I am obsessed...

This is very bad. Very, very bad. I have a hard enough time concentrating on my work as it is, but this is making it darn near impossible.

Isaac's BCT class has a facebook page. With pictures. Lots and lots of pictures. This is pretty much the most fantastic thing ever. This shouldn't take up very much time, but most of the pictures are group shots, so I have to really look at them to see if I can find Isaac. It's like a scavenger hunt, only this isn't really a party and I should really be doing something much more productive. Alas, I cannot. I realize it doesn't make a hill of beans worth of difference whether I know the precise activities they are doing each day, but I am incapable of not checking 50 times a day. I told you, I am obsessed.

Being able to see pictures and read updates about what Isaac is doing made for a super fun conversation on the phone yesterday .I about gave him a heart attack when he called and the first thing I said was "You look tired and sick. Have you been sick?" After he recovered from the aforementioned heartattack, he was very confused and said he'd had a sinus infection and a nasty cough and wondered how on earth I could possibly know how he looked.  I almost told him I'd developed the ability to astral-project and I was watching him, but then I figured he'd never buy that so I told him about the pictures.  I was also able to ask rather specific questions about what they'd learned in first aid ("How on earth did you know we'd done first aid?!" Status updates, husband. Status. Updates.) and 'combatives' (hand-to-hand fighting; hilarious pictures. Hilarious). It was great. I wish I'd figured out a cover story before he called, because I'd have liked to be able to keep up the appearance of omniscence a little while longer.

I love it.

In Which I am Grateful...

In a rather miraculous turn of events, the back issues that have made me miserable since Saturday are gone. Like, 100% gone. Much like the cause of the problem, there is no explanation for this change, but I am grateful. The world is looking much brighter today.

Hooray!

In Which I Complain...Bitterly and Without Remorse

1. I have done something to my back. Bending, moving, sitting, standing, etc... leads to major pain. I have a 25 lb baby who likes to be held. You can imagine that this does not go well. I want to cry a lot. I don't cry because it scares the baby. But I want to. Oh, do I want to.
2. I am trying to decipher the stupid Tricare handbook and I have misplaced my urim and thummim, making this task virtually impossible. If anyone has a Tricare Rosetta Stone, please send it my way. I'm about to go a little nuts over here.
3. Have I mentioned that I have done something to my back? I have never had back problems in my life and now I can't really move...it's a serious problem.
4. If I have to tell one more person, one more time, at work that I DON'T KNOW WHEN/IF MY PROJECT PROPOSAL WILL BE APPROVED SO STOP ASKING ALREADY, I might actually throw something. Something big. Out a window, perhaps.
5. Plane tickets are outrageously expensive. Stupid airline industry. If I was a person who cussed, you'd be blushing, airline industry people. Sailors would be uncomfortable with my language...if I was a person who cussed, of course.
6. So, I've managed to hurt my back. Severely and without apparent cause. Poor Levi does not understand why mom moves at the speed of a sloth. He has needs, darn it. Sloth-mom is not meeting those needs nearly fast enough.
7. I do not manage people. I manage products, which is why my title is "Product Manager". If someone could please explain to me why I am being required to attend training specifically for managers, despite the fact that I DO NOT MANAGE PEOPLE, I would greatly appreciate it.
8. I cannot, for the life of me, convince one of my students that 9/10 is exactly the same score as 90/100. He is certain that they are different and that I am somehow intentionally lowering his score and making his grade lower. I've explained that a 90% is an A-, whether he's earned 90% of 10 points or 90% of 100 points and he.just.doesn't.get.it.
9.  I would like it to be spring for real. Not this schizophrenic "spring" that cannot make up it's mind about whether it wants to be spring or winter. Give me sunshine, DARN IT.
10. My back is killing me. Killing.me.

That is all. Carry on.