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Archive for June, 2008

Dear Nosy Neighbor #2,

Stop coming around and fishing for info…  It’s waaaaay obvious.  Just come out and ask what you want to ask.  I won’t tell you anything, but at least I’ll respect you.  Thanks.

Sincerely,

Your Annoyed Neighbor

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The Mister is out of town.  I know I’ve told you all about my irrational fear of being alone overnight…  I’m a total freak about it.  And it certainly hasn’t been helped at all by the new neighbor across the street who is listed on the National Registry of Sex Offenders… To say the least.

 

My normal Mister is out of town going to bed routine:

Pour myself a drink…

Make sure my car is locked…

Make sure all outside doors are locked…

Make sure all windows are locked…

Enter 911 into my cell, so all I have to do is hit send…  Just in case my phone lines are cut or anything…

Put my cell phone by the bed…

Put the cordless phone in the bed…

Make sure my keys are all by the bed…

Turn on all outside lights…

Leave the t.v. on in the den so that it looks like someone is up…

Tie the doors to the hallway that leads to my bedroom shut…  (Yes, you read that right…  But, I didn’t do this last night because the kids now sleep on the other side of the house…)

Turn the hall light on…

Set the alarm…

Triple check the alarm…

Turn my t.v. on…

Turn the bathroom light on…

Make sure there are no cracks in the curtains and/or blinds that someone could peak through…

Check the alarm again…

Pull the covers up to my chin and stare out in horror into the night…  (At least until 4AM, becuase that’s the offical universal burglar cutoff time.) 

 

And, that’s my normal routine.  I had to modify it a bit last night because the kids sleep on the opposite side of the house now, so I couldn’t tie the hall doors shut.  Tying those doors shut really gives me an extra peace of mind, too…  I mean, if somone were in the house and trying to get to me, they’d have to come through those doors.  And, if they are tied shut, they couldn’t open them, but they could sure make a whole lot of noise shaking them trying to do so.  I figure it buys me at least two extra minutes to call 911 or make my escape.  

Avery slept with me, too.  And, that made me feel so much safer and made me feel a lot less anxious.  I guess that sounds stupid.  My three year old made me feel safer…  But, just having her there with me in the bed and not being all alone and scared made it better. 

And, I’m proud to say that I didn’t stay up until the universal burglar cutoff time…  (I mean, come on what burglar is going to actually break in somewhere after 4AM?  Some people start getting up pretty early and that does not afford the burglar much time to get in, get the goods and get out before an alarm potentially goes off…  So, I feel fairly certain that I am safe to shut my eyes then.  At exactly 4AM…  Seriously.)  I actually dozed off sometime before 2:00.  Very impressive.  Most mornings after I spend the night alone I can barely function because I’m so tired. 

I did great and I’m pretty impressed with myself.  The Mister even gave me kudos.  Go, me!  He’ll be back tonight, but not until late, so I don’t have to worry about burglars…  Or the new rapist next door…  Just about baths and making my three year old eat some veggies.  Which still aren’t easy tasks… 

(And, needless to say, I have not baked cookies in welcome for our new neighbor…  That’s another post for another time…) 

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MIA…

I’ll probably not be around much today…  My funny is broken.  Temporarily, anyway… 

Be back soon.  Have a great day! 

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The Sitter…

My mother-in-law set up a sitter for me.  A sitter that can’t drive, and lives 45 minutes away…  A sitter to come every Friday for the day.   For the day, people. 

Firstly, what do I do all day every Friday?  Fold clothes?  Sleep?  Go to a movie? I mean, seriously…  I’ll feel really weird being here all day while she’s here…  It’s like sitting on my ass while a maid cleans up.  I can’t do it.  I clean along side them.  I mean, I feel more like I’m getting a nanny than a sitter…  Sitter implies that I am not home.  What the hell do I need with a nanny? 

Secondly, do you know how much babysitters these days charge????  Like $10.00 an hour.  An hour.  And she’s supposed to be here all day.  Every Friday.  I’m no mathematician, but off the top of my head, I’m thinking that’s like a car payment… 

Thirdly, her mom is dropping her off this morning…  Surely you haven’t missed how much gas costs these days.  I’m going to have to pay that child a fortune just to allow her to make anything after having to drive an hour and half just to get here and back. 

I loooove the girl, she’s absolutely adorable.  And, she’s sort of a family friend…  Sort of.  Well, not really, but her mother is really active in my in-laws’ community and she is my mil’s house keeper.  She cleaned my house, too, for a while.  And, they have actually babysat for me before…  I just never feel really comfortable asking them to becuase of the drive.

I had no idea she was supposed to come today…  None.  My mil told me this at 5:00 yesterday.  I told her I had plans.  She said, sort of panicky, “Oh, well, Amanda was supposed to start tomorrow.”  She had no idea how long Amanda was staying, no idea what the girl is charging…  She just found out one of the ladies around town (a very small town) was using her as a sitter and got the bright idea that I could really use her, too…  Every Friday.  But, it really was thoughtful and, frankly, I could use some help…

While I know she was trying to do something nice, for me and by helping Amanda and her family out, we never really finalized it….  When she saw that I was uncomfortable yesterday when she announced the starting date and time, she kind of stuttered and stammered and said that she would come and take her home.  I said no, that was ridiculous…  My in-laws live 20 minutes away themselves.  I’m not asking her to drive here, get the girl, and drive her the 45 minutes home and back…  She then offered to pay half.  Of course, I’m not letting her.  And, she really just threw that out there to try and seal the deal.

She had already told them yes.  She’d already told them she could start today.  She didn’t want to call them back and tell them no.  And, it really was a nice gesture…

Anyway, the mom works in my town every other Friday, and I suggested that her mom drop her off on those Fridays, and pick her back up on her way out of town.  I do not see the advantage of me having to load the kids up those other Fridays, and driving all the way to get her…  I don’t want her here the whole day, I don’t need her every Friday, and I don’t want to spend just as much in gas as I would be paying her.  Just to have her here to play with my kids…  And, since I feel really weird about being here with her, I’d have to spend money getting out of the house and doing something…  Like shopping and lunch.  The cost of a day with the sitter just tripled…  Maybe even quadrupled if my shopping includes new shoes…

She’ll be here at 9:00.  I guess I’ll tell them that I only want to do this every other Friday, when her mom will already be in town.  And that I’m sorry, I’m not sure what my mother-in-law worked out with them, but I just don’t think I want her every single Friday.  For the day.  Don’t you think that’s okay?  I hate to back out on any deal already made, but I just don’t want to do it as it stands…

Anyway, I’m sitting here in my pajamas (an old ratty t-shirt with some of the Mister’s old boxers) still drinking my very first cup of coffee…  Avery is still asleep, Henry is back asleep…  Mornings are not my gig.  It takes me a good three hours just to wake up, get moving and get the energy to do anything.  She’ll be here in 15 minutes.  I’m really starting to think I’ll just go crawl back into bed.  And, I’m totally now reconsidering my mother-in-law’s offer and letting her pay for half of my nap. 

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Sickos.

Okay, there have been several hits today from JJ’s Home Pee or something…  Apparently it’s a site dedicated to women peeing.  Like to get off on it, I guess.  And, there is an automatically generated possibly related post link to my blog.  An entry about Avery and potty training.  I’ve already changed the title on some of my entries because of similar things…  Pervs finding an entry about my three year old daughter and checking it out, thinking it’s something that will turn them on, makes me want to vomit…  I hope to god that none of them are actually turned on by a three year old and/or her princess panties. 

Mostly I just ignore, or change the title a bit, or whatever, but I’ve had so many hits from this site, that I actually went and commented.  Right below the link to my blog entry, “Big Girl Panties,” I wrote “I do not know what you are looking for, but the above related post is about potty training.  Sorry.”  I didn’t want to be too rude or too defensive, because I didn’t want to generate even more traffic…

It just creeps me out beyond belief to think that someone is trying to get off and is directed to a post about my pre-schooler.  YUCK.  I guess it is the internetz, afterall, and if you put yourself out there, you have to expect some unpleasantries.  It can’t all be roses and sunshine all the time. 

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Okay…

Looking at the picture of that big, giant, pathetic fucking “laundry basket” has made me decide to spend the whole morning in there doing something about it.  I would love to bring it in the den where the kids are, but folded clothes and small children don’t mix…  And, frankly, the damn thing is just too heavy to move.  The wheels literally will not roll. 

So, hopefully, by lunch time, the “laundry basket” will be transformed back into just a plain ole pack n’ play, and I can collapse it, put it in the bag and shove it in the attic…  Out of sight, out of mind…  I’d totally take it to Good Will if I wasn’t afraid we might need it for vacation.  For the baby…  Not the laundry that accumulates afterwards… 

I just need to make sure there’s no other big piece of furniture that can take it’s place…  The crib is safe…  Shit, our garden tub never gets used.  I better clear out the dust and start using that bad boy every night or the Mister may start eyeing it as his next landing point for 15 loads of clean laundry.

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