Disappointed and Sad

My cousin Michelle (not her real name) was born when I was in high school, and while we didn't live nearby and I was too cool to hang out with a baby, she and I grew very close.

Her parents would often point to me and tell her to keep her grades up so she could grow up, go to college, and be successful, like me.

When I introduced G to the family at my college graduation, she immediately developed a crush on him. She would introduce us to her friends as "This is my cousin, Jilt, and this is...this is...this is my G." She would sit as close as possible to him during family meals and get-togethers. She would eagerly get him a beer when he asked for it. She was almost attached to his side for years.

On a long car trip when she as about 10 years old, G taught Michelle about gravity by demonstrating how her Beanie Babies fell when dropped. She called us six months later when her class was learning about gravity and she felt superior because she already knew all about it from "her" G.

I found a birthday card that said something like "send this card back to me on my birthday." For 10 years, we'd send that card back and forth, resigning it and rewriting birthday wishes. We'd find new ways to package it so the other wouldn't know it was "the" card. I don't know what happened it or why it stopped.

Then, her parents divorced. My uncle got custody of Michelle after a long, hard fight with his ex-wife. It was the best thing for her. Michelle went on to become a straight A student and a cheerleader. She actually changed my perspective of cheerleaders - she was friends with everyone, very empathetic, really truly a nice person, and wicked smart.

Last Christmas at a family get together at my parents' house, Michelle got into a big fight with her boyfriend (a 22 year old part-time tattoo "artist with a major marijuana habit), resulting in hours of screaming, crying phone conversations in the middle of the night. At one point, I went outside to ask her to keep it down. I took the phone away from her, told boyfriend (whom I've never met) that she'd call him tomorrow, and escorted her to her room. I held her as she cried about the silly thing they were fighting over (kid stuff, really). She thanked me the next day for listening to her.

I found out this weekend that Michelle, now a senior in high school, is pregnant. With the tattoo artist's child. She's about three months along and has totally abandoned plans to go to college.

I don't know what to do, what to say. I'm so disappointed in her. I'm so sad for her. I'm worried about what her future holds now that she's going to be a mom. And, I know that she's not ready for the responsibility of motherhood.

Really? 10 a.m. on a Tuesday...

I work "outside the home." I'm unapologetic about having a career and a family. But it's things like this that really tick me off.

Today in my inbox, I received an email from Pottery Barn Kids - a store in which I've spent more than a reasonable amount of money over the last three years. Seems good ol' Pottery Barn Kids has launched a Book Club. Nice enough, right? Well, the club meets Tuesday mornings. Tuesdays. As in, during the work week. At a time when I'm ... well, working.

It's not like we would (probably) attend weekly reading events at an overpriced retailer, but it really annoys me that companies blatantly disregard working moms.

Steps off soap box.

Where Bon Bons Play on the Sunny Beach of Peppermint Bay

(I'm all about song lyrics as titles this week.)

Pumpkin had a valentine's party at school yesterday. I sent him off with 17 tractor-themed valentines and a package of string cheese, our contribution to the party spread.

I was not prepared for the glut of sugary goodness that Pumpkin brought home.

I love me some chocolate. I might even be an addict. I'm okay with that. I'm not okay with stuffing my 2.5 year old with HoHos, a pound of kisses, Reese's cups, Tootsie Rolls, Hersey bars, seven bags of M&Ms, and more. The loot filled an entire mixing bowl. Seriously, are parents feeding their kids this crap?

I don't deprive Pumpkin of tasty, bad-for-you treats like French fries or cookies or candies. But, I dole them out in small doses. As treats. Even on V-Day, I didn't think to buy this stuff for Pumpkin.

So, this morning for breakfast, Pumpkin told me he wanted "candy." I explained we don't eat candy for breakfast and he cried. (He gave up when he realized that he wasn't going to get chocolate for breakfast.) Now I have to figure out what to do with all this stuff before I eat it all.

Have you ever been annoyed/overwhelmed/dismayed by what other parents think is acceptable? Am I depriving Pumpkin by being really selective about when/how much candy he eats? Most importantly, how do I get rid of the candy without resorting to eating it all?

Valentine's Wishes Come True

Last week, G asked what I wanted for Valentine's Day. My response: "Figure out what the F we're going to do with the first floor flooring - hardwood, laminate, pergo, don't care, but figure it out for V-Day."

This morning, G announced that we're doing the lower level of the house in bamboo flooring, which makes me happy. So, good Valentine's Day.

With that, I leave you with my favorite Valentine image EVER - Behold, Pumpkin on his first Valentine's Day:

"Mom, what the hell are you doing to me? This totally ruins my image!"

Cruisin' Down the Highway in this Big Ol' Cadillac and It's So Hard..."

Originally written late Monday night, but stupid Blogger wouldn't allow me to upload...

So, I'm on my way to KC for meetings tomorrow. What can go wrong? Let me count the ways:

1) Elevators broken. Must treck down 20 flights of stairs. Carrying luggage. And my laptop bag. While wearing a wool coat, wool sweater, and cute lil' heels. (UPDATED: two days later, can barely walk.)

2) Ice storm turn a four hour drive into an eight hour one.

3) Rental car (a big, ol' red Caddy 'cause I'm apparently 80 years old, or a "Baptist preacher's wife," according to my colleague and travel companion) comes without window washer fluid. Buy some. Go through an entire gallon on the drive.

4) Massive windshield on said red Caddy will. not. stay. defrosted. Try everything. Only effective thing is to have the heat on 80 degrees and the windows opened.

5) Solution to the windshield icing problem results in a smiley faced crack across the front windshield. Nice.

Thank goodness this is the last trip for a few weeks. Travel resumes in March!

50 bonus points to the person who can name the movie on which the title of this post is based.

Family Update

Thanks to everyone who has asked about my family.

My mom is healing well from her knee replacement. After learning about my dad's condition, her doctor approved in-home physical therapy for my mom. She has her last session on Friday. An amazing recovery. She really is super human. I think she pushed herself because she thought she needed to take care of my dad. She's selfless like that. My mom is awesome.

My dad is also doing well. He's still confined to a wheel chair and under very strict orders to not put any weight on his broken ankle. But he's healing. He's bored to death, sitting at home, not able to go anywhere, do anything.

My sister came out to help my parents twice during the last month. For Julie, that's a minor miracle.

My cousin and her baby? The autopsy results are not in yet, but my cousin has checked herself into rehab.

It's been a hell of an '08 already. Damn.

No "P" in P's Alphabet

Alternative title: How many times can I say "potty" in this entry?

So Pumpkin is potty training. School's trying to get him to use the potty, and we're trying to get him to use the potty at home.

A year ago, Pumpkin was totally into the potty. In fact, we bought him one, two, three potties since it was so interesting to him. Then it happened.

Pumpkin was sitting on his blue potty before bathtime, and WHIZ! He started peeing. Since he hates the boy cup on the potty, he shot clear across the room.

"I leak! I leak!" he said.

Suddenly, Pumpkin was not interested in the potty.

Fast forward a year. Pumpkin refuses to pee in the potty - "it's icky," he says. But #2, yeah we got that covered. He's 2'd in the potty all week. His teachers can't believe that he's jumping to "Advanced Potty-ing" without any interest in the remedial class (a.k.a. "Just pee already").

What to do?