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!