You can't fix stupid

Remember that phrase "stupid is as stupid does" from the film Forrest Gump? Well, my husby coined the 2.0 version of this phrase, "you can't fix stupid." One could apply this phrase to a myriad of issues...the Wall Street crash, American car companies, Bernie Madoff, "Speidi," etc.

Let me give the background on my husband's personality and how his phrase came to be. Whenever I vent to him about something that pissed me off during the day (I know, that's so unlike me), he will answer me with a succinct and pithy response.

This past week at work, I was drafting a communication that contained a URL to an internal SharePoint site. I clicked on the link to confirm that it was working and also to be nosy and see what the site was about. The site served its purpose (informing managers about the upcoming associate satisfaction survey...blah blah blah), but one thing stood out. And not in a good way.

There was scrolling text scrolling SLOOOOOWLY across the top of the screen. No, it was not a stockticker. And, no, it was not breaking news. Alas, tt was the title of the site and the dates of the survey. I freaked. What the hell was up with the scrolling text?!?! Dude, it's 2009! Scratch that, scrolling text has NEVER been a plus except for the two examples I mentioned. It's distracting, confusing, annoying, unprofessional, immature and not to mention, LOOKS BUTT. LOOKS ASS. LOOKS EXTREMELY AMATUERISH.

But, don't take my word for it. Jackob Nielsen, the foremost authority in web usability, includes scrolling text as one of the "Top Ten Mistakes in Web Design," which, by the way, was written back in 1996, so this is not a new fad, people. If you are interested, the list was also revisited in 1999. Guess what? Nielsen concluded that scrolling text still sucked. Okay, he didn't use the word "sucked," but let me take some artistic license here, alright?

Any web designer/developer worth his or her grain in salt treats Nielsen's research as gospel. My husby, besides being incredibly funny, charming and handsome, is also a web developer. I myself, though not a designer or developer, have worked more than 10 YEARS with those said people doing things like designing and developing websites.

In fact, my initial project at my first job out of college was revamping a company's website. At 22 years of age, I was given the task of cataloging the existing site's content, researching content for the new site, creating a feasible budget, timeline and project scope, finding a web development vendor and project managing the entire kit and kaboodle. Normally I don't like to brag, but I ROCKED that project! The site went from trashy to classy -- if I may paraphrase the esteemed Maury Povich.

I do digress -- and I do that a lot, so please forgive me. Anyways, my manager took the burden off my shoulders and replied to the client that the scrolling text should be removed and replaced with static text. I sighed with relief. I had panicked for no reason. Surely the client would take his advice and we'd all move on, right? WRONG.

She proceeded to tell my manager and I that the associate engagement leads (I think that's some kind of HR-type role, but not in any way, shape or form related to design/development) for the survey LOVED the scrolling text and wanted it. LOVED scrolling text? What, are they friggin' blind??? My manager, ever so smooth and diplomatic, replied that the text could simply appear on the screen once and then become static. The client nixed that as well. Scrolling was the ONLY way they'd go.

Now, keep in mind that this SharePoint site was created to house information that managers would access to prepare themselves in discussing and reviewing the upcoming satisfaction survey with their employees. Nothing on the site could be seen as news or stock updates. There was no value-add to keep the scrolling text. Well, besides that it was apparently loved by people.
I LOVE Hello Kitty, but that doesn't mean she gets to appear on any site I create professional content for.

I decided I had to help out my boss, so I scheduled a conference call the next morning to tighten up the communication and give one last-ditch effort at banishing the evil scrolling text. I have to admit, I was quite slick...or so I thought. I asked, "So besides, removing the scrolling text, do we have any other items to discuss?" figuring that the client would say yes and keep it movin'. WRONG AGAIN!

Here are the reasons she shot us down (again):

• Scrolling text is used "all over." NO COMMENT. I CAN'T. I JUST CAN'T.
  
• Scrolling text is used by news stations. Oh right, I forgot that we were working on Anderson Cooper's CNN site.
  
• They worked so hard on the site, why slam them? Last time I checked, I am a professional doing a professional job...where did FUCKING FEELINGS come into play? And who's slamming anything? It's called CONSTRUCTIVE -- and in this case, necessary -- feedback.

My boss, sensing the conversation spiraling out of control, gave it one last attempt. He mentioned my company's online marketing team advised against using scrolling text and other unnecessary animation. Mind you, this is the same web team that won an award from JAKOB NIELSEN a few years ago for the redesign of our internal, global employee site. The client's reply? "Aren't those the same folks that don't like Flash and yet they use it now?"

I had to mute the phone and scream. WHAT THE FUCK?!?!?! Oh yeah, I'm so sure that our online marketing team said to never use Flash. What they probably said was to not use HOKEY, homemade animation like...wait for it...SCROLLING TEXT. The Flash pieces they have created are amazing and support the business lines appropriately. But, then again, what do we know? We're only the experts!

As long as everyone gets what they LOVE and no one gets SLAMMED, then la-di-da, who cares about professionalism, polish and presenting a results-oriented project?

Maybe it's your va-jay-jay

I’ve got a silly rant today. One of my biggest pet peeves are people at work that always have to wrinkle their noses dramatically and ask “whose food smells???” whenever there are unfamiliar food smells – which, if you work in a diverse company filled with people who eat all kinds of food – is bound to happen. These morons also have to sniff profusely several times just in case you are retarded like them and don’t understand what all the nose wrinkling and questions mean.

Today I was tired and cranky because last night I broke down and had some fast food. It was a moment of weakness that wasn’t worth it. I got out of my jail, er cube, and headed over to the kitchenette on my floor to microwave my Medifast soup – needed to get back on the healthy eating track after slipping so fast and furiously. On the way to the kitchen, a strong odor in the hallway assaulted my olfactory glands...smelled like fish that went bad. I didn’t really care because I didn’t smell it anymore once I hit the kitchen.

While I was warming up soup, I sat at one of the café-like tables (ooh la la, so French and yet so cheap) and perused some financial advisor brochures someone had left out. Not that I have money that would be worthwhile for any FA to manage, but I’m weird – I love looking at brochures to examine the paper stock and weight, font selections, stock images, etc. I guess I do this because I’m in marketing communications and those details are my life.

I do digress. Just as I closed my eyes to relax, an annoyingly perky voice exclaimed, “Something smells funky! What is that? What food is that? Whose food is that?” while wrinkling her nose and making the aforementioned exaggerated sniffing sounds. I was irritable and not in the mood to deal with lame people (not that I’m ever in the mood for that!). The three other people in the room and I ignored her at first, but she would NOT give up her smell investigation.

“What is that funky smell??” was repeated by said idiot about five times. I couldn’t stand it anymore. I finally broke down and answered, “well, it’s ain’t (yes I know I am in communications, but I do not always speak properly, okay?) mine because I have flavorless beef stew from my diet plan (I like to refer to it as my alternative eating lifestyle).” She actually responded, “Oh yeah, maybe it’s the soup!” Yup, she’s not the brightest bulb in the Home Depot or insert your preferred big box store here. I rolled my eyes and sighed. Oh great, I thought to myself, freakin’ CSI Hopewell over here wants to get to the bottom of the mystery smell.

She proceeds to reveal that the smell is “interesting” in addition to being “funky.” Kind of like CHINESE FOOD she proclaimed. WHAT THE FUCK???? Oh yeah and you would know because you eat so much AUTHENTIC Chinese food, right? I was extremely pissed off now. “Umm…yea no. I am Chinese and cook and eat Chinese food and it does not smell INTERESTING and/or FUNKY.” She then attempted desperate damage control and said, “Oh, I think Chinese food smells good, though.” OKAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY…Needless to say, I was so over this corny chick already. But I wish I had said what I think really smelled…HA!

Daycare = anti-christ?

Oh boy, how long has it been since I last posted? I did write a thank you note to you, my dear readers, back in August before I left on vacation with the fam. That was a cop-out, because I didn't have the time or energy to write a real Hatewatchers-worthy post.

And where have I been since August you ask? After Labor Day, I prepared myself to go back to corporate work. I haven't been "off" this summer sunning in St. Tropez -- I've been on maternity leave taking care of Baby Boy. On September 9, I walked into my office building and Baby Boy started daycare onsite. Contrary to what many other working mothers told me, I didn't cry, get depressed, etc. I also didn't blow up the phonelines at daycare and did not stop by to see Baby. No need to...he's fine. Husby and I pay daycare to take care of our son during the day while we work hard for our family. I have full trust in daycare and will continue to until they give me reason not to.

The vacation was a much-needed break from hell, i.e., other parents. (This is my variation of Jean-Paul Sartre's most famous line of dialogue, "Hell is other people.") As you know, if you've read any of my past posts, I hate other parents. Not ALL other parents, just ones that piss me the fuck off. Which, is about 99% of the parents I come in contact with. Actually, I should amend my comments and redirect my anger towards other mothers. Fathers are not so bad. Women suck. Again, please understand I don't mean all women suck and I don't mean all fathers are not so bad. Some fathers suck, too. I will pontificate on that in a future post, I promise.

Okay, I'm off the topic once again. So, back to daycare. Yes, know-it-all moms, I am aware that daycare is a hotbed for germs and Baby will catch colds there. No shit! You know what other location is a germ factory? OFFICES! Yes, from Monday through Friday, I am surrounded by people coughing, hacking, snorting (no, not the fun stuff, just regular snorting), sneezing, wheezing, burping and all sorts of bodily functions. I have gotten sick quite a number of times from work. And yet, I still go. Amazing!

Listen, Baby Boy is going to be exposed to germs. It's life. I want him to enjoy his childhood, which means playing with other kids that may or may not have colds. I want him to play in the dirt and have fun. That's what NORMAL children do.

Another retarded comment I hear from other parents. Now this one I get from moms and dads. "Daycare is soooo expensive!" Yes, it's so expensive. I should just hire a unqualifed person to watch my child so I can pay her/him the minimum wage or less. I may be able to negotiate this person down further if there is a lack of CPR training, credentials, references, etc. Isn't it sad how we love to nickel and dime people that take care of our children, enrich their minds and ensure their wellbeing? Teachers, daycare workers, nannies, au pairs, etc., are all are paid "too much."

I look at it like this. I work at a Fortune 500 company. I want to have peace of mind during the workday so I can get my shit done and get it done right. A big part of that peace comes from having my Baby being taken care of by qualified and loving people. Those people should have the same type of benefits I do: paid holidays, sick days, health insurance, life insurance and all that good stuff.

Now, caretakers having those benefits doesn't guarantee nothing will ever happen to my child. It simply means my child is taken care of by people that have fair and balanced benefits. People that can call out if they are sick. People that have vacations. All those benefits cost money. I am happy to pay what I pay because I know that you pay for what you get.

In the end, the most important thing is that Baby is happy. And boy, is he! Already a smiley guy, he smiles even more now. Already a great sleeper, he sleeps even longer now. Already a great eater, he eats even better now. What more can I ask for? Some would say, a discount coupon. I would say, just keep my child happy and healthy.

Things are gonna happen. Bumps and bruises will occur at daycare. You know how I know that? Because all of these things happened and will happen on our own watch. Let's not go insane and expect our children's caretakers to be perfect people until we are. Besides, perfect is boring. Don't you want to play in the dirt sometimes?

Very niiice!

Dear Loyal and Newbie Hatewatchers,

Your feedback — positive and negative — inspires and motivates me to keep writing and hatewatching. I wrote my first post "Attack of the Breastfeeding Nazis" because I was pissed off and wanted to vent constructively instead of keying up someone's car. So, I decided to restart my Hatewatchers blog (previously on WordPress now on Blogger) so I could get all my feelings down on paper (screen?). I never expected the breastfeeding post to go anywhere beyond serving as my sounding board. Instead, I've received much love and support from friends, fam and my online community.

Last year I had started the original Hatewatchers blog and didn't really focus on it enough to make it interesting. This year, becoming a mother allowed me to see the world through an alternate set of glasses. Sometimes this is great because I see the good that is out there, but many times, it hurts because I see more bullshit and hate.

Last week, I wrote about inane people commenting on my five-month old's "serious" weight problem and received a flood of encouraging feedback. Thanks for having my back and keeping it real.

I'd love to hear from you...got ideas, criticisms, suggestions? Holla at me.

Peace,
Ms. Hatewatcher

Fatty fatty two by four

Does anyone know of a local Baby Weight Watchers program I can enroll my five-month old in? Apparently, "experts" (clueless friends, relatives of friends, etc.,) have confirmed that my son is overweight. Yes, you read it here. My baby boy is already fat and in desperate need of a pilates class.

Now, I admit I am fat (and have even more to love now that I have had a baby) and need to get my physical fitness on more, but I am an adult. I can control what, how, where, when and why I eat. Sometimes I eat healthy and sometimes...not so much. I may eat sometimes even when I'm not hungry. But babies eat because they are...wait for it...hungry. Imagine that!

The first few times I was asked how much Baby ate, I didn't mind at all. Now after being asked over and over (and now by the same people over and over), it is really getting FUCKING TIRED. Get a new question! (Click here to see other obnoxious stuff people ask/tell me.)

One friend of mine asks me all the time how much Baby is eating and a few times even laughed and mentioned that he ate as much as an almost-two year old in her family. Let me clarify. My Baby is almost five months old and eats about six to six-and-a-half ounces of formula at each feeding, which is well within guidelines. This amount varies during times he is in pain from teething (four or five ounces only) or is in a growth spurt (seven ounces). Formula is all that he consumes. The two-year old that my friend mentioned surely consumes more than just formula, right?

It's like this. If I said I drank eight ounces of soda a day only and another person drinks eight ounces of soda and eats three meals plus snacks daily...is that the fucking same, Sherlock?? (The answer is no, just in case you are a bit slow.)

So my Fat Baby is apparently able to deceive his pediatrician during our visits, because Dr. B proclaims Baby's development as "excellent" and has no qualms about telling me that Baby is in the 90th percentile for weight (16.5 pounds at a little over four months). Last time I checked, babies are supposed to have some meat on them, right? Guess I'm slacking as a parent. First, I stopped breastfeeding and pumping and now I am overfeeding my Baby.

Just because my Baby is on formula doesn't mean that he can be overfed. YOU try and give this kid more than what he wants...he goes ballistic!!! I don't know how other babies are (because I am no expert as my friend and her relatives are, ya know!) but I do know that my Baby will throw a fit if you over- or underfeed him. And, why in world would I WANT to overfeed my baby? That's soooooo strange...perhaps other people have tried this on their own babies???? Who knows...

Another friend of mine has asked me about Baby's formula intake before because her own daughter is four days younger and on formula as well. So, she and I tend to ask one other (politely, mind you) questions involving feeding, milestones, etc. It's not a contest, we just want to gauge if we have the opportunity to exchange tips and share in the joy of our children developing at the same time.

The friend that kept asking me how much Baby ate for no reason also mentioned that people she was talking to mentioned Baby was overweight. Who are these people?? Do they work with Dr. B? If they know SO MUCH about my Baby, why don't they come over here and talk care of him for me, then? Better yet, pay some damn bills around here and shut the fuck up. Another great example of clueless, nosy, ridiculous people butting their noses into business they know nothing about.

They have no idea how hard I work to take care of Baby all day. They have no idea how I ensure he is fed properly. THEY are not around when he's in terrible pain from teething and can barely eat...which would be a win for them because then hopefully he'll lose some of that weight already, sheesh!

These dim people must admire those poor starving babies in Somalia and other third-world countries. All those ribs jutting out, fabulous. I can't wait to get my Baby on a rigorous exercise routine so he can wear his Speedo to the pool by Labor Day!

Just kidding! Seriously, though, we all have insecurities as parents. It's natural to doubt oneself at times. But, do not let your own lack of confidence became the reason for slinging arrows at my family. We are doing well and Baby is fly, fresh and flavorful...accordingly to all the feedback we receive from practically everyone my husby and I know. Not bad for a fat kid, huh?

Does Brad Pitt change diapers?

I never realized just how crazy and nosy people were until I became pregnant last June. People of all types (but mostly females, because as you know from my previous posts, they are motherfucking bonkers) would say to me and ask me super-TMI stuff.

My baby is now four months old and the insanity hasn't stopped. Here are some high(low?)lights:

• Now that you know you are having a baby...the question is...are you two ready? (This coming from husby's "ultra-supportive" mother.)
  
• Had you and your husband been trying to have a baby? (Oh, I'm sorry, I should have leaked the tapes like Ray-J and Kim Kardashian...)
  
• Wow, you became pregnant so quickly after getting married! (CSI over here...nothing gets by you, huh?)
  
• Wasn't she on the pill, though? (This came from one of my husby's male friends. Don't ask.)
• Did you circumcise your baby? (No comment...)
  
• Are you breastfeeding? Why not? (More on this sensitive topic can be found at my now infamous "Attack of the Breastfeeding Nazis" post.)
• You should have more kids. (This topic will be covered in a future post, I promise.)
  
• Does your husband change diapers????????????????

Okay, I really want to talk about that last question. Yes, my dear husby changes diapers. What kind of a question is that? No one asks him if I change diapers. The first few times I was asked this question, I didn't even care. Now, after being asked this on a daily basis, I am starting to get really pissed off. Hence this post.

I'm not here to spout off a bunch of feminist propaganda. And I know that every family and every relationship is different. What works for me may not work for everyone. People tell me all the time how wonderful my husband is because he changes diapers and takes care of the baby as often as he can when he is not working, commuting, running errands, etc. Don't get me wrong, I agree that husby is awesome...but not because he changes diapers. He is SUPPOSED TO DO THAT. I AM SUPPOSED TO DO THAT. THIS IS OUR CHILD, NUMBNUTS!

Husby is the shit (no pun intended!) because he supports me in all my endeavors while also reigning me when necessary. Before the baby was born, I never thought to ask husby IF he was going to change diapers and perform all the other baby-related tasks (well, not breastfeeding, duh). I KNEW he was going to do those things. I wouldn't have married the cat if I was unsure. I mean, really. Wake up, it's 2009.

Now, I'm not trying to sit here and say that he should do exactly 50% of the baby stuff. He can't...he owns his own company and has to work full-time plus. The thing is, I am ALSO working full-time plus. I may be on leave from my corporate job, but I am definitely putting in that overtime. So, because we both work like crazy, why should one of us get out of doing fundamental baby tasks?

Another interesting question related to the diapers topic is, "Are you back at work yet?". Hmm, no, I am still on vacation, I mean, maternity leave. Again, I know people mean no harm when they ask this, but again, COME ON. I thought I worked crazy hours at my corporate job! The baby keeps me busy even when he is down for a nap or for the night. I'm not one of the Real Housewives. I run a company, it's called Home, Inc. My husband and I are the co-CEOs and we have one direct report, the baby. In order to keep Home running smoothly, he and I have contribute as much as we can financially, emotionally, physically, etc.

Husby and I work together so that shit gets done. It doesn't really matter who does it. At the end of the day, the most important thing is that the baby is happy and healthy. That can only be accomplished by us being strong partners.

Singled out

My dear friend Lady X is a beautiful, caring, intelligent woman with a flourishing career as a communications professional. She has a great sense of humor and loves to watch quirky indie films. Her shoe, clothing and accessories games are all on point. But, there is something tragically wrong with her...she is over 25 and SINGLE. Gasp! Heavens, no! Burn her at the stake now!

You may wonder — as so many in her life seem to do — how is a woman like that single? They are boggled and bewildered. I'm not, because I've been single and loved it. Don't get me wrong, I love my dear husby and would never wish to be without him — we have a wonderful life together. But, when I was single, life was good as well. Coming and going as I pleased. Leaving the apartment a mess or cleaning it as I deemed fit. My apartment's super would fix anything that went wrong upon being paged (as opposed to the joys of home ownership where anything that could go wrong does).

Being single for a few years made me the woman, wife and mother I am today. I am confident, happy and love a challenge. During my single years, I realized how valuable I am and was determined to stay single unless the right guy came along. I could care less if I was dateless to parties and thrived on being able to make plans based on my schedule alone. I strongly believe my happiness and purpose during this time lead me to fall in love with now husby. More importantly, I was open to the idea of not finding anyone at all.

The old saying "you can't be loved until you love yourself" is so true. And in order to love yourself, you have to know yourself. Now, I'm not saying that if you haven't been single since you began dating that you are missing something from your life. I'm simply saying, let's lay off the single folks and let them lead their lives. I definitely am no authority on relationships just because I happen to be in one. I know how hard it is, especially as a single woman, to date (or not date). The constant search for one's "better half" can be exhausting. That's probably why I barely put in the effort during my single days!

Back to Lady X...sorry but if you are familiar with any of my other posts, you'll know that I digress a bit. A few weeks ago, Lady X and I were at a barbecue (the same one the Breastfeeding Nazi was at, by the way. If you haven't read this post yet, check it out...it's quite a doozy). Lady X and I have a mutual friend — Lady Y we'll call her — that is married with two children. Lady Y is one of the most loving and gracious people you will ever meet. She also happens to be very, er, forward, when it comes to her friends and their quests to find significant others and start families.

I always laugh when I think of all the cute e-mails she would send me containing jpegs of mixed-raced babies. These e-mails were supposed convince me to get crackin' on making babies with my then boyfriend now husby. I never minded her "gentle" hints because I knew she was half kidding and the half that was serious meant well. Lady Y is highly family-oriented and one of my role models. She only wants the best for her close friends (and everyone else for that matter).

Towards the end of the event, Lady X and I were conversing (probably about movies and books, our two fave topics) and Lady Y brought up the subject of having children. More specifically, when Lady X was going to start already. Lady X and I giggled and pretended to roll our eyes. We knew the drill. Then Lady Y chimed in something about having to bring Lady X to the sperm bank.

I, for once, was speechless. I couldn't even look at either of them. I didn't know whether to be upset or not. After all, Lady X is a grown woman and didn't need me to conduct any opening arguments for her. So, I chuckled uncomfortably and said, "[Lady Y], sperm bank? Whoa..."

A few days later Lady X and I were chatting and the sperm bank conversation came up. She revealed that she was, like me, flabbergasted and unsure of what to say and/or think. We both agreed that many people thought being single was like a pox on your life. Or to quote Carrie from Sex in the City, "when did being alone become the modern-day equivalent of being a leper?"

A leper Lady X is NOT. Yet, Lady X and I both knew that Lady Y didn't mean to be hurtful. She was trying to be cute and jokey (is that a word?), but failed in our eyes because the line was crossed. Lady X revealed to me that at a recent family dinner, her grandfather proclaimed, "guess you're giving up on finding a man, huh?" Nice. Well, if these types of comments don't motivate one to hurry up and find a man/woman/breathing creature, then I don't know what will!