Neighbors...

...can't live next to them, can't afford to move to my own private island.

Okay, so we've owned this house for 10 years and not had any real problems with neighbors until now, so I don't really have much to gripe about.

Oh, we've had some little problems...teenagers from across the street being too loud at night. I did have call the cops once on their little domestic showdown in the front yard at 2 AM, but they were sufficiently frightened and have straightened up since then.

Most of the other people on our street are elderly and very nice. They have their moments (blaming us for actions of all stray cats, simply because we have cats) but since they are usually pretty nice I overlook that. Plus they are old and I feel they've earned the right to be crabby.

We have new neighbors across the alley from our backyard. I mentioned them once before and I'm still not sure about them.

Tuesday the little boy came and knocked on the door, wanting to know if he could come in and play with Jordan. I sent him away as we're potty training Celia and she was running around buck naked at the time. Plus I was really crabby (surprise!) and didn't want another kid in the house.

Ten minutes later the doorbell rings again. I go to answer the door and find another little boy, standing on my porch in shorts and a t-shirt (it was less than 50 degrees out) and his hand in his pants.

That's right. He had his hand in his pants.

Not like way down in there digging around some perverted way or anything....but his fingers were completely covered by waistband.

Plus he was only about 10...I don't think he was a pervert.

So I opened the door and asked, "Can I help you?" (Doh! Why did I say THAT? I certainly don't want to help!)

He replies, "I came to talk to you about one of your sons. He was messin' with my dog."

I respond (straining myself to NOT look at the hand) "Well, I only have one son, and he's standing right there (Jordan was being nibby and just about falling over himself to see who was here). He's been in the house since he came home from school. I can assure you he wasn't messing with your dog."

We then proceeded to discuss the phantom boy in a yellow toboggan that his sister had seen messin' with the dog for several minutes. He was polite and apologetic, but the whole the his hand stayed IN HIS PANTS!

Anyway, I briefly considered that the first little boy may have been the culprit, even though he wasn't wearing a yellow hat. But since I'm not exactly sure what "messin' with my dog" entails, I didn't rat the little guy out.

I mean, he does seem like an okay kid. And these tho kids live right next to each other. The kid with the dog...well I know I don't like them as I heard his family swearing at each other with they moved in last month. And that freaking dog does bark ALL of the time. So "messin' with the dog" may have been nothing more than the first kid walking through his own yard, yelling at the dog to shut up.

I don't know, and I'm staying out of it.

So yesterday, we had guitar. In my rush to get Jordan, his guitar, my panty clad toddler, everyone's snack, my tea, purse, and pile of ECB into the car I didn't get the big door shut all the way (we have a storm door that was closed). This happens pretty frequently (shhh, I know, I know, I need to lock the door. I know. Stop lecturing me.)

Chris beat us home by just a few minutes and found the nice (but persistent and irritating) little boy on our porch. We spent quite a few minutes wondering whether the kid had wandered through the house looking for us.

I hope he didn't. But I will be locking the door now. Just in case, you know?

Anyway, our big triumph of the week....Celia is wearing panties!

She's going really well staying dry...but she is still scared to poop in the potty. So she gets up early in the morning to poop (she still sleeps in diapers) on the sly. Whatever, she's wearing panties all day now.

It's another one of those bittersweet milestones. That cute little diaper butt was about all the "baby" she had left in her. She is very verbal and talks like a child. She runs like a child. She's got pretty hair like a big girl (or Goldilocks, which is what she thinks). She's not my baby anymore. It's breaking my heart.

Sniffle Sniff.

Well, I finally caught the cold that has been making it's rounds through everyone I know. I'm really hoping that it doesn't turn into some kind of antibiotic requiring infection. It's not looking good though as my ears are all stuffy and crackly. How ironic is that...I've never had an ear infection (to my knowledge) before this year. I already had a monsterous one in December....I'd rather not do it again.

Plus Chris leaves for Vegas tomorrow morning. Which means any visit to a doctor will likely come with chasing my toddler around the quick care center...as task that is quite likey to make me not go at all.

I have a ton of things I really ought to be doing today....but I'd much rather lay on the couch with my box of tissues and a book. I will probably guilt myself into getting moving shortly and working on the bathroom a little.

It doesn't help that even after my breakdown saturday night Chris really has only done the bare minimum around here. I told him that after the past 6 weeks I just don't know how I can get through one more week alone, that I'm completely overwhelmed, stressed out, and just over all miserable...and I was pretty much dismissed with a pat on the head and a half-hearted "Oh, you'll be fine" before he disappeared back to the void of our basement. Nothing like complete emotional detachment to prepare you for a week of being alone while your spouse lives it up in Vegas.

My therapist recommended that I plan something outside the house every day next week so I have a little adult interaction. I think I'm taking the kids to a bike rodeo on Saturday, and I think we should have a MOPS meeting thursday...so that's something.

I need to figure out a church to go to sunday morning....and now I need to figure out something for Wednesday night. I decided after last night debacle that we would now being going back to the old church.

There hasn't been a teacher for the boy's class for the past two weeks. Last night my friend took them and taught them....but she already is responsible for making sure there are volunteers for the little kid's rooms on sunday morning (more than half the time the schedule workers just don't show up). She's also had an increasing role on the praise team since Chris and I left....so now she didn't her her one chance to actually sit in church (with her husband, who also does much of the media stuff) for our marriage class. She's stressed out, and I'm stressed out for her. I mean, there's nothing I can do about it...I tried talking to the leadership when I was an active member and on the praise team and that didn't do any good....so it's certainly not going to do any good for me to say something now. Anyway, we left the church because it was sucking the life out of me. I can't keep going every week (because as I've mentioned before, the marriage class is doing crap for us when I'm the only one going to it) at watch it sucking the life from my best friend. She's a big girl (and a much stronger, more kind, and faithful woman than I) and will take care of it herself.

Anyway, Jordan is a little social glutton and loves being with a group of boys on wednesday night....so I feel like I have to find something to replace that with.

Celia has lost all patience with mommy typing away on the computer, so I'm going to go and let her climb, jump and waller all over me. I'll be back to rant about my neighbors ('cause that's the kind of mood I'm in today) and share out potty training success.

Infatuation

Spring is in the air and love is floating around. We've all discovered new found love in some interesting places.



Celia has a serious ducky addiction. She's always loved her ducks, but at an Easter egg hunt this past weekend they hid some little ducks with eggs. She was perfectly content plucking brightly colored eggs in her basket, but once she saw those ducks it was all over. Her eyes got all big and she screamed "Duckies mama, duckies! All the duckies I could ever need! Duckies!" She abandoned all efforts at getting eggs and began scooping up ducks like there was no tomorrow. No other toddler even had a chance at getting a duck, she snatched them all up. In the effort of sharing, we did let everyone pick a duck from her baskets who didn't get one (we still brought home around 10-15 little Easter ducks).



Add those to our already fleet of ducks and you have a regular ducky army. The big ducks usually reside in the bathroom as we allow those in the tub...but the little ones roam the house at will. I don't let them in the tub because they don't drain well and get all nasty inside. The big ducks all have names like: Ivory, Magenta, Violet, Peachy (she's the favorite). You'll also see George in the back. George is an honorary duck. He's really a big blowfish that terrified her for the first two weeks of his existence (she dropped him and ran when she pulled him out of her stocking at her grandparents house and for two weeks demanded "Take him out the tub. He's scarin' my ducks"). She now loves him and treats him just like he's a duck.



Her second love is not necessarily a new love. She's always had a taste for chocolate. But since Easter she's discovered how great it is to sit with a small plastic egg of pastel M&Ms. This is Easter morning....yes, she's wearing several pairs of new panties over her pajamas. The bunny brought them and she was very eager to wear them.



Jordan is in love with his new iPod. If he had his way, he's listen to it all of the time. But mom won't let him take it to school, church, or during dinner. That does leave a lot extra listening time though!

My current new infatuation is CVS. I love that place. I bought some make-up last week, which totally does not work for me. I also accidentally threw away the receipt.

My favorite manager took it back, no problems at all. He was more than happy to do so. I would say that I've got a crush on him, but I honestly can't remember what the man looks like (I do remember he is normal looking, slightly attractive...I would remember a 3rd eye or snaggled teeth). What I do remember is any time I've had to deal with him he is so sweet, polite, accommodating, and basically gets me whatever I need. I don't really want to know him any more than that...because that's obviously a fallacy I'd like to keep intact.

So they took the make-up back, gave me some money. Which I re-invested in items that will give me more Extra Care Bucks. (I didn't actually pay for the make-up in the first place, I used some ECB from the last deal they had). Basically at the end of the month I will have 5 bottles of Listerine, 5 really cool looking Oral B Sonic toothbrushes, 5 Softsoap body washes, 5 tubes of Crest Natural Expessions toothpaste, some Aleve and Excedrin. None of it will cost me any money. (Most will get donated to charity or given away to friends, we have so much of this stuff already and things like toothpaste do expire. Let me know if you want some!). I'll also have a boatload of ECB to spend next month on whatever they are offering. Plus I always need to get a few extra things to get me up to the total ECB I have so I can shop around for other useless stuff (like Easter clearance). It's a total shopping high which costs me no money.

If you want to figure out how to get started on these ECB deals, e-mail me and I'll try to help. Better yet, visit the CVS forum at families.com. That's where I get all my information and the ladies there are amazing about finding deals and sharing them with the world!

Why we have a home security system....

It's been requested that I share this story....because honestly...it is pretty funny. Now.

We own a very nice home security system. It's an anomaly really, in our quiet, safe little town. Lots of people around here still don't lock their doors. But we now have a very nifty home security system, complete with a motion detector that the cats can set off if the band together in some rambunctious kitty playtime.

About 4 years ago, my new husband woke me up in the middle of the night (again) asking me "Did you hear that? What's that noise". He does this at least twice a week, so I told him to leave me alone and go back to sleep.

He doesn't let up though. "Seriously, did you shut our bedroom door? Or turn off the light in the family room?"

Well now, I had to think about it.....because I did have a few brief sleepwalking episodes as a youth...but no, I was pretty sure I hadn't done any of that. Jordan has always been a little skittish in the dark, so we leave a light on in the family room for him. And we never sleep with the bedroom door shut.

So now I'm awake and Chris tells me to listen. Really listen. And sure enough, we heard some rustling. Which could be those stupid cats, but then we hear some drawers opening and shutting. Which is not the cats. (Even the one with the thumbs hasn't mastered opening drawers).

We go into panic mode. I tell Chris to dial 911 and I tiptoe/run through the family room to grab Jordan. He was amazingly well behaved through the whole event. I grabbed him and had him in our bed before he was hardly awake. We whispered to him "Don't make any noise...there's a bad guy in the house!" He burrowed under the covers and didn't make a peep.

Chris whispered to me that the operator was sending police. We can still hear noises coming from downstairs, so I grab the most dangerous thing we own (a Maglite!) and creep to the door at the top of the stairs. I slowly pull the door shut.....but no way am I letting go of that doorknob. I've got the doorknob in one hand and a Maglite hefted over my shoulder in the other. I'm also trying hard not to hyperventilate and praying harder than I ever have in my entire life.

Both boys are on the bed, peering at me. Chris is still on the phone with 911, but we hear the cops arrive and he hangs up (because that's what you do when help is here).

We can hear the police start shouting "Sir, do you live here? Stop where you are, put you hands where we can see them."

Then the unmistakable sounds of a struggle. Chris is freaking out and telling me to get back in the bedroom as he's going to barricade the door, but I'm just frozen there....me and my Maglite, holding the door at the top of the stairs shut.

I hiss at him to call 911 again, and he does....while dragging a dresser over and blocking himself and the boy in the bedroom. The operator informs him that she is sending backup.

Backup? That's not exactly what I want to hear!

Now we can't hear anything from downstairs. Just silence, forever.

Then footsteps on the stairs. Heavy footsteps. And panting.

So when I said I was hyperventilating and praying before....yeah...more of that again.

Eventually this person gets to the other side of my door. He knocks and calls out "Police, are you all okay? Open the door."

I (not so politely) respond "slide you ID under the door."

We then proceed to have an insane conversation that police are not allowed to carry ID, that I should really open the door for him, and I'm telling him that's not going to happen anytime soon.

Finally, this man (who does happen to be a cop) sighed and says "Ma'am, I took a shot of pepper spray to the face and I'm going to go outside and throw up now. I'll send someone else up to check on you and your family"

He does send up another very nice officer, and we creep out of our upstairs. We call Chris's parents, who are here in no time. None of us can be downstairs for any amount of time because just the pepper spray fumes from the officer's clothing make us cough and gag. They have us come out on the porch to see if we know the intruder (we do not) and I apologize to the poor officer who's just finished puking in the bushes. We find out later his arm was broken in the struggle (and most of the pins and badges from his uniform are lost forever under our porch).

The miscreant that they caught was just going out the back door when the police arrived. He had my son's backpack (homework included) slung over one shoulder and our bucket of spare change in the other arm. Into the backpack he had thrown an array of stuff including: social security cards, Chris's passport, Chris's wallet, power screwdriver, wrenches and other assorted tools, trumpet mouthpieces (?!?), and our video camera.

Turns out this guy is a registered sex offender. Before we woke up, he had been in our bedroom and most likely in our son's room. I really think that God kept our family safe that night....because we had the best possible outcome of a very scary situation.

So there you have it. Now when my husband wakes me up at night with his breathless "Did you hear that, What was that noise" I do at least give a little listen before I tell him to let me sleep.

The story is really much more funny if you have us tell it in person...because we're the crazy kind of couple that like to demonstrate much of the action. Invite us to your next party, we'll provide the entertainment.

Help Wanted!

Well, I came to the shocking realization last night that Chris will be leaving THIS FRIDAY for Vegas. Just 5 short days from now.

I really thought I had more time...at least another week to try and recover from this marathon of work he's had going on recently.

But no, it's coming up amazingly fast...and I'm not sure how I'm going to get through it.

I know how silly that sounds...I mean, what's one more week. For the past 6 weeks his schedule has been crazy with projects and travel...so really, one more week shouldn't be that bad.

But it is. First off, I'm just incredibly run down and stressed out by this point. Second, he's all the way across the freakin' country this time. Third...well, it's Vegas and I kind of wanted to go. We say every year I'm going, but it never seems to work out that way, and this year that plan fell through the cracks again. Which isn't that big of a deal. One day out children will be grown and on their own and we'll have money to travel, so I'll go to Vegas then.

But I want a break now! Not necessarily a cushy vacation (though a week at the Bellagio sure would be nice) just a break.

So I've decided what I need to get me through the week is a companion. Not that kind of companion....get your mind out of the gutter!

I need a lady to come stay with me.....keep me company! Help me out around here!

Preferably a foreign lady with a cool accent. (I love accents, they just cheer me up so much). Not some scary German, Russian, or French accent...those are a little too intimidating. Someone with a light Spanish or British accent. Heck, I'd even settle for a Canadian or a southerner. But an accent is required.

She should be willing to help out with the house work. Not do it all of course, but we could talk and fold laundry....we could stand in the kitchen and I would cook, she would clean up (because while I love to cook, I do hate the clean up).

She should also be a little older and more knowledgeable than me so I won't have to take frequent computer breaks to Google all these things I don't know how to do (which is a trap. one quick search, a check of my e-mail, my site meter, message boards.....the Internet is a bottomless pit of time wasting!)

After I put the kids in bed we could watch a movie, maybe scrapbook a little...chat about stupid stuff.

She should enjoy tea, with cream. Just like me. That's really a kindred spirit thing......

She could bring a few books she loves with her and let me read them. I'm all out of new stuff. (I'm more than willing to share mine with her...)

Do you know anyone like that? Tell her I'm in the market for some good (free) help.

How to Save a Life

Become a bone marrow donor.

Yes, it's a big deal. I know, it's a little scary. But you really can save the life of someone's child, someone's mother, someone's father.....or maybe even that nice old guy that lives down the street. Possibly even that crabby old lady that you don't really like, but certainly don't want her to die.

Someone like baby Trevor.

Are you fired up? Are you ready to do it? Good! Visit the National Marrow Donor Program and sign right up. They're going to ask you some pretty personal information. If you're not comfortable giving that kind of information out online, then you can search for a donor center near you.

After you tell them all about yourself, they will send you a nifty little packet where you swab your cheek, send in some cells......and probably never hear from them again.

But on that off chance that you do match with someone, it could save their life.

Unfortunately, the testing does cost a little. $52 actually. But every once in awhile they will offer a promotional code in hopes of quickly matching someone who REALLY needs a donor.

So now is the time. Use this code: G02207 and they will waive they processing fee. Somewhere, some really nice person or organization is willing to pony up $52 to test YOU and see if you match with someone in need.

All is Not Lost

There is hope for the next generation. I'd like to direct your attention to a little gem of a song I heard when listening to commercial radio yesterday (my favorite cd was gone...)

Cupid's Chokehold by Gym Class Heroes

I liked the song a lot better before I started blogging about it and watched the video (I honestly haven't turned on MTV in....well, it's been a really long time.

Because at first I thought the whole song was about the same girl. I'm not sure how they refrain fits with the verses...I think they just really liked that Supertramp song and stuck it in there.

So all through the song he talks about nice traits of his girlfriend(s) and they are totally normal things. She takes care of him, cooks him good food, loves his band's music, she's got beautiful eyes, gorgeous skin, and a great laugh. Not once does he mention any slang terms for hot sex, a big butt, or bouncing breasts.

It's almost ....sweet. In an alternative hip-hop kind of way.

Now the video....I discover it's really a string of girlfriends...and it does show a few more seductive scenes....but really, it's innocent and demure in comparison to the other crap that's out there!


I already know this post is probably going to bring some nasty losers to my page. I can deal with that....because I'm already bringing in some pretty weird people. Some of my personal favorite google searches that lead people here are:

Brick House Mamas Butts (How dare you!)

Blackberry Frustration Marriage (In my defense, those words are not all combined in the same post on MY page....but I can see how you might be searching for some help there!)

Toddler dealing with anger and peeing (Whoa, get that kid some therapy!)

What is pepperoni skin (you really don't want to know, stop searching while you're ahead)

and finally...

Guitars - Helping Ugly People Get Laid For 50 Years (hmmm, I don't even know what to say to you!)