Multitaskular

Can you fire your dying accountant?

So I've been using this accountant called Gene for the past few years who is a real laugh. I heard about him through a friend and since he lives about an hour away, I first started working with him over the phone. And... yes, his voice did sound a little old, but hey. I thought maybe he just smoked too much. I mean he seemed to know what he was talking about. Although to be honest, I'm so clueless when it comes to tax, Sarah Palin could probably bullshit me if she really tried. Okay, maybe not. I refudiate that. No way I'm that bad.

But it was only when I met him in person that I realized how astronomically old he really is. He looks like Al Roper. Remember him, the old dude from Three's Company. Except my accountant's 20 years older. So picture this guy but way, way older:

Like this:

But honestly, I didn't care. Gene's a riot, he knows his tax stuff and he makes me laugh. And anyone that is able to make me smile in the presence of IRS documentation and the impending gloom of writing a very large check deserves recognition. Deserves a freaking medal - the IRS medal of valor or something. 

Except now I have a problem. Gene has started forgetting things. Like filing my 2010 tax return. Or returning my phone calls. And that freaks me out. Because when you are as clueless as me, you need someone you can trust with your fax mess. And if there's one thing I know as a non-American-citizen, you don't mess with the IRS. Ever. 

So on a pure business level, I know it's time to find a new accountant. But I love Gene. I'm torn. I was going to call him last week and explain why I was moving on to a "younger model". But then I heard he was really sick. And I just didn't have the heart to pick up the phone and fire a dying man. So now I'm paying 2 accountants to prepare my tax return. I've asked Gene to mail his to me first so I can intercept it before it's mailed to the IRS. Although I'm secretly hoping he'll forget to do it... again. 

And that, my friends, is why my taxes are in such a state. You think the IRS will understand if I explain that I'm just too nice to pay taxes? Is there a deductible for caring and kindness? No. And the IRS wonders why they rate so low on popularity polls? They should follow Toyota's lead - you know how they give away free cars to nice people? The IRS should give tax breaks to nice people too. Because I wouldn't mind giving my hard earned cash to an organization that cared, just a little. Just saying.

And here's a shout-out to Gene. Get well soon my friend.

 

"Left in the darkness"

I had my latest post all planned out in my head. All neat and organized. Comfortable. But I found a website today (thanks Dooce) that shocked me beyond... beyond what? Hard to say. But beyond comfortable, that's for sure.

It tells Julie's story. Mostly in pictures. Without judgement and analysis. Without answers. Just tells it like it is. With love.

Tells it so beautifully that I'm sobbing. Sobbing for Julie. And for the millions of other abused kids out there. Kids who grow up believing they're not worthy. Not worthy of love and kindness and respect. And who ultimately get none. And the 17 million women living with HIV. And their kids. And how this stuff feels so distant. How it shouldn't.

And mostly I'm sobbing because I don't know how to help. How can we teach worthiness? I don't have an answer. But I care. I care so, so much. 

I think that Brene Brown might be onto something though. I don't think she's there yet, but I hope beyond hope she gets there. For all of us.

 

I think I can defeat the Grim Reaper with a jar of Vicks... kinda

I don't believe in new years resolutions. The way I see it, why would I want to start the year reviewing a list of things I hate about myself? And then spend the next few months beating myself up for not turning into Martha most-perfect Stewart. So as a result, right now I'm actually feeling really happy. I'm happy that I haven't let myself down. Happy that the holiday season is over. Happy that the sun is shining. And happy that my son's trembly, snotty, coughy, spluttery, fevery bronchitis is almost forgotten.

Well to clarify, he's almost forgotten about it. Me, not so much. Every time he's sick I'm reminded how easily he could be taken away from me. How suddenly my love affair with this quirky little person could come crashing down. And as a result I become the type of mom that irritates the crap out of me. The type that's convinced the common cold signifies the onset of bubonic plague. That the grim reaper is crouching around every corner. His bony claws sticking from beneath his tattered robe and his razor sharp scythe raised to strike. And since clearly I have no hope of defeating such evil, I throw everything I possibly can at the problem, including Vicks chest rub. VICKS CHEST RUB for heaven's sakes. Like that will ward off a 104 degree fever and a chest infection! What chance do I have of defeating the grim reaper with Vicks chest rub? I mean maybe, just maybe, the creepy bastard might slip on it. Or choke on it. Or get it in his eyes (does the grim reaper even have eyes)? But let's face it, chest rub's a pretty useless weapon. And it's more for me than Micah. So I don't feel completely helpless. Even though I know deep down that it makes me certifiable dumb ass. And very un-Martha.

But being a mom is the weirdest thing - it's like all rational thought was thrown out of the window the day Micah was born. "Congratulations, it's a boy. Now kiss your experience and commonsense goodbye and prepare for neurotic, paranoid parenthood"! Prepare to irritate the hell out of yourself. "Oh, and here's a goody-bag with things you might need - diapers, wipes, formula". What help are those? Where the hell is the Vicks chest rub? How can you send a new parent home without it? How? Hospitals don't know shit about parenthood. 

PS: A few people have asked me for an update on the launch of our skin care product. Suffice to say that the impending attack of the grim reaper took precedence over my skin care documentation. So it's been delayed. But we're on track for a February launch, never fear! I have my jar of Vicks rub by my side and it hasn't let me down yet.