My Work Wife

I have two wives, but by no means am I a polygamist.

You know about Renee. She’s the love of my life. The mother of my children. The world’s greatest math teacher. The planner, check-book-balancer and trip navigator. She’s my real wife. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

What she’s not, however, is my work wife. That’s Sara.

(And, before I tell you more about this whole thing, you should check Sara out here. She’s a new blogger, and her concept is a good one. Check her out.)

That wikipedia even defines work wife is a pretty interesting thing. But again, they define everything.

I’ve been surrounded by women in basically every job I’ve ever had. I find it much easier to work for a woman than a man. Not sure why, just do. Three of my four closest friends from college are women. What can I say, I’m a chick magnet. 😉 But then again, most of you reading this are female, so you already know this, don’t you?!

And this is one of the reasons why Renee is so great — because she understands this. Well, I’m not sure if she totally understands it, but she deals with it — incredibly well, I might add.

I’m also the type that tends not to bring work home with me. I have a 30-minute commute, and I use that time to unwind and let go of all the stuff I just went through during the day. It’s not that I don’t want to talk to Renee about work, I don’t want to talk to anyone about work — when I’m not at work.

I love my job, and I love where I do it. However, there are moments. There are always moments. And it’s an important thing to have a bond with someone that you can gripe with and be frustrated with. Someone that you know gets it and understands the nuances. Someone that is usually going through the same type of situation, just in a different department. Someone who you can gossip with and discuss all the latest rumors with. And, quite honestly, someone you can just completely let go with.

That’s Sara. And it has been for a few years.

I tell her things about work I don’t tell anyone else, and she does the same. We can talk about anyone or anything. We have a secret handshake, and quite frankly, if it’s noon, we’re doin’ it.

We came up with that one planning a lunch. We try to go to lunch every couple of weeks. It helps keep us sane. And I’m a bit OCD about lunch. If I don’t eat at noon, I don’t do well the rest of the day. I’m a little regimented.

So one day, we were setting up lunch and the conversation was like, “so what are we doing for lunch?”

“Oh, we’re doin’ it.”

“Noon, right?”

“Yeah, I mean, if it’s noon, we’re doin’ it.”

You might not find that funny, but we think it’s hysterical. And I suppose that’s all that matters. Lunch with Sara is always a great time. We’ve talked funny stuff, serious stuff and funny and serious stuff. Either way, it’s always fun.

The last lunch we had was a perfect example of how we know each other at work. I was having a relatively bad day. I was being questioned about something by the president. And I was right, but in order to appease him, it was going to take me about four to five hours of (unnecessary) work.

I wasn’t upset. I wasn’t frustrated. I wasn’t ticked off. I was pissed. Borderline livid.

Sara sensed it immediately, realizing what state I was in. She’s seen me in all of the above moods, but she knew this one had really set me off. And she was right. She then made it her mission to cheer me up. And it worked. She did it. And she did it well.

Sara and I call a really great lunch a ‘classic’ — for one reason or another. This was definitely a classic. It had a ton of emotion in it, particularly when, after building me up, she broke the news that she was taking another job. Not a promotion or swith here. Another job. As in another place.

My work wife was leaving me. Oh the drama.

Not so. More happiness. She’s getting a promotion, a significant salary increase and a much shorter commute. She wrestled with this, and it was important for her to talk about it with me. That’s what the relationship is about. We went from me being pissed, to us laughing and making fun of our incompetent waitress to the seriousness of a job change.

Our lunches have touched on everything over time. Discussions about life, death and everything in between. A job change was just another topic for us to tackle.

Sara wanted my opinion and I gave it to her. First and foremost, you look out for number one. She did. Do I wish that she was staying? Of course I do. But she’s doing the best for her. That’s what matters. To me. And, most importantly, to her.

And we’ll be fine. The beauty of this relationship is that while it’s steeped in work, it’s gone beyond that.

I may be losing my work wife, but I am forever keeping a friend.



One Year Ago Today

My baby girl turns 1 today.

Dear Erin,

Happy Birthday, baby girl! You are 1 today. Your Mom and I can hardly believe it.

You truly are my little girl. I adore everything about you. And always will. Your blue eyes, Erin, just captivate me. It’s as if I could stare at you all day. Of course, I probably could. I don’t even notice your lip anymore. I really don’t. It bothered me at first, but now I know it’s just part of who you are — and that it will go away over time.

Your enjoyment of music is one of my most favorite things. I love to watch you ‘bop’ to any music we play or sing. It makes me think ahead to when your 8 or 9 and I bring you to your first concert to see the latest and greatest boy band of the day.

I completely cherish our special time, Erin. And for me, that’s putting you down each night. Holding you in my arms while I give you your bottle. Well, I can’t think of anything much better than that. I love looking at your while you are in my arms and I love talking to you — telling you how special you are and how much we all love you.

And that includes Aidan. He does love you, Erin. I know he does. He’s incredibly protective of you, as a big brother should be. But, I can see it in your eyes, Erin. One of these days, you’re just going to bop him, aren’t you?

I shouldn’t tell you this, Erin. But when you do bop him one day, I may say something strong to you at the time, but know inside I’ll be laughing like crazy!

You are our little angel, Erin. One day you’ll understand what an emotional time it was for us when you were born. Your Uncle Tim, who would so adore you, passed away suddenly less than a week after you were born. It made me raise so many questions. It made me question my faith in ways I never imagined.

But it also made me appreciate you so much more. Life was given. Life was taken. And you, littlest bit, brought so much joy to our family in a time we still have difficulty talking about. One day, you’ll know this.

When I look at you, Erin, I see the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. I see your blue eyes, your smile, your wide-eye curiosity.

And I also see your Uncle Tim. That, Erin, is perhaps your most special gift. Every time I look at you, I am reminded of your uncle. I can’t think of a better way for you to pay tribute to the uncle you’ll never meet yet who you will be forever connected to.

I love you, Erin Margaret. Thank you for brightening our day — every day.


Mmm. Cake.

You Asked for Pictures, I Give You Pictures

OK, you have spoken. And, yes, I will tell the Rachel Ray story. At some point. 🙂

First, some pictures, which should update you on a few things that have been going on here lately.

Without further adieu, let’s get to it:

So Erin got her hair cut. This was a couple months ago. I know, I know. Her bangs are ready for another trim already!

Henry obviously thought she looked pretty good.

And while Erin and Henry were making nice, Aidan was getting to know his friend, Will.

Ah, yes. The basement. This is the outside, obviously. But the water, should it come, needs to go somewhere. Better in the yard than in the TV room.

Inside the house. That gray pipe was put down all around the inside of the foundation after they jackhammered a trench that created, oh, I don’t know, six million pounds of dust.

Same vantage point, only this time showing theh cement they then put back in the floor. Of course, keep in mind that we now basically have to redo the finished room, because what you see on the right, that’s two feet of the paneling and sheetrock that had to be removed.

I know it’s not pretty, but the water has to get out of the house, and that’s what you see here. The pipes (and the down spout) are going into one underground pipe that goes in the trench in the first picture. And that other hideous thing? Radon fan.

So our town has this thing called Touch A Truck Day. This is Aidan at the controls of an excavator. Something about the glare in the picture actually makes me like it more. And, of course, there’s his smile.

Erin discovered that as long as she’s with Mom, this slide thing can be pretty fun!

Erin’s first parade (Memorial Day) was a huge success!

Aidan loved the parade, too!

Excuse the quality of the photo, but that’s Aidan waving to the crowd after being presented with his ‘diploma’ from the three-year-old program at his nursery school!

So, as you can see, a lot has been going on.

I’m going to make you a promise this week, however. I will be posting every day. I owe it to you.

And, quite honestly, it’s going to be an emotional week or so. Erin’s turns 1 on Tuesday the 10th and then it’ll be a rough time remembering my brother, Tim. Bear with me.

And thanks for sticking by me. I appreciate it.

What else? I got nothin’.

I’m Here. Honest.

Loyal readers (by now, that’s probably both of you),

It’s been madness. Pure madness.

First of all, thank you all for your supportive words about my last post. It helped. A lot.

And, as an update, my friend is in the middle of at least a 21-day stay in a treatment facility. So that is a good thing. A very good thing.

But, here I am, June 2, with a lot to tell you. Where do I start?

That’s where you come in.

Here are three choices. You tell me which you want to hear first.

  • The Rachel Ray story — at long last
  • The story of me and my work wife
  • Pictures from Erin’s first hair cut

And a bonus…pictures of the long-awaited basement project.

Your wish is my command, readers.

What else? I got nothin’.