My dear, lovely internets, I am taking a short break.

It’s not you, it’s me. I’ve been taking progressively more and more time taking care of my family and my house, and doing my business, and I’m sorry to say that it has taken time away from you. You’ve been my faithful companion these last years, and while I don’t plan to leave you forever, I do need to take some time apart.

I won’t be Twittering or Plurking or blogging here for at least a month. But please, my friends in the digital spaces, if you need me, email me, okay? I won’t be away from my computer, just away from some of the things that right now I don’t have time for. I’m focusing on what’s most important; I’m sure you understand.

My email is up there in my sidebar on the right, or you can use my contact form. Just drop me a line to let me know you’re thinking of me. :)

(And, of course, you can always comment on this post.)

Love,
Me

I posted a link here yesterday, but it’s such a great post that I really enjoyed writing that I want it here, too.  If you haven’t read it yet, here is my post about Joey:

. . . . .

Dear Joey,

I posted about your sister recently – it was mostly to show off her new glasses and lovely smile, but it was also because I’ve learned some things about her lately, and I wanted to put them in writing. I have learned a lot about you too this past year, and you deserve for me to write those things down as well, so here I go.

When I mulled over what to write in this post about you, it seemed natural to write it TO you instead of just ABOUT you. Because you’re personal like that – everything that happens around you touches you in some way, even if you weren’t really involved.

That’s one of the biggest things I have learned about you, and one of the biggest reasons you tend to get into trouble. You’re easily offended, and easily hurt, because jokes aren’t just jokes, and feelings are fragile right now. I’m sure it’s partly your age, but here is where we are the same, my boy: I still to this day have to remind myself that it’s not about me. I still have days where something is said, whether in passing or more directly, and I struggle not to cry or be angry. Our deep care for everything that happens is also our weakness. I hope that I can give you an example of how to grow a thicker skin without hiding your heart away, because that softness is a good thing when it’s done right.

You’ll still hurt more than some other people, though, and I’m sorry for that – but if you don’t learn these things like I had to learn them, you won’t be as strong as I know you can be. I always say to you that pain is the best teacher, and I always mean it. One day, you might repeat that to someone else, and then you will truly know deep down that it is so.

You are the child that makes me work harder than I ever have to make sure I am the best mother I can possibly be. You are the one that I cry about, the one I tear out my hair over, and the one that I always fear I might screw up. I don’t know why I’m so afraid that you’re fragile, because you are obviously so resilient. Your kindness and sincerity touch my heart, and your uncanny ability to hear what I’m thinking still catches me off guard.

You are the child who brings me a handful of tissue, even though I was crying as quietly as I could, and was several rooms away. You always give hugs, even when they’re awkward because nobody was expecting them. You always try new things, and you compliment every meal I’ve ever made.

You hate being alone but sometimes you need to be. You have trouble calming down when you’re angry, because you don’t want to have to release all that energy and emotion and feeling – but little by little, you’re learning how to just BE, to find the peace that’s inside you. Again, I know I don’t always give you the best example of how to be calm, but I’ll be working on that for the rest of my life too.

You are my son, my first boy, and I want so much for you to grow into a good man. But I think that the best thing I’ve learned from you lately is that before you can be any kind of grownup, you have to be a kid first. You’re teaching me that running around screeching is normal for a boy, and that green stains on pants and cuts on hands are part of the package. I’m learning to let go more and be silly more, and I have you to thank for it. Just like I had you to thank for all the face-smacks when you were eighteen months old and sitting on my lap, head-butting me because you wanted to scoot closer.

The closer I get to you, the more I see how deep your soul is. I’m honored to be your mom.

If you haven’t read it yet, you can click right over and read my first post at ThisMommyGig.  It’s about Joey, since my last good post here was about Lissie.  :)

Let me know what you think!

(Also, be sure you subscribe to the blog feed over there, because it’s chock full of great writing by great women!)

Hi! Yes, I got married. Yes, we’re doing awesome. No, I didn’t forget to tell you – it’s just that I don’t have long distance on my phone, and all of you don’t have email addresses, and we were hoping to save up some money and send out announcements soon.

I still love you all, even if some of you are a little upset. There are too many of you to make you all happy at once, so I confess that usually I don’t even TRY. I figure that since you love me anyway, and I love you anyway, it’ll all shake out in the end.

Also, Dad? Are you out there too? Because GRANDMA left me a comment (and I must add, how awesome is that?!), it’s your turn next!

Talk to you soon,
Hugs & Kisses,
Me

I’m mostly writing this for the benefit of my fellow Michigan readers, because this blog gets picked up by the blog section of Flint MLive (hi guys!), and I have something I want to say to Menards.

Dear Menards,

When my husband and I heard about you coming to our neck of the woods (Clio, to be specific), we were really excited about the extra jobs you were promising.  We heard it was somewhere around 250 jobs that you were bringing to this employment-starved area (I tried to find a link, but I failed for now), and we felt certain that one of those jobs would be right for Troy.

We drove past the job site every chance we could, sometimes driving up to the doors and looking for a sign – anything – that you were about to start the hiring process.  We checked your website, we checked all the employment websites.  We trolled around online looking for a mention of what you were going to do next, because we wanted to be ready.

Troy happened to read this article on MLive’s website, which said that a bunch of people had already been able to start applying, so we drove up there right away.  He sat for less than five minutes in a quickie-style interview, and was told that he’d be called if there was a second interview in the works.

And we’ve waited.  And waited.  We went back a week or so later, to ask if they could tell us when the interviews might start, or at least if Troy was on the short list.  He was brushed off, rudely, by one of your managers.  This manager wouldn’t even tell him if you had STARTED interviewing.

You have had no media coverage whatsoever that we can determine, apart from the blog article from back in April, almost a month ago now.  For a company that promised new jobs for the area, you’re being awfully damn sneaky about it.  You don’t seem to care about the people around here hoping for something, anything, and won’t even give us the courtesy of a number to call and ask questions.

Your new store isn’t listed on your website, there are no listings on the job search sites for this area, and there are no numbers to call.

In short, Menards, you suck.  Epic fail.  What gives you the right to offer jobs and then be secretive?  Is this the way you treat people when they’re your employees?  Badly done.  You can rest assured that I will never shop at your Clio store, because I’m positive that your customer service will suck just as much as your human resource service.

Yours truly,
The wife of the best damn worker you could possibly have hired.

EDITED TO ADD:
If you feel so led, here is the link to their contact page: Guest Services.