Friday, July 26, 2013

Give a Little, Take a Little

Back at election time I signed on to help President Obama campaign.  My efforts went as far as registering to vote and pledging to vote for him.  Of course, they asked for my e-mail address and dag nab it I was feeling so patriotic I gave them my real e-mail address.

At first, it was awesome.  I'd get e-mails from local supporters and the Bidens... and every once in awhile I'd get a gem from the First Lady 'erself.  Ol' Mikki and me.  She was always calling me her friend and asking for favors to help Barack.  And, since I consider myself a grade A friend, I was always willing to help out my new famous friends. 
Barack needs help pushing a bill through?  You got it, Sir!
Barack needs me to organize a calling tree and hold town hall meetings?  Anything for you! 
Michelle wants me to share what I love about her husband, the President?  Sure!  What's not to love! 
They need more likes on Facebook?  Why not!  It only takes two seconds. 
The election came, we won and I got a personalized thank you note. The deepest places in my heart, where I hide all my doubt, were warmed. 
Barack and Michelle appreciated me.  They called me Patty and I just felt certain that if I invited them to dinner, they'd show up.  Right on time.  Probably toting along a warm dessert.  And Michelle would compliment me on my outfit and ask to borrow my button up cardigan. 

Things were pretty rose colored there for while.  Barack took time out of is schedule to write me and tell me how much he needed me to stay close.  And I assured him I would be there every step of the way.

But I gotta tell ya.  Since then... you know...since the big inauguration... I haven't gotten as many e-mails from Michelle.  And I haven't gotten any from Barack.  I was getting one every couple a days from a Jon Carson.  Asking me to do this or that.  Pledge money, buy a t-shirt, pledge more money, call my senator or congressman, or pledge more money.  And, you know, he never once called me Patty.  It was always "friend."  Sorry Jon-o.  When it was Michelle calling me friend, she meant it.  With you... it feels a little pushed. 

It's been months since I've heard from Michelle.  Never wrote, never called, never said thanks after I mailed that hand written letter.  Broke my little democrat heart.  And then, last week I get an e-mail every day from Michelle.  All the sudden she needs something.  And she's asking me to step up and do what needs done to help her and Barack.  You know what, Michelle?  What about me?  What about MY needs?  I'm here giving everything all the time and I never get acknowledged.  I stand up for you guys and support you when things are bad and when things are good.  You only e-mail me when you need something.  How bout every once in awhile shooting something over just to check in, huh? Or here's one even better.  Why don't you e-mail me when you're going to do something for me.  Not when I have to do something for you.  Once, just once, send me an e-mail saying:
"Patty Old Friend, I've been doing a lot of thinking.  And you've helped tremendously.  I'm going to implement your idea to get rid of the national debt, send that Nobel Prize your way, and top it off with a Gap gift card as a way to say thanks.  You're the best Patty.  And I love your style.  Love always, Michelle"

Maybe then I would feel like I mattered.  You're the president's wife, after all.  You should be helping me.  Not the other way around, missy.

To be clear, I still love you both.  These kinds of (abusive) relationships are hard for me to let go of.  And I think you're both super hip and you have good intentions at heart.  But I'm just running on empty here. 
Maybe it'd be better if you didn't e-mail me for ahwhile.  I just need some time to think.
Thanks to me.  Good luck being so victorious without me holding your hand every step of the way.

Tuesday, July 2, 2013

Joey is One

July 23, 2012
You came July 2, 2012 at 8:27 AM.  You weighed 8 pounds and 9 oz.  You were 21 inches long.  And guess what?  You have LOTS of dark hair!  Like ME!  That made me so happy.  When you came out you were screeching like a man old alley cat.  It made me and Dad laugh.  You have a mark on your forehead just like Koley had.  His looked like a flower.  Yours looks like a butterfly.  What manly boys!  You are such a sweet baby.  You have big eyes and you love to watch us.  Oh!  And you eat like a pirate.  You're ALWAYS hungry!  You like to sleep sitting up.  Like PapPap "watching sports."  So you sleep in your bouncy chair most nights.  You get really smiley after meals.  And- of course- since you're a Poulsen like us... you love to snuggle.  You're very beautiful.  You're my best boy. 
Love, Mom

All that schmoopey doopey dewey-eyed mommy baby stuff didn't last.  Joey cried.  A lot.  Which made me cry.  A lot.

Am I sad or do I need a snack?
A Note to Joey
I decided to take control.
After 3 months... things worked out for the better.

And now... my little cubber is one.
He's still a little baby.  And he still needs me.  Which warms my heart. 
But now... gets to eat cupcakes and drink milk.