I Leave it All to the Fonz

I understand the need for money for research, for important things like heart disease, breast cancer, and other horrible illnesses that befall the American public on a daily basis. But what I don’t agree with is the courts deciding on if the charity that someone chooses to donate to is worthy.

Matt Lauer told me this morning about Leona Helmsley. Sure, her nickname was The Queen of Mean. Sure, she was convicted of tax evasion and extortion and was a horrible terrible person to work for. Sure she left two of her grandkids out of her will and made her daughter-in-law a pauper when her son died. Sure she made headlines when she died a couple of years ago and she left $12 million to her dog, a cute little Maltese, who probably is a bigger bitch than her mom was. (not to speak ill of the dead or anything)

What I don’t get is how the courts have decided that Leona must not have possibly been in her right mind when she dictated that he fortune be spent on the care and benefit of dogs. She obviously did not trust or like people, and she must’ve really loved her Maltese, who is aptly named Trouble. And yes, she had a lot of f-in money.

The courts decided yesterday that the trustees of her charity can decide how the money will be spent. So they chose to donate $120 million plus to medical research, and only $1 million to dogs. Not that $1 million won’t be helpful in the fight against homeless animals, but $100 million would be REALLY helpful. It is like they are not taking her wishes into consideration AT ALL. Just because she was a terrible person, just because she treated people like crap, they are making her pay for it once she is gone. I just am not sure that is their right. It is setting a dangerous precedent. Let God handle Leona.

No one will ever know why Leona Helmsley was the way she was. She would berate people, casually fire people (and then her husband would say, “Oh, just ignore her.”) and break laws when it came to paying her taxes or employees. She left almost all of her money to charity, and now the dogs aren’t going to get their fair share. It’s not their fault. Let the dogs have their day.

Dogs, dogs, and more dogs!

For years, I have heard about how my friend Dr. Nadene’s husband wanted a Golden Retriever. He wanted one before he got his first love, Sullivan, the Jack Russell Terrorist…I mean, Jack Russell Terrier. (I love you Sully…you handsome devil you!!) Sully really is a good dog, other than his propensity to want to eat small children, most men and French Bulldogs. He’s a smart dog who loves his mom and dad. (sometimes I think that he could’ve run for President except for that damn opposable thumb requirement). Of course, I attribute his intelligence to osmosis when he was a puppy, with a doctor for a mom and an engineer for a dad, one could expect no less than a genius-dog.

When Dr. Nadene’s client realized that their home was getting foreclosed upon, and they couldn’t take their almost 2 year old Golden, Quincy, to their new apartment, Dr. Nadene offered to help. He is out of that puppy stage, housebroken, and best of all...RED!! And while I have to say that I was a little worried about how Sully Jack would react to a big ol’ dumb Golden intruding on his house, I think he is settling in just fine. Welcome to the family Quincy!!

Of course, when you have friends in the dog business, you come across lots of pups in need of a new home. Recently, with the economy, there has been a substantial increase of owner surrenders to shelters and rescues because people got in over their heads on mortgages, or lost their jobs, and now are losing their homes. Three years ago, it was the American dream; buy a house and a dog. Now, there are more cases than you can count of people who lose both. I used to volunteer with Adopt A Lab, and the founder knows that my first love are Goldens. So whenever she gets a Golden in, she will often e-mail me to see if I’d be interested. Needless to say, my plate is a little full lately, so I can’t adopt this young beauty. She is 7 months old and housebroken. Look at that expression!!

And then there is my friend Jennifer, who lives out in the country and meets all kinds of strange dogs. Stray dogs fall into her lap as she has worked in rescue for years and years. This all American dog (aka mutt) wandered into her life; she’s been named Heidi, is spayed, and apparently had a home before as she has made herself quite comfortable on Jennifer’s bed.

If you have a place in your home and your heart, (and you are in no danger of foreclosing), contact me and I’ll pass on the info!!

Skunks, squirrels, and God

A while back, I wrote about how Fonz tangled with his dear friend, Mr. Skunk. And how he seemed to be getting a clue about his friend, because the first time they met, there was barking, and chasing, and subsequently, a shot of urine to the face. (he must’ve gotten it right in the eyes, because he was rubbing his face on the porch and the wood got wet) And the next time, it was more on his body, and the third time, it was only on his tail. The first time it happened I jumped on the internet and it was there I discovered the magic potion that some delightful scientist came up with to rid dog fur of the aroma of skunk pee. It works wonders; except for the small detail of not getting the mixture of hydrogen peroxide and baking soda and dishwashing liquid anywhere near the eyes of the poor creature that was dumb enough to not stay away from Flower.

So last night, Fonz was out doing the rounds of the yard when he must have encountered his old buddy. And who says that old dogs can’t learn new tricks or that Goldens are dumb? Because FINALLY, after all these years, he has learned that when he sees that white stripe, to turn around and RUN FOR HIS LIFE. There was the beautiful smell of skunk in the air, but when Fonz came into the house, with his head down and tail tucked, dropping to his belly when asked the dreaded question, “What did you do?”, he DID NOT smell like the bastard Flower. I was so proud I gave him an attaboy.

On another note, baby Samantha (otherwise known as baby squirrel) is getting baptized on Saturday. Since I wasn’t on the ball to get her baptized before Lent, I had to wait until she was almost 4 months old. Fortunately, the dress that me and all of my sisters wore is drapey enough so that she could fit into it even if she was the size of a small elephant. We just may not button the top button…I don’t think God will mind. My favorite priest, Father Dan, is doing the honors, and we are having lasagna at my mom’s house afterward. There was some talk last Saturday night (I'll admit it, there was alcohol involved) of heading to the Neon Cactus to see my buddy Bruce afterwards, but I think that I am going to put off the trip until I can get a group together sometime later this year. It just seems sort of wrong, baptizing your kid and then ditching her with grandma while you go out and get wasted.

On a side note, I was talking to a co-worker of mine in her office just now, and my boss walks in and said, “I thought I’d find you in here.” Oops. Better get to work now…

You know when you have those dreams that you know that you need to wake up from, but you really just don’t want to? I had one this morning. It was great. (as a disclaimer, in my dream, I was definitely single with no children, and I lived with my parents. I also think there is a good chance I may have been around 20)

Long dream short, (only because at this point, I can’t really remember it much anymore) it involved Johnny Depp, Fonz, and me being in Johnny’s house…which the neighbors (who apparently knew he was a famous movie actor type) did NOT appreciate. And it was a hot Johnny Depp, who lived in a very middle-class neighborhood with a small but neatly maintained and landscaped fenced-in backyard; not the weird-looking one who lives in France and shaves his facial hair in an odd combination of a beard and a mustache. We hung out, and played with our dogs, and watched TV and drank something from a cup. It was awesome. I also recall that my parents were looking for me, and how pissed off they were that I had not come home in a couple of days. Not worried…pissed. Which means that they knew that I was staying at Johnny Depp’s house. And right at the end of the dream, there was a sweet kiss on the cheek good-bye…which now that I think about it, was the only kiss in the whole freakin’ dream. And then there was running from the neighbors, and diving into a car as it sped away.

How is it that I have a dream where I am in Johnny Depp’s house, yet all I get is a peck on the cheek??? It’s just not fair. If I am going to have a dream about not coming home because I am hanging out with Captain Jack Sparrow, it had better be for a good reason. I’d elaborate, but my mom reads this blog. Use your imaginations.

Jounaling my Life Away

I am painfully aware of how long it has been since I posted a blog, and that my last one was sad. I was sad at the time. It happens. And several times, I have opened up Microsoft Word to start typing, and I usually get as far as this…”So…back at work, not much going on.” Aaand that’s all I got.

I was talking to a girl at work this morning who has twins. They are about 15 months old, and she just figured out how to NOT work full-time and is going to stay home with her boys and work 2 days a week. JEALOUS!! I know, I know…quit complaining. I guess all of her friends are stay-at-home moms and so they are super excited to hang out with her…go to the beach, McDonalds (strictly for the playland), etc. I am hinging my stay-at-home status on Obama improving the economy…so get to it Mr. President!!

My friend in Jasper had a baby girl yesterday. She already has two boys, and had to practically negotiate her right arm to her husband to try for a third. She really wanted a girl. So I am super excited for her. There are two points to my story.

For all of you Indiana readers, have you ever noticed how everyone knows someone from Jasper? It’s the biggest small town you’ll ever visit. There are thousands and thousands of people who live there, but you can’t drive down the street without someone honking at you, which makes you turn and look and run a red light and almost get in a car accident. Except you don’t, because people in Jasper don’t drive like people who regularly drive in Chicago, or people who drive with people who regularly drive in Chicago. (I’ll use that as my excuse for my *ahem* "assertive" driving) I met my friend in college, as there are people in Jasper who go away to college, and then promptly move back when they graduate. A girl I work with also met her Jasper acquaintance in college. I think my boss has the same story. (although, to be fair, her friend is from Seymour or French Lick or someplace like that, which is definitely NOT Jasper, but close) I used to love going to Jasper because we could go out to the bars and I could act like either a) a total ass or b) a crazy drunk and everyone would look at me like, “Who IS that girl?” and I didn’t care and would have a great time. I have definitely left my mark on Jasper.

The other point about my story is something I posted on facebook. (which BTW…if you aren’t my friend, you should look me up, and if you aren’t on facebook, you should join!!) I asked if it was OK to spend my entire paycheck on baby clothes. I’ve kind of bought everything that I think is cute at Penney’s, so my next stop is Kohl’s. But I have a list of things that just MUST be bought for baby Kami. It’s going to require stopping at 4 stores at the minimum after work today, provided that Workaholic gets home on time. But I am SO EXCITED for her!!!!!

Speaking of shopping, one of the things that I am looking for is a journal. (Thanks to my BIL who bough me a Borders gift card for Christmas, I am going to spend more (or all) of it today.) Anyway, Matt’s aunt gave us a calendar when Samantha was born. It had both sides of the family birthdays and anniversaries in it, as well as tons of stickers for momentous occasions such as sleeping through the night, rolling over, first time on an airplane, finding fingers, and so forth. It’s for the first 12 months of her life, conveniently it started in January. It’s pretty damn cool…a keepsake, for sure. I’ve been pretty diligent about it, also writing in visitors and other little things. Plus, I have her baby book that I’ve been trying to keep up on; I just wrote in the page for her 3rd month…because starting today, she is beginning her 4th month of life. (can you believe it???)

Anyway, I was talking to my friend in Texas about these things, and she lamented on how with her second child, she just couldn’t keep up on baby books and such. So she started a journal. (she went back and did one for her older child too) She writes it to the child, and began with the story of their birth. (Oh boy, I had better hide mine from Samantha until she is of legal age) Every couple of weeks or once a month or whenever something cool happens, she writes it down in the journal. And I thought to myself, “Self…that is an excellent idea!” If you only have blank pages to fill, you can share what ever you want without having to define it as an Accomplishment or New Discoveries or writing about New Foods when your babe is 2 months old and not trying out any new foods. And there is room for pictures if you would want to put them in (or not) and you can write 3 pages (instead of 2 lines) on the first time she rolled over or how everyone fawned over her on the airplane or how she cried all day the first day back to work and Grandma watched her. You can write every day if you want, or once a month if you want. I want to start this now for a couple of reasons… 1) I think a girl would appreciate it so much more than if I'd had a boy 2) She is my first and 3) Even though I am notoriously terrible at journaling, if I don’t feel I have to write down deep thoughts and can just write 2 sentences about my daughter and how awesome she is, I am a helluva lot more likely to do it.

There is a blog that I follow where every month the mom writes a letter to her daughter about that month. Sometimes it is pretty personal and you feel kind of weird about reading it, until you remember that this woman and her husband are supported completely by her blog and she just wrote a book about her life (I imagine it was easier to write considering she had her blog to look back on) and maybe her husband does work, just not outside the home. And I thought that it would be pretty cool to do something similar, now this way I don’t have to bore all of you with all my baby obsessions. (with Fonz details in there too…because he’s right there with us!) I’ll let you know if this works out, it’s going to be pretty hard to journal in the beginning, because I have 3 months to catch up on!! I’m excited just to do the “How You Came Out” part. (and yes, I am fairly certain that my MIL has journals from her pregnancy and she told me all about them and at the time, I didn’t think it was a great idea…but now that she is here, it’s genius!!)

I think that I am going to pre-write the birth story, because if I don't, it'll come out all jumbled and the timeline will be all off and it'll just sound dumb. Off to journal!!

Ugh...

You know how this morning I was all like, "OK...back to work, not so bad."? Yeah...

I think this going back to work thing is messing me up. I am picking stupid fights with Workaholic, (and of course he knows nothing and sees no reason for me to be emotional, because I haven't shared my feelings lately, and so generally thinks that I am just a mean person) I'm getting pissed off at the stupidest of things, and generally just want to cry.

I am greeted when I get home by a very happy Fonz, who continues to be very clingy all evening. My little girl is also happy to see me, but I feel so out of the loop. How much did she sleep today? How has she eaten? Is she hungry now or sleepy now and how long is she going to play with me before she gets to be one of those? And I feel like I should just hold her and play with her, to make up for the fact that I ditched her all day (with a very loving grandma). But I am also exhausted and the dishwasher needs to be emptied, and oh yeah...I am also starving. Plus there is laundry to do and there is some sticky shit all over the floor.

I know, this is the life of a working mom. And I can do it, it'll all get done, or if it doesn't, the world won't fall apart. In my head, I know that. But in my heart, it hurts. I just wish that I could be as common sense about it on the inside as I am on the outside. And as I sit and type this, Samantha is with her daddy in the bathroom, getting ready for her bath, and when she goes to bed, I probably will too. The pre-baby me would've stayed up watching the series finale of ER (because I really can't wait to watch it and probably will even though I know I should go to bed). However, the post-baby me might just go to bed. We'll see.

Everyone says that having a baby changes your life. And how it is so hard, but totally worth it. Right now, this hard part sucks!! Too bad maternity leave isn't, like, a year paid. That would be nice.

A Wild Time

This was my first trip to Houston, and Workaholic's second. The first time he went down there, he didn't check the weather, and all he took were shorts and T-shirts. He literally had to go buy a new coat and jeans and long-sleeved shirts. When we got there, it was pouring down rain, and it rained again the next day (hello humidity!!) and on Saturday, it was cold. And windy. It felt like Chicago. By the middle of the afternoon, it had turned into a nice day, if you were wearing 3 layers. But we didn't let that stop us!

You know how when you are a little kid, you go to the zoo and just want to play with all the wild animals? And you could spend an hour just standing in front of the tiger exhibit, wondering if they are ever going to wake up, but if they don't, it's OK because you just like to look at them and wonder what their fur feels like and if they smell bad? And would the zookeepers even notice if you crawled into the enclosure? (OK, maybe that was just me) And Workaholic. To this day, he still sees a tiger and says, "Kitty." He wants one, but I put the kabosh on that. So, while in Houston, we took Samantha to the zoo for the first time.



It was really for our friends' kids benefit, because I thought, "Really...she is 11 weeks old, she isn't even going to notice the animals." But she stayed awake almost the whole time, and never cried, and just really loved taking in all the scenery and the animals. I really wanted a family picture in front of the tiger, so this is what we were able to get...

I honestly am not in favor of most zoos. Wild animals are not meant to be kept in captivity, especially when the enclosures are just not big enough. The Houston Zoo is nice enough, but they have 9 elephants, and the space where they are kept is about 20 times too small. (They are big, and need lots of room!) But zoos are super educational and a great way of teaching kids. My friend's 5 year old little boy heard the narrator on a tour we took say that alligators can be born female but turn into male! Crazy!!

Anyway, we had a great time, and Houston is a great place for kids, so I know we will go back. Maybe when she gets a little older...more of a handful!!