Yesterday, Mr. J brought the baby with him for our Monday lunch date. (This is a new thing we are trying: we have a weekly household business meeting - complete with minutes. The hope is that with a set time to go through all of our outstanding issues - lining up sitters for this/that/the other, getting quotes on the garage siding, planning the Bear's birthday party - we can actually enjoy our evenings together without the persistent need to nag. I digress.)
The Seagull was not only wearing the same onesie I put her to sleep in the night before, she was still wearing her swaddle sack. In the car seat. When I asked "WTF, honey?" the answer was, he didn't want her legs to be cold if he put a dress on her.
Points for considering the weather before taking the child out of the house. But evidently my recent guided tour of the baby's new dresser - complete with pants! and tights! -- was for naught.
Also, I learned that Mr. J is intimidated by tights.
Tuesday, October 8, 2013
Wednesday, September 25, 2013
Twinkle: Happiness
I just thought y'all should know that our favorite pinner is up to it again. I noticed that she pinned this last night, and I really want her to cross-stitch it onto a sampler.
Julep: and a conversation starter -
Check out this article on a study of stay at home dads. Here's the kicker:
"Using other data sources, the Pew Center study also found that stay-at-home fathers help out more in housework and child care than do working fathers. They average about 18 hours per week in doing housework and 11 hours in taking care of the kids, the highest levels of all fathers. Their housework and child care hours are longer than their partners’, although the difference is not big. Stay-at-home fathers spend about four hours more per week than their working partners in housework, and about two hours more per week in child care. Yet their leisure time is nearly double that of their partners (43 hours per week vs. 23 hours).
"In contrast, when moms stay at home and dads work for pay, the wives average about 26 hours per week in housework and about 20 hours in child care, more than three times as much as what their working partners put into these activities. Stay-at-home mothers have more leisure time than their partners who work for pay, but only by less than four hours per week."
In short, whether or not the men are earning money, they feel entitled to enjoy all the leisure time they want while the women work their tails off at home and/or at the office. Infuriating. How do I break this cycle - with my husband and with my son?
"Using other data sources, the Pew Center study also found that stay-at-home fathers help out more in housework and child care than do working fathers. They average about 18 hours per week in doing housework and 11 hours in taking care of the kids, the highest levels of all fathers. Their housework and child care hours are longer than their partners’, although the difference is not big. Stay-at-home fathers spend about four hours more per week than their working partners in housework, and about two hours more per week in child care. Yet their leisure time is nearly double that of their partners (43 hours per week vs. 23 hours).
"In contrast, when moms stay at home and dads work for pay, the wives average about 26 hours per week in housework and about 20 hours in child care, more than three times as much as what their working partners put into these activities. Stay-at-home mothers have more leisure time than their partners who work for pay, but only by less than four hours per week."
In short, whether or not the men are earning money, they feel entitled to enjoy all the leisure time they want while the women work their tails off at home and/or at the office. Infuriating. How do I break this cycle - with my husband and with my son?
Julep: three simple rules for dressing my infant daughter
(1) No bedazzling. That means no glitter, sequins, or rhinestones.
(2) No tulle.
(3) No animal prints.
I don't think these are unreasonable guidelines. She's a baby, not a showgirl. And when she's a few years older, my vision is a little darling dressed like Twinkle's girls, not like a contestant on Toddlers and Tiaras. Sure, she can have some cotton onesies and leggings for at home wear, or for when she's sleeping - but when she leaves the house I prefer that she wear a dress that meets the three rules above.
Mr-Mama seems to have a different vision. The Seagull was at her house for much of the weekend while Mr. J and I celebrated our anniversary in Chicago (and Lord bless her for it). She came home on Monday wearing this:
Note the rhinestones. I wasn't crazy about the ponies with the pink hair, either. But the denim jumper soon faded into relative insignificance when I saw the special present Mr-Mama had sent home with her:
Note the leopard print ruffles at sleeve and hem, covered with a glittery tulle overlay. Words fail me.
You know if the Gull isn't wearing that ensemble come Thanksgiving, my MIL is going to be mortally offended. You know what else? About twenty minutes after my MIL arrives at the house, there's going to be a catastrophic diaper blowout. Yup. It's going to trash the leopard-print pants AND the top. What a shame!
I refuse to allow my child to spend the holiday looking like a former school teacher turned cougar who's retired to Del Boca Vista.
(2) No tulle.
(3) No animal prints.
I don't think these are unreasonable guidelines. She's a baby, not a showgirl. And when she's a few years older, my vision is a little darling dressed like Twinkle's girls, not like a contestant on Toddlers and Tiaras. Sure, she can have some cotton onesies and leggings for at home wear, or for when she's sleeping - but when she leaves the house I prefer that she wear a dress that meets the three rules above.
Mr-Mama seems to have a different vision. The Seagull was at her house for much of the weekend while Mr. J and I celebrated our anniversary in Chicago (and Lord bless her for it). She came home on Monday wearing this:
Note the leopard print ruffles at sleeve and hem, covered with a glittery tulle overlay. Words fail me.
You know if the Gull isn't wearing that ensemble come Thanksgiving, my MIL is going to be mortally offended. You know what else? About twenty minutes after my MIL arrives at the house, there's going to be a catastrophic diaper blowout. Yup. It's going to trash the leopard-print pants AND the top. What a shame!
I refuse to allow my child to spend the holiday looking like a former school teacher turned cougar who's retired to Del Boca Vista.
Tuesday, September 17, 2013
Juelp: an explanation to the puzzled waiter
[When the waiter asks if I'd like something to drink, and I ask for sweet tea, and he says, "we only have unsweet, but I can bring you sweetener," and I say, "No thanks, water is fine."]
Here's the thing, Evan/ Andrew/ Todd: I like my tea sweet. Really sweet, almost sweet enough to chew. But I don't really like knowing how many sugar packets it takes to get it that way. Nor do I like sitting at a table littered with little empty sugar envelopes. If I wanted to eat surrounded by a big pile of paper, I'd be lunching at my desk.
Not to mention that once I've gotten the glass all doctored up to the point where I am actually ready to enjoy it, and I take a big swig, you're going to cruise right by the table with a pitcher and fill my glass back up, so I am back to the sugar packets. Spending the entire lunch hour sweetening my own drink sounds a lot like work.
So if you can't bring me a glass of tea with sugar already in it, let's just call the whole thing off and I'll drink water, all right? Thanks, sugar.
Here's the thing, Evan/ Andrew/ Todd: I like my tea sweet. Really sweet, almost sweet enough to chew. But I don't really like knowing how many sugar packets it takes to get it that way. Nor do I like sitting at a table littered with little empty sugar envelopes. If I wanted to eat surrounded by a big pile of paper, I'd be lunching at my desk.
Not to mention that once I've gotten the glass all doctored up to the point where I am actually ready to enjoy it, and I take a big swig, you're going to cruise right by the table with a pitcher and fill my glass back up, so I am back to the sugar packets. Spending the entire lunch hour sweetening my own drink sounds a lot like work.
So if you can't bring me a glass of tea with sugar already in it, let's just call the whole thing off and I'll drink water, all right? Thanks, sugar.
Friday, September 13, 2013
Julep: rich
Today's rant will feature my younger sister, she of the massive narcissism and parsimony.
I think y'all know that J-Mama bought Little Sister's house. She's been living there for almost a decade, first at a markedly-below and more recently at a slightly-below market rate rent. I had no problem with Lil Sis living there for cheap while she and/or her husband were in school or looking for permanent employment ... but then her husband got a real job and Lil Sis decided she didn't want to go back to work when her son was born. I give all respect to stay-at-home moms, but if one salary can't support your family in the lifestyle to which you aspire, then you ought to get a job. Milking your mother to underwrite your housing is not an acceptable option for a thirty-year-old parent with a master's degree and marketable skills. (J-Mama agreed with me, and this is when the rental rate increased.)
That was four years ago. In the meantime, Lil Sis has been all the time expecting my mom to do things for them at the house like take a tree down in the back yard - the type of things you might ask your landlord if you could do, but not the type of things you would expect the landlord to pay for. J-Mama has gotten tired of Lil Sis's endless requests for upgrades. She has also very nearly gotten the mortgage paid off. She has decided that come October (when the mortgage is gone), Lil Sis will no longer pay rent. J-Mama can't give the house to her outright for tax reasons, but Lil Sis will be responsible for paying the home insurance and the property taxes, and if the place needs a new water heater or Lil Sis wants nicer landscaping, that will be something that Lil Sis has to figure out how to pay for. Someday (a very long time from now, I hope), when J-Mama passes on, Lil Sis will inherit her house.
All of this is background. J-Mama is turning 60 in October, and a few months ago she thought she would like to celebrate with a party, until she decided that it would be a lot of trouble to plan and maybe no one would want to come anyway. Big Sis and I thought she was wrong about that, and so we are planning it for her without telling her (and y'all, the responses from invited guests have been so sweet, I can't tell you how wrong she was about thinking no one would want to come). After a couple of chats to plan, Big Sis and I rather reluctantly decided that we needed to invite Lil Sis in on the planning. While she is a pain in the tuchus, we didn't want her to feel left out of celebrating our mother.
We might as well not have bothered. Although Lil Sis got all high and mighty about not having been included earlier when I first called her to get her up to speed, she has shown her true colors quick enough. I sent a long email to get everyone on board with the tasks we still have to hammer out, with items flagged for each of us. It was incredibly tactful in asking for her participation - we don't have time to do paper invites and will just use email unless she wants to take that on, could she visit the site and report back so that we could talk about decorating, could she bake a couple of cakes. Keep in mind that she is the only one of the three of us who lives in town and has no full-time job.
Not only does she not have time for anything, except maybe she will bake one cake (and please note that I, who have a full-time job, will bake two), she refuses to contribute financially. That's right. This chick, who as of next month will never ever have to pay one thin dime towards her housing costs ever again for the rest of her life, will not even make a token gesture towards paying for her mother's birthday party. Seriously.
I would like to smack her a la Cher in Moonlighting.
I think y'all know that J-Mama bought Little Sister's house. She's been living there for almost a decade, first at a markedly-below and more recently at a slightly-below market rate rent. I had no problem with Lil Sis living there for cheap while she and/or her husband were in school or looking for permanent employment ... but then her husband got a real job and Lil Sis decided she didn't want to go back to work when her son was born. I give all respect to stay-at-home moms, but if one salary can't support your family in the lifestyle to which you aspire, then you ought to get a job. Milking your mother to underwrite your housing is not an acceptable option for a thirty-year-old parent with a master's degree and marketable skills. (J-Mama agreed with me, and this is when the rental rate increased.)
That was four years ago. In the meantime, Lil Sis has been all the time expecting my mom to do things for them at the house like take a tree down in the back yard - the type of things you might ask your landlord if you could do, but not the type of things you would expect the landlord to pay for. J-Mama has gotten tired of Lil Sis's endless requests for upgrades. She has also very nearly gotten the mortgage paid off. She has decided that come October (when the mortgage is gone), Lil Sis will no longer pay rent. J-Mama can't give the house to her outright for tax reasons, but Lil Sis will be responsible for paying the home insurance and the property taxes, and if the place needs a new water heater or Lil Sis wants nicer landscaping, that will be something that Lil Sis has to figure out how to pay for. Someday (a very long time from now, I hope), when J-Mama passes on, Lil Sis will inherit her house.
All of this is background. J-Mama is turning 60 in October, and a few months ago she thought she would like to celebrate with a party, until she decided that it would be a lot of trouble to plan and maybe no one would want to come anyway. Big Sis and I thought she was wrong about that, and so we are planning it for her without telling her (and y'all, the responses from invited guests have been so sweet, I can't tell you how wrong she was about thinking no one would want to come). After a couple of chats to plan, Big Sis and I rather reluctantly decided that we needed to invite Lil Sis in on the planning. While she is a pain in the tuchus, we didn't want her to feel left out of celebrating our mother.
We might as well not have bothered. Although Lil Sis got all high and mighty about not having been included earlier when I first called her to get her up to speed, she has shown her true colors quick enough. I sent a long email to get everyone on board with the tasks we still have to hammer out, with items flagged for each of us. It was incredibly tactful in asking for her participation - we don't have time to do paper invites and will just use email unless she wants to take that on, could she visit the site and report back so that we could talk about decorating, could she bake a couple of cakes. Keep in mind that she is the only one of the three of us who lives in town and has no full-time job.
Not only does she not have time for anything, except maybe she will bake one cake (and please note that I, who have a full-time job, will bake two), she refuses to contribute financially. That's right. This chick, who as of next month will never ever have to pay one thin dime towards her housing costs ever again for the rest of her life, will not even make a token gesture towards paying for her mother's birthday party. Seriously.
I would like to smack her a la Cher in Moonlighting.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)