Time to check the meds

This week is crippling me emotionally.  I should be okay, not the blubbering mess I've been.  Just thinking about the situation has me sobbing.  I called Jason last night after I completely lost my shit once I realized who is going to Thanksgiving at our friend's house.

At the after party for our neighbors reception, I talked with G about what happened at the beach.  When he drinks, he becomes a fucking nightmare asshole.  He offends everyone and giggles while doing so.  He shimmied up next to me at the bar to apologize for his behavior.  I still called him out, especially since he's in his mid-twenties and should know better.  At some point his mom and sister came up, quietly listening to our conversation.  His mom interrupts up by saying 'No offense, Niki, but your kids are out of control.'

I stood there, not sure how I should respond before walking away in tears.  I was stressed out.  I hadn't been sleeping well, nor had I truly stopped moving during the previous two weeks.  I lost my shit, blubbering at a table in the back, before leaving.  No one needed the hot mess I'd become at the bar and I knew I wasn't calming down anytime soon.

Walking out of the bar, G followed me saying we still needed to talk.  I kept putting him off, knowing I wasn't in any shape.  Up walks J, whose house we're all supposed to be at on Thanksgiving.  The three of us are standing there, tipsy from the celebration with my added tears thrown on top.  G's mom starts yelling saying she didn't do anything.  G yells back.  I walk away.

And then comes the email last night.  I responded about what I'm bringing without really paying attention to who else will be there.  Once I saw the name's, I started crying.  Irrationally crying.  I'm letting a person hobble me emotionally to the point I start crying when I start thinking about her, her son and what'll happen this time.  I know I'm overreacting yet I can't help myself.

All of this is making me realize I need to get my meds checked.  Or get a script for something that'll take the edge off when I become a hot mess.  

Be a good neighbor

Because State Farm isn't in our neighborhood.

I could have sworn today was Friday and not Monday.  While the boys were fairly okay in shuffling out the door, the breakfast conversation wasn't exactly normal.

While eating his breakfast, Colin mentions a girl on the bus saying she hates them.  I sussed out from him it's a girl on the street behind us.  She's a bit of a snot, like her mom, so I'm not exactly concerned about her saying she doesn't like the boys.  Seriously, the girl is a brat, her mom barely acknowledges us when we're out with Murphy.  No big deal.

What bothers me is her proceeding in telling the boys our backyard neighbor (is that the right term?), the Orrs, hate us.  Yes, I know the boys can be loud.  Colin could wake the dead if he so desired.  Yes, I realize our 12 tomato plants fizzled across the back fence, making our yard look like shit.  Yes, I realize they're odd balls in their own right.  Do I think they hate us?  No because I've had enough conversations with Mrs. Orr to know she wouldn't acknowledge us if she truly hated us.  She's blunt.  She doesn't mince words.  She's joked about the exuberance of the boys, laughing that they're mine and not hers.  All the while acknowledging her kids were muted in their play.  I've had other neighbors confirm how their kids were as toddlers.

I proceeded in talking with Colin about how it's okay for kids to not like them, not everyone will.  It's okay for us to not be friends with everyone on the block and how if the Orrs hated us I'd never get a wave from her.  Please let me believe this fantasy, k?  I told him there are enough people in our neighborhood who like us, who like them, it more than balances out a snotty girl and her family.

Neighborhood dynamics are a bitch.  And people wonder why I sit on the porch with a drink in my hand.

The dreaded ice cream truck

One evening as we were sitting outside with our neighbor, we heard the sounds of the ice cream truck making its way through our neighborhood.  The boys always perk up thinking this might be the time we finally cave in and buy them ice cream.  Fortunately for us, the truck never turns towards our house.

Our neighbor told us about telling her nieces the ice cream truck is out of ice cream when you hear the song.  It was the drivers way of notifying everyone they didn't have anymore ice cream to sell.  Of course, we started spouting this phrase to the boys anytime the ice cream song was heard in the air.

There have been discussions about how the ice cream truck should plan better so they don't run out of ice cream.  Even the suggestion of talking with dad since he's a logistician so he could teach the ice cream truck drivers how to plan more efficiently.

During all of this I knew the day would come where I'd be caught telling the ice cream truck lie.  Little did I know this would happen at the playground.  I notice Jake and a few other kids going towards the parking lot.  I call out, asking him what he's doing.

'Mom!  The ice cream truck is here and he has ice cream!'

'Jake, I don't have any cash on me to buy ice cream.'

'But mom!  The song isn't playing!  They have ice cream!'

'I don't have any cash on me to buy ice cream.'

You can see where this is going as I dragged Jake away from the ice cream truck.  Yep, dashed my kids wee hearts in denying them ice cream the one time they were around when the truck wasn't playing its song.  Seriously, though, I didn't have any cash on me to buy them ice cream.  No, really, I'm not lying about the lack of cash on hand part.

I will say, telling your kids the ice cream truck is out of ice cream when you hear the song works.  They won't bother asking for ice cream every time they hear the song jangling around the neighborhood.

And it's done. For the most part.

It's going to be weird having a functioning basement again.  We're still not sure about the gray for the ceiling and trim.  Not the color we expected once it was on the walls.  No issues with the yellow. 

The basement will once again become the boys ginormous playroom for the next several months.  Or years.  They need a place to run around and we're short of furniture thanks to the mold.   

A photo montage of our basement. Or a twofer if you like.

There's actually been quite a bit more progress but it gives you an idea of what's been going on.  Since these have been taken, all of the drywall is up and things are at the point of being painted.  We caved and hired a person to finish the job for us.

Jason and our neighbors got almost all of the drywall up one drunken Saturday.  Another neighbor gave us the name of the person who finished their mudding and taping.  We hired him after he checked out the scope of our job, especially since the price was well below what any of us would have thought.  He finished up the drywall, taped and mudded for us.  The basement looks completely different now, if incredibly dusty at the moment.

Camping according to Jake

Jason and our neighbors have talked about taking the boys camping, a theme Jake has embraced with passion. We've had several conversations about what they'll need for camping. Here is Jake's requirements for camping:

1. A tent

2. Sleeping bags

3. Fire for S'mores

4. Marshmallows

5. Graham crackers to squish the marshmallows between

6. A stick to push the marshmallow on so it'll get burned

7. The ability to blow out a burning marshmallow

8. Chocolate for the S'mores

When frisbees attack

Jake, Murphy and I headed out to Burke Lake again this morning. I'm trying to get my arse out there at least 3 times a week before the older two are out of school. I'll get in at least 15miles a week of walking/jogging if I keep this up for the next two months.

We didn't have a quiet walk today. Not even 10 minutes out and we're attacked by a frisbee. All I saw was a yellow blur coming at Murphy and the jog stroller. As I'm exclaiming 'what the fuck is that?', I hear a shout of 'sorry!' from the 3 guys playing frisbee golf. Seems we weren't loud enough to alert the frisbee golfers of our presence.

Right after the frisbee attack, a turtle crossed our paths. I don't know who was more freaked out: Murphy or the turtle. Unfortunately the lake wasn't close enough for me to get the turtle off the trail. The turtle would have been great company for the huge ass fish swimming in the lake.

Today we also saw deer. We'd stopped at a stream so Murphy could get a drink and cool off. While he was trying to catch something in the water, I spotted 5 or 6 deer to our left. Jake wouldn't budge until he could see them for himself.

Oh, can't forget about the snake near the playground.