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I hate it when I write a terribly stupid post and then I don’t post again for days. Sorry for the George Thurogood lag. Any ways, I had yet another bladder infection on Thursday. It knocked me down flat too. This is my fourth one in a year.
This Saturday we will cleaning up the last of our crap at the old apartment. It will be nice to have one place of residence. I will no longer be affluent with a East and Westside residence. Well, not a fun blog, but not silly song lyrics either.
*Me, standing with my hands on jean frayed hips with a jeer on my face*
“Here is some song lyrics to all of the kids that just graduated from school this May. OWWW!!!” *air guitar*
I was a rebel from the day I left school
Grew my hair long and broke all the rules
I’d sit and listen to my records all day
With big ambitions of where I could play
My parents taught me what life was about
So I grew up the type they warned me about
They said my friends were just a unruly mob
And I should, get a haircut and get a real job
CHORUS
Get a haircut and get a real job
Clean your act up and dont be a slob
Get it together like your big brother Bob
Why dont you, get a haircut and get a real job
I even tried that nine to five scene
I told myself that it was all a bad dream
I found a band with some good songs to play
Now I party all night and sleep all day
I met this chick, she was my number one fan
She took me home to meet her mommy and dad
They took one look at me and said, “Oh my god!
Get a haircut and get a real job!”
CHORUS
(Get a real job, why dont you get a real job,
get a real job, why dont you get a real job)
I hit the bigtime with my rock and roll band
The future’s brighter now then I ever planned
I’m ten times richer then my big brother Bob
He’s got a haricut and got a real job
CHORUS
(Get a real job, why dont you get a real job,
get a real job, why dont you get a real job)
(That was George Thurogood and the Destroyers, “Get a Job”- I’ve been wanting to post that for a while.)
Couple random things:
- G.W. Bush has ruined the word ’strategic’ for me. I can’t take the word seriously anymore. Oh, and ‘terror’ too. They seem like puns in a sick joke these days.
- I wish my keyboard to my work computer sounded like a typewriter when I wrote shit. I think I would sound busier to my co-workers. :)
- Every SINGLE road I take to work is under construction. It’s awesome. I think I should just get a free vacation due to near impossible driving conditions.
- I think that husband and I’s anniversary is Friday… or Saturday. *Nonetheless: sometime this weekend we will have shared4.8 years ‘knowing’ eachother, 4.75 years dating, 3.5 years living together, 3.15 years liking eachother, 2.0 years officially married and .95 years since we have celebrated our wedlock. Good grief. *estimated :)
- Favorite Ella quote of the day, “Mom, bees like juicy things.” Whaaa?
In the last week, Ella has come home from daycare with comments that make me so sad. Here is the first:
“Mama, Girlsname told me that I couldn’t come to her pony party unless I neber wore these shoes again.”
I was all, “What?! Next time she tells you that tell her its is mean, and who cares what she thinks of your shoes because YOU like them and that’s all that matters. Tell your teachers that Girlsname is being rude.”
Next comment:
“Mama, don’t pack the baby yogurt in my school lunch. I got laughed at. I can only eat that at home now.”
Oh, my poor baby. Already having to deal with those little twirps that schools are full of at the age of three. I wish I could tell all of those little ‘make you feel bad’ comments are temporary…
Three year olds. What an interesting age. Last night we had a couple of Matt’s Regional bosses over for dinner. Before they even got there Ella was already in PrimeTimeThreeYearOld mode. Throwing things, banging things and in general defiance mode. One of his bosses has been considering babies with his partner and I could tell he was kind of panning Ella out to see what he thought of kids who are of the Preschool persuasion. Probably not the best night for it. First of all, Ella didn’t feel like using words when they asked her questions. She rather felt like saying, “Bah, Boo.” or “Ach naa“. I don’t know man. She wouldn’t eat dinner, and she thought it was fun to continually drop her fork on the ground and throw a ball at the guy’s head. As the awesome parents we are, Matt and me tried not to make a big deal of her weirdness, awkwardly laughing, and the old, “Hehe, she must have missed her nap today at school! Hehe.” But she did get sent to her room once and was refused dessert. I’m sure they were both pretty impressed with our child and our mad parenting skillz and I bet we will get a break from dinner parties with them for a while.
PS: This morning I woke up, walked into Ella’s room to discover she wasn’t there. After a quick run through the upstairs of the house (freaking out) I ran into my bedroom and told Matt that Ella was missing. He double freaks and we start running around the house together. All of the sudden I hear a little scamper of feet and Ella runs in from the kitchen which leads to our basement. I have NO clue what she was doing- she wouldn’t tell me. I have a feeling she was sleep walking. To say the least, I had enough adrenalin to leave for work without coffee today. It was fucking scary.
Good Thing: Moved all of our stuff to the new house.
Bad Thing: Had to pick up all of the stuff to get it to the new house.
Good Thing: The U-Haul was super cheap.
Bad Thing: When I opened it up, the a headboard slammed down on my foot.
Good Thing: BBQ on our new grill. MMMMMMM….
Bad Thing: Getting pooped on by a bird that ate too many mulberries. Ewwwww….
Good Thing: My father in law’s Gooseberry Wine.
Bad Thing: Having to continue to lug things around the house after drinking a couple glasses of the wine.
Good Thing: Having everything out of the apartment. (almost)
Bad Thing: Having to clean that black hole of a space.
Good Thing: Writing a blog
Bad Thing: Writing a blog that kind of blows. Oh well.
At our new house (oh great, Chrissy is talking about her house once again in a blog) our neighbors behind us are a cute little Mexican family. There are couple kids that run around and Ella is really funny about it. One of the kids is a little girl a little older than Ella. When Ella sees her she runs over to the fence and stares at her. The girl stops doing whatever she was doing and stares back. It’s cute. The little girl gave Ella a sucker the other day- but I still don’t think any words have been exchange. Yesterday, Ella asked me if I could come with her to stare at her say hi to her. So, we see her and go over to the fence. I think she speaks mainly Spanish because she stared at me for most of my questions and I couldn’t understand her name. I told her Ella’s name and told Ella to tell her hola.
SIDE STORY: I don’t know if I have mentioned this but Ella speaks Spanish and probably understands the language even more. From the age of .5 to 1.5 her daycare provider only spoke Spanish to the kids. And it was a bit frustrating to me because I had to figure out if Ella was speaking English, Spanish or just Baby. And for the last couple years since her Montessori does Spanish everyday.
Back to the story: After a couple more minutes of staring, both the girls completely content with the situation and me a bit uncomfortable, Ella and I went inside for bathtime. I’ll keep you posted if the girls ever move past the staring at eachother stage. I think it might be time for Ella to give her something to eat. I’m not sure on the rules of making preschool friends. Maybe there is a website for proper etiquette.
I have had an insulin pump for nearly five years. I really dig my pump and normally don’t totally hate having it hanging on me at all times. My warranty for it ran out in August and I have pushed my luck that it wouldn’t break since then. I mean, jeez, it’s made it this long- what are the chances? And as I previously wrote I have humored myself buying a new one, for a mere 500.00 with two insurances. Great idea and all, considering I just bought a freaking fracking house. My pump died on Monday, count it 4 DAYS since I moved in. I non-chalantly called the medical supply company and asked, “Okay, I’m ready to order the pump! Hehe. Ummm… can I get it tomorrow?” Luckily, they could and I was only 12 hours without my bionic pancreas. It still makes me think about how fragile I am. I was MESSED UP on Tuesday morning. I very likely could have been in the hospital. My body is still recovering. It turns my self image to STRONG HEALTHY WOMAN to weak old lady with a broken hip waiting to happen. Sometimes it’s enough to make me want to curl in a ball. Anyways, my new pump is very cool. It has all sorts of features. It even has an alarm clock! It was was SO worth the $500 dollars.
Oh buddy, was I tired yesterday. I’m so much better today. I couldn’t even be excited about my new house yesterday. Co-workers were all, “Ohh, tell us about your new house!” and I was all, “Bleh, go away.” It kind of sucks because now today, no one wants to hear about it. Their obligatory excitement for me is over. Oh well, I got a blog to talk about it! Within hours of the close Matt and me saw a garage sale a block a way with a patio set. We bought it and our butts were stuck in those chairs most of the weekend. Our backyard is AWESOME! My family helped me get alot of the stuff we need to live out of the house, so right have we have no furniture but lots of crap. Matt’s wonderful parents will be here this weekend to help with the big stuff! It will be nice to be able to decide where wood furniture will live, instead of blow up furniture and boxes. I really like my HE washing machine too, I feel so liberal. Ha, but it does clean really good. Any-who, enough gushing for now.
So what did I say, I’ve moved 9 times in ten years? Shouldn’t I be prepared? I’m sooooo sleepy/exhausted. I took an impromptu day off yesterday to get a little more prepared and spend an extra day with my little girl. Jenny, Ben and my mom did indeed come up for the weekend and it was gooood. We ate the butter lamb at an Ikea meatball dinner last night in our beautiful backyard. I promise pics of the place next week. Let me get all my shit in a spot that looks good first. More later!
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