Family Pet

The promise of a pet is a grave and serious thing.

I had no clue I became glued to every syllable of every word every time I speak as a parent. For instance, I cannot mention things off-handedly anymore; no commenting on potential activities and certainly no guilt-free wiggle room once these words have been emitted.

Pumpkin's so sure about everything I say; it's as though it's already been done. I can see the nuance of flakiness and doubt start to creep into her world. The words: possibly, maybe, we'll see, if-then, probably, may, might, could, should, would all bring a less than forthright demention into her understanding. Everything's so absolute to her, it either exists or doesn't. This could also explain why I'm about to spend nearly $100 on gear for a fish that will probably survive less than a week. Don't forget the cleaning and the smell and emotional attachment all wrapped up into one sickly little hypo-allergenic pet. This thing doesn't even stand a chance with all the excitement and stress that will ensue.

I'll be darned if I don't give it the old college try, however.

Temper Tantrums

Whichever child invented these deserves to be stricken from all refined sugars and processed foods. Between "3 is the new 2" and "baby girl is a BIG girl," temper tantrums arose. I well understand Pumpkin's need to assert her own autonomy. However, all mothers, especially at home moms, deserve a get out of tantrum free card every 3 months which can only be redeemed with Haagen-Dazs present, a marathon of all new Grays Anatomy episodes and a facebook inbox brimming with fun and interesting messages. This scenario is, of course, one pedicure short of a Festivus miracle. There has to be another way.

At first, we tried the stairs. Even poor little Osbert had to take time outs for "unaseptable" behavior, but the stairs quickly became a play place, sliding down them like a ride, and less of a punishment. Sometimes Pumpkin wouldn't get up even though she could because she was having such a blast. Sean and I then decided to modulate the approach.

We tried the time out stool in the middle of the hallway: she fell backwards literally rocking it out as entertainment for her 3 long minutes and banged her head. We put it near a wall: she fell backwards between the stool and the wall. We put it against the wall: she banged her head against the wall in angst. Elminate stool. Tomorrow comes the welcome mat carpet square revolution. We'll see if this new tool will fascinate long enough to alleviate the brunt of Little Miss La Resistance. If not, I plan to personally call Super Nanny and inform her this technique broke at our house. Then I will insist she absolutely MUST visit in her zippy, square English car with a portable DVD video clip of Pumpkin bonking her sweet little noggin during time out. My fingers remain crossed.

Unemployment Roller Coaster

Sean became laid off officially this past April and I'll admit it: strangely, I felt relief! Like I was holding it for an inhumane length of time to avoid peeing at the seedy, lone Micky D's on a long drive home and made it in the nick of time.

Ok, so the relief took awhile to work towards, but I got there eventually mainly because I didn't have to dread whether or not he could lose his job. First, however, I freaked the deuce out, per usual. I am a big worrier, as if I can control anything with my worrying. I get it, I just don't care that people have a different opinion of worry than me. Truthfully, I believe if I don't worry, the worst will happen to me. I have yet to play devil's advocate with that theory and get over it, Sean has yet to fold laundry 2 consecutive days in a row -to each his own.

The laid-off downside: initial dread overcame me and I immediately went into action. I called the pharmacy to make sure we used our soon-to-be-non-existent FSA account to pay for all the refills we needed. I changed our cable package to bare bones. I made sure Pumpkin had caught up on all her immunizations. After all that, I filed paperwork to go into forebearance on my student loans for a couple of months. I had already prepared for bare bones 2 months prior by scaling way back on our cell minutes and reducing our cable package which led to my eventual role as "lights off" nazi.

We already spend close to no money on things outside of bills, groceries and prescriptions -the essentials, but we constantly juggled choosing to save or continue paying down debt. I'd done so well paying it down, and then the interest rate immediately rose to nearly 34% on one of my credit cards. The other card I paid down for the last 18 months increased the interest rate AND cut $1K from my credit line as a "thank you" for not missing a single payment in the 5+ years I had the two cards. Brutal. Both credit card practices will be illegal by July of 2010, but for now, I have to take it as it comes just like everyone else. What else can I do except pull myself up from my own bootstraps?

Sean's response: total deer in headlights. I think he froze in shock and awe for 8.2 continuous days. Literally. He just stood there in the middle of the kitchen like a zombie. Meanwhile, the mover and the shaker over here prepared the hull for impact of the onslaught of bills for the next who knows how long? Strangely enough, our fight/flight responses to the unemployment news became the opposite of how we normally respond to conflict. I like to talk about how I feel, need space to feel it, need validation in order to progress. Sean, like every other guy out there, wants to fix it. If a problem exists, he's drummed up an action plan to solve it or has a quick fix brewing on the backburner...except when Super Snafu time arrives, like now, in which case I fill in as the pinch hitter.

The lay-off upside: I'm not waiting for the other shoe to drop at a moment's notice. We can officially move forward to some goal or progression instead of holding our breath, putting in extra hours at work away from the house and taking pay cuts lying down.

The attitude change really came when I accepted three things: 1) I can't control the economy and an employer's decision make lay offs, 2) Sean & I always did our best, worked our hardest and will continue to do so, and 3) God takes care of His own. That doesn't mean we didn't make difficult decisions in order to ensure a healthy and safe place for Pumpkin to live, but the outreaching of friends and co-workers made all the difference.

Instead of the dog eat dog mentality I expected from the dire economic situation nearly everyone has experienced, I received more support and unashamed understanding from the folks that reached back when we reached out.

I think part of that has to do with the quality of people in our lives right now. Sean and I endured some difficult, even catastrophic life events in the last couple of years. Consequently, our circle of friends reflects each difficulty by getting smaller and smaller to include only those who truly made an effort to maintain the friendship and offer support. Maybe it's that, maybe it's people coming together in general.