requires quantities of coffee that would probably horrify my doctor. But, since I love pretty much everything about my life even when I’m having one of those days where I just want everyone to shut up for ten seconds and I take to hiding in the bathroom or my car to get a few moments of peace, I keep juggling the hats.
Lane asked me to chat today about how I do that. The simple answer is: gadgets. From my MacBook to my iPhone to my refrigerator door, I have reminders, calendars, and spreadsheets all around me to keep me (sort of) on track. But I thought it might be fun—and helpful to mommies who have dreams they’d like to chase—to have a look at these lovely hats and how I keep them in order.

 

My mommy hat, which looks rather like a creation of Dr. Seuss
The outside of my fridge is the magical map to how I run a household and keep five people and one tiny dog fed and happy in the midst of everything else I have going on.
First, it has all the school info: since I can’t say no to my oldest monkey’s big blue puppy-dog eyes, I also have a room mom hat (I see this one as a slick black fedora) this year. We are fortunate to live in an amazing school district and she has the very best teacher in the whole world, so that makes this one fun. But I still have to remember to do things. All the class parties and events and their various deadlines, plus when I need to make a sign up genius (calling all room moms: if you’ve not discovered this amazing free online tool, you’re really going to love me for eliminating the dreaded reply-all email from your life! Just go create a sign up form and forget about it. They even remind the folks who sign up a couple of days beforehand. Truly, genius.) to make sure everything gets there on time are on the school calendar on the side of the fridge.
Above that one hangs the preschool monthly calendar so I can keep track of when pajama day is and what letter this week’s show and tell must start with. Next to that, the monthly elementary school lunch calendar tells me which days my daughter will and won’t eat the cafeteria food for lunch, which can lead to early-morning swearing when I discover that I have thirty-five seconds to pack my pickiest eater a lunch and get her to the bus on time.
I also have these fabulous magnetic notepads from Anthropologie that make grocery lists and meals no-brainers. One allows me to check off items we need from the store as I notice we’re out, and then tear off my shopping list on the way out the door. The other has a place for weekly menus, so I don’t forget to buy anything. One trip to the store is way better than five.

My wife hat, a sexy and slightly mysterious pillbox of satin with some sort of cropped veil
I try really hard to not let my marriage get lost in the constant chaos that is my very happy life. My husband is a wonderful man and a great dad, and truly my very best friend. During the day, my MacBook helps out with that, because while I’m working, I can use Messages to keep up with how his day is going and send him little notes. He emails me photos of flowers, which I adore because it says he’s thinking about me, they don’t die, and they’re free.
My calendar keeps track of date nights and movie releases we might want to see together, and my iPhone is the lifeline to my wonderful babysitter, who always replies promptly to my texts even though she’s a busy honor student who plays competitive sports.

My author hat, which has magical powers and changes from book to book
This is definitely the one that’s been hardest to keep up with for the past few years, and now that I have a book launching in just six weeks (Eep!) it’s become a fun-with-a-hint-of-work Chanel baseball cap, instead of a jaunty little hobby beret. Just yesterday, I was chatting with the principal at my daughter’s school and I mentioned the book and she stared with wide eyes and said “Don’t you have two other little ones? How in the world do you find the time to write novels?”

LynDee's first novel! Coming soon--see below for pre-order links.
LynDee’s first novel! Coming soon–see below for pre-order links.

The short answer is, coffee. But the longer one is a much better explanation of how I make writing a priority in my days. My MacBook has a program that cuts me off from the Internet (because we all know how many hours fun things like Facebook and Pinterest can suck away from productivity), so I try to take care of my social networking type stuff in the morning and evening, and reserve my littlest monkey’s afternoon nap time for writing. On a good day, I can get down between 1,000 and 3,000 words in a nap.
At that pace, accounting for days when it’s less or more and days when I can’t manage to fit in much at all, it takes me about three months to draft a novel. The key is making myself write every day. In the process of drafting my current manuscript, which is a sequel to Front Page Fatality, I’ve had days when I wasn’t feeling so connected to Nichelle. But I found if I just parked my rear in the chair and opened the file and started typing, the story would eventually come. And even when there’re not-so-good words in part of a scene, it’s worth it for the ones that come when I get going. A rough draft is just that: rough. I know I’m going to revise it within an inch of it’s life, anyhow. So I just have to get it down.
The further I get toward being a published author, the more guest blogs and interviews I have to write, which present new (but fun and welcome) challenges. I have a spreadsheet with the post topic, the due date, and the email address I need to return material to, which helps me keep it organized. Every morning I check that to see if there’s one I need to write, and on days like today (when there is), I set the baby up with Mickey Mouse or a bucket of blocks and start writing. Sometimes it takes a few drafts to find exactly what I want to say, but I can usually knock out a post in the time it takes for her to watch Mickey or the Little Einsteins have an adventure.

My event planning hat, which of course must be a fancy silk party hat with bright colors and long ribbons
When I not doing one of those other things I just listed, or sighing at the latest mess the monkeys have made, or trying to squeeze in a pinch of sleep, I plan central Virginia events for a well-known international weight loss company. Having been through the program and lost a touch north of 100 pounds, I know what it’s like to walk through the doors for the first time, and exactly how much having fun, motivating events to attend can help people become healthier.
This is where my iPhone calendar, my cell phone itself, and my email program keep me in line. I have a separate email account for the planning stuff, which makes it easy to click over and glance through a few times a day, whether on my laptop or my phone, to see if there’s anything that needs my attention. I like to take care of emails right away so the sender gets a prompt reply, but also so I don’t forget about them.
I also manage the social media presence of the company in central Virginia, which various apps from the folks at Facebook make it easy to do from my phone. Every once in a while, it’s necessary for me to sit down and spend a couple of hours on this, usually when I have a big event coming up in the next few weeks or have a flyer to design, but most of the time I fit it in while I wait in the carpool line, between tweets in the afternoon, or while we watch TV after dinner. Twenty minutes a few times a day makes a big difference in the lives of folks who attend the events and get inspired to lead a healthier lifestyle, and that’s rewarding in a different way than getting a hug from the monkeys or a lovely review of a book, but it’s no less important.
There are days when I think there’s not enough sleep or coffee or combination of the two to keep me upright for one more second, and my rear end would appreciate me going to the gym more often, but I wouldn’t know what to do without any one of my lovely pieces of headwear. I hope something here helped you, lovely reader, to see how to keep all your own hats in line, and I want to offer a heartfelt thanks to Lane for having me on The Outside Lane today.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to swap the ballcap for the crazy Dr. Seuss contraption (with the party hat perched on top), because Little Einsteins is over and it’s time for the preschool carpool line.

FRONT PAGE FATALITY: A Nichelle Clarke Headlines in Heels Mystery (Henery Press, January 29, 2013)
Twitter: @LynDeeWalker
Facebook: LynDee Walker
Goodreads: LynDee Walker
Amazon author page: LynDee Walker
Uncategorized

What I Told my Son

the outside lane

Thor is a very smart boy, who lives with parents who listen to talk radio, watch the news, and are fairly plugged in. It would be hard for him to miss out on a story like the one coming out of Newtown, CT today. It was also going to be hard for him to miss that I’d been crying before I picked him up from school. So, when he got in the car today, after he’d told me all his news, I told him what had happened.

Me: So, something very sad happened today, Bud.
Thor: Oh…then I don’t want to know.
Me: Normally, I wouldn’t tell you, but this is very sad, and important, and you’re going to hear it on the news and maybe from other children at school, so I’d rather tell you about it first, okay?
Thor: Okay.

He sat frowning with consternation as I explained, “A very sick man went into a school in the state of Connecticut today, and he shot a lot of people. He killed several people, including some children. It is important that you know it happened, but I want you to know that your school sent me an email earlier (and they had) telling me what security they have in place so that something like that doesn’t happen in your school. I believe you are very safe, and I know [your teacher] will always take very good care of you. Okay? I believe you are completely safe.”

He said okay.

Me: It’s okay to be upset about this. It’s also okay if you aren’t upset. It made me cry. Daddy didn’t cry. It’s okay if you want to cry, and okay if you don’t.
Thor: Was Daddy sad?
Me: Yes. It made Daddy sad. It is a very sad thing.
Thor: Okay.
Me: Do you want to talk about anything else about it?
Thor: No!

He was emphatic. I told him we would talk about something happy, and reminded him that if he decided he did want to ask questions, he could. He said great and we talked about football.

All the while, I was thinking of 20 sets of parents who would give anything to be talking about football. 20 sets of parents who have to go home to houses that are far too quiet, look at presents under the tree that won’t be opened, who are waiting for an investigation to be completed so that they can get their children’s bodies out of that school. I said to my mom that they would have to sedate me, and probably with a tranquilizer in a scene that resembled something from Wild Kingdom–I couldn’t stand thinking my child’s little body was being left as part of a crime scene. I would lose my mind. I would absolutely lose my mind.

I am so sorry for those families. So very, very sorry.