Important Lessons Learned on Inauguration Day

1. Just because the future President is walking out to be inaugurated doesn't mean a two year old won't spread Christmas ornaments all over the upstairs of your house.

2. Dogs are smarter than people, because when said two year old is running around the house screaming about how they just spread Christmas ornaments far and wide... the dogs hide.

3. Toddlers poop... whether or not Barack Obama is making a historical speech.

4. Wearing a ponytail for the first time makes you feel strangely perky, and therefore more interested in The Real Housewives of Orange County than the inauguration coverage. (Don't worry... only flipping during commercials as pink extensions counteract the danger of a perky ponytail).

5. While I am overwhelmed by the historical significance of the day... Mark still has the ability to make me gag over his opinion (see comments in case you can't understand this one). Glad to be alive??? BAAAAARRRRRFFFFF.

6. You can only get away with watching so much ABC before your toddler makes you switch it to Max and Ruby.

7. Even if you tell your toddler that the new President of the United States commanded that he be quiet while Jack is sleeping, the toddler will still scream in your face.

8. If you get distracted by the news coverage, your two year old will take that opportunity to spill his chocolate milk all over the homework table so that he can have a "mud puddle" for his trucks.

Today Is A Good Day

This is one of those days. One of those "I remember when" kinda moments. I am not of the Kennedy generation and I wasn't alive when man walked on the moon. I remember when the Challenger blew up. I was in first grade and all three classes squeezed into one room to watch the Challenger launch on TV. I remember that it blew up but we were so young, I am not sure we comprehended that it wasn't supposed to happen until I saw my teacher (whose name I don't remember, but face I won't forget) was crying. Only then did we have the understanding that something went wrong. I remember that I was listening to Good Morning America in my car when they announced that a plane hit the World Trade Center. Charlie Gibson was describing that they didn't know what happened when the second plane hit. I heard his reaction live on TV. I ran into my work and switched on the radio. I was transfixed for the day. A computer nerd (not the one I married) came into my office and laughed at the situation saying that there must be drunk pilots that morning. I don't fault him now, as no one could come close to understanding the full ramifications of what was happening. A terror attack like that was unimaginable at that time. There was no way to predict that the towers would fall killing so many innocent victims.

In my generation, there is nothing positive that has happened in that "I remember where I was when..." category. There are no victories, there are no great events like a moon walk. There is nothing that doesn't equal sadnessand tragedy... until today. I feel like this is that moment for us. I don't care what your politics are and you may be Sarah Palin's biggest fan. Today is not a day to worry about that. We can start on the armchair Presidenting tomorrow. Today is a day to celebrate the fact that an African American is being sworn in as President of the United States for the first time ever. The majority of United States citizens were able to put aside any sort of racial bias and say that Barack Obama is the best man for this job. They were able to ignore that the name was foreign... its not John, George or James.... we elected a man named Barack Hussein Obama not because of his lineage, bank account or the color of his skin... but because we as a people believed that this was the best man to lead our nation. That is an amazing thing, and every person in this country should sit back and take stock in what that means. We've come a long way, baby, and today, above all other days, I am proud to be an American.

Congratulations, Mr. President.

The Domestic Mafiosa

I am Italian on my Dad's side and while there is no mafia connection, I feel like I have the mentality. I am just a twin set away from being The Godfather, except I haven't seen that movie and am not too sure what being a Mafioso involves. But here's my point... I can hold a grudge against somebody for years. Not just years, FOREVER. You go against me, and you are dead to me. Sleeping with the fishes. Wearing cement shoes. Horse head in your bed, dead to me. See the mafia connection now?

Here's an example. When I worked at the division of the Dept. of Correction, my boss who I thought was a personal friend, ignored our friendship and accused me of something I didn't do. Mark worked there too, and he was transferred to a remote location and a new guy was brought in to do his job. Now I have this uncanny ability to separate work from personal life (another Mafia boss trait... must add to my resume when I apply to be the Godmother.) Girlfriend Lynn felt bad that Boyfriend Mark was now working in an actual prison (not a cushy office building) and that he had a longer commute to work. Employment & Benefits Supervisor Lynn said "good decision" for many reasons (which I will not get into because Husband Mark may not want to hear it and Wife Lynn doesn't feel like listening to Husband Mark's whining) and was totally open minded about the new dude. I did his New Employee Orientation and after was summoned to my boss's office where I got a butt chewing about how I made him so uncomfortable, how he felt like I put him on the hot seat as I grilled him about his qualifications, who hired him, etc. None of that happened. I made small talk and was polite, and my goal was to not let New Guy know that Replaced Guy was my boyfriend so as to not make life awkward. Apparently New Guy's Boss had already warned him about my evil boyfriend-defending ways and made our interaction totally awkward (not my fault) and New Guy went to my boss and made up a load of malarkey. I defended myself to the ground (which is another mafia trait... that's three now) and while we did move on from it, she never apologized for what she accused me of. Not even when he got terminated for rigging our company phone system to allow him to make international phone calls illegally or when she found out he lied about his debilitating (and often the cause of absences) impending divorce and when she found out he was lying about dating one of our co-workers. Signs pointed to him being a CHRONIC LIAR and I still haven't gotten an apology from her for immediately taking New Guy/Criminal/Chronic Liar Guy's side (totally ignoring the fact that she knew me and my reputation for 3 years prior to meeting him). Bitter, party of one!

So, I am sitting here this morning and I am angry about something that happened years ago. And that is not the only thing from the past that makes me mad. Don't even get me started on the 7th grade friends fiasco that I am still steamed about. If anything like that happens, I may interact with the person again, but I will keep it in the back of my mind until I die. I am a shrink's dream, what can I say. I reserve the right to throw the violation at someone if I feel they deserve it even years later. But more often than not, I never do because the situation isn't warranted. Even my example above. I never said anything to my boss after the day she accused me, even when we found out New Guy was such a loser. But, now its been years and I still have pent up irritation about it. So, I have come to the conclusion today that maybe the mafia people are right. Maybe if you leave a barnyard animal's head in someone's bed you get better closure than just sitting on it. Hmmm... now where can I find some horses???

Feminism is dead

My name is Lynn and I need a man. There, I said it. I am admitting to myself and the world that there are just some things I cannot (or more accurately... will not) do. I consider certain things men's work and while I feel women should be treated equally, paid equally and allowed to do equal things... I just don't want to participate in the last one. Is that wrong?

I feel adamant that a man should kill and remove any and all bugs/bug carcasses within the household and surrounding areas. I know that the spider the size of a Tic Tac can't hurt me. I know that it is no match for one of my size 11s coming down upon its body. But, I don't care. Its a man's job to kill that bug and it is my prerogative to get all "girly" and jump up and down and shriek like a tween at a Jonas Brothers concert. I realize that a woman can kill bugs and I applaud any woman that wants equal rights to do so... but I ain't that girl.

I feel that it is a man's job to take out the trash. I assume I took part in this ritual when I lived alone, but to be honest... it doesn't ring a bell. Perhaps I generated no trash until man entered my home. Either way, now that I live with a man, its his job. Trash is dirty, icky, heavy and requires distribution on curb at an insanely early hour of morn, and that just isn't my bag (no pun intended). I don't do dirty, I stay clear of icky (unless its housed within a diaper and then I am deeply entrenched in it on a regular basis) and the only heavy I feel obligated to partake in is Fat Jack. Don't even get me started on early. Anything early is man's work. ANYTHING.

Today, I encountered another item that will be housed in the "man's work" category. Propane heaters. That is man's work. We own a rental property (aka house that wouldn't sell so we rent it and flirt with letting it go foreclosure style if we can't unload it someday) and we have great renters. But, the power went out last night (thanks Mother Nature and your subzero temps... this bills for you!) and their water heater froze thusly they have no running water. The water company and Jeff the Wonder Fixer recommended using a propane heater to defrost the frozen water heater (it is just me or is that an oxymoron???). Mark is at work, and I don't need no stinkin' man for basic household fix its. So, Will and I go to Home Depot. (Technically, since Will was with me I did have the required amount of testosterone needed to enter that store). I rented my 40 million hundred BTU having heater and when Bryant the slightly amused by me Home Deport Tool Guru offered to carry the heater to my car I smirked at him. Pityingly, I said "Oh Bryant... I think I can manage." And with Will's hand in one of mine and the propane heater in the other, I walked out the door. I even sent a look of "Like I need a man's help" over my shoulder to make sure he saw that not only could I carry it, but I carried it with one hand. Lynn 1, Frozen Water Heater 0. I then went to the gas station to buy a propane tank. I walked in, I pretended to know what I was doing and confidently told Mr. Speedway Worker Man that I needed one propane tank... new, not an exchange. He rang me up ($50... propane must be exhaled by unicorns.... or imported from the war torn middle east.... either way that crap is pricey) and he gave me that "Ok lil' darlin'" drawl that is prevalent in Indiana though I have no idea why and said "Lemme get that fer ya'." No, Silly Hick Man... I can handle it. And again, I grabbed Will's hand and my full propane tank in the other hand and away I went. Score: Lynn 2, Frozen Water Heater 0. I then get to the rental house and realize that there is no plug. What? I hook the gas tank to the heater using a hose thingy? WHAT? There is no on/off switch? WHAT?? I need to read the directions on the propane heater thing and light some sort of pilot light without singeing the hair that I meticulously straightened this morning? WHAT??? There are steps and mechanical things and hook ups and gas and fire and quite honestly, my hair is just really flammable right now. I have the extensions and the dye and the pomade and hair spray and I am not going up like a Roman Candle just so my renters have water. Because, let's use our handy dandy logic right now... they can't hose me down when I become a human mushroom cloud. THERE'S NO WATER!!!!

So, needless to say the frozen water heater defeated me and that will from now on go on my list of man's work. Lynn 2 - Frozen Heater 1 million.

Sent to the principal's office

Yesterday Mark and I had a meeting with Tabbi's teacher, the school counselor and the Principal. Her behavior in class is not good, and what's worse is that she isn't even trying when it comes to the schoolwork. She took a standardized test and did phenomenal. But her actual schoolwork is crap. It doesn't add up, so the only answer is that she isn't trying. She is putting forth no effort whatsoever. So, Mark and I were summoned to a meeting to figure out how to get this girl working at the same level of her potential. To the Principal's office we went.

I was a nervous wreck. I don't think I ever went to the Principal's office at Herbert Hoover Elementary and I didn't want to start my visits now. I wanted them to think that we were not huge screw ups as parents. Neither of us know what we are doing, but I wanted to put forth the image of a competent parent. Trick them, if you will. I put thought into my outfit... did I want to look professional and intelligent or stay home mom caring and nurturing? Did I want to do my hair up and hide the pink, or let it down straight and look confident in my uniqueness? Did I want to go in guns blazing with my ideas or be patient, quiet and wait for them to lead me to the answers? I spent most of yesterday pondering what to do. I even gave Mark some last minute instructions. Don't be loud, don't be goofy, don't tell long stories that don't matter, sound smart... be quiet.... etc.

Dr. W, the Principal, threw out some great ideas and Mark and I did a superb job. I went with the "stay home mom, caring and nurturing" ensemble but paired it with pink hair down so that they could see that I was young and fun. We were calm, patient, let them lead the show interjecting only when necessary without accusing them of failing and hopefully convincing them that we weren't failures either. It went really well... we had them totally snowed into thinking that we were smart, caring and good parents. In the immortal words of Rick Moranis in Spaceballs "Ha! Fooled you!"

And then Mark spoke. Dr. W threw out there that Tabbi's focus issues might be a glycemic problem since it kicks in at about 1:45p every day. To that Mark said... "So we should have her eyes checked?" Really.

Wednesday What the?!?!?!

Today some weird things struck me... well... weird, so I thought I would do a post devoted to all things strange. There is no connection between the things, but they all made me stop and say... hmm.

#1. My socks from Hanes are fabulous. They are white cotton sweat socks and I wear them all the time. They fit perfectly and don't slide off my feet. I give them two big toes up. However, they come in a zip lock resealable bag. Why is that? When you take them out of the package, do some people put them back in and zip them shut for freshness? Hmmm.... And even more hmmm, noticing that they had an easy zip resealable opening, I tore a hole in the bottom of the bag. Why do I feel the need to ignore the easy open top and do things the hard way? Opening this package is a metaphor for my entire life. Hmmm.

#2. I saw a commercial for a March Madness car sale. Did I slip into a coma and wake up three months later or is it still January? Hmmm. Along those same lines... I watched a Beverly Hills, 90210 marathon on SoapNet Sunday (I know... sad, but true) and they deemed it their Valentine's Day marathon, complete with cartoon lipstick smooch marks everywhere. This was January 11th. Aren't we working just a little bit too far ahead??? Hmmm.

#3. What the hell are these things... I will tell you. Meishan piglets.And what I think is even more strange than these Meishan piglets in the Berlin Zoo, is that they have a striking resemblance to the inhabitants of the Washington DC zoo...

They have the same look of disgust and disdain for their audience. Hmmm.

#4. While we are on the subject of what the hell are these things... let's take a gander at this sucker. Ever wonder what a baby aardvark looks like? No wonder you don't hear of people having pet aardvarks! Hmmm.

#5. Lil' Kim. Really? That is all I have to say. Ok, no one gets off that easy. She is depicted in the biopic about the Notorious B.I.G. (a rapper that was killed in the East/West rap wars). Her quote is this: "The film studio and producers involved were more concerned about painting me as a 'character' to create a more interesting story line instead of a person with talent, self-respect and who was able to achieve her own career success through hard work." Self-respect? Really????

That definitely looks like a woman who is famous for her talent. Almost like the bikini chick on American Idol was put through last night for her voice. Riiiiiight!!! Hmmm.

#6. I couldn't decide if this was a joke or not, but I saw it on the Good Morning, Indiana news this morning. Apparently Helio Castroneves is being replaced as a driver on his Penkse team (due to that pesky federal trial) and is being replaced by a man named Will Power. Is this racing or professional wrestling, because with a name like that its hard to tell! Thinking about changing my son Will's name to No Will Power Clinton in honor of the ice cream I indulged in after a miserable day. Hmmm.

Adoption's not an option

My family and I have decided to add another dog to the insane asylum that is our home. We currently have five humans and one fur person (Bentley the Beagle). Apparently, that is not enough for us. I thought it was, but then we had the opportunity to take in a Golden Retriever whose owner's child became allergic, but it didn't work out. So, now of course, we have our hearts set on a new dog. Bentley's all fine and good, but he won't let Will pet him. KC used to be our go-to guy for kid/dog love, but he's in the dog park in the sky so we are out of luck. So, off to adopt a dog we go! But, there's a catch. I have come to the realization that I could adopt an Ethiopian child sooner than I can qualify for a dog from one of the many fine rescue dog organizations. And my answer to that is... what the hell???

Bentley Woofsa (his full name) came from a rescue group and to be honest (no offense to anyone whose opinions differ from mine... you're just wrong) I only support getting dogs from the Humane Societies or rescue groups. I don't believe in getting dogs from breeders. There are just too many lovely dogs out there in need of a home to promote breeders who just keep increasing the pet population and often use reckless inbreeding that increases breed deformities and medical issues. Plus, even if you're a purebred dog snob, there is a rescue for every breed (even those designer breeds that aren't recognized like my desired labradoodle). So, in order to find my family's perfect new addition, I've been surfing the net. I am obsessed with the website petfinder.com. That is where I found dear old Bentley and I love it. But, yesterday I applied for a dog and I have been REJECTED! I'm sorry, is this a dog application or did I ask someone to the Sweetheart's Sadie Hawkins formal? I haven't been rejected for anything (except maybe a credit card) since high school.

The pet people at the rescue said that they were not comfortable giving the dog to a home with small children since Swiffer (how cute is that!!!) hadn't been exposed to small children yet. I can kinda get that, except their whole website promoted the breed as "perfect pets for children and families." So, uh... false advertising or what? No Clio in your future, Mr. Rescue Guy! My friend Laura the Famous also was rejected at least once from a rescue group, their reason being that she lived on a farm and the dog might be eaten by coyotes. Again... I can kinda get there... especially if there was a coyote problem on Laura's farm...but there isn't. These were inside dogs and Laura doesn't raise coyotes on her farm and not a single chicken has been snared by these vicious coyotes... so are they only dog eaters or are we being just a hair too picky??? The potential that a coyote (which aren't really around and have never caused a problem before) might come on to the property at the same time the dog happens to be outside on a leash with Laura or her husband and the humans might get so distracted by the sunset or a bird or something shiny that they will see approaching coyotes but simply ignore it until said coyotes steal the small dog away was too great to warrant giving them a dog. Huh wha???

I find it interesting that any idiot can get knocked up and have 500 kids whether or not they deserve them, and I could go to a breeder and buy 60 labradoodles and not have to prove that I even have a home. We could just load them into my Hyundai and eat them for dinner and no one would know. But, these rescue groups are so picky I had to draw up a last will and testament to verify who gets my doodle if I die. Uh, I dunno... the four other people that live in my house? I had Jack and no one asked for financial proof that I could afford him. I didn't need to provide references that could speak to my past experience as a human raiser and I didn't have to document where he will stay if I croak or go on a vacay. But, if I want a 3 year old labradoodle that was abandoned by some yayhoo who thought a dog was a possession and not a member of their family... that I cannot do. Unfortunately I fear that these picky rescue groups, (while they have the dogs' best interest at heart) are going to drive people to breeders because they can't qualify to be a rescuer. Maybe instead we should put these groups in charge of human population control and maybe then the 10 month old girl who was beaten to a pulp by her mom's boyfriend wouldn't have to be in that situation. Mommy Crackhead would not have been approved for pregnancy. Then we would have less children suffering and more dogs living the good life with me. I am emailing my plan to Obama as we speak, but then again, I bet he doesn't get turned down by the doodle rescue, so the brilliance might be lost on him!