The Apple, it does not fall far....

On Wednesday, Jillian saw a commercial for Sketchers, the shoes. And a can of worms was opened. Now, she has always been interested in shoes. She has a million pairs and is very picky about when she will wear what. But this was a whole new level of obsession.

As we ate breakfast, we talked about Sketchers. She wanted pink ones and then "brown ones with sparkles that are boots." The second request was confusing, as I had not seen the commercial (I was brushing my teeth), but alittle googling taught me that she mean a high top chuck taylor like shoe. Anyway, she talked and talked and talked about them. I told her that we can get Sketchers, because she needs shoes anyway. So then on the walk to school she negotiated when exactly we would purchase said Sketchers. I offered Saturday, she said why not after work that day? I offered Saturday again, she accepted.

So we went to the mall this weekend. Luckily, they had the Sketchers she wanted at Nordstroms. They are pink, COVERED in sequins, and have butterflies on them. They are redonk. And apparently they are called "twinkle toes." And apparently, I have to refer to them as "twinkle toes" not as "sparkly sneakers."* She also picked out about four other pairs of shoes and proceeded to try on the floor samples as she was soooo excited. Finally, we got someone to help us and she informed him that "the commercial told me that I should want them." Then she tried on the Sketchers and two other pairs of sandals. We negotiated that she could get the Sketchers, er Twinkle Toes and ONE pair of sandals if she was good for the rest of the day, listened to me and didn't fuss at bed time. Deal. We shook on it and everything. I guess that shoes are worth pretty much anything.

Then the entire way home she held the box of Sketchers and said "I love my Sketchers" over and over again.

Thus, so while my child does not look like me at all, I know she is mine because at age three she is obsessed with shoes.

In other news, on the playground I overheard an adult tell her, "Looks like you figured that out" and J respond "I figure out alot of things, I am very smart." And modest.....

* Kind of like how there is no "Houston" only "Houston, Texas."

Happy St. Patty's Day!

My mom has been here this week and bought J a green outfit and shamrock barrettes. There were 6 barrettes in the package and J insisted on wearing all 6 today to school. So what the hell, go for it little boo.

In other news, today at work an assistant came by and asked if I wanted to go to the bar at lunch. I figured maybe my new firm was cooler than I originally thought and they went for green beers at lunch on St. Patrick's Day. I was really busy, but again, what the hell, I'll drink at lunch. Thus, my answer was "always, where are we going?"

Turns out that she was asking if I wanted to go to a Philadelphia Bar association event where John King was speaking at lunch. Whoops.

In my defense, she was wearing green. Thus, I took her for one to celebrate the day.

Oh well. Lately, I have been thinking that I need a job that is easy. My life is a constant brain fart and I feel like I am not smart enough to do my job. Any suggestions?

Like Sands Through the Hour Glass

So are the days of our lives....only mine is not worthy of a tv show. There are no evil twins, secret pregnancies that end in a baby being stolen, and no Stefano DeMuro.

Today is the Erin Express, a Philly tradition and an complete drunken debacle. It also marks my three year anniversary of living here. I can't believe it has been three years, yet at the same time, it feels like I have been here forever. J is alot bigger, I have a new job, I have more bad dates under my belt, I worry about my parents more, but other than that - still a lawyer, still single, still basically the same.

I have two divorced friends, who have been separated/divorced for about the same length of time that I have been. They will both be getting married this year. I have yet to enjoy myself on a third date.

In fact, the last date I went out on was a third date. This is how it ended - I get in a cab, he follows me, I say that is ok, he gets in anyway, I try to pay for the cab, he won't let me (he wouldn't let me pay for anything over the course of the three dates and was kind of flashy about money while at the same time condescending about it), I informed him that my money was good and that I had a job, cab stops I get out and say I am fine, he starts to get out, I push him back into the cab and said "don't" then I walked to my house.

Needless to say, we were not making any love pies.

Sigh. Everyone keeps saying that it will get better. I guess I will just keep waiting. Until I am in a nursing home by myself hoping J visits.

I apologize for the lack of postings lately. I have been swamped at work. I have not seen my office in two weeks because I have been traveling and I am so exhausted I don't know what to do. Which is a bummer because I like blogging and I don't want to lose the few readers I have!

The Jillian Show Goes On the Road

J and I went to Houston TX to visit with justsomeguy and bizarely and the rest of the crew down there. Here are some of the Jillian highlights:



- turning to person next to her on the plane, asking her name and then telling her that bizarely could give her a ride when we landed, if she needed one. Then looking for that person when we got off the plane.
- asking bizarley, sua sponte, if she is having a boy or a girl (we never even talked about how that is something you can know before having a baby)
- various princess games in which J was the princess, bizarley was always the evil queen, I was a dragon and justsomeguy and THC rotated as the prince.
- J telling bizarley that I get upset when she gets upset at stupid things such as ponytails, dresses, tights....
- Taking J for a big Tex-Mex lunch where she told her "jokes" and bizarley told her that she didn't have to eat if she didn't want to, to only get death stares from me and the other mom at the table. Oh so much to learn.
- J and E

- Jillian mingling at the baby shower, talking to people I didn't know, then asking bizarley if she could help with opening the presents.
- J being very good on the plane both ways and at the airport. Although when we landed in Houston and got off the plane, she said "Oh man, we are still in the airport!"


Now bring on the damn snowicane.

Insert "Snow + end of world" catch phrase here

This weekend it snowed in Philly. Like 28 inches. Second worst storm in Philly's history, the first one being in January 1996. I has the pleasure of being here for the 1996 storm because I was a freshman at Penn and even though it was winter break I was on campus for fencing practice. It was a rough scene, cheesesteaks were served on white bread and a bunch of fencing dorks were left with nothing but their own imaginations and bottles of 151.

This storm was decidedly different. There was no 151, it is 14 years later, I have a kid, and my parents decided to come down. Which reminds me, why can't they understand that used paper towels and napkins are NOT recyclable? I tell them ever time they are here but it is like they can't grasp the concept.

Anyway, I am rambling. I am using the last 10 minutes of peace I bought myself with an episode of Scooby Doo to write this, thus it is somewhat unplanned. I have alot to say but I am apparently unable to say it in an interesting or readable way. So here are a few haikus about what is going on.

The new job is fine
Some people are jerks, others nice
I'm still a lawyer.

I went on a date
Not much more to say on that
That says it all, no?

There is lots of snow
But I have dvr'ed shows
So I am all good.

Talent, or lack there of

I have a personal "bucket list" of things that I would like to do while I can. Since Katrina, one of those things has been to help out in a disaster in a meaningful way. To be clear - I do not want a disaster to happen, at all, to anyone. But immediately after Katrina, I visited bizarely in concrete city, along with justsomeguy and TFry. The trip had been planned for awhile, so we were basically all meeting up (as we tend to do about every 6-8 months) to booze, laugh, dance in windows and see if bizarely whipped out an outfit that makes us all ask if she was having a Chico's kind of day.*

But then there was Katrina. We all arrived in Houston the Friday before Labor Day, as did some of the first people bussed from New Orleans. So we all put down our mimosas that morning and went to volunteer at one of the arenas that was operating as a shelter.

Our basic task as volunteers was to sort donated clothes in preparation for the arrival of people to the arena. We were happy to do this task. We also did some other things, putting water on the cots, getting together toothbrushes, etc. The medical professionals set up their station, various social services were there too. There were also groups of people there NOT helping, but just taking pictures of themselves in front of the chaos, presumably for us in publications about how they "helped."

And then the first bus full of people came in. These poor people - some of them were caked in mud (and the hurricane had hit days before - and we all know about that), kids clinging onto their parents, you could tell that they had been through alot by the time they came up to get some used clothes and maybe a smile.

Obviously the focus of the day was not (and still is not) 4 twenty somethings with a butt load of education and paying jobs. At the same time, I couldn't help but wonder what it might have been like to really help. To be a doctor or nurse who saves someone's life, or a musician who can go on a telethon and raise millions (along with other famous people). I felt like I couldn't give more that what I did on that day** - a bottle of water and an encouraging look, even though I had no idea what the future held for those people. And cash, I could give money to assistance funds.

Now with the earthquake in Haiti, I feel kind of the same way. I can only give money. I would like to help more. I wish I had a skill to do so.

I will continue to do pro bono work locally, but the next time that something like Katrina or Haiti happens, I want to get on a plane and really help. Although I hope that I never achieve this goal because there isn't something like this in the future.


*To be fair, bizarely does not dress like she shops at Chico's, or at least was not doing so in September 2005. She didn't start that kind of stuff until October 2009 when she interpreted "Ninja" (it was Halloween in Vegas) to involve cropped pants and high heeled mary janes. It was a far cry from ninjas circa 2002, which involved us in pleather pants from Wal-Mart.
** Now I have the legal knowledge to assist with obtaining insurance coverage for those affected (if they had insurance, which opens a can of worms, because that limits who you can help). In 2005, I could have helped with someone who had their DRAM chip design misappropriated or something along those lines. I was still a very baby lawyer and didn't even know about insurance recovery.

First Day Rambles

For the first time since becoming a lawyer, I started a job and was excited. Ok, that is a lie. I was excited when I started my clerkship, but my last firm and my first day at the Philly office after transferring were not particularly exciting. Today, even though I sat through such thrilling things as "phone training" and "benefits," I was happy and ready to go. I think I made the right decision. I hope once I start really working that holds true.

I am not sure borrowing J's outfit from above was the best move though....

Tomorrow I have to go to a portrait studio to have my bio picture taken. They put up full length body shots of us, so I am NOT looking forward to it.

And I finally came up with some resolutions for 2010. They are to (1) use and enjoy things that are sunk costs, such as jacuzzi tub, piano, and pricey candles, (2) remember to bring the freakin' reusable grocery bags when I go shopping. I always forget and then buy new ones because Whole Foods employees judge you with their eyes, and (3) enjoy my kid, because she is pretty cool. And it doesn't matter if she is cool because I am a good mom or because nature is overcoming nurture. (and now for the rambling)

When J was 9 weeks old, we starting going to a mom and me group just so I had something to do and a reason to leave the house. The group leader was a nice, older woman who had raised two kids of her own. She told us that the first kid was awesome and everything a parent could want in a child. Then her second kid, was (and was still at the time) a nightmare. Obviously she loved him, but you could tell he put her through the ringer - drugs, booze, bad decisions in general, required a large amount of financial support, etc. She always said (to console the moms with OOC kids) that she thought she was a great mom with the first kid but was contradicted by how the second kid turned out. Her conclusion was that she hadn't done anything wrong in terms of raising the second kid, so she must not have done anything spectacular in raising the first.

My point is, since that time over three years ago, I have never once thought that J is great because of anything I did. If this sweet, motherly, SF bay area retired nurse with a penchant for clogs and "wacky" socks had a terror child and an awesome child then there was nothing I could really do to make J an easy kid or a hard one. And that is the honest truth. As much as people have said J is awesome, I never think "aw, yeah, that's because I rock as a mom."

In fact, I have an "adequate parenting rule" that I guess I have never shared. That is as long as my kid is clothed, fed, and warm and moving forward with education in some form 85% of the time, I am an adequate mother.

Today, I decided I am going to start taking a little credit for J being a good kid. Yeah, most of it is probably innate in terms of her nature, but that nature comes (in part) from me.