I am a sustainer in the Junyaleague, and every year I dutifully write my $100 check (which has gone up from the $85 it was a few years ago) and every year I get no real value for my money. Now, I love the Junyaleague so I will keep on writing those checks. I credit the Junyaleague with so many friends and good memories--which is why I gladly continue to support the organization, never balking at the increase in sustainer dues or, according to some Facebook pictures, the lack of personal hygiene among provisionals. Hey--if the League is going downhill, it's not because of my friends' valiant efforts to stop the decline, and it won't be because I drop my sustainership. They do good work in the community, and I feel good knowing that I'm supporting that work, so that alone makes it worthwhile.
I think the dues notice went out around March. I ignored it, as I always do, fully intending to pay my sustainer dues whenever. In June, that cute little Alice Jane Facebook messaged me to make sure I was re-upping for the coming year. I told her I absolutely was, then promptly put off writing the check yet again. Last week I got a nasty letter from someone I didn't know saying that if I didn't pay my dues by August 1, I'd be resigned. OK, League, thanks so much for the gentle reminder. I hopped online to pay my dues and I see that I am strapped with a late notice on my sustainer dues. I'm now expected to pay $125.
Now, I love you, Junyaleague, but that is ridiculous and offensive. First of all, I am paying my sustainer dues out of the kindness of my heart because I want to support the League. It's free money for them--I don't cost them anything--and they are lucky to get any of it. I expect them to take my $100 check and say thank you, and preferably follow up with a hand-written thank-you note. Actually, I don't even really expect that because, as we're all painfully aware, "this isn't your mama's Junyaleague." It's not even about the extra $25. I'd be happy to pay that and more to the annual giving fund or endowment, because I want to support the League. If I didn't, I wouldn't pay my sustainer dues at all, ever. I would give money to some other good cause, or maybe I'd just buy something for myself. And because I choose to give my small amount of money to them each year, I would prefer a little bit of gratitude. An automatic $25 late fee on their Web site doesn't seem grateful; it smacks of money-grubbing impersonality and a crass attention to the bottom line.
I understand that organizations need to plan their budgets for the year, and they do that through dues and giving. And they can count on my dues every year, as I assured Alice Jane in June. So I'll be hand-delivering my $100 check to Pat tomorrow morning, one day before my impending resignation, and the Junyaleague can take it or leave it. If they take it that's great; if they leave it, it's their loss, because I would have been willing to write those (slightly late) $100 checks forever, without ever demanding anything of them.
I don't go over there and meddle in their business, as so many sustainers do. I'm under no delusions that the League can't run without me--and I'm sure we can all name the people who do believe that they're indispensable. I'm happy to sit on the sidelines and let their new geographically- and ethnically-diverse active members take over and steer the League however they want. If these new girls want to be sticklers about the ridiculous late fee, maybe I'll just go shopping instead. I'm sure Lilly Pulitzer will still take my money.
Monday, July 30, 2012
Friday, July 27, 2012
Julep: Yuck.
Y'all, the exercise maven we love to mock has just updated her FB status to announce that her three year old child had never seen butter before. She is proud of this, labeling it a "WIN." I don't know whether I am more sorry for the child because she has to eat Maven's cooking every day or because she is 3 and no one has ever baked anything woth her before.
Thursday, July 26, 2012
Julep: Crazy B continues
Last night after I put Bear to bed, I took the recyling out and saw a pack of my nieghbors standing around on the sidewalk. They asked if my power was acting funny. Bear and I had come straight in and gone directly to bath, bottle, book, bed so I hadn't turned on many lights - but had noticed that something was beeping down in Mr. J's office as it does when the power goes out.
The neighbors said a six or seven house stretch was at "half power." I don't really know what that means, and it doesn't matter much because soon enough we were at no power. (And yes, it was still 90+ degrees outside even though nearly 9 pm.) LG&E was on site working on the problem. What was the problem? Crazy B's lack of tree maintenance. She has let her easement become choked with weeds and trees to the extent that one of the branches had worn through the power line. So the poor LG&E workers had to re-run the whole line ... after tearing down her poison ivy.
Mr. J came home in the middle of all this and enjoyed a fine bout of B-bashing with the neighbors. B was away on vacation, so nobody even had to pretend to be nice to her. They all have a story about what a pushy nutter she is. It warmed our hearts.
The neighbors said a six or seven house stretch was at "half power." I don't really know what that means, and it doesn't matter much because soon enough we were at no power. (And yes, it was still 90+ degrees outside even though nearly 9 pm.) LG&E was on site working on the problem. What was the problem? Crazy B's lack of tree maintenance. She has let her easement become choked with weeds and trees to the extent that one of the branches had worn through the power line. So the poor LG&E workers had to re-run the whole line ... after tearing down her poison ivy.
Mr. J came home in the middle of all this and enjoyed a fine bout of B-bashing with the neighbors. B was away on vacation, so nobody even had to pretend to be nice to her. They all have a story about what a pushy nutter she is. It warmed our hearts.
Friday, July 20, 2012
Twinkle: Just Venting About You-Know-Who
Fun Sink seems to take great joy in making feel bad about myself and my parenting, and I guess it's sort of my fault for letting her make me feel that way. Meanwhile, Twinklette loves throwing me under the bus every time we try to have a meal over there. It's the perfect storm for a headache when I leave.
1). Twinklette won't ever stay in her seat or eat her food, and Fun Sink takes it upon herself to pull Twinklette aside and lecture her, and give her the evil eye when Twinklette doesn't focus on her plate. It's the same every damn week. I am sick of it. I don't give her a lecture because I don't want to make a scene at the dinner table, not because I don't ever discipline my child. I wish Fun Sink would just step back and let me be a parent--most of the time she steps in before I even have a chance. Maybe it's my fault for letting her do that. Maybe my approach is nicer ("Twinklette--can you please put your bottom in the seat, put some food on your fork, put your fork in your mouth, and then repeat?"). It's clearly not working, but at the end of the day I would rather take her out of the room to lecture her, as I have done before, many times, than to do it right there in the dining room. I don't think it's Fun Sink's place to do it either way, as long as I'm there. And I think all the lecturing about food makes Twinklette behave worse than she would if everyone would just leave her alone.
2). Fun Sink served some purple cauliflower for dinner, which caused a lot of conversation (it actually is a naturally-occurring thing, according to Google), but it's also a genetically-modified thing, and who knows which version Fun Sink served? Best to pick around at it, in my opinion. Of course Twinklette had to ask what color cauliflower is usually, which I'm sure caused Fun Sink to think of her other granddaughter, Sophie, who probably would rather eat cauliflower than birthday cake and definitely knows its natural color. I know it was a valid question on Twinklette's part, but ugh. I do serve healthy food at home. But I don't love cauliflower, so it's not in the rotation. And even if it were, Twinklette wouldn't touch it. (She may not know that cauliflower is white, but at least Twinklette can identify toile, something Fun Sink probably can't do herself. Just sayin').
3). Fun Sink had to tell the tale of snacktime at the pool, when Bella refused a popsicle because she "has to eat something healthy before she eats something sweet." Good for Bella. Good for Bella's mom. Everyone in the world is clearly a better mother than I am. I'm sure Bella knows what color cauliflower is, too.
4). Fun Sink disapproves of Bar Mitzvah themes. She thinks the theme should be that it's a bar mitzvah. I don't love the bar mitzvah themes just because I think they're kind of stupid, but I don't get all judgy about it if someone wants to have a theme. So anyway, now I have to think of three really awesome bat mitzvah themes. I'm leaning toward thoroughbred racing, Gone With the Wind, and Tiffany's.
5). Tiny T fell in love with this pink and purple stuffed dog at Target today, so of course we got it (hey--sometimes you fall in love with something and it must be yours. I'm inclined to indulge that sort of thing, not deny it). And, so help me, I knew I should have prepped her for this evening's inevitable line of questioning. Sure enough, Tiny T made the mistake of hugging her dog at the dinner table, and Fun Sink was all "What does the dog say? What does the dog say???????" Because a sixteen-month-old can't just enjoy her new toy without learning something about what the dog says. She has plenty of time, of course--Twinklette, at four, knows all her animal sounds (obviously) and much more. But poor Tiny. I knew I should have prepared her for "what does the dog say?" before putting her in that situation.
6). Tiny T was giving kisses at the end of dinner. Fun Sink was holding her and going down the line. "Give Aunt Amanda a kiss." "Give GiGi a kiss." I was next to GiGi. Fun Sink stopped there and didn't encourage Tiny T to kiss me. No big surprise, but Tiny T takes after her big sister in that she likes her mom (shocking, I know), so she started yelling, "Mommy! Mommy!" until Fun Sink let her give me a kiss. In your face, Fun Sink! (God love ya, Tiny T).
So anyway, out here in mom world I feel like I am doing my best and that my best is ok. I feel like all the moms I know are doing their best. When I'm around Fun Sink, I feel totally unfit and inadequate compared to my sister-in-law or compared to Bella's mom or compared to herself (in her mind). I'm tired of feeling that way. I feel like she judges all moms (except SIL), so I guess I shouldn't feel bad about it, but it seems like she knows me and she should know I'm doing my best. Mary Lou said she knows deep down that I'm doing a good job but will never admit it, and I know she won't. It's just hurtful, though. How many moms say their kids eat chicken nuggets and mac and cheese for every meal? A lot. My kids don't do that, but because Twinklette doesn't know the color of cauliflower, Fun Sink can justify it in her mind that I am a pathetic excuse for a mother.
1). Twinklette won't ever stay in her seat or eat her food, and Fun Sink takes it upon herself to pull Twinklette aside and lecture her, and give her the evil eye when Twinklette doesn't focus on her plate. It's the same every damn week. I am sick of it. I don't give her a lecture because I don't want to make a scene at the dinner table, not because I don't ever discipline my child. I wish Fun Sink would just step back and let me be a parent--most of the time she steps in before I even have a chance. Maybe it's my fault for letting her do that. Maybe my approach is nicer ("Twinklette--can you please put your bottom in the seat, put some food on your fork, put your fork in your mouth, and then repeat?"). It's clearly not working, but at the end of the day I would rather take her out of the room to lecture her, as I have done before, many times, than to do it right there in the dining room. I don't think it's Fun Sink's place to do it either way, as long as I'm there. And I think all the lecturing about food makes Twinklette behave worse than she would if everyone would just leave her alone.
2). Fun Sink served some purple cauliflower for dinner, which caused a lot of conversation (it actually is a naturally-occurring thing, according to Google), but it's also a genetically-modified thing, and who knows which version Fun Sink served? Best to pick around at it, in my opinion. Of course Twinklette had to ask what color cauliflower is usually, which I'm sure caused Fun Sink to think of her other granddaughter, Sophie, who probably would rather eat cauliflower than birthday cake and definitely knows its natural color. I know it was a valid question on Twinklette's part, but ugh. I do serve healthy food at home. But I don't love cauliflower, so it's not in the rotation. And even if it were, Twinklette wouldn't touch it. (She may not know that cauliflower is white, but at least Twinklette can identify toile, something Fun Sink probably can't do herself. Just sayin').
3). Fun Sink had to tell the tale of snacktime at the pool, when Bella refused a popsicle because she "has to eat something healthy before she eats something sweet." Good for Bella. Good for Bella's mom. Everyone in the world is clearly a better mother than I am. I'm sure Bella knows what color cauliflower is, too.
4). Fun Sink disapproves of Bar Mitzvah themes. She thinks the theme should be that it's a bar mitzvah. I don't love the bar mitzvah themes just because I think they're kind of stupid, but I don't get all judgy about it if someone wants to have a theme. So anyway, now I have to think of three really awesome bat mitzvah themes. I'm leaning toward thoroughbred racing, Gone With the Wind, and Tiffany's.
5). Tiny T fell in love with this pink and purple stuffed dog at Target today, so of course we got it (hey--sometimes you fall in love with something and it must be yours. I'm inclined to indulge that sort of thing, not deny it). And, so help me, I knew I should have prepped her for this evening's inevitable line of questioning. Sure enough, Tiny T made the mistake of hugging her dog at the dinner table, and Fun Sink was all "What does the dog say? What does the dog say???????" Because a sixteen-month-old can't just enjoy her new toy without learning something about what the dog says. She has plenty of time, of course--Twinklette, at four, knows all her animal sounds (obviously) and much more. But poor Tiny. I knew I should have prepared her for "what does the dog say?" before putting her in that situation.
6). Tiny T was giving kisses at the end of dinner. Fun Sink was holding her and going down the line. "Give Aunt Amanda a kiss." "Give GiGi a kiss." I was next to GiGi. Fun Sink stopped there and didn't encourage Tiny T to kiss me. No big surprise, but Tiny T takes after her big sister in that she likes her mom (shocking, I know), so she started yelling, "Mommy! Mommy!" until Fun Sink let her give me a kiss. In your face, Fun Sink! (God love ya, Tiny T).
So anyway, out here in mom world I feel like I am doing my best and that my best is ok. I feel like all the moms I know are doing their best. When I'm around Fun Sink, I feel totally unfit and inadequate compared to my sister-in-law or compared to Bella's mom or compared to herself (in her mind). I'm tired of feeling that way. I feel like she judges all moms (except SIL), so I guess I shouldn't feel bad about it, but it seems like she knows me and she should know I'm doing my best. Mary Lou said she knows deep down that I'm doing a good job but will never admit it, and I know she won't. It's just hurtful, though. How many moms say their kids eat chicken nuggets and mac and cheese for every meal? A lot. My kids don't do that, but because Twinklette doesn't know the color of cauliflower, Fun Sink can justify it in her mind that I am a pathetic excuse for a mother.
Twinkle: Fun Sink's Got Us Covered
So the pickup went well, according to Fun Sink. Of course.
Anyway, I'm glad they're having fun. Bella's mom texted me to let me know that she forgot to send along Bella's floaties. Because Bella's mom, if a bit socially awkward, is a normal mom and forgets things sometimes, like we all do. Anyway, the message said that Bella's not that experienced at swimming, so sticking to the baby pool might be best. I passed the message along to Fun Sink, as it seems like a bad idea to let Fun Sink have access to Bella's mom's contact info.
Not to worry--Fun Sink brought along 2 life jackets.
Of course she f*cking did. She's got all of us--the unfit mothers out here in the world--totally covered.
Anyway, I'm glad they're having fun. Bella's mom texted me to let me know that she forgot to send along Bella's floaties. Because Bella's mom, if a bit socially awkward, is a normal mom and forgets things sometimes, like we all do. Anyway, the message said that Bella's not that experienced at swimming, so sticking to the baby pool might be best. I passed the message along to Fun Sink, as it seems like a bad idea to let Fun Sink have access to Bella's mom's contact info.
Not to worry--Fun Sink brought along 2 life jackets.
Of course she f*cking did. She's got all of us--the unfit mothers out here in the world--totally covered.
Twinkle: Fun Sink Declines Aid
The swimming play date is all set up, with only one potential hitch: will Bella actually get in the car and leave school camp with someone she doesn't know? (Bella's mom said that this was a problem another time, and Bella didn't end up going at all because she wouldn't leave with the other person). I prepared Fun Sink for this. I offered to meet Fun Sink at pickup time to make Bella more comfortable--after all, I see Bella a lot at school and even Bella's mom, who thinks I'm weird because of Fun Sink, admitted that Bella thinks I'm "really nice." So Bella probably trusts me a little more than she would Fun Sink, whom she has met only once, at the lunch before Mary Poppins, when both girls were too busy giggling into their Bristol mac-and-cheese to notice any of the adults present.
Of course, Fun Sink declined my offer to meet her at the school to facilitate the pickup. Even Mr. Twinkle was incredulous about that. So now I'm torn--I almost don't want Bella to go with her because I'm tired of Fun Sink's obsession with Bella, and it would be nice if Bella put her in her place. (Of course, I do want Bella to go because I want Twinklette to have a wonderful time swimming with her friend). I'm sure it'll be just my luck that Bella will go with her, and Fun Sink can once again reassure herself that I'm not a necessary part of any situation.
This is what it has come to. Competing over the whims of a four-year-old. And may I say that the competition is because of Fun Sink. I only offered to show up because I wanted to help, and I live a half a mile away from the school, and the time is convenient for me, and I don't mind because I'm a nice person and I want my child to have a fun day with her friend. But the denial of the offer just tells me that Fun Sink thinks I'm not important, and she can coax Bella into a strange car without me. Well have at it, ya crazy b*tch, and good luck. I can't wait to hear how it goes. And, rest assured, Twinklette will tell me all about it.
Of course, Fun Sink declined my offer to meet her at the school to facilitate the pickup. Even Mr. Twinkle was incredulous about that. So now I'm torn--I almost don't want Bella to go with her because I'm tired of Fun Sink's obsession with Bella, and it would be nice if Bella put her in her place. (Of course, I do want Bella to go because I want Twinklette to have a wonderful time swimming with her friend). I'm sure it'll be just my luck that Bella will go with her, and Fun Sink can once again reassure herself that I'm not a necessary part of any situation.
This is what it has come to. Competing over the whims of a four-year-old. And may I say that the competition is because of Fun Sink. I only offered to show up because I wanted to help, and I live a half a mile away from the school, and the time is convenient for me, and I don't mind because I'm a nice person and I want my child to have a fun day with her friend. But the denial of the offer just tells me that Fun Sink thinks I'm not important, and she can coax Bella into a strange car without me. Well have at it, ya crazy b*tch, and good luck. I can't wait to hear how it goes. And, rest assured, Twinklette will tell me all about it.
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
Twinkle: Someone Please Tell Fun Sink That Bella Is Half Muslim
Fun Sink has had the grand idea to invite Bella to the pool on Friday, which is all well and good, except that it means that I have to talk to Bella's mom about it, and Bella's mom thinks I'm weird. Because of Fun Sink. So it falls to me to coordinate the whole thing--"Hey, Bella's Mom--my mother-in-law and father-in-law would like to cordially invite Bella to the pool on Friday afternoon..." Who knows how Bella's mom feels about Bella going to the pool with a couple of strangers? I'm not sure I'd be cool with it. But I'm in the middle. It's Fun Sink's big idea and I have to arrange it--it's either that or unleash Fun Sink and her weirdness on Bella's mom, which will just make me look even worse than I already do to the mother of someone who's very important to Twinklette.
What bothers me about the whole thing is that Fun Sink is trying to force a friendship that doesn't need to be forced. Twinklette and Bella just click on some fundamental four-year-old level, and they don't need anyone pushing their friendship. I feel like Fun Sink has it in her mind that Bella is this wholesome example of Jewish girlhood, and it's just not the case. I'm a big fan of Bella's; I have absolutely nothing against her, even though I don't love dealing with her mom. Still, if she's a friend of Twinklette's, she's a friend of mine. I also like Twinklette's other school friends: the adorably named Alice, Mary Jane, Sadie, Evie...to mention a few. Why can't Fun Sink meddle with any of them? It's because she thinks Bella is the Jewish friend, and I guess Bella is. Halfway, at least.
If anyone wants to mention the other half of Bella's ethnic origin to Fun Sink, you would be doing me a huge favor.
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