Putting the "Fun" in Dysfunctional

An acquaintance recently commented that she thought my child would certainly be "screwed up" as a result of my "dysfunctional" family.  It may have something to do with the fact that I couldn't care less what this obnoxious person thinks, but I find her comment to be hilarious.

Don't get me wrong--she's not mistaken when it comes to describing my family as "off."  There are aspects of it that are...non-traditional...to say the least.  For example, my parents are divorced, but are still the best of friends and to this day have the greatest marriage I have ever seen.  By further example, as you know I am a broke, single, parent.  Not exactly screaming "success" here.  And by further example, my grandmother (my child's great-grandmother) has never seen my kid.  Not for any particular reason other than she hasn't been bothered.  As I said, not exactly what the experts call "normal."  And finally, I consider my friends--those in Chicago, those here, and those scattered about the country--to be my family, end of story.  They are my loved ones no matter where I am or where they are or what insane things either of us does.  Extended, wonderful, zany, but not typical.

But here is the thing.  On the whole, we are a success story.  Both of my parents love me and love my kid, without question and without reservation.  My friends and other family members make an incredible extension of this love and fill in any "gaps" our hearts may need.  And I worship my kid and would (clearly) do anything in the world to make him happy.  And although things have been extremely difficult lately, and although we have lost family members due to life and to death, we are overall so incredibly blessed it's scary.  And we laugh.  Even when mocking stupid people (well, particularly when mocking stupid people), we laugh.  So I guess call us whatever you would like.  I wouldn't trade my dysfunctional family for the world.  And I'll take my chances on screwing up my kid.  Because, trust me, I'll have plenty of chances for that, without involving the rest of my family.

THAT kid

Several weeks ago I sat in Costco with Grandma and my son.  We had just finished a marathon dry goods run (you know--where you purchase such necessities as 12 pounds of brownie mix) and had decided to partake of the Costco food court.  First, may I say, it was rather tasty.  Very tasty, actually, much to my surprise.  Grandma had the hot dog and I ordered (what else) the pepperoni pizza.  As I was devouring my tasty meal (did I mention it was tasty?), I would occasionally give my kid bites of the cheese or occasionally the crust.  I did avoid the pepperoni, as I am still changing diapers and that just didn't sound like fun.  Anyway, the point is that my kid and I were enjoying the pizza.

So as I looked over to the table next to us, it suddenly hit me that I am a horrible parent.  There was a woman there with two little kids.  The older of the two was sitting quietly, eating his preservative-free bologna on whole wheat that she had pulled out of his personalized lunchbox.  The younger was just starting to eat his homemade pureed eggplant.  As she spooned the healthy mush into his mouth, she noticed me staring and smiled.  "How old is your son?" she asked.  I quickly closed my mouth and told her just under a year.  She smiled larger "Oh, Georgie is just turning one this week!"  I stared again at the child who was dutifully eating up the veggies and then looked down at my own kid who was covered in pizza sauce and grinning from ear to ear.  I looked back at the Talbot's-clothed mom and again at my jeans which were covered, I think, in last-week's pudding.  I felt awful.  Before he was even one, he had turned into that kid.  You know--the one who smokes behind the school at 8 because his mother isn't paying attention.  The one who wears clothes just a bit last season and whose hair is a bit too long to be fashionable.  The kid who watches copious amounts of TV and drinks nothing but Mountain Dew.  The single parent's kid.

To put it mildly, now that we are in a new place, I have actually pulled out my Beaba baby food maker and have determined that my child will eat nothing but organic produce.  I haven't actually used it, mind you.  And maybe I'm overreacting.  Maybe it's not predetermined that my kid will be that kid.  But I am determined to stop the tides, just in case.  Now excuse me while I buy my kid and his friends some Keystone Light.

I Hate Country Music

I hate country music.  Ok, this statement isn't entirely correct.  I generally have liked country music in the past.  In fact, when I was in Chicago I used to occasionally listen to the country stations as they gave me a piece of comfort.  Both the "down-home" lyrics and the tunes reminded me of my family here in Montana and it was a nice reminder of calmer times.

Yeah, well, now that things are very calm (with some notable exceptions, of course), I am singing a different tune.  Or I would like to be, at least.  There are exactly 3 choices in musical genres on the radio stations here.  First is, shockingly, country.  Second is gospel.  Third is 80s hard rock.  While the hard rock is tempting and makes me smile simply because it's the same stuff that was on the radio the last time I lived here, more than 30 seconds of the stuff and you want to ram your car into Taco John's while wearing an Axl Rose bandana.  Gospel makes me feel bad about myself and life choices, so that leaves country.  Which was fine for the first day or two.  But now?  I don't care if my dog ran off with my tractor or whether he's gonna love her like it's yesterday's tomorrow.  At all.  If I hear Taylor Swift one more time, I am going to lure her into a hut where she can spend eternity with The Wiggles and whatever that animal sidekick of Dora the Explorer is.  The worst part?  I can't even get WGN radio in the car, meaning no Cubs games (though it was hard to listen without you, Ronnie).  To say it mildly, the situation is dire.

So what's a girl to do?  Well, sadly, the best solution with which I have come up is to listen to the Disney's Greatest Hits.  Over and over again.  If you need to know a lyric from the third stanza of "Be Our Guest," be my guest and ask.  I know it.  And you may be interested to know that there is a beautiful instrumental from the second half of Pocahontas.  Just saying.

If anyone out there has another solution, I'm dying to hear it.  Please.  Until then, you can find me under the sea.  Because it's a small world, after all.  And until then, Hakuna Matatta.

The New Face of Unemployment

Obviously, the state of the U.S. (and World, actually) economy has been the subject of headlines for years now.  I remember the shock, then the resignation, as field after field of employment started taking hits and jobs everywhere were cut.  I will fully admit, I was completely blown away when it hit law firms, particularly large law firms.  Both staff and attorneys had previously felt at least somewhat secure in their choice of employment--most considered their positions to be careers.  But starting a few years ago, that security went out the window.

None of this, however, is news.  What surprises me is that it seems to still be going on.  Sure, there aren't the mass-layoffs that made the news.  But now things are much more covert.  And now that I think about it, the remnants of careers are everywhere.  For example, I have a friend who (wait for it...) is a lawyer in Chicago.  She has been without a job for over a year now.  And she commented the other day that her application to be a checker at Target was rejected.  Sure, she had some personal issues that contributed, but who hasn't?  Also, I'm not the only graduate of my high school who has found him/herslef back home.  A guy who was a stock broker in LA is now working for his dad here in Montana.  Another friend who was in accounting in Seattle is here and looking for a job.  People everywhere are finding themselves re-evaluating what how they once viewed their careers (and, subsequently, their lives).  Even those senior enough to have relatively secure jobs are finding themselves with far less pay than they were making a few years ago.  I know-many of you are saying "poor rich people."  But when you live in a city in which decent (we're talking being relatively sure your 1 year old won't come home selling crack) child care is no less than (not exaggerating here) $30,000 per year, things tend to add up.

As I mentioned when I started this rant, the situation is awful but it also sort of makes me feel better (because it is, after all, about me).  Seriously, though, I can attest to how much watching a career you fought for years for, and paid a small fortune to obtain, go down in flames can suck.  I know the complete, paralyzing fear of wondering how you're going to support your child.  And I know the embarrassment of answering the question "so what are you doing these days" with "not much."  But you're not alone.  In fact, I can't say I know of more than 4 people who haven't had to deal with it on some level in recent years.  And the rest of us are all getting by.  The guy working for his dad has the business making more than it ever has.  A friend who felt the big-firm axe is now owner of her own, very successful firm.  And I have a friend who even chucked it all and headed out into the world to see what is there.  And those of us still putting together the pieces are figuring things out and still eating far more than we should be.  And that's sort of freeing, really.  I repeat--you're not alone.  So hold your head up high, think outside of the box, and see what comes your way. 

I'll get to work on living by that advice, just as soon as I pay this law school loan....

For Sue

Today I am not going to be complaining about where I am or what I am doing or the general state of the world.  We can resume that tomorrow.  Today I would like to talk about an extraordinary woman who we recently lost.

Sue was my mom's best friend since they were kids.  As fate would have it, Sue gave birth to a beautiful girl just a few months before I was born, and together we all formed a very extended, sometimes very crazy family.  Sue was a single mom and today, as another single mom, the elegance and calm with which she conducted her daily life still amazes me.  She was sweet, she was kind, she was funny and there was nothing in the world that she wouldn't do for her family, particularly her daughter.  In January 2009 Sue was diagnosed with breast cancer.  It was a change from which she would never recover.  And now that she is gone, we will always have a missing piece in our hearts.

Other than talking about this magnificent woman, I don't really have a point except to say that this life thing is hard.  There are good days and there are plenty of bad days.  But if we go through it with even an ounce of the kindness that Sue possessed, we will do her memory and ourselves a world of good.  It's cliche, but love your friends and family with all that you have because the rest simply doesn't matter.