We live in a neighborhood with a homeowners association, and, somehow, I'm a board member. I signed up, and they actually let me do it, in spite of myself. Anywho, I'm the secretary. How fitting, one may (but probably doesn't) think. It's not easy, though, as I have to be at least a touch professional when writing letters to send out to all our neighbors. I just got done typing up the letter we send out after our big, yearly meeting. Everyone cares soooooo much that like 3 households show up, but, alas, I try to fill in everyone who couldn't be bothered to show up, anyway. I know, I'm selfless like that. This year, I decided I would put the letter I actually want to send here. It's NOT the one I send out, but it should be.
Dear neighbors,
We had a meeting. You were told about it, but you didn't come, so I guess the date and time don't really matter. You didn't come last year or the year before that, either. So, we can never actually vote and get anything done. So here is what we talked about without you.
A. You're not paying your dues. Those of us who are, super appreciate your total lack of consideration for the rest of us who need to pay more to make up for your failure to cough up what is less than a trip to McDonalds for 2 people. We're trying to get creative about how to get you to pay. I would love the "dog shaming" approach, where we put up the amount you owe on your front lawn and take a picture of it and put it all over social media, but the more rational board members think that would not be "nice" and perhaps is illegal.
B. We could use some more board members. I'm getting a little suspicious that it might be to make up for the fact that I was allowed on the board. (See dog shaming idea.) Whatever the reason, we are looking for other folks to feel our frustration right along with us.
C. Yes we are keeping the playground, stop hating children's happiness. Why don't you just stand out front and kick some puppies while kids walk home from the bus? Maybe hold "Santa is a fake!" picket signs up while they ride their tricycles around the neighborhood.
D. Foreclosures are way down. I know, Fox News would have you believe otherwise, but it's true. We have some actual numbers. Arithmetic.
E. Don't be an asshole. If it's too early or too late, turn your music down. Kids playing next door? Maybe you could turn the gangsta rap down so my kids stop asking "What that bitch did to 'get it.'" Also, you do not live on a NASCAR track. Perhaps, you can try to do a more reasonable speed. I believe there are suggestions posted around the road on big white signs, if you can't figure out what a safe speed is.
F. Everyone hates the big trees. Everyone. I hate them, you hate them. No one wants them to land on their house.
G. You can't park on a corner... in your giant pickup truck... and especially not all 47 of your giant, rusty pick up trucks. I know you think they are aesthetically pleasing to prospective home buyers, but they are a hazard that we can't see around to pull out.
H. The golf course is a hot mess. It's not ours. We tried to make it go to rehab, but it said "No no no!"
I. Join us on Facebook. Thanks to the dude that made that page happen. I couldn't do it myself, because I suck at those things, and I have not even been writing in my own blog lately. But that dude did it. Sweet.
J. P.S. No one ever mentions it, but you could probably pick up your dog shit. It's disgusting. We do not live in a toilet. We are putting Paris to shame, folks.
Nailed it!
Saturday, May 18, 2013
Friday, April 12, 2013
She returns...
I don't feel like going into too much detail about it on here yet, but I've been away for awhile thanks to a surgery that did not go well and ended in finding out I'm deathly allergic to at least 3 things, an emergency trip to the hospital for 4 days, and then trying to recover from the horrendous reaction from that on top of recovering from surgery. The meds required for the allergy slow the recovery from surgery greatly, and so I have not felt like myself for quite some time. I did not feel like I had anything to offer the blog, and did not feel great enough to make light of things in my usual fashion. But, tonight a post on facebook (thanks to this boring, violent, movie in a language that is not one I'm fluent in) felt blog-ish to me, and I thought I'd post it here. Maybe this will help me get back to my old self a little more. (I returned to my champion shopping marathons this week, so the blog could be next!)
Saturday, February 23, 2013
Lord of the Flies... suburb style
In about a week and a half I'll be having some surgery (I'll spare you a long explanation here), and so I have started prepping my husband and sons for Momma being out of commission for a little while. I am pretty good at preparing for times when we'll be away from the kids, and we leave them with family. I have a system that involves a printed schedule, sleep and meal time info, and another page that has other important info on it like where the first aid kits are... yes, kits. We have two boys, so more than one boo boo box comes in handy. I have been treating this like I do when we go away for a couple days... only the schedule and helpful hints are for my husband. Tonight I thought we'd review the schedule, and if he had any questions we could go over them. I am trying to make it so everything goes smoothly.
So I run through when they get up, get them dressed, feed them, school time, naptime, bedtime... etc. I left no details unaccounted for, such as "Put him down for a nap in comfortable clothes", so our 2 year old didn't have to try to sleep in jeans and a hoodie or something. I'm very specific. I guess my husband had his own ideas....
Me So, that's how our day goes. If it's important, it's on this list. Do you think it's helpful?
Him Okay, sure. That's great. BUT here's how it's going to go down.... Do you see that auto feeder for the cats over there? I'm going to go to the pet store and buy several more. I'm going to fill some with water, some with cat crunchies, and fill the littler box up to the top with litter so they can bury about 2 weeks of poop in it. Then, I'm going to take a few more auto feeders, fill one with ice and milk and the other with cooked hot dog chunks. That should take care of the kids. Oh, and by the way, do not worry about the little one going down for a nap in comfortable clothes. I'll just keep him in the same comfy pajamas for 2 weeks. Then I won't have to worry about if his clothes are comfy enough, or if I get him dressed in time.
Me I feel so much better knowing you have a plan. A terrible plan, but at least you've thought it through.
So I run through when they get up, get them dressed, feed them, school time, naptime, bedtime... etc. I left no details unaccounted for, such as "Put him down for a nap in comfortable clothes", so our 2 year old didn't have to try to sleep in jeans and a hoodie or something. I'm very specific. I guess my husband had his own ideas....
Me So, that's how our day goes. If it's important, it's on this list. Do you think it's helpful?
Him Okay, sure. That's great. BUT here's how it's going to go down.... Do you see that auto feeder for the cats over there? I'm going to go to the pet store and buy several more. I'm going to fill some with water, some with cat crunchies, and fill the littler box up to the top with litter so they can bury about 2 weeks of poop in it. Then, I'm going to take a few more auto feeders, fill one with ice and milk and the other with cooked hot dog chunks. That should take care of the kids. Oh, and by the way, do not worry about the little one going down for a nap in comfortable clothes. I'll just keep him in the same comfy pajamas for 2 weeks. Then I won't have to worry about if his clothes are comfy enough, or if I get him dressed in time.
Me I feel so much better knowing you have a plan. A terrible plan, but at least you've thought it through.
Thursday, February 14, 2013
Valent...I Give Up Day!
Hating holidays is my husband's very favorite hobby. He puts a ton of effort into hating them as hard as any one person can. So, I don't expect TOO much out of him, but everything about this day joined forces with him to tank Valentine's Day in some of the most unusual, comical, and terrible (sometimes simultaneously) ways. Move along if this has been the most magical day of your life or you are one public urination story away from giving up on humanity.
February 14, 2013 started with a beautiful 2 hour snow delay for school, which my 5 year old subconsciously detected. He woke up before my alarm went off, and so cheerfully and LOUDLY announced "I know it's dark out, but I am WIDE AWAKE!!" Hot dog.
After fighting with the above 5 year old to get dressed, we finally had it together enough to read stories together. I gave them the books I got them for Valentine's Day early, since we had extra time together. That was nice. The refusal to put on his coat to get in the car, not so nice.
My 2 year old got a belly ache, and subsequently exploded while he was supposed to be napping and I was on the phone with my girl, D, from almost a country away. Needless to say that ended the call and prevented the nap altogether. I will add that he is feeling better, and was happy all day, even with the belly ache.
We picked up my 5 year old from school, and he had a successfully gluten free day with the support of his teacher and some planning on my part. (Yeah, I sent in all his party snacks to match what they were having, and even helped provide an ingredient in the treat mix his teacher was making to give each of the kids in their valentines, lots of work but worth it!) Then, we noticed all the candy his friends gave with their valentines contained copious amounts of Red 40, which he cannot have without turning into Satan. Even he realizes it makes him feel terrible and out of control. I was quick to sneak most of it away before he noticed it, but he spotted a red ring pop. He begged me for it. I told him I'd find something like it that wasn't red, and I was so sorry. But he kept begging.... "I promise I won't eat it, Mommy! I won't even give it one lick. I'll just smell it." It was so sad, and I didn't want him to torture himself with it, but I didn't want to take it from him and make him cry, either. Dietary restrictions SUCK.
Then I get the notice that my grandparents were in an accident, were in the hospital, and their car is likely totaled. (Currently one is home and one is still there, but just for observation. They should be fine, thank goodness.)
I made dinner for the family plus my sister, who had come over to watch our kids while we went out. After dinner, we gave the boys their little gifts. They instantly swap lego sets, and then I give my husband the gifts I had for him. He promptly leaves the room, and then returns with the SAME BOX OF CHOCOLATES I JUST GAVE HIM, and a card. He regifted the gift I just gave him... back to me! He also gave me a snickers bar from the pantry. Planning ahead is not his strong suit.
After telling him I was going to take a pic of my snickers bar to put up on FB with my friend's pictures of their beautiful flowers, purses, chocolates, and jewelry.... we headed out for our date. To our accountant. To do our taxes. Yes, taxes. My husband made the appointment for Valentine's night.
On the drive over, I spotted a man perhaps having a stroke or seizure, as he seemed to violently lose footing and run into the wall next to him as he was walking down the sidewalk. Luckily my fears were quickly squashed when we saw him just turn to pee on the wall, and himself, as he was wearing overalls. 'Cause if there was one thing missing from this day of red hot romance, it was watching steam come off of pee in the winter night as some drunk urinates in public, right around the corner from some couples all dressed up and holding hands as they strolled down the street in looooooove.
We made it to our tax appointment, mostly unscathed, just to find we were locked out of the building. All the other offices are abandoned at that time of night, and it's a dark, around the back of the building parking lot, so the creep-out factor was high. We call, no answer, knock on the window, no answer.... the lights were on, though. So we eventually head home, when our accountant calls, and tells us someone else locked the doors. So, at least we still got our taxes done?
So, there you have it! Our first Valentine's Day when I got a flat tire, and we ended up eating at Long John Silvers while it was replaced next door at the tire place, was a far better experience than today. However, they both have one thing in common.... I will never forget either of them.
And.... as my sister pointed out.... at least I didn't get dumped.
February 14, 2013 started with a beautiful 2 hour snow delay for school, which my 5 year old subconsciously detected. He woke up before my alarm went off, and so cheerfully and LOUDLY announced "I know it's dark out, but I am WIDE AWAKE!!" Hot dog.
After fighting with the above 5 year old to get dressed, we finally had it together enough to read stories together. I gave them the books I got them for Valentine's Day early, since we had extra time together. That was nice. The refusal to put on his coat to get in the car, not so nice.
My 2 year old got a belly ache, and subsequently exploded while he was supposed to be napping and I was on the phone with my girl, D, from almost a country away. Needless to say that ended the call and prevented the nap altogether. I will add that he is feeling better, and was happy all day, even with the belly ache.
We picked up my 5 year old from school, and he had a successfully gluten free day with the support of his teacher and some planning on my part. (Yeah, I sent in all his party snacks to match what they were having, and even helped provide an ingredient in the treat mix his teacher was making to give each of the kids in their valentines, lots of work but worth it!) Then, we noticed all the candy his friends gave with their valentines contained copious amounts of Red 40, which he cannot have without turning into Satan. Even he realizes it makes him feel terrible and out of control. I was quick to sneak most of it away before he noticed it, but he spotted a red ring pop. He begged me for it. I told him I'd find something like it that wasn't red, and I was so sorry. But he kept begging.... "I promise I won't eat it, Mommy! I won't even give it one lick. I'll just smell it." It was so sad, and I didn't want him to torture himself with it, but I didn't want to take it from him and make him cry, either. Dietary restrictions SUCK.
Then I get the notice that my grandparents were in an accident, were in the hospital, and their car is likely totaled. (Currently one is home and one is still there, but just for observation. They should be fine, thank goodness.)
I made dinner for the family plus my sister, who had come over to watch our kids while we went out. After dinner, we gave the boys their little gifts. They instantly swap lego sets, and then I give my husband the gifts I had for him. He promptly leaves the room, and then returns with the SAME BOX OF CHOCOLATES I JUST GAVE HIM, and a card. He regifted the gift I just gave him... back to me! He also gave me a snickers bar from the pantry. Planning ahead is not his strong suit.
After telling him I was going to take a pic of my snickers bar to put up on FB with my friend's pictures of their beautiful flowers, purses, chocolates, and jewelry.... we headed out for our date. To our accountant. To do our taxes. Yes, taxes. My husband made the appointment for Valentine's night.
On the drive over, I spotted a man perhaps having a stroke or seizure, as he seemed to violently lose footing and run into the wall next to him as he was walking down the sidewalk. Luckily my fears were quickly squashed when we saw him just turn to pee on the wall, and himself, as he was wearing overalls. 'Cause if there was one thing missing from this day of red hot romance, it was watching steam come off of pee in the winter night as some drunk urinates in public, right around the corner from some couples all dressed up and holding hands as they strolled down the street in looooooove.
We made it to our tax appointment, mostly unscathed, just to find we were locked out of the building. All the other offices are abandoned at that time of night, and it's a dark, around the back of the building parking lot, so the creep-out factor was high. We call, no answer, knock on the window, no answer.... the lights were on, though. So we eventually head home, when our accountant calls, and tells us someone else locked the doors. So, at least we still got our taxes done?
So, there you have it! Our first Valentine's Day when I got a flat tire, and we ended up eating at Long John Silvers while it was replaced next door at the tire place, was a far better experience than today. However, they both have one thing in common.... I will never forget either of them.
And.... as my sister pointed out.... at least I didn't get dumped.
Sunday, February 10, 2013
And this is why we are together...
My husband and I, 2 conversations that took place within hours of each other...
Me I think I'm going to try that natural food store in town. You know, the one where everyone says the man who works there is mean.
Him Why would you do that? Everyone says he's horrible to deal with.
Me Who is this "everyone"? I'm not afraid of a natural food salesman. He can be mean all he wants, as long as he has some yummy gluten free selections.
Him No, I think it's more like a raw foods store. Like organic things. Think "Here's a clump of dried kale for you to snack on, and maybe break a tooth." Not "Try our tasty gluten free treats!"
Me No, there was an entire write up about that place in the paper. They even have gluten free shampoo.
Him Wouldn't it be easier for these people to stop eating their shampoo? It seems a little extreme to go all the way to a natural foods store to get your nom on with shampoo.
Me They aren't eating it!
Him Who puts wheat in shampoo, anyway?!
Me I don't know! I'm not the maker of shampoos! I don't know the recipe. Pantene has vitamins,that's all I know.
Him Who are all these pica celiac disease patients living here demanding gluten free shampoo appetizers?
Me I think we're done here. I'd rather talk to the grumpy nature food man.
3 hours later
Me *singing the old dunkaroos commercial while doing laundry*
Him Here's my wife. She knows everything from washing the gray out of your hair, checking up on your baby doll, and snacking on the go with a bad Australian accent.
Me *singing* I'll make you all better now, Baby Check Up... Mommy knows how, Baby Check Up!
Him The inside of your mind must be a, hmmmmmmmmmmm, special place.
There are days where I cannot tell who is losing more touch with reality. That may be why we are together. We probably couldn't function very long around people who had more of a handle on the world around them. *le sigh*
Me I think I'm going to try that natural food store in town. You know, the one where everyone says the man who works there is mean.
Him Why would you do that? Everyone says he's horrible to deal with.
Me Who is this "everyone"? I'm not afraid of a natural food salesman. He can be mean all he wants, as long as he has some yummy gluten free selections.
Him No, I think it's more like a raw foods store. Like organic things. Think "Here's a clump of dried kale for you to snack on, and maybe break a tooth." Not "Try our tasty gluten free treats!"
Me No, there was an entire write up about that place in the paper. They even have gluten free shampoo.
Him Wouldn't it be easier for these people to stop eating their shampoo? It seems a little extreme to go all the way to a natural foods store to get your nom on with shampoo.
Me They aren't eating it!
Him Who puts wheat in shampoo, anyway?!
Me I don't know! I'm not the maker of shampoos! I don't know the recipe. Pantene has vitamins,that's all I know.
Him Who are all these pica celiac disease patients living here demanding gluten free shampoo appetizers?
Me I think we're done here. I'd rather talk to the grumpy nature food man.
3 hours later
Me *singing the old dunkaroos commercial while doing laundry*
Him Here's my wife. She knows everything from washing the gray out of your hair, checking up on your baby doll, and snacking on the go with a bad Australian accent.
Me *singing* I'll make you all better now, Baby Check Up... Mommy knows how, Baby Check Up!
Him The inside of your mind must be a, hmmmmmmmmmmm, special place.
There are days where I cannot tell who is losing more touch with reality. That may be why we are together. We probably couldn't function very long around people who had more of a handle on the world around them. *le sigh*
Thursday, February 7, 2013
Do you remember YOUR monkey?
My 5 year old son came home from school today, asking how Earth was built. We started telling him about the big bang, and particles, and how there is more going on in space than he had yet realized. He was intrigued. He asked how the dinosaurs got here, and so we jumped into microorganisms and evolution. How things from the sea moved to land... Well, apparently we have discussed evolution before and this jogged his memory. We hadn't even gotten to humans yet when he asked:
5: People used to be monkeys. Mom, did you come from a monkey? Do you remember your monkey?
Me: Well... kinda. You are right, humans came from monkeys. My monkey was Nana. I think it's important to note that Nana is actually not a monkey, and she is a human. I came from Nana.
5: Oh. Did she come from a monkey?
Me: Honey, none of the monkeys you see today just had human babies. None of the humans you see had monkey mommies. Although....
5: Well when did monkeys start having human babies?
Me: Never, evolution happens very very slowly. Like monkeys started ...
5: To stand up! Monkeys learned to stand up.
Me: Yes, over time monkeys changed to adjust to the world around them, and developed traits that would help them live longer, and be stronger in their environment. To put it simply. But, it goes very slow, and you cannot see it happen right before your eyes. It happens over lifetimes.
5: Oh, so you didn't come from a monkey.
Me: Hmmm, now that you mention it, Nana does like bananas, and she can be pret-ty silly.
5: But she's no monkey.
Then, I suppose finding out that monkeys don't have human babies was a bummer, and he ran off to play hotwheels instead of discussing evolution with his boring, non-monkey mother. Which is probably for the best, because we were getting awfully close to Mommy having to break out Google to continue this discussion. (What did our parents do without Google?!)
5: People used to be monkeys. Mom, did you come from a monkey? Do you remember your monkey?
Me: Well... kinda. You are right, humans came from monkeys. My monkey was Nana. I think it's important to note that Nana is actually not a monkey, and she is a human. I came from Nana.
5: Oh. Did she come from a monkey?
Me: Honey, none of the monkeys you see today just had human babies. None of the humans you see had monkey mommies. Although....
5: Well when did monkeys start having human babies?
Me: Never, evolution happens very very slowly. Like monkeys started ...
5: To stand up! Monkeys learned to stand up.
Me: Yes, over time monkeys changed to adjust to the world around them, and developed traits that would help them live longer, and be stronger in their environment. To put it simply. But, it goes very slow, and you cannot see it happen right before your eyes. It happens over lifetimes.
5: Oh, so you didn't come from a monkey.
Me: Hmmm, now that you mention it, Nana does like bananas, and she can be pret-ty silly.
5: But she's no monkey.
Then, I suppose finding out that monkeys don't have human babies was a bummer, and he ran off to play hotwheels instead of discussing evolution with his boring, non-monkey mother. Which is probably for the best, because we were getting awfully close to Mommy having to break out Google to continue this discussion. (What did our parents do without Google?!)
Sunday, February 3, 2013
Live Blogging the Super Bowl
I'm live blogging the Super Bowl.
Well, of course after I went and got groceries while the game started and everyone else was watching football. #LikebeingJewishonChristmasDay
I like football as much as the next girl... unless the next girl likes football... then no.
It's okay, my husband doesn't watch football either. It might have something to do with the "xxxLiveNudeGirlxxx!!!" sign I hang on the door during games. ;)
Just kidding about that last one, kinda. I mean, though, c'mon... men in spandex chasing each other over a ball or an actual woman? Try it, ladies.
Did Ray Lewis consider stabbing the other team? It would at least slow them down.
So, my husband hears Beyonce and hollers from the other room "Is it halftime?" I tried to convince him it wasn't... it was just the teams pants off dance off. Then, for some reason not believing me, he comes in and asks "Is that Shakira or Beyonce?" I guess more than one gal has hips that don't lie.
Now we are playing "What the hell is this commercial advertising?!" Oprah's got a new show? Are they gonna say to everyone at the super bowl... look under your seat... you're all getting cars? Joining the military? Is there an Oprah movie coming out?! Quick, look under our couch, maybe we got a new car, too!
Oh, wait! My husband is actually cheering! Of course, it's for the 2 Broke Girls commercial...
Oh, instant replay... of the 2 Broke Girls commercial.
And the game just turned into The Daily Show with Jon Stewart, from our DVR. He's looking strong tonight. I think he'll win this one.
#SpoilerAlert Jon is opting to not wear the spandex or helmet. No matter how much I beg.
We are now officially out of our Super Bowl appetizers. And by that I mean I just finished eating this strawberry cottage double.
Update: There was no car from Oprah under my seat, but there was a lego and a crayon.
Ugh, my sister missed the 2 Broke Girls commercial because she is doing the Super Bowl wrong. Do your laundry while they are throwing that ball around, for Pete's sake, not during the good parts.
I hear the lights went out. Someone playing the "Ray Lewis Crying Drinking Game" probably just passed out against the light switch.
They just advertised football during football. Maybe they could put a little mini super bowl in the corner of the screen so we can watch a football commercial advertising football during the football game while we watch a football commercial advertising football during the football game, just like the mini facebook in the corner of facebook idea... cause you CANNOT get enough football.
Oh now they are gonna talk about football since we can't see football with the lights out. Aaaaaand back to Jon Stewart....
Well, of course after I went and got groceries while the game started and everyone else was watching football. #LikebeingJewishonChristmasDay
I like football as much as the next girl... unless the next girl likes football... then no.
It's okay, my husband doesn't watch football either. It might have something to do with the "xxxLiveNudeGirlxxx!!!" sign I hang on the door during games. ;)
Just kidding about that last one, kinda. I mean, though, c'mon... men in spandex chasing each other over a ball or an actual woman? Try it, ladies.
Did Ray Lewis consider stabbing the other team? It would at least slow them down.
So, my husband hears Beyonce and hollers from the other room "Is it halftime?" I tried to convince him it wasn't... it was just the teams pants off dance off. Then, for some reason not believing me, he comes in and asks "Is that Shakira or Beyonce?" I guess more than one gal has hips that don't lie.
Now we are playing "What the hell is this commercial advertising?!" Oprah's got a new show? Are they gonna say to everyone at the super bowl... look under your seat... you're all getting cars? Joining the military? Is there an Oprah movie coming out?! Quick, look under our couch, maybe we got a new car, too!
Oh, wait! My husband is actually cheering! Of course, it's for the 2 Broke Girls commercial...
Oh, instant replay... of the 2 Broke Girls commercial.
And the game just turned into The Daily Show with Jon Stewart, from our DVR. He's looking strong tonight. I think he'll win this one.
#SpoilerAlert Jon is opting to not wear the spandex or helmet. No matter how much I beg.
We are now officially out of our Super Bowl appetizers. And by that I mean I just finished eating this strawberry cottage double.
Update: There was no car from Oprah under my seat, but there was a lego and a crayon.
Ugh, my sister missed the 2 Broke Girls commercial because she is doing the Super Bowl wrong. Do your laundry while they are throwing that ball around, for Pete's sake, not during the good parts.
I hear the lights went out. Someone playing the "Ray Lewis Crying Drinking Game" probably just passed out against the light switch.
They just advertised football during football. Maybe they could put a little mini super bowl in the corner of the screen so we can watch a football commercial advertising football during the football game while we watch a football commercial advertising football during the football game, just like the mini facebook in the corner of facebook idea... cause you CANNOT get enough football.
Oh now they are gonna talk about football since we can't see football with the lights out. Aaaaaand back to Jon Stewart....
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