A Series of Unfortunate Events (Complete with a Hit and Run)

Fridays are my favorite day of the week. You get to finish your work week, know that you have the next two days to be with your family and friends and not have to worry about who you are going to charge your time to or if you are being fully utilized or not (ahhh, the beauty of corporate America).

Two Fridays ago was nothing but a disaster.

We were told by the inspector that the washing machine that the previous owners left with the house was in working order. Since it was already hooked up, I decided that I would use it until we could switch them out. I went to run a load and quickly discovered that yes, it did work… that is if you consider leaking water all over the floor working.
That afternoon I was startled by an unexpected knock on the front door. The older lady that stood there kindly informed me that a school bus had hit my car and drove off without stopping. WHAT!?!? I seriously had to have her repeat herself as I played out in my mind a big yellow school bus turning the corner and sideswiping my car. I went out to assess the damage and I found several scratches down the back side of my car, yellow paint on my taillight, and a dent in the rear passenger side. I swear people- I can’t make this stuff up! I called the police since it was a hit and run, filed a report, called the school district, etc. I was told that they are obviously going to take care of it, but the driver of the bus denies hitting anything. I find this funny since the witness claims that after he hit my car he stopped, turned around to look and then went on. The county bus people are pulling the tape for confirmation. Thank goodness for responsible citizens!

As if that drama was not enough, one of my neighbors stopped by to ask if I had heard the shooting across the street the other night. Excuse me?!?!? Come to find out, the night before we actually moved our stuff into our asbestos free house, my neighbors were woken up to the sound of five bullets being shot into the front door of the house across the street. That’s right people, we have moved from one shooting event to another. I seriously don’t know what in my life I have done to deserve flying bullets near my residence twice in one year, but I have got some seriously bad Karma.

FYI- no one was hit by the gun fire (thank God). In the meantime I keep looking around for Ashton Kutcher to pop out from around the corner to claim that I have been Punk’d uncelebrity style. I can’t ever find him. Dick Clark, are you around???

Asbestos 101

Yes, it has been about three months since my last post. And yes, we are still working on our house. While I will spare you all the boring details about what all we have fixed, updated, installed, knocked out and enclosed, I am going to share my wealth of knowledge that I have gained on the subject of Asbestos.

Our house was built in 1975. After our inspection and closing on our new/old house, John and I started on the mile long list of renovations. From the looks on the inside, the house hadn’t seen any updates since it was originally built. While I am sure some people like the dark brown paneling and popcorn ceilings of the 70’s, it doesn’t really suit my fancy. We figured we would start from the top down, so scraping the ceilings was at the top of our list. John researched how to do it (because paying for labor was not in the budget). First thing that had to be done was to scrape a sample of the popcorn ceiling and send it to a lab to be tested for asbestos. Two days later we got the call that it was “hot.” In layman’s terms… we had asbestos in the ceiling in over half the house- 5% to be exact, which we were told is a medium to high amount for a residence.

What do you do about that? Well, you call your friend that is an asbestos expert. Everyone has one right? But seriously, I do. Nate H. came to our rescue- and while I can’t name my first born child after him, we definitely owe him some warmed up cow on a plate. Nate told us how to safely remove it from the ceilings- seal off the doorways and vents, cover everything in plastic, open all windows and doors to the outside, and most importantly wet the popcorn and scrape it off and keep it wet. The objective is to keep the dust from it from stirring up into the air. So that is exactly what John did while wearing his coveralls and respirator (a kind of homemade hazmat suit).

After a couple of weeks of ridding our house of the asbestos, we called Nate to come in and test our air to make sure that we got every bit of it out, also to make sure that what we had been breathing the past couple of weeks wasn’t going to give us cancer. Now, just to put into perspective our test results, schools have the strictest standards and are allowed a score of 70 per so many units of air. So as long as we scored a 70 or lower, we were okay to move in. Our score- 437.

Six times higher than what they allow in schools! I was never in more need of a padded room than when I heard that news. I thought I was going to have a mental/emotional/physical breakdown (and basically did on every level to a certain extent).

The explanation- We speculate that the source was not the ceilings (as we removed it the exact way we were supposed to) but a wall in our master bedroom that we knocked down. We assume that asbestos was in the joint compound in the wall, and since we didn’t know to test the wall, the dust from it got in the air and spread throughout the house.

To make a long story a little bit shorter, John, his parents, and I spent several days cleaning the house, switching filters, dusting, vacuuming, and mopping in hopes to collect all the asbestos dust that settled. Nate also brought over an air filtration system that filtered the air in the house which we ran non-stop for about a week. After days of cleaning and what I know was a little divine intervention, Nate came to test a second time and we got a score of zero on our results. We got EVERY BIT of it out!

As for our health… I don’t think we have asbestos (or Mesothelioma, the cancer you get from asbestos), because we only had limited exposure to it. Evidently those people who do get or have it, are those people who worked in the factories or in construction that were around it all day everyday for many years. It takes about 30 yrs for it to show up, so I’ll let you know in 2038.

Under Construction

After two weeks of being totally and 100% debt free, our family is comfortably back in the red as we became proud homeowners yet again. We bought the house in Richardson (described below) because of the great area and GREAT schools. Due to all the remodeling work we are having to do to the property, we are still living at my mother's house until the dust settles at the new place (we are thinking about another two weeks…which might be wishful thinking).

Our plan is to have the painting, flooring (carpet and hardwood), and ceilings done before we start taking our belongings over. And yes, we are doing everything ourselves (except for the carpet).

I promise to post before and after pictures once we get over there and start on everything. I sent out an email with the new address, but if for some reason you didn't get it, let me know and I'll email it to you.
Side note: If you are a blog stalker and I don't know who you are, feel free to send your Christmas wishes via the comments section of this blog. No home address will be given out to you.
Anyway… My sanity level has taken a nose dive within the past week. Those who know me well will attest to the fact that I don’t handle change very well. Living with my mom has been quite an experience (and that's all I'll say as she is a faithful reader). It has been a little difficult being back at "home" where we are all cramped and I am not surrounded by my own familiar things. All three of our wardrobes are in one closet and Braden’s food is in a cardboard box in our room.

Needless to say Braden has needed some time to adjust to his new surroundings as well. To make matters worse, we have to ship him off to the Shuttlesworth Funny Farm (John's parent's house) this next week so that John and I can work on the house 24/7 without interruption. It will only be for a couple of days, but it still makes me miss him already. I just can't simply have him over there with us in the dust and paint fumes (not to mention the people used to smoke, so we have to deal with that issue as well). While I did paint three rooms and two hallways in our old house when I was pregnant with Braden (and he escaped from having webbed fingers and feet when he was born), I think exposing him to all the work we will be doing this time will only guarantee him a permanent seat in the Special Ed class for the rest of his academic career.

I'll be glad when this is all said and done… As I told my friend Jami- I am one issue away from having a mental breakdown where I get in the car and just start driving until I run out of gas... of course that will only get me to Mesquite, and from there I would have to head East to Forney on foot where the soles of my shoes would melt to the pavement and I would then be forced to head into the woods where I live out the rest of my life as a hermit that scares little children living in the local trailer park... (insert deep calming breath here).


On a lighter note, my mom does have cable where we have been watching ALL of the DIY and HGTV shows on how to do things yourself. I have also enjoyed the following shows: "Talk Soup," "Girls Next Door," and anything on the E! channel.

Who’s McGruff?

Apologies for the unannounced blogging sabbatical. If I am not working, I’m packing; if I’m not packing, I’m taking care of Braden; and if he is taken care of, I’m packing… and you know the never ending cycle. So those of you that haven’t written me off totally, here is what’s been going on: Braden had his First Birthday! After a lot of time planning and a slight dent in the budget, we had family over for hamburgers, cake and ice cream. It was a success and we had a ton of fun.

Recently we also had One Year pictures and family pictures taken. Not only did I get to put in my work hours, rush to get ready, drive 30-45 minutes to Plano to the photographer, but I also had the delight of dealing with a 12 month old that didn't sleep hardly at all the night before. Man... great day!

This one is my favorite. He is wearing John's hat. We are going to have his picture taken in it every year until he grows into it.

This one we had printed in Black and white and it is PRECIOUS!!! Apologies fo rthe lack of cropping on some of these... I am of course pressed for time.

Our beautiful family (if I do say so myself!). God has blessed us richly!

In other news- we have sold our house and close on Tuesday, July 29. We have to be out by Wednesday where we are moving in with my mother (prayer requests please) for two weeks until we can close on the house that we are buying. Yes, contract #3 was the charm, but we are still hoping for a smooth ending to this process.

The house that we are look at to buy is in Richardson (my old stomping grounds). We were told about the house before it even went on the market so we didn’t have a lot of pressure with putting down a contract trying to beat others to the punch, etc. This was nice because we got to meet with our lender to iron out the financial details before we got in over our heads (trying to be smart about everything). I refrained from bringing along my laptop to show the lender my financial spreadsheet that our family goes by monthly (I figured he was out of gold stars anyway). I do have to say that it feels good to actually have a grasp on what we are doing and where every penny is going. There really is power in that (and no, I don’t go kissing my Dave Ramsey poster every night).

So about this house in Richardson- Luckily it is in a great neighborhood and is selling for $30-$40K less that the others due to repair/update work that needs to be done to it. John and I are up for the task of remodeling as long as Braden is in a good neighborhood with a good school. We are actually looking forward to making some of the changes that we have discussed (putting up drywall, building a new fence, painting, flooring…the list is forever long). We seem to think that we can do it ourselves (again- prayer requests please). What we really like about it is that it is a lot more space than what we have now (of course after packing things up, that kinda seems like a bad thing: more space = more junk). It is a four bedroom house, two living areas, two dining areas, a separate office, laundry room, two covered patio areas, and a fireplace (which we don’t have now). Yes, my child will actually get to hang his stocking this year on a mantel without me having to come up with some lame excuse about Santa coming in through the back door that takes the strength of Hercules to open.

Now about my title up above- This past weekend I had the honor of being McGruff the Crime Dog’s assistant. Now had this been 25 years ago, I would have been in Heaven getting to help the ever so famous crime fighting detective dog “take a bite out of crime.” However, I am 30 years old and standing outside one of Garland’s ghetto Walmarts in the 103 degree heat from 2:00 to 4:00 on a Saturday was not my idea of a dream come true. Regardless, one of my lieutenant friends asked me to help out and of course, the word “no” never enters my mind. So there I was this past Saturday passing out police badge stickers and helping kids get their picture taken with McGruff. Very quickly I came to the realization that McGruff has been out of the lime light a little too long because not only did MOST of the kids not have a clue as to who McGruff was, but even some of the parents were saying, “Look! It’s Smokey the Bear!”
WHAT!!!! Are you people idiots?!?! Smokey the Bear doesn’t have big floppy ears. Smokey the Bear doesn’t wear a big trench coat. SMOKEY THE BEAR DOESN’T LOOK LIKE A DOG! Good grief!

Now I do have to keep in mind that we were at a GHETTO Walmart, where I am sure most of the clientele tends to avoided all police dogs (real and animated).

Rookies

I’ve been lacking in posts the past few weeks due to life dumping a truck load of lemons in my way. Since my cupboards lack the simple food staples to make a delicious lemon meringue pie, I have been forced to start squeezing them like crazy- only to make lemon juice (no sugar for the “aid” either, but have no fear, payday was just the other day)! Here’s what’s been going on:

I realized I have now come full circle in life. The other day I had the one childhood prank that I did, pulled on me. Yes, I am one of those adults that was targeted for the never boring “ring-and-run” prank (and yes, I was one of those kids that did that). Was it well deserved? I have no doubt, as Karma has a funny way of waiting until you reach “the other side.” So I am standing at my kitchen sink when I heard the door bell ring. I look up to see out my kitchen window a little tubby white kid waddling by with a Camel-Bak of water strapped to his back (talk about preparing for a hard days work!). Of course to amuse whoever was watching, I opened the front door, put on my Academy Award winning shocked face and then shut the door again. I was also looking out to make sure there wasn’t a flaming bag of you know what on the door step (and no, I was not one of those kids!). Not but five minutes later I see a group of three kids (tubby included) standing in the street just hanging out. While the thought crossed my mind to go out to them and point out their rookie mistakes:
1. don’t send your slowest guy to do it,
2. don’t stand out in front of the house that you just pranked five minutes ago,
3. don’t prank a house that has all their windows open

I refrained, smiled to myself, and secretly wished them "happy pranking."

I also took a moment to think back on the poor elderly neighbors that I used to prank. Ahhh, who am I kidding, I deserved a flaming bag of poop!

On another sour note, I locked myself out of the house the other day. Did I mention that Braden was inside? I came home from Walmart and put Braden in his highchair so I could go back out to the car and get the remainder of the groceries. I loaded up my arms with bags, got to the back door and... nothing, that was as far as I got. Luckily, after running around the house in my Sunday clothes (heels included), I called my mom to come over with my house key and let me in. What was ironic was the fact that I had a set of house keys hanging on the front door, I just couldn't break into the lock box to get to them. In only a slight panic (he was in his highchair after all), I found my Swiss army knife in my car, prayed to God to give me any James Bond lock picking abilities he could give me and pulled out the flimsy metal tweezers and went to town. Who was I kidding? After 20 minutes, I kissed my career as a locksmith goodbye. I was dripping with sweat in my 101 degree garage with the bottom of my feet throbbing from being rubbed raw because I was running around the outside of the house in my heels (it’s like they weren’t made for running). Never fear, Crazy Gran to the rescue. My mom got there and let me in. Braden was crying hysterically, but physically okay (the jury is still out on psychology). Is this a right of passage for the Rookie mother?

Our house now has a third contract on it. The first contract was a no go because the lady low-balled us so badly, we were going to have to pay her to buy it (we said no thank you). The second contract we can only chalk up to buyer’s remorse. The couple put a contract down, got the inspection and then proceeded to tell us that they didn’t want the house until we fixed/repaired/updated EVERYTHING the inspector listed (we said have a nice life). This third contract we are hoping is the “third times a charm” sort of deal. While it has truly been amazing that we have had three contracts with only about 15 walk-throughs, we are praying that this is it and we will close at the end of July. The search for our new house is still on.

High Five for Spankings and Baseball

Sorry I have been MIA in blogland. Here are a few updates. First, John bought me a remote. I don't know if it is because I was threatening that was what his Father's day gift was going to be or what, but it doesn't matter... I can now flip though my three channels while in bed. :)

Could my son get any cuter? He is now saying "Mama," and says it all the time. I'm loving it!

He is starting to stand and take steps on his own and I swear he is everywhere! Here is a little footage of his first steps. Funny how he would only do it for a while in his crib (my kid's no fool, softer landing).

Besides that, we are working on teaching him what he can and cannot touch around the house. The other day he was pushing buttons and turning knobs on the stereo (a big no-no which started as a result of him turning up the volume to a deafening level without us knowing). Anytime he would go to touch it, I would simply hold up my hand next to his and spank his hand whenever he would reach for and touch the buttons (call me old-school, but that is what works for us so far so spare me your Love and Logic discipline suggestions). Now, my trouble with this way of discipline coincides with teaching him to "give five." So here is how it usually plays out several times a week:
Braden- Reaches for the buttons on the stereo.
Me- Hold my hand up ready to spank if he touches the buttons.
Braden- Sees Mommy's hand, stops his finger 1 cm away from the stereo, turns Mommy's hand over and gives her five with a big smile.

The other day I also caught him pulling books off the book shelf and when I called out his name he quickly threw the one in his hand down and sat there looking at me like, "Listen Lady, it wasn't me and I don't know why you keep leaving books on the floor." This looks to be an uphill battle... the hill being Mt. Everest.

Last week John turned the big 3-0. We had a great weekend going out to dinner and a movie and then a Ranger game. The game was so fun, but what was even better is that we not only got to be on the Fox Sports Station, but John was on the jumbo-tron for his birthday (made possible by yours truly!)! I had it recorded, but because of the bright lights, you can't really tell what it is. You can however see his beard and the fact that he is holding Braden. Oh well, thanks Jami for the footage! We had such a good time with our friends the Hamricks and the Browns.

Oh, and just when I thought the night couldn't get any more exciting, a fly ball came soaring up a few feet above our heads. I was holding Braden so I quickly covered him up. The ball landed on some old lady sitting directly behind us. She was okay, so I am glad Braden didn't have to witness some sprawled out unconscious old lady at his first baseball game.

Stingy or Frugal?

Now since I have cut back to only working part time, there are several luxuries that we simply cannot afford (actually, when we could afford them we still didn’t have them). For years luxuries like cable television, internet, home phone line, and Tivo/DVR were not found at the Shuttlesworth Shack. We were the proud Urban Amish family (as John’s co-workers fondly referred to us as).

Luckily (and only because it is at the firm’s expense), we have upgraded our status within the past year and got the internet (which included a home phone line) so that I could work from home. Our phone line ringer gets turned on and off since my co-workers and telemarketers are the only ones that have the number. During the hours that I am working, I have it on for such events as meetings, training, or conference calls. Every now and then a telemarketer gets through in which case I simply give them my usual response:
“Yes, this is Mrs. Shuttlesworth, but I am currently working at the moment. So unless you have a charge code that I can bill this call to, I am afraid that you will have to call back another time.”
They are usually a little taken back by what I have said, and therefore agree confusingly to call back later.

So last night my television watching hit an all time low. We still do not have cable, so I am confined to the only 5 channels (3 of which are Spanish) our little rabbit ears can tune in. I am standing at the television- let me stop right here to stress the fact that I am STANDING at the television only because my klutz of a husband accidentally dropped the television remote in a cup of Dr. Pepper (don’t ask how… I simply do not know) and it no longer works.
As I was saying, I was standing at the television flipping channels and there was NOTHING on. But because Braden was already in bed, I felt I had to have the TV on for background noise as I was getting ready for bed. Out of my 5 TV channels, I stopped on one of the Spanish stations that was showing the movie “The Bride of Chucky.”
Yes, that’s right…for 20 minutes I found myself watching these two little demon possessed dolls go around killing people. Now mind you, I can’t understand a word they are saying… IT’S IN SPANISH!

When I got bored of making up my own dialog to what I thought was being said (which mostly consisted of the repeated line, “I’m the doll Chucky and I’m going to kill you!”), I recalled a time when I saw my first Chucky movie.

I was in junior high spending the night at a friend’s house and she turned the original movie on. The little part that we watched back then (which was only about 15-20 minutes) scared the heck out of me so badly that for the next 5 months I would only get in bed by running and jumping onto it so that nothing underneath would grab me! Don’t even get me started on the nightmares! Another thing that came to mind was the fact that these dolls are only about a foot tall- WHY ARE THESE PEOPLE NOT JUST KICKING THEM IN THE HEAD?!?!? Ahh, the greatness of the early 1990’s movies.

After last night, I am seriously thinking I am going to have to break down and invest in some cable (and a remote).

Going Green and Other Extremes

As John and I are in the midst of selling our house, we are starting to see the advantages of a home owners’ association. Now, our neighborhood is the type that opted more for the neighborhood crime watch rather than a HOA (but as you have read earlier, the neighborhood watch is a little lacking). As we move away from our lovely area, we are realizing that there are some things that we are going to miss. For example:

We are going to miss how easy it is to teach Braden his colors. Simply driving through our neighborhood, you can find a vast array of colored houses, as if there is a permanent rainbow for all to see regardless of the weather.

"Look Braden- fuchsia!"

"Look Braden- mustard yellow!"

I give big props to the yellow house for also buying the matching yellow water hose so as to not clash by having a green one sitting out.

I vote to give the people at Home Depot and Lowes the right to deny mixing an exterior paint color that resembles any color of Easter peeps!

We will miss seeing what the forest will look like that the house on the corner has planted in their yard. Now, I had to take a picture of this as proof as I know that no one would believe me that this guy PLANTED 39 PINE TREES IN HIS YARD!! That’s right, all the wooden stakes you see in the picture are marking the place where a pine sapling is growing. We still can’t figure out if this fool is taking the “Going Green” to the extreme, or if this is his creative way of hiding the junk in his driveway; the old bus, the old boat, the old car (it’s like a graveyard for modes of transportation that have become immobile).

Would it be totally inappropriate to leave the following note on his door?:

To Whom It May Concern:
We, your neighbors, would like to applaud your drastic measures to help our air supply by planting so many trees. However, we feel it necessary to inform you that we feel it best for you to focus more of your efforts on getting grass to grow (it’s the green stuff that only covers about 40% of your yard), rather than the 39 pine trees you have chosen to suck all of the water out of the ground. If you insist on nurturing these trees, we must warn you that pine trees are notorious for being breeding grounds for ticks, in which case we can only hope they will eventually suck your dogs dry in order to keep them from barking at every little thing that passes by. Please accept these hedge clippers and bag of St. Augustine seed as a token of our appreciation for you making your house a little less of an eye sore.
In neighborly love,

P.S. Any more "bright ideas" you have will need to be brought before five of your neighbors. If four out of the five neighbors think that your idea is actually indeed a good one, please proceed with your plans. (If any of these neighbors are the proud owners of a FlowBee, please vacate their premises, as their opinions cannot be trusted.)

Yummy...

This morning was so great! I got to actually sleep in until 8:00 before our human alarm demanded some attention. As I headed into the nursery I remembered thinking how odd it was that he lasted that long. Once I got to the crib, I realized why…

Some how Braden’s “Go-Go-Gadget” arms reached out of his crib and got a hold of not only a chew blanket that was in his car seat sitting next to the bed (which was no big deal), but he had also ripped off some car seat instructions and ate half of them. I’m still not even sure where the instructions came from. Either way, I can only assume he ate them because he either- needed more fiber, was trying to learn through osmosis, or was trying to create his own pdf (partly decomposed format) version of the instructions. Hopefully I will see his "finished product" in the next 24 hours.

In other news- Braden said his first word a while back: bye-bye

Here is a video of him saying it. Sorry, but he is a little bored in the beginning. I love how he looks like he is going to say it by "warming up" before he screams out the word. You'll see what I mean.

His second word was Dadda, which I think he said around Mother's Day (insert eye roll here). We are still working on Momma...which I am hoping he will be saying around Father's Day (insert fake smile here).

I Quit…

Now I am not usually one to quit things, but there comes a time when you just have to throw in the towel. My quit list includes:

1. I quit riding the DART train down town. First of all, the homeless man that demanded an ESL lesson from me using words out of the book I was reading freaked me out. There I was in the middle of everyone, reading my own book, when this wee little man comes and sits down by me and starts asking me what words were in my book.
Wee man (while leaning over into my personal space): “Wat dat?”
Me: “The word is ‘climb.’”
Wee man (pointing to another word): “Wat dat?”
Me: “The word is ‘stack.’”
Wee man (not realizing that I am starting to reach for my pepper spray): “Wat
dat?”
Me: “The word is ‘heart.’”
The train stops and the wee man gets off. I am left sitting there looking around to see if anyone saw what had happened. No one even gave me a glance.
My other two experiences that were the last straw were the man that sat by me and told me that I reminded him of strawberry ice cream and the drug deal that went down right in front of me. Seriously, these people are like the freak back woods folk that the media inevitably interviews after their trailer was blown away by a tornado (complete with banjo music). Freaks!

2. I quit volunteering in the G-Town Detention Center (A.K.A. jail). Not because I wanted to, but because I was pregnant with Braden and I had to spend most of my time getting ready for his arrival. When I was volunteering at the PD, I always went in on Saturday mornings to the jail to field phone calls and give out bond information. Hands down it was one of the most interesting positions that I have ever done. I saw the worst of pro football players, high rollers, and even old school mates. I will never forget the day that I undoubtedly ended several marriages. This is one of my juicer stories from my detention center work. It just so happened that G-Town did a prostitution sting and the male population had almost doubled from men who propositioned a female undercover officer named “Candy.” Naturally, all the calls the next morning were from the wives and girlfriends wondering where their significant others were. And yes, it was yours truly that got to break it to the ladies that their man was in the slammer for prostitution. I got every sort of response from, “Okay, thank you” (click), to “Was he givin’ or was he gettin’?”

3. I quit my teaching job. I have to say, I don’t miss the following:
-the 20 million questions
-finding out that a kid in my class has lice and then instinctively wanting to scratch my own

head
-having a student throw up by my desk and on my hands (after trying to get the trash can in

front of their face)
-the crazy parents that think their child can do no wrong
-the feeling like you are doing nothing but herding cats

So today I tried to call and quit the gym. I haven’t been in approximately 11 months, and now that I have Braden and we are trying to move, I really don’t see me going back. It has just been wasted money that we could use for… oh I don’t know… let’s say GAS!!!

As I am calling, I was thinking back to the FRIENDS episode where Chandler tries to quit the gym, but they bring out the hot girl to convince him to stay and he gets all confused and never ends up quitting. So I am on the phone and my “hot girl,” (which is in the form of an India call center) is trying to convince me to keep my membership. I am trying my hardest to cancel, but I can’t understand the person on the other end of the line. After about 10 minutes of having her repeat stuff, turning up the volume on the phone, etc. I hung up the phone and not only didn’t cancel anything, but I believe I had somehow upgraded my membership in the process. What the…? I WANT TO QUIT THE GYM!!! I guess I’ll try again tomorrow…

Life’s a Stage

Okay, I have a few updates to catch everyone up on:

1. I am making progress on loosing the baby weight. I pulled out some of my old black slacks and could not only pull them up, but could fasten them as well! I don’t care that they were as tight as Joan Rivers’ face. I GOT THEM FASTENED! I did a quick little happy dance in celebration (but not one with a lot of movement as I didn’t want to split the rear).

2. The Shooting Down the Street: Thank goodness I volunteer for the police department in my town. Let me take a moment for a little soap box action and say that EVERYONE should MAKE time to do some sort of volunteer work. It not only makes you a better person, but you never know when you will make connections that you can use further on down the line (besides, I have learned so much in the process and have millions of juicy stories). So like I was saying, I have several connections through the police department and found out the nitty gritty on the shooting down the street from me. According to the PD, there was a party that went bad. Evidently the shooter was looking for someone in particular, but didn’t find them. The shots were evidently fired into the air, because no one was hurt. The police did take several people to jail that night (I hope they enjoy those chicken pot pies and Kool-aid while wearing the stylish orange coveralls!).

3. The House that Needed Fixing Up: It sat on the market for 25 days untouched, and of course when we went to inquire about it, there were suddenly five offers on it. John and I took that as a sign that God is not just saying “no,” but “heck no.” We are evidently not meant to be there. There must be something better in store.

4. Our house went on the market Friday. We have not currently found anything and really can’t at this point until we sell our house first. It is impossible for us to take on two house payments. I think we are looking to sell and then move into some sort of temporary housing if necessary while we keep looking. Anyone need any boarders?

So like I said, our house is on the market. In order to make this possible, we have repainted our kitchen and master bathroom and made every minor repair and touch up we possibly could to get ready. We have boxed up most of our “clutter” and staged the house to look more like a show house. We are having to keep the house clean and picked up at all times (which my OCD self is secretly loving!).

We are looking for a nice area with a good school district as our next move we plan on being there a little more permanently. I love G-Town for the most part, but it is time to move somewhere where the local barber shop is not named “Smooth Kutz” and that doesn’t have a palm reader open 24-7 on the corner. I will however miss the excitement of the local Walmart where for awhile car fires were the main attraction (don’t ask) and our new next door neighbors who throw parties on Saturday night complete with blaring accordion music and bounce house (that the 10+ kids jump in until 11:00 at night).

On a side note: Braden is still helping us keep the carpet clean by eating whatever he finds. More about him to come.

New Phases…A.K.A. Let’s Replace One Bad Habit for Another

Well, I believe Braden has entered a new phase called, “Let’s Eat Anything That Looks Interesting…Or Not Interesting…Just Whatever.” The other day I went to lunch with two of my old college roommates and their kids, Jami and her daughter Ava and Lindsey and her daughter Abby. Yes, it was Braden and the ladies (but in order for him not to form a complex, I let him scratch and spit like a man whenever he wanted). We had such a great time. During lunch, Ava was in a cute little spunky mood- so happy, Abby woke us up every so often with a high-pitched, break anything that is glass, scream, and then there was Braden, just chillin’ and hangin’ out.

After lunch we decided to take the kids to the park. Jami, Lindsey and I were sitting around talking when Braden starts choking. I whack him on the back a few times and he seemed to be okay, but was still drooling a whole lot. He coughed and coughed, so finally I reached my finger down his throat to clear whatever it was that he was eating. I didn’t find anything, but he seemed to be okay after that, so I let him continue playing while keeping a close eye on him (and I do mean closer than before, as I obviously let something slip by). About 2 minutes later, Braden sneezes out a piece of grass that seemed to have caused all the fuss. I still don’t know if it came out of his nose, or his mouth, but either way, it exited an orifice.

And again today, the taste testing continued. I am at home working when I look over to see Braden face down on the floor licking and trying to eat the fuzz on the carpet (insert eye roll here). Good grief! I pick him up and put him in the pack and play in order to get him off the floor. A few minutes later he is dead silent (which as we all know, means he is up to no good). I walk over and peek over the side to find him with one sock off and eating the sock fuzz in between his toes. I think I have birthed a goat. This kid should be the poster child for any pharmaceutical company wanting to promote a baby antacid.

Good bye old “screaming fits”… Hello “What the heck is in your mouth?”
Here are two videos that crack me up. What a character!
Take One:

Take Two:

Things I am Wondering:

So I have been a little delinquent on the blogging lately. I can only tell you that I have had a full plate that has run over onto the table and is starting to drip onto the floor… I think it best to just list a few things that I have been worrying about in hopes that this will magically be a therapeutic way to relieve my stress and clear up my broken out face!

1. I am officially claiming the phrase “I’m living on the edge.” I am still nursing Braden who I just the other day discovered has two more teeth coming in. This will now bring the total up to eight teeth. Now this is a touchy subject, as you can imagine, as I have been bitten a hand full of times. Because it has been drilled into my head that I will be a terrible mother if I don’t nurse my baby until he is a year old, I am totally feeling guilty for wanting to stop. Like, so guilty that I see myself being personally escorted by Satan himself down to his deep realm where he pulls out the seat of his right hand position at his fiery table if I don’t push through and tough it out to the very end. Maybe I could call my old orthodontist and see if he can fashion some sort of baby mouth guard...

2. Is it possible to buy a Highland Park house on a ghetto budget? The house hunting is not going so well. Anything we can afford is still in the same type neighborhood that we are already in. And I swear, if John yells out “hey babe, I found us a house,” and then follows it up with a picture of a $500K home, I am libel to physically make him realize how unfunny that joke is really getting. I have also heard the comment, “that is not far out of our reach,” but unfortunately I do not wish to make a diet out of bean and rice and cornbread for every meal. Maybe I can sell a kidney…Forget my ride, anyone want to “Pimp my Bank Account?”

3. Why are teachers not seen as smart and professional people? I ask this question because of an email I received the other day from an acquaintance. First, let me back up and give a little back ground on my situation. I spent six years in with the school system, which was in fact seven years too long for me (I throw in my semester of student teaching for good measure). When I left my teaching position, I made it very clear to nearly everyone I knew that I was looking for a job, anything that was not teaching or school related. After several months of looking, I finally landed a position at one of the “Big Four” accounting firms located downtown. I have to say that I basically smooth talked my way into the position which was followed up with a good word from a friend of mine that worked there and BAM!, I was in a cube with the rest of Corporate America. Now, on with the rest of the story… so, this acquaintance I spoke of emails me at my old school address in which I reply that my contact information had changed and included my new work email address. Within an hour, this dude emails me back wishing me and my family well and to call him if I am ever looking for a job! What the heck?!?! This guy was one of the ones that knew I was looking for a job when I was hanging up my denim dress and white Keds (insert snide smirk here). News flash- just because I have a “firm” signature on my email doesn’t mean that I received a lobotomy- teachers are smart people too!

Poopy Morning…

So I’m getting ready this morning while Braden was in his Exersaucer playing. He starts carrying on and on until he is all out screaming. I can smell poop at this point (which is nothing new, something about the Exersaucer in the morning gets him too excited I guess). I finish putting the curlers in my hair and walk over and pick him up to change his diaper. As I turn to leave to room, I suddenly feel something cold and squishy land on my big toe. [Pause for mental picture and a few gags…] That’s right, poop lands on my foot. Not only is it on my foot, but I turn around to find it on the carpet and obviously all on the inside of his pants, EVERYWHERE!

I quickly switch Braden to a Superman position type hold (so that no more escapes his pants), and walk on my heel to the bathroom for some toilet paper to get cleaned up in order to walk to the other side of the house where his room is.

Once there I start the process of stripping his clothes off and cleaning him up when Braden adamantly starts to twist and turn so that he can be on his stomach [insert mind cursing here]. Now by this time, he is partly in the air as I am holding one leg up, while he is twisting, and I am trying to clean him off with the other hand. At this point, I am praying that a third appendage will grow out of my body to help hold him down, or wipe the beads of sweat that are forming on my forehead, or something. Poop is now on the changing pad, his socks, his arm, and his neck.

After about 20 minutes of cleaning him, changing everything, and starting a load of laundry, I was late logging on for work, and I still had poop in the crevasse of my toe nail [insert eye roll here].

We put a man on the moon people! Can we not make diapers to hold the crap in? Can I get an amen!?! Will it actually have to come to this?

And just in case you are wondering, my day has not gotten any better. Prime example: I need to go to the store, no food in the house. I found two stale tortillas, some ranch style beans, and some cheese to make burritos. Because the tortillas were stale, I ran some water over them and popped them in the microwave to soften them up. Word to the wise, that doesn’t work…

Are Panic Attacks My New Weight Loss Program?

So John and I believe we have found a house (ALREADY) that we think we should take a chance on. It comes with major pros and cons and the thought of each sends me to the bathroom with irritable bowels every time (sorry if that was too much information). I seriously believe I have dropped two or three pounds over the thought of moving.

So help me decide. One of my friends and I went over to take a peek at the inside. It will need A LOT of repair work and updating, which is why it is being sold for half of what it appraises for. She kept me focused by telling me to “keep the long run in mind.” Because as we all know, our little ones are growing up SO fast and school will be right around the corner. John and I are looking for something long term. She also reminded me that any money you put into a house is an investment. If we can get it updated, we can easily sell it for twice what we bought it for, and mostly because of its location.

[Stomach turning… pause for restroom break]

So here are the Pros and Cons:
Pros:
4 bedrooms (one room could be an office and therefore a tax write off since I work from home)
3 bathrooms
2 living areas
2 dining areas (my china could come out of boxes!)
1 sunroom
Twice as big as our house now
1 story (for our electric bill’s sake)
Great trees
TONS of storage (I could actually shop as SAMS)
Good schools
Field in front of house for kid(s) to play, park close by
Lot is about .5 an acre big
In our price range (which is not very much)
No registered sex offenders close by
Some wood floors that are beautiful
House is located at the end of the street where it dead ends so it is very quite and not busy
GREAT LOCATION, GREAT LOCATION, GREAT LOCATION (behind the house are a bunch of $300K, $400K and $500K+ homes)

[Pause for restroom break.]

Cons:
I am impatient and like for things to be done quickly and all at once (SOOOO not good when it comes to this sort of thing)
Repaint entire interior of house (not new to me, heck I was repainting my hallways and three other rooms when I was pregnant with Braden!- he has 10 fingers and 10 toes and none of them are webbed, so it was fine)
Repainted part of exterior (but we have access to a paint gun)
Replace carpet
Foundation repaired (one quote we found in the house history paperwork was $8,500-ouch!)
All cabinets would have to be restained or painted (and there are a million of them)
Wallpaper in kitchen would have to be stripped and walls retextured
Some windows replaced
New appliances (stove, microwave, maybe ovens- there are two)
New fixtures and hardware
Most all closet doors would have to be replaced
Further commute (but only by 5 or 10 minutes)

An inspector is obviously needed for further review of the property.

Needless to say, John and I are in hyper overdrive with repairs to our house (patching cracks from getting our foundation repaired, repainting the patched cracks, restretching the carpet that was ripped up from the interior piers that were inserted). We have also been made aware that we might have to live somewhere else temporarily in order for our house to sell and make the major repairs on the new house (if we decide on this particular one) that need to be made before furniture and “stuff” gets in the way. Anyone need some roomies?

[Stomach turning, but no restroom break needed quite yet.]

By the way, if you owe us a favor and we end up getting this house, you can expect us to come soliciting your help come time. If you don’t owe us, but expect our help at some point, we will have a sign up sheet for those that come and help, names on that list will take first priority, all others are subject to a lame excuse. Just have your paintbrush and work clothes ready!!!

Big life decisions like this are never my forte, especially when I feel so inexperienced- HELP!!!

Sleep Tight?

So nothing puts me to sleep quite like the sounds of crickets chirping, a light rain on a warm summer night, or the sound of bullets hitting the pavement after someone popping off a round.

No wait... that last one is what actually interrupted my Letterman viewing last night. That's right, I am in bed about to fall asleep to Letterman's political jokes when I hear all of you know what break loose down the street (five houses down to be exact). There was screaming and hollering among 20-30 kids and then the sound of about 10 shots being fired (who knows where).

Now I have been saying for quite some time that our neighborhood is going downhill- FAST. This particular incident follows two others that have happened- one being our mailbox broken off at the base and thrown into our front yard and the second was our house being paintballed (shout out Vandals!). While those two previous acts were relatively harmless, never mind one of them is a Federal offense, I am not one to run away from my problems, that is until my problems include a metal barrel and lead balls. I'll count this as strike three, I'm out.

Naturally I have added to my To Do list: call the Realtor.

On a lighter note, John and I have be singing the infamous Robert Matthew Van Winkle (a.k.a. Vanilla Ice) song- "Ice, Ice Baby" with the appropriate verse about "gun shots ring out like a bell" over and over again. Try to get that out of your head after something like that.

Haircut Video

Here's the haircut video- sorry but I had some technical difficulties along the way. As you will be able to tell, I don't wish to have "Big Darrell's" job at all. The whole time I just kept praying that Braden would hold still so that Big D wouldn't take an ear off! And no, Braden is not sitting in one of those bear-looking circus seats, that's John (a.k.a. Grizzly Adams).

I love the part where Big D tries to console my screaming baby, only for Braden to look at him like, "you gotta be kidding me."

Trump Jr.

As you will be able to tell in the pictures below, Braden was due for a MAJOR hair cut. Here are some clues that I picked up on that made me realize this probably should have been done weeks ago:
1. I had to comb out tangles after bath time.
2. Braden would shake his head from side to side to try to get the hair out of his eyes.
3. Braden's hair length was getting long enough to donate to Locks of Love.
4. People were referring to my child as Donald Trump.
5. I was referring to my child as Donald Trump.

Since B was turning out to be our little Junior Trump, it was time to call in the hair cutting expertise of "Big Darrell." Braden started out doing okay, but soon realized "Big Darrell" was not just standing there to be looked at.

We tried to tell him that he wasn't Sampson, but he wouldn't listen.

By the way, at the 9 month well visit the Dr. told us his eyes would stay blue (yeah!!). We now have a nice and well groomed little one... for now. I told John that Braden needed to see him get his cut first, but that trick didn't seem to work. We also have video of this "first" experience, but I'll have to find it and post it later tonight (hopefully). The best is yet to come...