This was supposed to be the first weekend in three months that Mr. J would be home all weekend and available to participate in family life. Literally since the end of July, there have been only two weekends that he was not wholly occupied with sailing all weekend, and one of those weekends was our anniversary trip to Maine.
I desperately need a new pair of shoes for the cold weather - my driving mocs/ bus-walking shoes are completely trashed - and I need some new bras but I need to get fitted first. I don't want to take my children for these activities; although Little Bits would love the shoe department, I feel that they are rather too much to unleash on the sanctity of Dillard's lingerie department. I can only imagine the Bear's running commentary on the measuring process.
So I've been waiting and waiting for this weekend. Did I mention that Sunday is the Bear's birthday? Did I mention that we have family and Bear's friends coming over to our house on Sunday afternoon ... and that our powder room toilet has been broken for at least eight months, plus there's a gaping hole in the screen door on the back porch and a pile of crap next to our garage that makes us look like white trash? For Mother's Day - yes, that's right, in May - I asked Mr. J to address these household tasks plus a couple other items that should take a handy man like himself less than two hours, total, to complete. None have been tackled, but he did find time to install his friend's garbage disposal, so there's that.
To complete the white trash motif, our grass is overgrown, and my toes haven't seen a pedicure since August.
Mr. J just told me that he has booked sailing lessons both days this weekend. I cussed him like a sailor, then called my mother and cried.
Thursday, October 23, 2014
Friday, October 3, 2014
Julep: what we have here is a failure to communicate
Mr. J is off sailing again this weekend. I talked to my MIL earlier this week, and she said she'd like to have the kids come play at her house sometime. "That would be great," I said; "We have plans on Sunday and we'll be going to church on Saturday evening, but I have a lot of errands to run and it would be such a help if they could hang out with you for a while."
She sent me an email today and suggested that the kids could come over Saturday afternoon so I could run my errands or get a pedicure or go to church, and then I can come back around dinnertime and we can order a pizza and I can look at the sample clothes from her Expensive Clothes party.
Well, this would not be helpful. I know perfectly well what was going on in her head. She doesn't like to get up in the mornings, and would prefer to loll around in her pajamas until noon. I feel that - I would love a pajama-lolling myself. But you know, I already told her that we were going to church Saturday evening - it's her church too, she's well aware of what time Saturday Mass starts and she knows that they can't be relied on to wake up from naps before 3:30. I would get them over to her house, run maybe one errand, and then come back and have to drag them to church when they are not nearly tired of her toys yet.
But did you catch the key piece from her idea? I would leave the kids with her while I go to church. She thought to herself, "Julep can go to church by herself and that way I can sleep in."
Last month I let her keep the kids while I went to church on Sunday evening. And I did not feel right about it at all. My conscience was pricking me all through Mass, and I actually missed having them there squirming around in the pew. I decided I don't want to do that any more. And when I picked them up from her house that evening, I thanked her profusely and told her that the time alone with my thoughts helped me realize that even though it's hard to take both of them by myself when Mr. J is gone, I can manage, and I want to manage. It is important to me that my kids go with me to church on Sunday, every week.
I do my level best to be diplomatic with her but that woman just does not listen.
Oh, and the Expensive Clothes? I have told her the last two times that they just don't cut their clothes for me. They are beautiful, but they don't make petites. It is really nice that she wants to give me things, but I don't need any of the things she wants me to have, and all the sleeves and hems are several inches too long.
She doesn't care what I actually need, she only cares about what she wants to give.
She sent me an email today and suggested that the kids could come over Saturday afternoon so I could run my errands or get a pedicure or go to church, and then I can come back around dinnertime and we can order a pizza and I can look at the sample clothes from her Expensive Clothes party.
Well, this would not be helpful. I know perfectly well what was going on in her head. She doesn't like to get up in the mornings, and would prefer to loll around in her pajamas until noon. I feel that - I would love a pajama-lolling myself. But you know, I already told her that we were going to church Saturday evening - it's her church too, she's well aware of what time Saturday Mass starts and she knows that they can't be relied on to wake up from naps before 3:30. I would get them over to her house, run maybe one errand, and then come back and have to drag them to church when they are not nearly tired of her toys yet.
But did you catch the key piece from her idea? I would leave the kids with her while I go to church. She thought to herself, "Julep can go to church by herself and that way I can sleep in."
Last month I let her keep the kids while I went to church on Sunday evening. And I did not feel right about it at all. My conscience was pricking me all through Mass, and I actually missed having them there squirming around in the pew. I decided I don't want to do that any more. And when I picked them up from her house that evening, I thanked her profusely and told her that the time alone with my thoughts helped me realize that even though it's hard to take both of them by myself when Mr. J is gone, I can manage, and I want to manage. It is important to me that my kids go with me to church on Sunday, every week.
I do my level best to be diplomatic with her but that woman just does not listen.
Oh, and the Expensive Clothes? I have told her the last two times that they just don't cut their clothes for me. They are beautiful, but they don't make petites. It is really nice that she wants to give me things, but I don't need any of the things she wants me to have, and all the sleeves and hems are several inches too long.
She doesn't care what I actually need, she only cares about what she wants to give.
Wednesday, September 3, 2014
Twinkle: My Feelings on My New Job, and My MIL's Rude Questions
To the working mothers out there: I have had the slightest, smallest glimpse of what you all do, and you have my utmost respect.
I have had my so-called job for two months. It is the most flexible job ever; it is tailor-made for me and where I am in life, and I love it. I mean I actually love it, in a way that I never thought I would want or enjoy a job. I learn something every day--it is making me a connoisseur of antiques and a better shopper in general--what's not to love? I don't want to work all day, or every day--I still want the time to go to the grocery store, or a yoga class, and to take my children to and from school--those things are important to me. But, honestly, it's nice to have somewhere to go on some days, when my children are at school, where I get to do something interesting that I love. I realize I am so incredibly lucky to have the freedom and opportunity to do something that I truly love, and co-workers who totally understand that I need balance and are glad to have me on board in whatever capacity that works for me. They are the coolest people I have ever worked with, and I'm doing the most interesting work I have ever done--I wish this had been my job pre-children, because I would love to throw myself into it in a way that I just can't right now.
That said, I have mommy guilt over loving it. It's a little bit of an identity crisis for me, to love a job. I feel like a big part of my identity is being a stay-at-home mother, and devoting everything to my children. I have loved doing that, but, honestly, it gets a little bit monotonous, and this gives me a really interesting sense of purpose. But when I get home, I feel bad about leaving it. And when I'm there, I feel bad about neglecting my duties at home. And I don't really know what to call myself. Am I a stay-at-home mother, still? I don't feel that I exactly have the street cred to call myself a "working mother." I feel overwhelmed sometimes, and I look at other people who do A LOT more than I do, and see that they're making it work. And then I look at stay-at-home moms, and I ask myself if I should be doing that, and be happy about it. It really is an exercise in not comparing myself to other people, but figuring out a balance between what I want to do and my responsibilities (to the job and to my family)--a balance that makes me happy and works for my family. And thinking about that is probably good for me, because it doesn't matter what everyone else is doing--I know that in my head, but it's hard to put into practice when everybody is doing something different and they all seem to have it together. I don't know what to call myself or what to say when people ask me what I do, but figuring that out is helping me grow as a person.
Anyway, this is a big transition for me and I have a lot of feelings about it: mostly love for the job and guilt over loving the job. It makes me feel good to be around people who are supportive, who ask me questions about it and I can convey just how interesting it is and how much I love it. But my MIL is completely annoying about it. I'm not sure why she thinks I'm doing this, but she doesn't appreciate antiques, so she can't really understand why I enjoy it. When she talks about it to me, she reduces it to a paycheck. She's always saying stuff like, "That one sale looked really good, but did you have to work on that bad one? That one looks like it has a lot of junk in it." And it's true--some sales are better than others. But I still learn something in each and every one, and calling it "junk" just seems to undermine me and the whole process somehow. (Maybe it bothers me that she doesn't have the good taste to know a piece of junk from a treasure, so when she calls it all junk it just rubs me the wrong way). She actually said recently, "Did you get your first paycheck? Were you pleased with it?" I mean WHO asks someone if they are PLEASED with their paycheck? Would it ever occur to any of you to ask someone if they were pleased with their paycheck? That is a tacky (and demeaning) question, and it makes me totally uncomfortable. It makes me shut down completely. It's a rude question and there is no polite answer for it.
I know she just doesn't understand me, or my motivations, or my job, or my interests, but I can't help being offended by her rudeness. And it also plays into my all my insecurities about what this job means to my family and my identity as a working/stay-at-home mother, or whatever combination of that I am now. I don't know what I am, but I am figuring it out every day, and enjoying it as I go. And my paycheck is none of her damn business.
I have had my so-called job for two months. It is the most flexible job ever; it is tailor-made for me and where I am in life, and I love it. I mean I actually love it, in a way that I never thought I would want or enjoy a job. I learn something every day--it is making me a connoisseur of antiques and a better shopper in general--what's not to love? I don't want to work all day, or every day--I still want the time to go to the grocery store, or a yoga class, and to take my children to and from school--those things are important to me. But, honestly, it's nice to have somewhere to go on some days, when my children are at school, where I get to do something interesting that I love. I realize I am so incredibly lucky to have the freedom and opportunity to do something that I truly love, and co-workers who totally understand that I need balance and are glad to have me on board in whatever capacity that works for me. They are the coolest people I have ever worked with, and I'm doing the most interesting work I have ever done--I wish this had been my job pre-children, because I would love to throw myself into it in a way that I just can't right now.
That said, I have mommy guilt over loving it. It's a little bit of an identity crisis for me, to love a job. I feel like a big part of my identity is being a stay-at-home mother, and devoting everything to my children. I have loved doing that, but, honestly, it gets a little bit monotonous, and this gives me a really interesting sense of purpose. But when I get home, I feel bad about leaving it. And when I'm there, I feel bad about neglecting my duties at home. And I don't really know what to call myself. Am I a stay-at-home mother, still? I don't feel that I exactly have the street cred to call myself a "working mother." I feel overwhelmed sometimes, and I look at other people who do A LOT more than I do, and see that they're making it work. And then I look at stay-at-home moms, and I ask myself if I should be doing that, and be happy about it. It really is an exercise in not comparing myself to other people, but figuring out a balance between what I want to do and my responsibilities (to the job and to my family)--a balance that makes me happy and works for my family. And thinking about that is probably good for me, because it doesn't matter what everyone else is doing--I know that in my head, but it's hard to put into practice when everybody is doing something different and they all seem to have it together. I don't know what to call myself or what to say when people ask me what I do, but figuring that out is helping me grow as a person.
Anyway, this is a big transition for me and I have a lot of feelings about it: mostly love for the job and guilt over loving the job. It makes me feel good to be around people who are supportive, who ask me questions about it and I can convey just how interesting it is and how much I love it. But my MIL is completely annoying about it. I'm not sure why she thinks I'm doing this, but she doesn't appreciate antiques, so she can't really understand why I enjoy it. When she talks about it to me, she reduces it to a paycheck. She's always saying stuff like, "That one sale looked really good, but did you have to work on that bad one? That one looks like it has a lot of junk in it." And it's true--some sales are better than others. But I still learn something in each and every one, and calling it "junk" just seems to undermine me and the whole process somehow. (Maybe it bothers me that she doesn't have the good taste to know a piece of junk from a treasure, so when she calls it all junk it just rubs me the wrong way). She actually said recently, "Did you get your first paycheck? Were you pleased with it?" I mean WHO asks someone if they are PLEASED with their paycheck? Would it ever occur to any of you to ask someone if they were pleased with their paycheck? That is a tacky (and demeaning) question, and it makes me totally uncomfortable. It makes me shut down completely. It's a rude question and there is no polite answer for it.
I know she just doesn't understand me, or my motivations, or my job, or my interests, but I can't help being offended by her rudeness. And it also plays into my all my insecurities about what this job means to my family and my identity as a working/stay-at-home mother, or whatever combination of that I am now. I don't know what I am, but I am figuring it out every day, and enjoying it as I go. And my paycheck is none of her damn business.
Monday, August 18, 2014
Julep: don't blink first
I told Mr. J last night, sometimes I feel like dealing with his mom is an elaborate game of chicken.
Our anniversary is coming up next month, as y'all may remember, and we have built a little tradition of taking a trip together each year to celebrate. Since the kids came along, the trips have gotten shorter due to the need to arrange for child care. (We took the Bear the first year and realized that a family trip is not at all a romantic way to spend our anniversary.) Last year we took a three-day weekend and went to Chicago. This year we were hoping for five days/ four nights - the kids would go to school three days and spend one weekend day and two nights with each set of grandparents.
J-Mama was on board, but we hit a snag when Mr. J reached out to his parents. Evidently the Mr-Parents were planning to go down to their boat that weekend, though they assured Mr. J they would be happy to help out some other weekend. I was pretty frustrated - it's not like they had any special plans for that weekend, it's just one of many to be spent puttering around in Hilton Head. But J-Mama gave me some very sage advice: she said, "You chose to have children, they didn't choose to have grandchildren. If there's a need for someone to revise a plan to accommodate your kids, it's your need, not theirs." Fair enough.
I really hate re-assigning celebrations to other dates. So rather than reschedule the whole trip, we decided to find alternative arrangements. We changed our venue from Taos to Maine and cut a day off the trip. I figured to call on one or more of my cousins to pick the kids up from my mom on Sunday morning and entertain them for the day - Mr-Sister agreed to spend the night with the kids at our house on Sunday and get them to school on Monday morning. Still working out the details on who would pick them up from school on Monday night as our flights were coming in late.
So last night we had dinner with Mr. Mama, and she said, "Tell me about what you have planned for your anniversary trip." I told her all of the above (the last paragraph, that is). And she said, "Well, I can pick them up on Monday." I said, "That would be fantastic, but I thought you would be out of town." Well, it turns out her plans are still in flux. They haven't committed to whether they are going down that weekend. If they go, it will be a short trip since she is planning to play in a golf tournament on Monday morning. Maybe they won't go at all.
In other words, she didn't have any firm plans for the weekend of our anniversary, she just didn't want to commit herself to watching our kids. But she REALLY doesn't like being left out.
Our anniversary is coming up next month, as y'all may remember, and we have built a little tradition of taking a trip together each year to celebrate. Since the kids came along, the trips have gotten shorter due to the need to arrange for child care. (We took the Bear the first year and realized that a family trip is not at all a romantic way to spend our anniversary.) Last year we took a three-day weekend and went to Chicago. This year we were hoping for five days/ four nights - the kids would go to school three days and spend one weekend day and two nights with each set of grandparents.
J-Mama was on board, but we hit a snag when Mr. J reached out to his parents. Evidently the Mr-Parents were planning to go down to their boat that weekend, though they assured Mr. J they would be happy to help out some other weekend. I was pretty frustrated - it's not like they had any special plans for that weekend, it's just one of many to be spent puttering around in Hilton Head. But J-Mama gave me some very sage advice: she said, "You chose to have children, they didn't choose to have grandchildren. If there's a need for someone to revise a plan to accommodate your kids, it's your need, not theirs." Fair enough.
I really hate re-assigning celebrations to other dates. So rather than reschedule the whole trip, we decided to find alternative arrangements. We changed our venue from Taos to Maine and cut a day off the trip. I figured to call on one or more of my cousins to pick the kids up from my mom on Sunday morning and entertain them for the day - Mr-Sister agreed to spend the night with the kids at our house on Sunday and get them to school on Monday morning. Still working out the details on who would pick them up from school on Monday night as our flights were coming in late.
So last night we had dinner with Mr. Mama, and she said, "Tell me about what you have planned for your anniversary trip." I told her all of the above (the last paragraph, that is). And she said, "Well, I can pick them up on Monday." I said, "That would be fantastic, but I thought you would be out of town." Well, it turns out her plans are still in flux. They haven't committed to whether they are going down that weekend. If they go, it will be a short trip since she is planning to play in a golf tournament on Monday morning. Maybe they won't go at all.
In other words, she didn't have any firm plans for the weekend of our anniversary, she just didn't want to commit herself to watching our kids. But she REALLY doesn't like being left out.
Friday, August 15, 2014
Friday, August 8, 2014
Julep: on celebrities and good manners
Looks like maybe we've all forgotten about the blog lately. But even if no one is going to read this, I'm writing it here, because I don't want to start a Facebook war with some bunch of people I don't really know.
So as y'all know, there's this pro sports extravaganza going on in our town right now. This morning, I saw that a guy whom I know from my Leadership Class a few years ago - nice guy, about our age, works in insurance, has a cute little family - posted on FB that his wife saw an Internationally Famous Superstar Athlete and his Olympic Athlete Girlfriend last night, sitting in their parked car outside of the Macy's and looking in the shopping bag. His wife went up and knocked on the car window to ask for an autograph, and IFSA waved her away. Acquaintance's post was extremely huffy: how could IFSA be so rude? And his commenters were in full agreement with him.
Does anyone here disagree with me that the rude person was Acquaintance's Wife? I mean, for the love, let the man check his bag full of athletic socks and underwear in peace. (Sidebar: what do you think these two were buying at Macy's? It's got to be socks or underwear, right? Maybe a belt?)
Personally, I would consider it borderline tacky to approach a celebrity at any time -- although if you happen to be at a restaurant with one of your absolute favorite celebrities, and you feel that you cannot refrain from pausing at their table on your way out to say, "I'm sorry to interrupt you, but I just want to say how much I have always enjoyed your work," carry on. And if you find yourself in an elevator or drinks line with a famous person, and you feel moved to start up a conversation just as you might with a normal person, feel free.
But to walk over and knock on the window while he was sitting in his car? Who does that? I wouldn't even walk up to the car of one of you girls while you were sitting there looking in your bags. I would try to catch your eye and wave - I might call you on the phone and say, "Is that you sitting in the Macy's parking lot?" A parked car is an extension of someone's personal space. It would be like walking up to his hotel room and knocking on the door - only even creepier, because at least the hotel room door has a peephole and he doesn't have to make eye contact when ignoring you.
If Acquaintance's Wife had spotted IFSA and OAG while they were shopping, managed to walk over next to them while they were sorting the rack of belts for the right size, and casually said hello, and they were rude to her? OK, fine. Complain about it on Facebook ... though really - these people are not zoo animals. They are not here for your observation. I cannot imagine that after a less-than-stellar day of playing his sport, IFSA wanted to be harassed by autograph seekers.
Honey, you are making this whole town look bad. Act like you've been here before.
So as y'all know, there's this pro sports extravaganza going on in our town right now. This morning, I saw that a guy whom I know from my Leadership Class a few years ago - nice guy, about our age, works in insurance, has a cute little family - posted on FB that his wife saw an Internationally Famous Superstar Athlete and his Olympic Athlete Girlfriend last night, sitting in their parked car outside of the Macy's and looking in the shopping bag. His wife went up and knocked on the car window to ask for an autograph, and IFSA waved her away. Acquaintance's post was extremely huffy: how could IFSA be so rude? And his commenters were in full agreement with him.
Does anyone here disagree with me that the rude person was Acquaintance's Wife? I mean, for the love, let the man check his bag full of athletic socks and underwear in peace. (Sidebar: what do you think these two were buying at Macy's? It's got to be socks or underwear, right? Maybe a belt?)
Personally, I would consider it borderline tacky to approach a celebrity at any time -- although if you happen to be at a restaurant with one of your absolute favorite celebrities, and you feel that you cannot refrain from pausing at their table on your way out to say, "I'm sorry to interrupt you, but I just want to say how much I have always enjoyed your work," carry on. And if you find yourself in an elevator or drinks line with a famous person, and you feel moved to start up a conversation just as you might with a normal person, feel free.
But to walk over and knock on the window while he was sitting in his car? Who does that? I wouldn't even walk up to the car of one of you girls while you were sitting there looking in your bags. I would try to catch your eye and wave - I might call you on the phone and say, "Is that you sitting in the Macy's parking lot?" A parked car is an extension of someone's personal space. It would be like walking up to his hotel room and knocking on the door - only even creepier, because at least the hotel room door has a peephole and he doesn't have to make eye contact when ignoring you.
If Acquaintance's Wife had spotted IFSA and OAG while they were shopping, managed to walk over next to them while they were sorting the rack of belts for the right size, and casually said hello, and they were rude to her? OK, fine. Complain about it on Facebook ... though really - these people are not zoo animals. They are not here for your observation. I cannot imagine that after a less-than-stellar day of playing his sport, IFSA wanted to be harassed by autograph seekers.
Honey, you are making this whole town look bad. Act like you've been here before.
Monday, July 21, 2014
Dibbs: That Sinking Feeling...
...that comes with agreeing with Rand Paul. For weeks I've been thinking that we should move the little immigrant children away from the border where people aren't so hostile. Hell, bring them here. That's what I thought.
Well, tonight Rand suggested bringing them to Fort Knox. So I was wrong, right? Misguided? Poorly conceived? I thought so.
Well, tonight Rand suggested bringing them to Fort Knox. So I was wrong, right? Misguided? Poorly conceived? I thought so.
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