Welcome to the Boz report! You are currently reading the first publication of the Boz report, a complete play by play of the activities surrounding the our family. If you are wondering why this blog is named Boz, I can explain. If you were not wondering, you can read it if you like and if not, well you can skip down a few lines. Explaination: My husband of 8 years, B., was/is called Boz by all of his highschool/college friends. This nick name has even carried over to his younger brother who probably does not appreciate the fact that he is often referred to as "Little Boz" by most of his town in Mississippi. However, as one knows who has had a nickname in the past, you can't do anything about what people call you, only with how you react to what they call you. My philosophy has always been, so what, but that's just me.
Another reason that I am posting this blog is to use it as a free advertisement for my small business called: Hand Painted for You! I started this business when B. and I decided that my working a full time, high level, high stress job with a Bank as a Compliance Analyst was just not worth the time away from our family.
I made a good salary, however we were unable to enjoy the fruit of my labor because 3/4 of it went to daycare. Also when I was at home, I was ill as a hornet and wanted to spend the other 1/4 of my income as retail therapy. Thus, a part time job as a teller with the Bank was my only option in order to keep the great healthcare benefits that the bank has for its employees, and to keep me with the company long enough to become vested in my 401K. Which by now is probably liquidated by the government in the bail out process to fund rich CEO's retirment accounts.
Anywho, when I took the part time job, it offered me the great hours of only working a full day on Monday and Friday, and three hours on Saturday at a decent hourly rate. (which is actually only 1/2 of what my hourly rate was before.) The trade off is that I get to spend three full days with our youngest son, nick named Wild Man, who is 17 months and at full throttle 8 hours a day. And, I am also able to meet our oldest son nick named the Speedster, who is in kindergarten, when he gets off the bus in the afternoons. The term 'meet' is used loosely here due to the fact that I merely sit on the swing which is located on our back deck and listen for his school bus to pull into the culdesac that is directly behind our back yard. In order for the Speedster to get to our house from this bus stop, he must first gather his best buddy, and neighbor from the gaggle of kids that are putting off going inside their houses to do their homework, then he and his buddy,Jake, must trapse through the woods for about 100 yards. Then after emerging from the woods in my line of vision, I witness from afar his descent into the often jungle like backyard of Jake's house. As the boys make their way through the undergrowth of grass that has not been cut in months, they must also climb over a tree that fell three months ago, and run out of range of the jaws belonging to Jake's unloved, unattended german shephard Chester who is tied for eternity to a run line that spans the width of the backyard. Now, most of you reading this will think that I am a horrible mother, making my child go through such an abyssimal trip to get home in the afternoons. If you have ever placed yourself inside the brain of a 6 year old boy, (which I don't recommend doing often) you will realize that his walk home is a great adventure that he gets to share with his best friend and confidant three days a week. And believe me, after being in the after school program five days a week at his elementary school last year when I was working full time, climbing felled trees, wading through high grass, and dodging a manic german shephard is a cake walk compared to the undisciplined, crazy kids he had to deal with at EDP (extended day program) Program my tush. The advertisement for EDP should have been: "You pay us 200 bucks a month, and we will let your kid run wild all over the school and playground while supervised by high school kids who are really just there to flirt with each other. We will make sure your child comes home every day with a new bruise or cut on at least one of his limbs, if your lucky all four will have a battle scar of some sort. When you ask us how the cut, scrape or bruise got on your child, we will certainly not have a clue, but we can tell you who went out with Brandon last night."
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