I have a neighbor who is friendly, but we are not friends. We just don't have much in common...other than she is my age and has a son Andrew's age and a daughter Lily's age.
She watches Shadow for me when we go away for a night or two. I don't ask her to do it much...I think she's done it three times in the 3 years she's lived here. She is fabulous to Shadow...walking her multiple times a day and giving her lots of attention. I am very grateful to her for that. It is hard to find people to watch your pets, much less treat them with kindness and attention.
We went camping over Labor Day weekend, one of those experiences over the last 3 months that should have been a great blogging post...if I had been blogging. Anyhoo, I asked my neighbor to feed and let Shadow out, since we were only going to be gone about 36 hours. We came back from the trip, I thanked my neighbor, end of story.
Until a few weeks ago, when I was standing at the bus stop. I don't go to the morning bus stop much...I usually just send Lily and Andrew by themselves. But Lily had requested that I walk down with her, so there I was. And this neighbor was there as well (she doesn't usually do the afternoon bus stop...so we usually don't see each other). We were going through the standard "neighbor with similar aged children" small talk...how does your child like school, what is the teacher like, can you believe the homework, etc etc. I mentioned that I was frustrated once again by Andrew's lack of organizational skills. I mentioned that although I am not the most organized at home, at school I had always been meticulous.
She jumps in eagerly, "Oh, I know. Your house is just a mess. I almost couldn't stand it when I went in to take care of Shadow. My husband convinced me to not straighten up, because he thought there may be some reason for all the mess. ha ha ha."
I was a bit taken a back at her boldness, and cringing at the realization of my worst nightmare...that people are truly bothered by my house. But I laughed it off, telling her that I had actually cleaned up before leaving the house for camping, and that a little clutter just doesn't bother me.
She continued exclaiming about the state of my house, until I successfully steered the conversation elsewhere.
I stewed on this for a while. I could have countered with a smart alack comment about how her children are often unsupervised, about how I discovered she had left my children unattended while they were playing at her house...and they were only 4 and 7 at the time. How I wouldn't smoke in front of my children. Etc. etc. But I can't say that. I'm her neighbor. We're going to be co-existing for a long time. You just don't go there...except that she had.
Fast forward about a week. I'm walking out to afternoon pick-up. She comes out of her house and shoves a paper in my hand...asking me to fill out a letter of recommendation for a job she's applying for. When I express dismay at this as I have no idea about her nursing skills, she reassures me that it can be very generic and the lady told her to just give it to a few neighbors. I begin filling it out and joke that giving it to a neighbor could be dangerous...what if a nosy neighbor commented on you not pulling your weeds or something. She laughed and said, "Yah, it's good thing I'm not doing one for you, because I'd have to tell them about your house."
I told her enough was enough, and she went on a little bit to another neighbor that had walked up about how shocked she was at the state of my house.
Let me be clear. I am not, by any stretch of the imagination, the worst housekeeper out there. My house is not the most disgusting that you will go into. I think it is well within the normal range of messiness. I clean my kitchen daily, my bathrooms enough. The clutter builds, but my house is not gross. I joke about my lack of housekeeping skills. It is certainly not my strong point. But I'm not trying to get a job cleaning houses. This is working for my family right now.
She got my gander up. I wish I had said everything to her in that paragraph above. I should have at least shoved that letter of recommendation back at her unfinished. But I didn't. I glared and finished a very generic letter. I will not be asking her to watch my pets every again. I certainly won't ever ask her into my house. I will continue to be polite when I see her.
That is the detriment to have neighbors close by. I can't cut them out of my life. I must grit my teeth and bare it. Grrrrr.
Sunday, September 29, 2013
Friday, September 27, 2013
The Copperheads (or: the benefits of living in a neighborhood)
There are times that I really hate living in a neighborhood. Like when we get a threatening letter in the mail warning us that we have too many weeds and will be fined if we don't remedy the situation in 15 days (uh, where were you when I had infants? You couldn't see the house for the weeds). And awful, rude, irresponsible neighbors (I have something stewing...perhaps I'll write it down...in another post maybe).
But when I think about someday moving and having the choice to live in a neighborhood or not, I have a hard time imagining not being close neighbors to other families.
There is a pack of boys that love to play sports in the open field at the entrance of street. One little boy is really determined, and goes around our loop collecting the boys to come and play. Almost every day our doorbell rings and someone is looking for Andrew to come out and join them. Often when we come back from an outing, the boys are playing. They see our van and start waving us down, "We NEED you Andrew! Come play!"
It is fabulous. I mean, to be honest, they spend most of their time arguing about the rules or what game they are going to play or stand around waiting for the one last boy to finish his homework and join them. But they do eventually play, and the have never...not once...gone inside each other's houses. It is all outdoor play...at least that is what Andrew gets invited to do. They make up games, like the latest fad, "Upper Deck", which basically entails trying to kick a giant ball up on our roof. They sometimes play capture the flag or soccer. Occasionally they will go to our neighborhood courts to play basketball or tennis. The love to play football.
They love football so much, that they have created their own team, the Copperheads (we all live on Copperleaf Dr.). They spend all their time on the bus discussing different plays and who plays what position that day, when they are going to have practice, etc. They spend WAY more time talking about the Copperheads than actually playing football.
I think it is awesome.
But don't feel bad for Lily and Michael. I don't give them as free range as the other kids their age, but we get tons of kids that want to play on our hill and our play set to keep them company. If not, the big boys are very patient and include Lily and Michael if they want to. It is not an unusual site to catch Lily snapping the ball. Michael is usually just their cheerleader...a bit too intimidated to play...yet.
Sometimes, living in a neighborhood is very worth it. Even if I know they are watching me and my weeds.
And as an added bonus...look who's a Daisy this year. With the hip/head cock pose going strong. Weirdo.
Monday, September 23, 2013
Soccer mom
Have I ever mentioned how much I hate sports? Watching them, playing them...I find them so very dull.
And yet here I am...in this life. Spending so much time sending my children to sporting events. Finding the socks...do we have clean socks? Wrestling the shin guards on...then pulling those infernal socks on top. Now they stab me in the leg with their cleats as I double and triple knot the laces. Water? Can we find a water bottle to bring/spill with us? Which soccer ball is yours. Don't bounce it into the street/off your sister's head, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD WE ARE TRYING TO GET THERE ON TIME! How about snacks and puzzle books and toys and colored pencils for the children NOT involved in the soccer playing that day? Enough chairs for everyone? Hats? Check the weather to find out if we'll need jackets or sun tan lotion. Did everyone finish their homework first? How about dinner? Now back at home, make sure those socks/shorts/shirts get thrown down to the basement so they'll be clean for next time. Baths? Ugh.
Soccer practice Monday night.
Soccer practice Tuesday night.
Soccer practice Wednesday night (an optional one that I have always opted out of)
Soccer practice Thursday night.
3 Soccer games Saturday.
Usually 1 soccer game Sunday.
Repeat.
Sports. Ugh.
But it is really really fun to watch them play. No, really. It almost makes all the rest of it worth it (almost).
He is attentive but not aggressive. He does not like to run, and will jog or walk slowly until he knows it is worth committing to going down the field. He pumps his fist with victory when a goal is scored. He likes to play goalie and defense, and he is definitely better at those positions. He runs like a broken doll...hands down by his side...very awkward looking. He is big for his age, and could out-run, over power most of the boys...if he would just figure that out. He cheers on his teammates and pays close attention to the game, even when he is not on field. He frequently gets "injured" and limps around a bit. But he does not ask to be taken out of the game and he pulls himself together when he's disappointed in his own play. He does not talk to or joke around much with his teammates, who all go to different schools than him. His coaches love him and call him "Spurge"...he follows their direction well and absorbs the rules and plays very well. He is not the star. He is not the klutz. This is not the sport that makes him smile with joy and want to practice. But he is not yet willing to give it up, so he must be having fun all the same. He is #8 on the white team that has lost every game they have played. Go White Lightning!
She is pure joy on the field. She is FAST, and can run down most of the girls. She is attentive but not aggressive. Well, until she successfully takes the ball down the field. Then you can see a switch turn on and she is suddenly in every play, struggling to take the ball, trying over and over to steal that ball away. She smiles the whole game. She apologizes to nearby girls when she misses the ball...even if they are on the opposite team. She knows every player's name on her team, and which parent belongs to them. She sometimes stumbles over her own feet out on the field, but she pops back up and keeps on running (after apologizing, of course). Her ponytail bounces and wispies fly in her eyes as she bounds up and down the field. She does not pay attention to the game when she is not playing...until she is ready to go back in. Then she stands on the sidelines, at the ready...just hoping and wishing her coach will put her back in. She loves water breaks and after game snacks and putting a green hair ribbon in to match her uniform. She is #8 on the green team. Her suggestion for the team name was the Trees (their uniforms are green)...other girls suggested Green Apples or Grass. The coach managed to convince them to go with a more fearsome name. Go Gators!
He runs like a crazy man all over the field. He will sometimes just dramatically dive down on the ground for no apparent reason. He stays about 3 feet from the pack of children most of the time, yelling and cheering and getting very excited about the pack of running boys. Sometimes the excitement builds up and he will randomly tackle a boy next to him. He is learning that tackling is NOT allowed. He does not understand dribbling...he stops the ball, takes a few steps back, and then runs up to kick it once. When he makes contact with the ball (once or twice a game), he is so excited that he thumbs up to the spectators and forgets the game is still going on. He desperately wants to be goalie, so much so that he will run all the way down the field to go stand near the goal to get ready for the ball to come. When he is goalie, he frequently turns his back on the game and plays in the net like a monkey. He loves his water breaks. He smiles for much of the game and seems so happy just to be running and watching the other boys dribble and score. He is #2 on the gray team...Go Team Flash!
And yet here I am...in this life. Spending so much time sending my children to sporting events. Finding the socks...do we have clean socks? Wrestling the shin guards on...then pulling those infernal socks on top. Now they stab me in the leg with their cleats as I double and triple knot the laces. Water? Can we find a water bottle to bring/spill with us? Which soccer ball is yours. Don't bounce it into the street/off your sister's head, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD WE ARE TRYING TO GET THERE ON TIME! How about snacks and puzzle books and toys and colored pencils for the children NOT involved in the soccer playing that day? Enough chairs for everyone? Hats? Check the weather to find out if we'll need jackets or sun tan lotion. Did everyone finish their homework first? How about dinner? Now back at home, make sure those socks/shorts/shirts get thrown down to the basement so they'll be clean for next time. Baths? Ugh.
Soccer practice Monday night.
Soccer practice Tuesday night.
Soccer practice Wednesday night (an optional one that I have always opted out of)
Soccer practice Thursday night.
3 Soccer games Saturday.
Usually 1 soccer game Sunday.
Repeat.
Sports. Ugh.
But it is really really fun to watch them play. No, really. It almost makes all the rest of it worth it (almost).
He is attentive but not aggressive. He does not like to run, and will jog or walk slowly until he knows it is worth committing to going down the field. He pumps his fist with victory when a goal is scored. He likes to play goalie and defense, and he is definitely better at those positions. He runs like a broken doll...hands down by his side...very awkward looking. He is big for his age, and could out-run, over power most of the boys...if he would just figure that out. He cheers on his teammates and pays close attention to the game, even when he is not on field. He frequently gets "injured" and limps around a bit. But he does not ask to be taken out of the game and he pulls himself together when he's disappointed in his own play. He does not talk to or joke around much with his teammates, who all go to different schools than him. His coaches love him and call him "Spurge"...he follows their direction well and absorbs the rules and plays very well. He is not the star. He is not the klutz. This is not the sport that makes him smile with joy and want to practice. But he is not yet willing to give it up, so he must be having fun all the same. He is #8 on the white team that has lost every game they have played. Go White Lightning!
She is pure joy on the field. She is FAST, and can run down most of the girls. She is attentive but not aggressive. Well, until she successfully takes the ball down the field. Then you can see a switch turn on and she is suddenly in every play, struggling to take the ball, trying over and over to steal that ball away. She smiles the whole game. She apologizes to nearby girls when she misses the ball...even if they are on the opposite team. She knows every player's name on her team, and which parent belongs to them. She sometimes stumbles over her own feet out on the field, but she pops back up and keeps on running (after apologizing, of course). Her ponytail bounces and wispies fly in her eyes as she bounds up and down the field. She does not pay attention to the game when she is not playing...until she is ready to go back in. Then she stands on the sidelines, at the ready...just hoping and wishing her coach will put her back in. She loves water breaks and after game snacks and putting a green hair ribbon in to match her uniform. She is #8 on the green team. Her suggestion for the team name was the Trees (their uniforms are green)...other girls suggested Green Apples or Grass. The coach managed to convince them to go with a more fearsome name. Go Gators!
He runs like a crazy man all over the field. He will sometimes just dramatically dive down on the ground for no apparent reason. He stays about 3 feet from the pack of children most of the time, yelling and cheering and getting very excited about the pack of running boys. Sometimes the excitement builds up and he will randomly tackle a boy next to him. He is learning that tackling is NOT allowed. He does not understand dribbling...he stops the ball, takes a few steps back, and then runs up to kick it once. When he makes contact with the ball (once or twice a game), he is so excited that he thumbs up to the spectators and forgets the game is still going on. He desperately wants to be goalie, so much so that he will run all the way down the field to go stand near the goal to get ready for the ball to come. When he is goalie, he frequently turns his back on the game and plays in the net like a monkey. He loves his water breaks. He smiles for much of the game and seems so happy just to be running and watching the other boys dribble and score. He is #2 on the gray team...Go Team Flash!
Friday, September 20, 2013
Now that no one's reading any more...
Okay. 3 months off. Enough time that I think people won't be checking in anymore. But I miss capturing little moments of our lives for my own future enjoyment.
Reasons I haven't been writing...
---I stopped writing just as my friend was going through treatments for her stage 4 cancer. I don't know how to address my feelings about this on here, and yet it was captivating my thoughts for a long while. As of today, she is finished with her 8 rounds of chemo and will have major surgery to remove parts of her liver and intestines in October. I am scared, but have found that my role in her life is to make her laugh. I have told her that I don't know that it is appropriate or acceptable to joke around in a time like this...but it is all I have for her.
---Jeff's facility for work has moved at the end of June. His commute is now 50 miles...which means it can take almost 90 minutes for him to get home at night. This is not how we want to live for the rest of our kids school days...I know it works for some people, but it's not for us. So we are re-thinking what this means in regards to staying here. Since the company won't relocate us to the new facility (less than 100 miles), but it will all be the same impact to the family if we move 50 miles or 1000 miles...he is job hunting. With the full support of his boss and boss's boss. They send him job postings. ;) Just goes to show how crappy the commute is. If he doesn't find something in the next year, we'll focus on how to make the commute work for the long run. I don't know what the answers are, and I am focused on not worrying about it until something actually needs to happen. And we all know how good I am at that ;)
---The kids are so complex now. How do I explain that Michael is developing his own accent all of a sudden...changing the way the short /a/ sounds in a peculiar and annoying way? I have a hard time capturing Andrew's sense of humor and the delivery of his sarcasm without making it sound disrespectful. For example, when we were out to dinner, the sun was shining in his eyes, and he kept using my shade so he could see the tv behind my head. I was trying to annoy him (I know, mature) and would move my head suddenly so he'd get a burst of sun in his eyes. One time he turned away and said, "Mom, when I don't call you someday, just remember this moment." Man, he cracked me up. And Lily? She is a delightful/frustrating combination of sweet little 6 year old girl and whining incompetent 2 year old. I mean, how do you lose your shoe in the house. Not both of them, just one. Are we kicking them off in different directions (yes). But then she'll turn around and draw the sweetest picture of her family and make you melt and love her even more than you already do.
---I'm kind of bored. Of writing on here. But then I regret not being able to look back and read what we were doing.
So we'll see. If I can snap out of boredom and write down snippets of our day. If not, I'm sorry to my future self who will enjoy reminiscing about the good old days. Because these are the good old days. If I could freeze my kids at their current ages, I totally would. They are so much fun and so daggone easy to take care of. Except for the shoe thing. That kind of stuff drives me CRAZY. ;)
Reasons I haven't been writing...
---I stopped writing just as my friend was going through treatments for her stage 4 cancer. I don't know how to address my feelings about this on here, and yet it was captivating my thoughts for a long while. As of today, she is finished with her 8 rounds of chemo and will have major surgery to remove parts of her liver and intestines in October. I am scared, but have found that my role in her life is to make her laugh. I have told her that I don't know that it is appropriate or acceptable to joke around in a time like this...but it is all I have for her.
---Jeff's facility for work has moved at the end of June. His commute is now 50 miles...which means it can take almost 90 minutes for him to get home at night. This is not how we want to live for the rest of our kids school days...I know it works for some people, but it's not for us. So we are re-thinking what this means in regards to staying here. Since the company won't relocate us to the new facility (less than 100 miles), but it will all be the same impact to the family if we move 50 miles or 1000 miles...he is job hunting. With the full support of his boss and boss's boss. They send him job postings. ;) Just goes to show how crappy the commute is. If he doesn't find something in the next year, we'll focus on how to make the commute work for the long run. I don't know what the answers are, and I am focused on not worrying about it until something actually needs to happen. And we all know how good I am at that ;)
---The kids are so complex now. How do I explain that Michael is developing his own accent all of a sudden...changing the way the short /a/ sounds in a peculiar and annoying way? I have a hard time capturing Andrew's sense of humor and the delivery of his sarcasm without making it sound disrespectful. For example, when we were out to dinner, the sun was shining in his eyes, and he kept using my shade so he could see the tv behind my head. I was trying to annoy him (I know, mature) and would move my head suddenly so he'd get a burst of sun in his eyes. One time he turned away and said, "Mom, when I don't call you someday, just remember this moment." Man, he cracked me up. And Lily? She is a delightful/frustrating combination of sweet little 6 year old girl and whining incompetent 2 year old. I mean, how do you lose your shoe in the house. Not both of them, just one. Are we kicking them off in different directions (yes). But then she'll turn around and draw the sweetest picture of her family and make you melt and love her even more than you already do.
---I'm kind of bored. Of writing on here. But then I regret not being able to look back and read what we were doing.
So we'll see. If I can snap out of boredom and write down snippets of our day. If not, I'm sorry to my future self who will enjoy reminiscing about the good old days. Because these are the good old days. If I could freeze my kids at their current ages, I totally would. They are so much fun and so daggone easy to take care of. Except for the shoe thing. That kind of stuff drives me CRAZY. ;)
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