Last night we visited with Aaron’s dad and stepmom, who had just come back from a trip to Israel. On the way to their house, Aaron asked me to stop and get some sodas.

Now, Aaron’s parents live in the inner-city of Columbus. Stop laughing, we really do have an inner-city. It’s certainly no Detroit, but this neighborhood has a high crime rate and you can still see the prostitutes walking the streets at dusk. It’s also still primarily a minority neighborhood, although it is currently undergoing a “revitalization” where people are buying these large Victorian houses and restoring them to their former glory. Aaron’s parents were some of the first to start this, years ago. Aaron would love to eventually move back to that neighborhood, but he’s getting a lot of resistance from me, the small-town girl.

When I stopped at the gas station near their house last night, I was reminded why I’m not ready to move there yet. I grabbed a few sodas and got in line to pay for them. A minute or so later, when there was only one man in front of me, a short, round African-American woman walked up next to me and looked me up and down with a gruff look on her face. Then, she stepped ahead of me in line, muttering something involving the word “white…” I didn’t hear the second word, so I have no idea what she referred to me as, other than white.

I was so shocked I didn’t say anything as she put her Combos on the counter to pay for them. I glanced around and realized I was the only white person in the store. I hadn’t even noticed until this woman made race such an issue. Why did she cut in front of me? Why did she think I was less of a person than her?

Even though I have a racist father (who I wasn’t raised by, thank goodness!), I’ve never thought much about the color of a person’s skin. Sure, I’m white as a ghost, but I certainly don’t think that makes me different somehow, other than needing to be in the sun less than others. Truthfully, I envy those who can stay in the sun longer! What the hell is up with people thinking skin color has anything to do with you as a person? We’re all people, right?

If I’m going to judge anyone, I do it based on what comes out of their mouth, not by what they look like. And I’m certainly not referring to what language or dialect a person speaks, either. I do categorize people based on whether I think they can rub two brain cells together and create a spark. (And I’m talking about a person’s intelligence, not education, which are two different things entirely.) Even then, I still think we all deserve to be treated with respect.

Racism is silly to me. Should I ever think I’m better than someone because of my race, I only need to think back to the history of my people: “Irish need not apply.”

To end this rant, I want to thank the other African-American lady I met yesterday as we were leaving Aaron’s parent’s house. I was still feeling hurt and stunned by the woman at the gas station, when this lady with a large smile walked by, took one look at Cordy and said, “Look at that beautiful baby! You are so blessed!” She stopped and we chatted for a minute about babies and laughed about Cordy’s temper while we put Cordy in the car. And I left thinking, “Maybe someday we can consider moving here.”

And, for those who wanted to see the JC Penney pictures, here are the good ones. Yes, I did send a complaint letter about the horrible service we had with them.

I think I need a weekend to recover from my weekend.

First, let me apologize to all my bloggy friends. The past week or so I’ve been horrible in keeping up with everyone’s blogs. Hopefully things will calm down and you’ll be seeing my smiling face on your comment section soon! (And if not, know I’m still there, reading the blog. I just don’t always have time to comment.)

It was a great few days, but now I’m totally exhausted. On Saturday Aaron had to be in Cincinnati for his final rehearsals for his stage combat class test. So Cordy and I went to the Festival Latino downtown for the morning. An entire festival that would have made some Republicans stammer and shake their fists at all the Spanish being spoken (and every social service booth that was there had materials in Spanish! as well as English). I only wish my Spanish-speaking abilities weren’t so rusty – I was a good student in school, but have forgotten a large amount over the years.

After that, we met up with Aaron in my hometown for dinner with my family to celebrate birthdays. Our family has three birthdays close together: Aaron’s on June 12, my mom’s on June 20, and mine on June 21. We had cake and cookies and opened gifts. The Aunt Dot crazy gift of the day this time was a cheap plastic hand-held fan (including two lone batteries in an already opened pack of 8), that she promptly broke when trying to put the batteries in it for us. My other relatives all pitched in to pay for three months of a YMCA membership for us, which was what I really wanted.

And, of course, as we left, we noticed the now-flat tire on the car. So we took our other car home. Aaron dropped me off again in the morning to get a new tire for the car since he was on his way to Cincinnati again for the actual stage combat test.

So Sunday started with driving a flat to the shop to get new tires. My mom came along with me to keep Cordy entertained. After that, it was an hour and a half drive to Oxford, OH, where we attended a birthday party. The guest of honor just turned 4 years old, and his parents are very good friends of ours – practically like siblings to us.

At the party, they had a pool set up. Last year, we tried to get Cordy into the pool, but she was terrified of the water. This year? Not so much.

Cordy actually allowed other children to dump water on her head! When the first cup of water was poured on her, I grabbed a towel and expected a shrieking toddler to come flying at me. But instead, she spit the water out of her mouth, shook her head, and laughed! I caught this on video, too, and will show her this video every time she throws a fit in the bathtub when it’s time to rinse her hair. No more fooling mama into thinking you’re being tortured with water on your head!

After the party, it was time for (yet another) long drive to Cincinnati. Aaron was finishing up his stage combat test, and we wanted to be there to support him. I dressed Cordy in her Father’s Day shirt:

Aaron loved seeing her in the shirt. And we had a reason to celebrate – he passed all of the weapons he tested for! A big party was held at his teacher’s house, and all the students and friends gathered there. Luckily, his teacher has children, so there were plenty of toys for Cordy to play with while we chatted with friends, grilled out and drank.

I forgot that I no longer have the alcohol tolerance I once had. A glass of wine, a Strongbow hard cider, a small sip of sparkling wine, and a shot of Captain Morgan’s private stock is too much for me now. In the past, it would have been an “appetizer”, but that selection of beverages left me rather tipsy. Apparently I passed all of my Irish blood on to my daughter and left none for myself. Once I was fit for the road again, we packed up Cordy, and I left for Columbus.

***************

One last call for entries for my contest! I will accept entries up until 2pm Eastern time on June 21. I’m looking for a new tagline, a new logo, or a t-shirt design.

Some entries so far include:

mothergoosemouse – “This ain’t no show on TLC – this is Real Life!”

Sandra – A lovely design that can be found here.

Mrs.Fortune – This woman is on a roll (and oh so pun-ny): “Happily Never After” “Nappy Ever After” “It was the breast of times, it was the worst of times” “A mom, a plan, a canal, baby girl”

Her Bad Mother – She didn’t give me a specific entry, but there is much that could be done with this statement about Cordelia: “if any child has the power to match the imperially ambitious WonderBaby, it is this warrior child.” Amazon warrior princess, anyone?

So please keep the ideas flowing! Yes, I fully admit I’m being lazy and not hiring someone to create a new logo or sitting down and thinking of my own fabulous tagline. But I’m broke, and I know I have a group of brilliant mommy (and a daddy or two) readers, so why not put our heads together, right?

I was raised by a divorced mom, with little involvement from my father. I saw him at major holidays – Christmas, Easter, birthday, etc. – but other than that he chose not to use his option for every other weekend visitation.

So when I was pregnant with Cordy I was a little nervous about how Aaron and I would parent her. I had been raised entirely by women, and I had never had a positive father-figure in my life. I didn’t know what to expect from Aaron, and I actually worried that I might not let him have a hand in the daily care of our child. I had a wonderful role model in my mother, and I was prepared to do anything for my child, just like she did for me.

Luckily, Aaron also had a strong role model in his father. His parents had separated when he was young, and then his mom moved away to Arizona. His father was left with the tremendous task of raising his two boys on his own. Aaron tells lovely tales of the three of them hanging out together, and how he could turn to his dad for anything. So Aaron had some examples of being a good father.

Today, I can say that I wouldn’t be able to do it without Aaron. He is a great daddy to Cordy. Being the early bird, he gets up with Cordy in the morning, they have breakfast together and they share a little daddy-daughter time together. In the evening, he is usually the one putting her to bed, giving her milk before bedtime, and then recounting her day in a soft voice as he carries her up to her crib. It’s a very relaxing routine for her.

When Cordy was born, Aaron was very adamant about being an involved father. Overnight feedings were handled by both of us – he would change her diaper and I would feed her. Of course, that was before we realized we were being stupid by having both of us get up with her instead of taking turns. During the day, he would carry her around in the sling, despite the strange looks from others. Real men wear slings, baby.

Aaron does have a busy schedule, which limits his time with Cordy, but that doesn’t mean he likes to be away from her. When we had to decide which of us was going to quit our full-time job and go to part-time to spend more time with Cordy, I thought we might come to blows over it. But Aaron saw how much I wanted to be home with our daughter, and he made that sacrifice to keep working full time. (In retrospect, he’s admitted that it was probably the best choice, as being with her all day on his own really wears him out. He now understands why I nap when she naps.)

His full time job is not just a sacrifice in time, but also in dreams. Along with his full-time job, which is really just a day job, he’s an actor, director, and stage combat choreographer pursuing a career in theatre. This means there are months where he’s involved with a show and gone from home many evenings and weekends. But even though he could easily be involved with one show or another year round, he takes breaks to make sure he gets time to spend with Cordy and me.

However, Aaron’s theatre career is also held back by his day job. He can’t do as much because he is limited by vacation days and the 8-5 grind. We need his health insurance benefits, though, and he provides them by working in a job that doesn’t interest him all that much. (Although the new job he will hopefully be getting will be more interesting, at least!)

Not only does he sacrifice his time with theatre, work in a day job to provide benefits, and still manages to create heartwarming rituals with our daughter, he also occasionally cooks, does the dishes and other chores. He joins us for outings when he can, and we often will meet for lunch on my days off, just to find a little more time together.

I love seeing Cordy playing with her daddy. She squeals and laughs when he picks her up and tosses her around. She runs away from him giggling when he pretends to be a monster and chases her with a large “Rawwwwrrr!”, only to run right back to him when he stops. And each day when he has to leave for work, he kneels down and holds out his arms, and she runs to him to give him a big hug and say “bye-bye”.

I do consider myself lucky to have Aaron as Cordy’s father and as my husband. Yes, he’s not perfect by any means, but neither am I. And while there are always things I think he could do better, I am amazed by the bond he has with Cordy. She adores her daddy, and he does a lot to make sure that adoration will remain. Well, at least until she’s a teenager.

So, happy Father’s Day dear. I love you.

Dear Karma,

Got a minute? I think we need to have a talk. I’ve been hesitant to confront you about this because, well, you have a lot of power over my little life. But I honestly need some answers.

The check engine lights appearing on both cars at the same time was harsh, especially since you know we’re strapped for cash at the moment. Having the air conditioning go out on my car was expected, but I didn’t see that you were going to make sure it was a leak and therefore lose the A/C again after I paid to have it fixed. That sucked.

Staying on the topic of cars, it also was a little underhanded of you to give Aaron a flat tire a month ago, and then another flat tonight while we were out of town with family. You knew we used the spare on the first flat and didn’t have the time or money to get new tires. So tonight we had to leave the car with the air conditioning 45 minutes away from home, and take the one with no air conditioning home in 90 degree heat with a cranky toddler, only to return there in the morning to have the car towed and get new tires.

We’re also a little tired of being jerked around about the possibility of Aaron’s new job. He’s jumped through hoop after hoop, like you wanted. Isn’t it time for a little payout now? We’re hoping to hear he got the job this coming week, so please don’t disappoint.

Springing a few unexpected bills on us hasn’t been deserved, either. And after I was so proud of myself for completing my first knitting project, you had to make it personal by having the knit bag felt too much in the washer and now be the size of a child’s purse.

You see, Karma baby, I know what people say about you. They say you’re a bitch, they say you’re cruel. I’ve always stood up for you, though. I believed in your justice, cautioned others to not tempt you, and reminded everyone that the karma bus travels in circles.

Apparently your current bus route is very long and winding, because we’re waiting patiently at the stop, avoiding the street so we won’t be hit. Your new driver seems to be driving on the sidewalk, though, and we’re a bit put off by that.

I know you have a lot of universal energy to work with, and sometimes the flow isn’t balanced or fair. But come on, we’ve been enduring all you have thrown at us for some time now. Don’t get me wrong, I am aware things could be so, so, so much worse. There are people in far worse conditions than us, and I am thankful we have what we have. However, it’s becoming evident we’re on your bad side at the moment – some might even say, unlucky.

We’re generally good people. I am a strong believer that doing good will bring good back to you. I care for stray kittens, I donate to charities, I hold doors for others, I say please and thank you. Even though I wasn’t so good about it in the past, I make every effort to be upbeat and friendly to everyone I meet. Oh sure, I occasionally flip off someone in traffic, or make a snarky comment to someone, but I swear they deserved it. I was just helping you out, really.

So please, Karma, isn’t it about time for an upswing for us? Or could you at least give us some clue as to what we did to piss you off? What kind of reparations need to be made to put us on good terms again?

Dude, I’m turning 30 in just a few days. Let’s not let the next decade start on a bad note, shall we? Thanks.

Sincerely,
Christina & fam.

I don’t mind the occasionally delay or slightly off customer service. But truly bad customer service really gets on my nerves. And today I got to delve into the dark, dusty, evil world of portrait studios. More specifically: JC Penney portrait studio.

In the past, we’ve taken Cordy to Sears for pictures. We had fancy pictures done once, and were quite happy with them, but unwilling to pay over a hundred dollars again for pictures. So Sears it is. They’re generally inexpensive, and the one near us usually has excellent photographers who are patient and creative with our stubborn child. Plus, in the past few years they’ve made some enormous improvements to their backgrounds and props. No longer are you limited to the light blue with wispy clouds or the mottled brown background. Now they use plain white gauze, solid black, and props that weren’t first used in the 70’s. (Although now they could be considered vintage, I guess.)

But Sears has been stingy with the coupons lately, and JC Penney had a good coupon, so we tried them today. Free 8×10, free sitting fee, and $3.99 portrait sheets. Bingo!

We arrived there at 11:45 and decided to make an appt. for 1:30. They advised that those with appts. go first if there’s a crowd, so we thought it best to eat lunch, then come back. I had an interview at 12:30, and hoped to be back with Aaron and Cordy by 1:30. We had other plans for the day as well, so we figured it would be a quick session, a few cute pics, and then be on our way.

I left after lunch, and Aaron ran Cordy in the mall play area for awhile. I called when my interview was over (about 1:45), and he said they were still waiting. It seems having an appointment doesn’t guarantee quick service. He was trying to keep her entertained, or well, at least trying to keep her contained in the waiting area.

When I arrived a little after 2pm, they had just gone into the photography room. I peeked in to see the photographer sitting on the floor with her camera, and Aaron trying to convince Cordelia to sit down. Apparently JC Penney can’t handle taking pictures of toddlers who stand up. However, the photographer was also lacking in creativity – you know, the one trait a good photographer should possess. Because not only did she want Cordy to sit down, she wanted her to sit on a small red spot on the floor! If Cordy wasn’t in the general area of the magic red spot, she would not even attempt a picture.

The problem with this is that mommy was on one side, daddy on the other, and the red spot was on neither side. She would run back and forth between Aaron and I in her version of a hugging game. If we tried to get her to sit on the spot, she jumped up right away and ran to one of us. There were several times she was standing still in the vicinity of the damn spot, but the photographer said Cordy needed to be sitting down.

(Side note: I should have known Cordelia was smarter than this photographer and just wanted out of there. She banged her forehead on the floor twice while we tried to convince her to accept the spot, causing two large red bumps on her forehead. It’s like she knew this was a failed attempt before we started and was trying to save us what was to come.)

Our so-called photographer had no ideas to help with the situation. Finally, I got up and grabbed some props to attempt to lure Cordy to sit down and examine them. It worked for a few snaps of the camera. I kept waiting for the photographer to suggest something new, now that we had a few shots of her sitting, but nothing came from her. No background switches. No different poses. Just, “Can you sit on the red spot, please?”

At the end, Aaron and I moved in closer and held her in place for a few pictures. It was the only way for it to work, and after all, we didn’t have any family pictures.

Afterwards, I expected to view our pictures, like we do at Sears. Instead, we were told “Come back in about a half hour to view them.” Aaron and I looked at our watches, then each other, sighed, and walked away to wait. It was now 2:15 (yeah, 15 minutes of pure hell in the studio room that felt like hours), so we walked around the mall, waiting.

At 2:45 we were back, and they told us the pictures weren’t finished uploading. We were asked to wait, saying it would be a few minutes. Around 3:00, I was getting impatient, and Cordy was nearing a meltdown, as it was now past naptime. I listened to the women working the portrait studio chat about what Lean Cuisine meals they brought for lunch. I gave a sympathetic glance to the woman with two children who had arrived for pictures.

We finally got to view them. Turns out that we spent so much time waiting because they had to create a ton of different “enhancement” options for us to ignore. And we didn’t get to see the plain pictures first, either. We had to look at each enhancement, listen to the so-called photographer rave about how lovely it was, then click to the next one. I was holding Cordy at this point, because she was too tired to stand anymore. The woman asked if I wanted to be able to view the photos online, and I said sure.

I showed my coupon, and placed my order of normal pictures (one was sepia toned, but that was just to hide the red lumps on Cordy’s forehead). She then took her time ringing up the order. At this point Cordy was waving frantically at her, saying “Bye-BYE! SEE-ya!” Clearly Cordy’s limits had been reached, and mine were close.

When I saw the total, I asked for an explanation. “Oh, well, your one 8×10 was free, and her sitting fee was free. You and your husband were each $9.99 for your sitting fees.”

My jaw fell open. “Wait, what? We were only in two pictures at the end, just to help keep her under control!”

“It says right here in the small print, that only the first person’s sitting fee is free.”

“But we weren’t planning to be in the pictures!”

“But you were.” She continued: “Also, the Smiles by Wire service is $4.99.”

“It costs $4.99 to view my photos online?” (Note: At Sears, this is a free service and it take 1-2 days to show up online.)

“Yes, I thought you knew that. Anyway, they’ll be available online in 7-10 days. If you don’t want the service, we’ll need to go back to the computer in the back and change your order.”

At that point, I just wanted out, so I paid and left. The woman asked me “What time would you like to pick your pictures up?” I replied that morning would be best. She then said, “No, I mean between 3 and 7pm.” Oh, sorry lady, I lack the ability to read your mind.

I should also point out at this point that the price of my photographs (not counting the one “enhancement”, which of course cost $14.99) was SMALLER than the price of the sitting fee.

The poor woman who showed up at 2:45 was still waiting with her two kids when we left. I imagine she was probably going to keep waiting, as one of the two (yes, only two!) women working the portrait studio decided it was time for her lunch break. I hope her Lean Cuisine tasted like cardboard.

Our pictures will be ready June 29, and they’d better sparkle with diamond dust for what I paid for them. Oh, and I’m so totally copying the pictures off the internet when I get my e-mail confirmation. You bet I’m getting my $4.99 worth.

My advice for the day: stay far, far away from the JC Penney Portrait Studio, or at least the Eastland Mall location in Columbus, OH. That is, unless you like spending ALL AFTERNOON there, attempting to keep your child entertained just so you can get uncreative, uninspiring pictures.