Soup Is Not A Finger Food

Human Resources, Illustrated

ThERE IS THIS FUNNY MEME going around on The Facebook. It characterizes professions from different points of view.  Take the writer:

Hilarious! I have to credit my pal Amy, because she posted it on her Facebook page, though I don't know if she created it or reposted it. (If it's yours, leave a comment, I'm happy to give credit where credit is due.)

Also hilarious was the Professors version! I found it on a friend's page, which linked back to this guy, so credit goes to him as OP, if not creator:

There are many of these flying around right now, but I didn't see any that illustrated my profession: Human Resources. So I made my own. Feel free to share, just link back to my blog if you do.

So very taxing

IT'S TAX SEASON, and again this year, I'm using a popular web-based tax preparation program. As I was estimating the damage entering our info today, I decided to take advantage of their on-line community to search questions and answers posted by other users to  see if I could clarify something I found a little bit confusing.

I know what you're thinking - it's redundant to say "taxes" and "confusing" in the same sentence! But you know what they say - misery loves company - and there were plenty of equally confused citizens seeking clarity in the Q&A message board.  Luckily, my question was straightforward and I was able to confirm my hunch. But as I browsed, another question caught my eye: 

CAN I CLAIM MY BOYFRIEND THAT DIDNT WORK ALL YEAR

Maybe it's just me, but that question seems to be oozing with lots more than a simple inquiry about a potential tax deduction. I sense frustration with a note of accusation. Impatience. One informed citizen weighed in (copied verbatim, typos and all):

If he meets the following criterea he can be claimed as a dependent 

The person must:

1) Not be the taxpayer’s or anyone else’s qualifying child. 

2) Either (a) live with the taxpayer all year as a member of his household or (b) be related to the taxpayer.

3) Have gross income less than $3,650.

The taxpayer must provide more than half of the person’s total support for the year.

Now, a scene is developing inside my head. A skinny woman with long, stringy hair sits on a barstool in a cramped apartment, frantically typing her question into her old laptop which is perched atop the paper-strewn breakfast bar. Her back is to the living room, where her boyfriend is sitting on the sofa. Again. He's wearing sweats and an old black "Motley Crue" T-shirt, has holes in his unmatched socks, is swilling cheap beer from a 40-ounce can, his feet propped on a black laquered coffee table. With his big toe, he nudges aside a crumpled, empty bag of Combos, the better to view whatever's on the tube. Crumbs and a lone, uneaten Combo spill onto the table.

"AHA!" She yells.

Boyfriend belches. "KEEP IT DOWN," he growls. "I can't hear the teevee."

"THIS IS IMPORTANT!" she snarls back. "It says right here, you ARE good for something - I can take a tax deduction for you NOT WORKING!"

With this scene in my mind, I continued reading more of the responses to the question, imagining the reaction of my fictional taxpayer:

yes u can if u was takin care of him all year and if he is under 22

"I WAS takin' care of him," the lady thinks to herself. "But he's...24. Crap." 

I claim my boyfriend and he is over 22. As long as he fits the criteria mentioned, he qualifies as a dependent.

"Well there you go!, she thinks. "Cha-CHING!" She reads on:

what if that boyfriend is 28 years old as of dec 31, 2010, has state medical assistance, and food stamps?

"WOW, now there's a helluva scenario," she thinks. "What if...?"

"....The taxpayer must provide more than half of the person’s total support for the year" in reference to claiming a boyfriend as a dependent, what paperwork exactly is needed to support this?

"Right - how do you PROVE it?"

Can i be claimed by my bf if i meet all those criteria but made $4200 myself and he helped support my two children?

"Well, at least he helped you with the kids, sister."

What if I claim him and he owes money for student loans, will they take my tax return????

"What do his student loans have to do with it?"

i have a boyfriend thats in jail that i have been supporting for about 3 years now can i claim him

"WHOA," she thinks. "At least I'm not supporting a convict! That lady's got it BAD!"

She exits out of the message board and enters the information to claim her boyfriend as a dependent, turning her running total into a modest tax refund. "Maybe this year will be better," she thinks as she closes her laptop. She's feeling a little bit better about things; those comments on the message board helped. After all, misery loves company.

 

Unbalanced

TODAY IS ONE OF THOSE DAYS - no, weeks - that makes you realize how delicate the balance is of work vs. family... and also humbles you into remembering that sometimes, despite elaborate plans and optimistic intentions, it isn't always possible to do it all. At least not on your own terms.  And for someone like me, with control-freak tendencies, that's hard.

(Lest you think I'm left to deal with this on my own, please know I'm feeling grateful to have a spouse who is more than willing to share the load. His week has been blown up, too. But today it was my turn.)

I'm lucky to have a job where I can flex my hours and arrange my schedule to accommodate the frequent personal crises that come up. I can often telecommute if I need to. But as great as that sounds to someone who doesn't have that option, it's not without cost. Especially if you have a sick or needy kid in the house. Or two! Working at home is one thing when you're alone, but quite another if you're not.

Peezer decided that he had a wicked headache last night, and said he still had it this morning. I'm almost 100% sure he isn't capable of the theatrics that would be necessary to trick this experienced mom into believing he had a malady was anything but legitimate. And let's face it, as much as grown-ups need the occasional mental health day, you have to believe kids do, too. So whatever it was, he wanted his mom, and I said okay.

Seth is still home, and needing extra help (ice, pain medication, waitress services). Yesterday, he got a hard, removable boot, instead of an actual cast, but we're still waiting on approval for an alternative to crutches, which, owing to his left-side weakness, won't work. So today, I set about begging and pleading trying to obtain the blessing  act of Congress Royal Decree approval for Seth to get one of those knee-scooter thingies so he can maneuver at school next week. This involved two calls to the orthopedic doctor's office to request a letter of medical necessity, several calls with the medical supply store, and two calls to the insurance company, which I had to make because apparently the provider's line shuts down at 11:30 a.m. on Fridays. Because I guess people don't have medical needs on weekends. (WTF, Carefirst?)

So much for my mammogram, which I'd finally scheduled for this morning. I've been carrying around the prescription since my annual exam in August and delaying it because... well, I don't know why, it's like there's never a good time to do these things, but I finally did schedule it, largely because of her, and because I know it's ridiculous to postpone these things. Only you can't take a headachey seven year old and prop him in the waiting room with a Nintendo DS and tell him to just hang out till Mommy's done.

Meanwhile, I'm supposed to be telecommuting. Remember that? And that is the other hidden challenge in what may seem on the surface to be a pretty sweet gig: I don't get sick days. I can take off, but I don't get paid. My clients still expect their projects to be completed. But try telling that to the seven year old who's like, "Mama, can I watch that funny video of the preschooler?" when I'm trying to crunch spreadsheets and - ironically - assist an employee whose kid was not properly enrolled for coverage.

And yes, I do understand the irony of blogging instead of finishing that spreadsheet, but my concentration is elsewhere now and my heart just isn't in it. Because two of my kids need me today. And so that is where I need to focus.

That doesn't stop me from fantasizing about martinis and manicures and sneaking away to warm, tropical locations... but unless the Money Fairy drops a big bag o'cash on my front step, I'm going to have to finish my work. But probably not till tomorrow. Because today, I gotta be Mom.

 

Broken

YOU KNOW HOW SOME DAYS, everything that happens to you is tied together with a common theme, a leitmotif if you will? Yesterday's theme was BROKEN. 

And yes, I realize these are first-world problems, but still, they are my problems and this is my blog and so I am going to tell you about them.

I took the 'Burb back to the body shop that fixed it in December because the right-side headlights - the ones they had replaced - were noticeably dimmer than the ones on the left.  We waited, thinking it would be an quick 'n' easy swap of defective headlights for new.

Peezer was very patient. Here, he is lobbying me for an E5, after consuming an A6. I spent $2.25 on a junk-food breakfast for him while we cooled our heels.

Alas, as these things often go, it wasn't a quick fix, so they finally put me into a rental car and sent us on our merry way.

Meanwhile, yesterday was a Federal Holiday so the boys were off school. After a morning of quiet reflection on the importance of Martin Luther King, Jr.'s contributions to the advancement of racial equality in the United States of America sleeping in and playing video games, Seth decided to go longboarding on a sunny, cold Monday. As I was fetching Peezer from an afternoon playdate, Seth called me, the distress in his voice evident: "WHERE ARE YOU?"

Me: "I'm on my way home, where are YOU?"

Him: "In the 'hood. Can you come pick me up?"

Me: "Why, what happened?"

Him: "I think I broke my foot."

Thank goodness he was wearing his helmet. If only he'd worn it on his FOOT.

It wasn't dramatic, but the swelling was evident and he was in pain, so Curt hustled him out for a fun evening at the ER where they confirmed our suspicions, wrapped his foot, gave him a Vicodin and sent him home with instructions to get a cast in the next day or two.

 

Honestly, we're taking this in stride. This was our first ER visit since February 2006! And it's the first broken bone for any of our kids.  Of course, this is going to put a big damper on that whole learning-to-drive thing. You see, last Friday, Seth obtained his learner's permit (he aced the exam!). I don't want to say I'm relieved, but... well, part of me isn't upset about having to wait a little while longer on that.

While they were at the ER, I got on the phone with Maneesh, a nice man at Verizon DSL who walked me through countless ipconfigs and pings and restarts, all in the name of restoring wireless internet and, consequently, calm to this increasingly wired family. The DSL quit working on Friday, right after I'd spent almost three hours at the MVA with Seth, and I just didn't have the energy to call India then.  We were away for the weekend, but the minute we returned, the boys were all MOM, CAN YOU PLEEEEEASE FIX THE INTERNET??? (Well, no, I can't fix the Internet, but I can try to restore connectivity to our home, would that work?)

Never mind the fact that I can't Facebook  play Words with Friends  Blog  work if I don't have internet access. It was as if they were afraid I would forget!

The sillies!

After 90 minutes of "Yes, ma'am, okay ma'am, would you please try one thing for me, ma'am?", Maneesh determined that while he had successfully restored DSL connectivity, I was on my own with the wireless router. Maneesh helpfully offered to connect me with their "Expert Care" service, where, for $14.99 for a "six month subscription" they would help me get it up and running. I said no thanks, Maneesh, give me a tracking number and I'll try it myself. 

 And guess what?  I GOT IT WORKING AGAIN!

I'm trying hard not to be smug, Maneesh, but I've got your Expert Care right here, buddy. 

So, to recap: The internet is fixed, the patient is resting comfortably, and I'm about to go take one of Seth's Vicodin return the rental car and pick up my beloved Burb.  You see? We have problems and we address them head-on and we FIX. THEM.

Now, who wants to come help me assemble a coffee table that's been in its box since it arrived almost two weeks ago? Anyone? Bueller?? 

 

The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year

I KEEP TRYING TO SING THAT SONG TO MYSELF because it helps me -if only a little bit - to squelch my inner Grinch. It just doesn't feel like Christmas is less than two weeks away.

We've put up our Christmas tree and decorated the house. Much of the shopping is done. Tacky Christmas ties and jewelry have been donned.  We've attended a couple of holiday parties.

And we've baked cookies. Which should really get me in the spirit, right? This year, we went from this

to this

in 48 short hours! And there are what, 12 more days until Christmas? At this pace, I'll need to make like six more batches of Sand Tarts! But everyone loves 'em. And we don't bake them so we can look at them, do we? (Visit my other blog, My Grandmas' Recipes, to get the recipe.)

Meanwhile, Peezer has begun a martial arts class, which he looooves, but which has me scrambling to get home early enough from work to take him on Tuesdays. Then Seth finally admitted he felt yucky enough yesterday to allow me to take him to the doctor, so I scheduled a telecommuting day around that. Not to mention, December is the busiest time for an HR professional, and I'm busy TIMES FIVE CLIENTS right now. But it sure beats unemployment!

It's a juggling act around here, people. It's all about time management.  Though sometimes I wonder if I unintentionally sabotage myself.

Last week, I picked up the Suburban from the repair shop, returned the service loaner, and had enough time to make it to pick up Peezer on time without rushing. However, I encountered a patch of stop and go traffic, and unfortunately, the guy in front of me stopped and I.... go-ed. Right into the big metal bracket on the back of his vehicle where the spare tire should have been. Normally, if it's Suburban versus Honda CRV, you'd put your money on the Burb. Not so this time:

Ugh. Well, no air bags deployed, no one was injured, the other driver was pretty nice about it, both vehicles were driveable, and the insurance process has been fine. But it's just one more thing to have to deal with at an already-busy time of year.

At least I didn't wreck the service loaner!

So now I'm zipping around town in a rented Nissan Altima. Which is actually cool, because, unlike my land yacht giant SUV, I can park an Altima in a DC garage, so I'm going to take a break from Metro and drive downtown this week. Which will probably make me appreciate my Metro commute.

Still. I've loaded Christmas music onto my smart phone so I can listen to it. I have a stack of greeting cards and four books of stamps and I'm kinda looking forward to that project. Curt's talking about cranking out another issue of our famous annual newsletter, "The Leek." 

And amid all the hustle and fuss, I've received a few reality checks. A beloved teacher at our middle school just died after a two-year battle with cancer. An older cousin went out to cut down a tree by himself and was struck and killed when it fell.  Blog-friends are facing challenges: One's facing her first Christmas without her husband, who died earlier this year. Another is in the midst of an ongoing struggle to overcome cancer. The list goes on.

My challenges seem like pure fluff when you consider all of that.

So, Deck the Halls and all that stuff. THIS is what I need right now:

 

THAT's what Christmas is all about, Charlie Brown. The rest is just... fluff.