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.

I lack motivation. And I babble.

Laundry is waiting in the kitchen to be brought downstairs. The bathroom needs to be cleaned. The kitchen floors are gross. Dishes are in the sink. And where am I? On the computer because I don't want to clean.

School starts up for me again next week. Two of my classes should be fairly easy. The second part in Natural Science will kick my butt this term. I'll actually have a professor who teaches the class how it should be done. I still need to retake my math placement exam otherwise I'm screwed. Which means I need to study. Yet something else I'm avoiding like the plague.