lawmummy

The only good thing about today is that the "Top Chef" finale is on TV tonight.  The way that my day is going, Marcel will probably win (groan).

I’m tired.  I’m grumpy.  I’ve got a lot to say and I’m not focused enough to compose an organized post.  It will likely be random bits of information.  So, fasten your seat belts, kids…  This is going to be a bumpy ride.

Chris and I have not had a decent conversation since he returned from Germany.  That’s because we’ve been putting out fires (yes, one almost literally since the light bulb in our piece of shit stainless Kenmore fridge almost set Katie’s lunch bag on fire) since Sunday.  Our longest talk of the day was a fight about the cost of a cup of coffee (for the record, it was $1.05 and his bagel with cream cheese was $1.75 which was more - yes, that’s exactly the deep, important topic that we quarreled over).

At the office, we faced a major tax deadline - with no working printer, fax or copier (thanks Canon).  That’s right.  Our printer (which we’re leasing for almost $10k) died last Wednesday.  The "service rep" charged with fixing it couldn’t tape a piece of copy paper together.  He spent most of the time during his FOUR (yes, FOUR) service calls at our office on the phone.  He brought one broken part and one incorrect part.  Today, he ostensibly finished the job.  I didn’t feel good about it, so I had Chris double-check the network settings before he left (our last visit resulted in one of the computers not being able to print).  Ta-da!  No network!  No fax.  No print.  No scan.  But, of course, the copier worked - well, not after the first hour, when we had to call for service AGAIN.

I spent most of the day trying to avoid dropping the f-word anymore than necessary plowing through two Canon service calls (and multiple phone calls) in front of the children.  Children.  Plural.  Super Nanny had a job interview today, so the children came to the office with me.

Amy and Charlie were both well-behaved considering that it wasn’t the best environment for them.  Charlie is also struggling with a cold and a horrible diaper rash.  Poor little guy.

I took Amy with me to pick Katie up from school.  While there, I got the heads up from the assistant teacher that the head teacher would be calling today to discuss Katie’s behavior.  Lovely.

The phone call centered around the fact that Katie did not listen well today, a trait that she is demonstrating more often than not.  She was also being defiant.  And she threw a block at the teacher.  At. The. Teacher. 

Caution:  *Veering into crazed ramblings*  I have this fear that Katie has ADD.  I can’t say it out loud.  My friend once mentioned it to me and I shrugged it off.  Katie is, I just thought, gregarious and curious and loud.  Like me.  But I don’t know that it’s just that.  I worry that her inability to focus on conversations and her tendency to be incredibly hyper-active for long periods of time is something more than just being overtired from time to time (my usual excuse) or acting her age (other kids her age can behave).  And there are other things.  Her memory isn’t great.  She writes some letters backwards and has a tendency to get "stuck" on certain concepts. 

And hate me or think I’m terrible, but I’ll just lay it out for you…  I have no idea how to handle a child that has a behavioral or learning issue.  There.  No, I didn’t expect my children to be perfect.  And I have been remarkably blessed to have such wonderful kids - they are beautiful and friendly and charming and smart.  But I have, in the pit of my stomach, this horrible "what if" that if Katie really does have ADD or something like it, that I won’t be able to handle it.  And it sucks.

Just before bed, I tried to talk to Katie about the hitting.  She laughed and didn’t pay attention.  It did not go well.

Chris left for his class tonight with the announcement that he didn’t want to be a lawyer anymore.  That makes two of us.

On the plus side, I got a call from my brother that my parents are fine.  Oh, I didn’t mention that?  Mom’s been vomiting for days because her insulin levels are off (new meds) and my dad had surgery today to repair some muscle damage in his arm.  He had difficulty coming out of recovery from his last surgery so we were all on pins and needles until we got the okay.  He is staying overnight in the hospital.

I know.  Whine, whine, whine.  Sorry.  Can’t help it.  It’s been a shitty day.

So, you know I hate court.

And you know I’m a lawyer in Philadelphia.

Ergo I hate court in Philadelphia.

All of that said, here’s a really cool synopsis of jury duty in Philly by a fellow blogger.  It almost makes me want to sit on a jury.

I know.  This is old news.  But it still bothers me.  I guess it bothers me most because I’m conflicted.

On the one hand, I feel badly for Tyra.  I think she’s stunning - one of the most beautiful models in the world.  And I don’t think she deserves the amount of crap that she’s getting about her weight (reportedly 161 pounds at 5′10").  People gain weight.  People get older.  Get over it already.

But on the other hand, she’s made her money in an industry that makes no bones (pun totally intended) about the fact that skinny is 100% equated with beautiful.  Fat girls are not pretty.

You know that I have struggled with this concept for my whole life.   It’s tough being overweight.  It’s tough for a million reasons but mostly it’s because our society is overly judgmental and overly cruel about fat people.

The thing that is so terrible is that we are so willing to embrace those that are skinny as having this amazing willpower and assume that those who are overweight simply lack self-policing.  Wrong.

If you read the things that folks are saying about Tyra now, you’ll see what I am talking about.  People are calling her "lazy" and a "fat ass" as if those are synonymous.  Lazy?  Hardly.  The woman has two hit TV shows.  How is that remotely lazy?

And me?  I have no time in the day…  especially for exercising.  This is because I am chasing three children, running a business, chairing a few committees, writing a book and trying to maintain some semblance of a normal life with my husband.  Definitely not lazy.  But I’m an easy target - like a number of people who are overweight.  People cannot fathom how that could possibly happen unless I - like Tyra, apparently - am sitting around tossing bonbons into my mouth and doing little else.  And they offer no sympathy.

But Kate Moss?  Skinny Kate Moss?  She can snort all the coke that she can get her anorexic little hands on apparently and the world feels collective sympathy for her.

Okay, no hate mail from Narcotics Anonymous.  This isn’t meant to be a slam on drug addicts.  Or alcoholics (just wait).  My point, though, is that society is generally willing to give folks with other kinds of addictive behaviors the benefit of the doubt.  We generally give some credence to those struggles.  But add a pound or two…?  Gasp.  Then you’re just disgusting.

And I guess that’s what I’m finding so hard to understand about all the hoopla.  Lindsay Lohan enters rehab for drinking too much, we’re asked to respect her privacy.  Keith Urban enters rehab for cocaine use, he gets a standing ovation at the CMAs.  And yes, I think that recovery is a huge undertaking and those who succeed deserve kudos.  But apply this same standard to overeating?  We wouldn’t think of it.  When Kirstie Alley went on a diet, you didn’t hear, "Good for her."  You heard, "About damn time."

We’re willing to forgive some kinds of behavior but not being fat.  In our society, fat is still so very gauche.

We’re also willing to be more than generous with our use of the word "fat."  Tyra’s weight actually puts here within the acceptable range for her height.  But the slams?  The tabloids labeled her “Tyra Porkchop” and “Fatty Fatty Boombalatty”.  Bloggers call her "lard ass" and "fat ass" - they say that she’s "past her prime" and "big as a house."

Sigh.

It scares me to think my daughters are growing up in a society where we are this focused on weight.  That’s why I can’t really reconcile this whole Tyra thing.  Yes, it’s absolutely terrible what people are saying.  But it’s also a little difficult for me to balance my sympathy for Tyra against the backdrop of the lifestyle that she once promoted.  The fashion industry has historically not been kind to anyone who is not ridiculously skinny - and it has made girls like me feel bad about ourselves for years.  Why is Tyra surprised to hear differently now?

The polls are closing shortly and many, many of you have yet to vote for what I’ll be doing in the month of February.  I know because I’ve had thousands of visits in the month of January and a measly 76 votes. 

And the front runner so far?  Smiling more.  I’ll do my best, but really, I can only do so much…  I won’t tell you my favorite but I will say that it’s not one of the top three so far.

Voting ends in three days.  So vote away.  And it looks like the technical glitches have been fixed - but if you have trouble, you can still vote via the comments.

* Bonus points if you can name that film (Madgirl, put your hand down).

Yes, I colored my hair over the weekend. I needed a lift. The highlights refused to die and I thought my hair looked more dated than normal - and I’m sure I grew a thousand grey hairs at the Chuck E. Cheese (more on that in another post). So, whilst browsing at the CVS, I picked up a box of Natural Instincts “Spiced Tea” which sounds very pretty. Spiced Tea = Bright Red.

I dunno, I kind of like it. I am in the mood for a change. More on changes also coming later in another post (no, no, no, not pregnant!)…

At any rate, these are Amy’s comments:

Amy: Mommy, you changed your hair.

Mommy: Yes, I did.

Amy: It’s red now.

Mommy: Yes, it is.

Amy: But only in the back.

She’s kind of right.

It’s Green Thumb Sunday!

Who says winter has to be dull?

Here’s a little color to brighten your day, courtesy of my hubby, Morris Arboretum and Nikon.

I think it’s an American Winterberry, but I’m really not sure. If you have any ideas, let me know.

I’ve received a couple of complaints about comments not showing up…  Typepad is looking into it.  If it’s happened to you, and you weren’t spamming me or saying something horribly offensive, then please either leave a comment below or send me a note letting me know the details, so that we can find out what’s happening.

Thanks.

I have to go to Chuck E. Cheese today.  At 9:30 in the morning.  At a mall.  In the suburbs.  For a birthday party.

Part I

We open with Katie refusing to get ready for school this morning because she needed to make a storybook for Chelsea.  She was two hours late for school.  (Note:  It’s Pre-K and it’s Quaker so the school didn’t seem to care.  I, on the other hand, did.)

Part II

I am informed that the copier is not yet fixed from yesterday.  It needs more parts.  The copier is networked as our fax, printer and copier.  I must bring a fax machine from home.

Part III

Katie does not wished to be picked up when I arrive to get her.  I have to forcibly remove her from the room.  She is screaming, refuses to wear a coat (thermometer says 31 outside).  Parents are staring.  They are Quakers.  Quakers do not scream.

Part IV

Amy falls asleep on the way home from picking up Katie.  She is not happy to get out of the car.  She spends the next hour screaming at the top of her lungs.

Part V

I attempt to Skype with Chris in Germany.  Amy is still screaming.  Katie is crawling all over me.  Charlie is clinging to me like a monkey.  All four of us are sitting in a cheap computer chair from Office Depot.  I am not happy.

Part VI

After we Skype, I send Katie downstairs to set the table while I get Charlie ready for dinner.  We have made pizza (black olive and mushroom, the girls put the toppings on) and the oven is beeping.  Katie starts screaming on the way down the stairs.  She had an accident.  There is pee everywhere.   I go to clean it up.  Katie spends the next several minutes yelling, "You’re walking in the pee!" and crying.

Part VII

Amy follows me into the kitchen and starts shrieking, "Somebody left dog poop!" and pointing at the floor.  It is a smushed olive.  I tell her so and clean it up with a paper towel.  She next asks, "Why did you clean it up?" and then says, sullenly, "Katie did it."  She will not stop talking.

Part VIII

More crying.  I put the plates on the table and Katie freaks out because hers is blue.  She wants purple.  I silently curse Chris for going away.

Part IX

Everyone is seated.  Katie now has a purple plate.  There is no more crying for a moment.  I go into the kitchen to get paper towels.  I hear a crash and Katie screams, "Charlie!" and starts crying again.  I rush out, fearing the worst.  Charlie is fine.  However, Charlie "the Hulk" has managed to grow arms three feet long and pull the cutting board off of the table.  The cutting board had the pizza on it.  The pizza is now face down on the floor.  I think for a brief moment and decide that I might be able to salvage the pizza.  I go into the kitchen to get a spatula.  I hear Katie yelling "Lyle is eating it!"  and yes, Lyle is now eating the pizza.  I call for delivery.

Part X

I order pizza from the mediocre pizza place down the street because it is only two blocks away.  The pizza takes 45 minutes to get to the house and it is cold.  The girls have snacked so much in the interim that they are no longer hungry which is good because the pizza is not even mediocre; it is not good in the least.

Part XI

At 45 minutes past their bedtime, the girls are still getting into pajamas.  Amy had pooped in her diaper and insisted on going potty nonetheless.  Normally, I am all about the effort.  But I am tired and I am grumpy.  Katie is having a fit swearing that she has to go potty, too.  I tell her to use the little potty.  She pees all over it.  She gets up, looks at me and says, "Can I brush my teeth again?"  I try to resist the urge to kill her.

Part XII

At 55 minutes past bedtime, Amy has finally gotten into her pajamas.  I was not allowed to help.  My hair was graying watching her put on pajama bottoms for 10 minutes interspersed with "I can’t do it!" and "Don’t help me!".  She put her shirt on backwards.  It remains backwards. 

Part XIII

It has to be almost midnight.  I am ridiculously exhausted.  And grumpy.  I look at the clock.  It is 8:30pm.  Apparently, God hates me.

Because she reminded me of you… That’s one of my favorite lines from a Gin Blossoms song, named appropriately “Cheatin’.”

I’ve been thinking about this cheating thing a lot lately, mostly as a results of comments and emails stemming from my post about friendly relationships with men. I guess I still don’t get the apprehension related to men having relationships with women. Is it really a fear of cheating? And more importantly, what do you consider cheating to be?

Chris and I view cheating very differently, this is something that we have discussed before. As horrified and hurt as I would be by a one night stand, that pales in comparison to how I would feel if he were having what I have deemed an “emotional affair” with another person. In this country, we’re so quick to define sex as a basis for a relationship, but it’s not. A real relationship isn’t about the sex, even if sex is involved. You can have sex - even good sex - with another person and still not be compatible enough with that person to maintain a relationship outside of the sex. Case in point: a good friend had a “sex only” relationship with her high school boyfriend long after high school was over. Whenever she was out of a relationship (and honestly, sometimes while still in one), she would get the itch and call him for sex. It meant nothing as far as she was concerned - or so she said. I don’t get how you can have a relationship for that long and not have any emotional attachment, but maybe that’s just me.

The bigger point is, though, does sex have to be involved in a relationship in order to label it cheating? And if so, why then would women be so concerned when their husbands and boyfriends have female friends? Is a fear that it might become sex? Or is it more sinister… this fear that a female friend might make some emotional connection?

Explain this to me, please.