My Parents vs. Any and All GPS Navigational Systems

This weekend I went to the homeland (NJ) for my cousin's wedding. It was great fun, lots of booze, wealthy old dudes who made their fortune on bowling alleys and pin ball machines, way to much food, and a next day brunch that didn't start until noon (see lots of booze, supra).

But for the majority of the weekend, when I was not on a party bus, I was in the car with my parents and their navigational system. Driving with my parents used to be frustrating - my mom knows every single road in Bergen County NJ and my dad usual knows two ways to get somewhere (1) the right way and (2) a HIGHLY inconvenient, stupid way. He always chooses (2) and we can't say anything to him, well because, he is the dad. So basically it becomes my mom telling him where to go, him going his stupid way, everyone groaning because for this reason and also because they also only listen to "Oldies" and we are going to be in the car for a long time even if we are going 5 miles.

Enter the GPS. As a preliminary matter, my dad is a "fiddler" in that he physically cannot drive without messing with some knob in the car - the temperature controls, the radio, the windows, the mirrors, etc. Thus you always feel about one switch from CBS FM to 1010 WINS from an accident. Needless to say, the GPS (and satellite radio) ups this fear because it is another thing to fiddle with.

The GPS also creates a new dynamic. The entire ride, ENTIRE RIDE, is my mom going "Oh its taking us down X road!" "I wonder if we will go down X road!" "Do you know where we are? we are at X!" "L went to basketball camp here!" "You played soccer here!" "This is where you broke your foot!!" and my dad turning at the street before the street we are supposed to go down because "turn in 500ft" apparently means "turn now" to him. Well sometimes it is "is this the road? is it is it?" and my mom responding "Oh we are X!!!, it is taking us to X" and us missing the right turn. My dad also puts in random addresses because he claims the GPS doesn't recognize their address. So he uses his office's address. His office is three towns from their home. This "fix" adds 20 minutes on to every ride home.

After the last ride with them, I said goodbye, thanked them, got in my car and drove immediately home. To Philadelphia. Without using my effin' GPS.

In other news, they asked me if they could get rid of their apartment and live with me 10 days out of every month. Because I do believe that one should always be there for the people that were there for you in the tough times and because they are my parents, I obviously can't say no. Also obvious - this development solidifies what was already likely - I will be alone for the rest of my life.

A Tale of Two Saturdays

Here is what Jillian did on Saturday. Compared to what I did. She went to the mall with my parents while I had the pleasure of going to work to draft an opposition to a cross-motion for summary judgment. I know, I know, I am one lucky girl. Without my supervision, Jillian convinced my mom to (1) give her soda (apparently she didn't like it) and (2) take her to the Disney Store. Effin' princesses.

That is when things went down hill in terms of our princess consumption. Somehow they left the Disney Store with a full-out Cinderella dress and glass slippers that are "up shoes"* and light up with each step. I think the total cost was upwards of $50. Seriously, Disney is a marketing machine. Then they got a Phillies t-shirt. I think that was about $8. Go Phillies! Or as J says "YEAH PHILS!! REPEAT!"

Anyway, I came home after a solid 6 billable hours (work has seriously picked up) and Jillian was sitting in a Cinderella dress, being a princess, while playing with a princess castle. And I was jealous.

*J's term for high heels.

A Farewell to Buddy

It has been a rough month for pets at my house. First the untimely demise of "Mommy" the goldfish. Then on Friday at about 11 am I got a call from our nanny telling me that my cat Buddy had died. Buddy wasn't sick, he was approximately 3 years old, and it was all totally unexpected.

I told Jillian about it on Saturday when she wanted to throw the plastic milk ring to Buddy-bo. She asked if he would be coming back and I said no. Then she asked "does this mean we don't have a cat anymore?" When I said yes, that was when the tears came. I reminded her that she still had two cats at her father's house and J, once again demonstrating her practical thinking said that we should bring one of those cats to my house.

Anyway, I am bummed. Buddy was a good cat. Unobtrusive, a good companion, neat and clean. Not much more you can ask for in a cat. As soon as I held him in the shelter he started to purr, so we adopted him. He made good on that first representation and I am pretty sure he was a happy cat while he was with us.

So, pour one out for Buddy.

Life With a Three Year Old

Jillian turned three last week. She was very excited, even though it was a low key birthday. Her teacher emailed me to say that they do a celebration first thing in the morning and that I was to bring in a COLLAGE OF PICTURES OF J. Seriously? A craft project?! Work has been busy and I do not have time for crafts. But I bucked the eff up and went to get craft supplies - poster board and a sharpie. Except there was only black poster board at the local CVS so I had to get glitter pens. $15 later I was armed to make the damn collage. And I did make it, at the very last minute.

It was worth it I suppose. J was very excited to see the collage and tell her classmates about the pictures. She told them that every picture of her when she was "boring." (She meant born, even though they were pictures of her "through the ages" as I was instructed to use). Then we ate munchkins. Good times all around.

Later, when we were home, we had some ice cream cones. She asked me if I like "messy faces" or "clean faces." I said clean faces (duh) and then she said "then don't look at me" and dug into the ice cream cone.

Fish update - I didn't buy the new fish. Instead, I told her that one fish got sick and was gone. She took it well. I didn't ask if it was "Mommy" or "Jillian." A week or so later, she informed me that the fish in the bowl was "Jillian." I guess that means "Mommy" bit it.

I am totally boring lately, but wanted to post some pictures of J's birthday.

Sleeps with the Fishes

J's nanny bought her two goldfish. This was a long time coming and I had dodged it for months. But it happened on Monday. Two fish. In a small bowl. Just waiting to die within a few weeks, maybe months if they are lucky.

I asked J what she named them and she said "Mommy and Jillian." I was touched. But apparently she told X when he was sad he was left out that it could be "Dada and Jillian" when he was at our house. (Just picking her up).

But today, a Saturday on a weekend that I don't have J, I checked in on the fish and sho 'nuff one was floating on top of the water, dead. Didn't even make it a week. She or he didn't look good the other day and I told J that she/he might be sick. Turns out she/he was sicker than I realized.

Now the question is - do I get a replacement fish tomorrow and act like nothing happened, or do I tell her about the demise of either "Mommy" or "Jillian?"

The pros of telling her the truth are (1) I don't have to find a pet store tomorrow to get another fish; (2) I REALLY do not want the fish, so I don't want to prolong this whole fish experiment, which replacing the fish would do, and (3) I don't have to lie to her - I actually don't lie to her, I mean she normally catches me in it anyway or calls my bluff....

And the cons are the following: (1) we have to deal with the concept of death; (2) she named the fish MOMMY and JILLIAN (I really wish it was like Nancy and Tony or something); (3) the trauma may require another fish which defeats one of the pros.

So what do I do? I really don't know. I have until Monday at 11:45pm to figure it out.....

WOOF

Jillian has learned to ask people with dogs if their dog is friendly and if she can pet it. So now, every time we see a dog she wants to talk to the owner. The owner is rarely a hot single guy.

J's love of dogs goes back a long way. "Woof" was one of the first words she said. She called dogs "woofs" (and horses were "woofs" and cats too). Here she is with a great dog, Emma, who we got to hang out with in concrete city. Oh and when she was going through a tutu phase.



And here is J, bizarley and Emma playing a game called "go to your home." Basically J or bizarley would tell both dogs to go to their home (cage) and one dog would listen - that would be Emma - while Harley either ignored us or just checked out what was going on and went on his way.



Anyway, Emma is getting alot of (long overdue) press these days, so I am jumping on the bandwagon.

This fool got into school?

Just kidding J is no fool. Just acting like one in this picture. Apparently she is tearing it up at school. She got to use scissors for the first time ever, made a peace pinwheel, and is already talking about graduating. Yup, graduating to a school where she gets to bring her lunch in a lunch box, a lunch consisting of a sandwich and a juice box.

Above all, J does not even turn to say goodbye when I drop her off at school. She just walks right in, says hi to the people who open the door, and goes straight up the stairs her classroom. While I am beyond happy that she has transitioned into it without tears or fits, alittle angst about leaving home for part of the day would be nice. But, whatever, I will take a low key kid that just rolls with it.

Her teacher said to me, and I quote "that girl is going to run something someday, I am not sure what...but something."

Let's hope that it is some profitable corporation that does not flaunt Sarbanes-Oxley, does not need a bailout from the feds, does not create shell corporations to sidestep FASB regulations, and leaves little to no emissions footprint, rather than something like "the mob" or "a brothel."