Flannery Disease

Lucky for me, "you're hired" and "come to work" ended up being weeks apart. February began with the worst stomach flu our young family has yet expelled. I had dinner plans the night it struck -- dinner far away from these little germ cultures called kids. I had to cancel my plans. In fact, we canceled all plans for days.

We moved some waterproof mattresses to the kitchen, the only large area without carpet in our house. We spent the night holding our tiny little martyrs while they gave up every last drop of digestion with painful heaving.

The plague spread to each child, then to Christa, then to me. We survived. With sore throats that became head colds then coughs. When the snots were finally leaving us, diarrhea joined us -- prompting a Rug Doctor rental.

The baby was spared the diarrhea. His cold migrated into pink eye. Pink eye is the most contagious germ on the planet. We bathed everyone in antibacterial sanitizer hourly, we washed the sheets and clothes and toys, we burned that velvetine rabbit that seemed so much like a real bunny. Still everyone caught it.

When our eyes recovered, another head cold swept the family. Brian was working by now and missed this cold. We treated it aggressively and it went away after seven days (left untreated, it could have taken as long as a week). Snot free, we all caught pink eye again.

We used so many different kinds of eye drops that we have documented exactly which kind of ophthalmic vinaigrette hurts worst and least and which leaves less aftertaste.

To celebrate our first germ-free week, we planned a Saint Patrick's Day party. We tried to invite everyone. (Sorry if we missed you or you missed it.) Just in time, Brian finally caught the head cold and had to be heavily medicated during the drinking and festivities. After one and a half months, we are now healthy. Quality of life in our house has improved to the steady level of teething-induced crabbiness.

The moral is this, whatever you do, wash your hands, don't touch children and never skimp on eye drop medicine.

This message brought to you by the Flannery Institute of Epidemiology.

Brian Flannery, Nine Months Later (bolded for skimming)

I am born! Nine months after quitting the normal, stable, steady, secure job, I emerge into another 9 to 5 job. Yes, nine months of incubating alternative employment and we are ready for some income.

In this reincarnation, I return to my soul's mother (alma mater), the Colorado School of Mines. The Physics department has some research work about microchips. My title will be "research faculty" when I start. They have lost my paperwork somewhere between, "you're hired" and "you may begin working."

I graduated CSM in May of 2003 by the hair of my chinny chin chin with a Bachelor of Science degree in Mathematics and Computer Sciences. I had earned enough credits for a master's degree but not the right credits in the right order. Focus has always been a problem for me. I was on track for a double major with Electrical Engineering. At the last minute, three classes away from the double, I graduated instead. I couldn't resist the escape. I was losing steam.

It's good to be back in Golden. I always loved the old buildings and natural majesty of this small campus. After six years in Aurora I had forgotten how much I loved the foothills.

Now I get to make science happen, conducting experiments and measuring results.

Christa and I began our experiment with some money in savings. We intended to try a few business endeavors and jump back into a J-O-B after three months. Three times that schedule, we learned a lot.

We have more to learn. We have not given up on the business ideas:

• A custom printing company that focuses on creating legacy-quality heirlooms.
• A photography partnership. Christa still works a weekend or two every month.
• Several friends with businesses and potential businesses who are trying the same experiment.

We intend to keep learning from our adventures and incorporating the lessons into how we operate. Like a laboratory, we are trying different hypotheses, recording what works or not, improving the process. I thought "the process" was a list of rules in an ugly company binder that no one really cared about or followed. Skip a few tax deadlines and pay the penalties or promise someone their order will be ready and fail to deliver -- then you learn how valuable it is to have a process you can follow that grows and learns with you.

The family survived the experiment. We even acquired a baby. The money is tight, like it should be, encouraging thrift and industry.

Pray for Christa. She had grown used to me being home. Now I'm 50 minutes away. I can't just watch the kids for a minute while she runs an errand. I come home and she's sitting on the couch going, "bub, bub, bub, bub...."

More soon,
-Brian the newborn

PS. The original six month update: http://flannco.blogspot.com/2009/11/brian-flannery-six-months-later.html

I'm Outraged! Today's Episode: Social Security

I lost my social security card. I tore the house apart looking for it. No luck.

You know what that means. What's funner than the DMV? The Social Security Administration.

I know what to expect from a well-oiled government bureaucracy: Bad fluorescent lighting; bland, dingy room staffed by unmotivated misanthropes; waiting in an endless line with general population. (Ah, gen-pop. Aren't you glad you're not one of them? They wear clothes that don't match and sneeze without covering their mouths.)

I'd better get there early. Reserve my spot in misery. I want a 30 minutes jump-start but I only manage 15. I've got my driver's license, my checkbook and a roll of $20s, my W-2s, my passport, my birth certificate, my parent's birth certificates and social security cards, photographs of my birth, notarized vouchers from people who have known me for decades as Brian Flannery, 52X-XX-XXXX. My cell phone is on auto-dial to LifeLock in case I need them.

The SSA door is very clear: They open at 9AM. You can wait in the lobby starting at 8AM. I look around the lobby. There's only two other guys. One guy is trying all the locked doors like he's gotta get out of there. (What bomb?) The other one doesn't speak English. Not bad: I'm third.

It's only 8:57 but the door opens. It's not locked. I'm not third. There are dozens of people ahead of me, fidgeting patiently on uncomfortable seats in the real lobby. I take my number from the computer printer. "S106," it says. Over one hundred people know that getting there "early" does not forgive Flannery Standard Time.

So I sit down in despair. I have my book. I wonder if it's long enough. I guess I can re-read it. If necessary, I can also eat some pages and burn the rest to survive this nuclear winter of the soul.

9:00, they start calling numbers. But this counting is different. "M47." "321." "M48." "S104." "322."

"S104"! That means I'm third in line in the category of clumsy native citizen who merely misplaced his existing social security card.

"Last call for S104." Yes! A quitter. "S105." "S106." I hop up amidst snarls from the poor seated souls with more complicated cases. My bureaucrat awaits me behind the seven inches of glass named Window 5. Am I in prison or is she?

With shaking hands I fork over form SS-5, dutifully completed and twice reviewed. She asks for my driver's license. She reads a run-on sentence about answering questions truthfully, otherwise: perjury. I clench for the barrage of questions. What if I go blank? You can't expect me to remember every identifying detail about my life!

"Is your name and address accurate on this form?" They are. She prints a receipt and says I'll get my card in about two weeks. I even got my driver's license back.

I just stood there.
"You can go."
"Where?"
"Home or work or anywhere. Leave. You're done."
"That's it?"
"S107."
"No foolin'?"
"S107! (Go away. I don't date general population.)"

I'm driving away at 9:07.

You can see why I'm so outraged: I didn't get any reading done. (Just when you thought you knew what to expect from America's longest running Ponzi scheme.)

What's worse? I'm apparently a member of general population. I should have sneezed on her. Bulletproof glass can't stop gen-pop germs.

Christa's Christmas Greetings

As you can imagine, most days with the Flannery Family contain a lot of drama. With five children under the age of four, how could they not? In fact, if our family were compared to a theater, you would find nearly every role needed in our company. Here's how the production works:

Lana (3.5 years) is our writer and overall creative genius. She is always coming up with elaborate stories and plots and even creating her own words to familiar tunes. In 2009, Lana started preschool. Her sweet spirit and non-stop flow of conversation is enjoyed by all around her.

Ada (2.25 years) is without a doubt our acrobat and special effects. Her favorite activity is climbing up and down the top bunk. Though she refuses to use the ladder but instead chooses to maneuver her way over the safety rail. With Ada everything is bigger. Bigger fits and bigger love. I can see her watching a special effects explosion and saying "I think we can make that bigger."

Zella (16.5 months) is our techy. While the other three girls are playing together, Zella is often found off on her own, pushing buttons or delicately disassembling something with great attention and patience. Zella has just begun saying a few words, but usually communicates with elaborate facial expressions and grunts.

Tirza (16 months) is our music maniac. She loves nothing more than a good song and some dancing. Her rhythm is already better than both Brian and mine combined. While Zella communicates in silent pantomime, Tirza is already an explosion of words. She has nearly caught up with Ada.

In November we rolled out the red carpet for our newest addition. Judah was a surprise baby, in the truest sense. Brian and I had just agreed to try conceiving another child when we got the call that Tirza and Ada's baby biological brother was being born that day (November 24th)! Judah lived with my parents while we caught up on our foster care paperwork and officially moved in on December 30th. Jude (6 weeks) is currently the critic of the Flannery Family Theater. His wide eyes take in everything (when he's not sleeping). He mostly frowns at the shenanigans that occur around him. We look forward to watching his stoicism fade and personality develop.

Brian is our producer and business manager. In addition to making sure our bills are paid, he is always coming up with new, inventive ways of working. In the summer of 2009, he struck out on his own to try some various business ideas. During the past six months, we have learned so much about each other, and how to work and parent together. However, we also discovered that working from home was a little difficult. (With this many kids, it's impossible to hear yourself think, much less use the telephone. Brian's first job was sales by telephone. It did not work out so well). Now Brian is looking for some work outside of the home.

Me? I am the director, of course. My primary responsibilities are communicating stage cues (go here and do that), teaching lines (please and thank you), making sure that costumes are clean and correctly fitted and that the sets and props are all in their proper place. In 2009 I also tried my hand at some pubic relations. I am in charge of publishing the Newsletter for my local MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers) group this year. Also, my friend Willow and I started a small photography business (2womenphotography.com).

This is no one-man production. Brian and I are so thankful to have each other (we celebrated our 4th Anniversary in June 2009), as well as this gifted company of players. We hope that you enjoy the show (we cross blog here and flannco.wordpress.com) - and that your own theatrical adventures in 2010 are grand!

Christa and Co.