Couching the Subject

Once I decided that the idea of another baby was not just going to go away quietly on it's own, I knew I had no choice but to tell Mr. Chick what I was thinking. Nothing like pondering having another child all in your own head, without letting your husband in on the secret, right?

When I dropped the 'baby' bomb, his initial reaction was about what I expected and included much stammering, stuttering and staring. Then he repeated the words 'no way in hell' and 'you've got to be kidding me' over and over again, which was also expected. I expected this reaction not because I think he's dead set against the idea, but because I've been dead set against the idea for as long as we both can remember. Saying I might want another baby is pretty much the equivalent of me saying I might want to shave my head and move to Zimbabwe to raise goats. When he started randomly giving me the stink eye and shaking his head though, I knew that I had him thinking about the possibility of another baby, too.

The thing is, Mr. Chick likes to pretend like he has absolutely no say in the matter because I make all the decisions around here anyway. Now that might be true, if we were say, buying a couch. I'm on to his tricks, though. He acts that way about decisions so that way when the couch gets here and it's uncomfortable to sit on and doesn't match the curtains he can say 'You were the one that wanted that couch.' A baby, however, doesn't come with a warranty and Scotchguard isn't going to help a damn thing, so there's no way I'm taking all the credit for this one. Not gonna happen.

As of now, we're like a Republican and a Democrat, vacillating between a dead even 50/50 split both for and against, to 60/40 against, 70/30 for, back to an even 50/50...it's never ending. We really need a bi-partisan vote, so in Mr. Chick's pragmatic view, we need to create a list of pros and cons to having another baby. Since I have exactly zero brilliant ideas of my own to move the discussion forward, I've agreed with this plan.

So, next on the list: Make a list. I'm going to suggest we do it while sitting on the couch, which I did pick out all on my own and is awesome thank you very much.

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If All Else Fails, Tell the Internet

I've had this niggling thought in the back of my mind recently. It's like an annoying ear worm of a song that won't go away (Livin' La Vida Loca, anyone? You are welcome, internet) and I've been ignoring it. It's still sitting over there in the corner, staring at me and I think it's getting comfortable. I figured I had to take some sort of action, before it starts leaving wet towels in my bathroom and drinking the last Diet Coke, which is just wrong on so many levels.

So what is this thought, you ask? Well, I'll tell you. You should feel special that I'm going to tell you because I have not told anyone this thought, except for my husband. It would just be wrong to tell the internet this thought before I told him. Not as wrong as drinking the last Diet Coke, but still. Anyway, all of a sudden I'm pondering what it would be like to have another baby. I KNOW. Huge, right?

Clearly, I've been feeling nostalgic recently, as evidenced by this post. That said, I've been absolutely sure for YEARS that we were not having any more babies, ever ever ever. My girls are 12 and 10 and for the most part (the most IMPORTANT parts) self sufficient. Everyone in my house wipes their own ass. Everybody sleeps through the night and feeds and dresses themselves. There are no tantrums, unless Mr. Chick wants to take over the TV to watch something dumb, like UFC fights, when I want to catch up my DVR'd Food Network shows. Which happens pretty regularly almost never. And it's been that way for a very long time.

So, why would I want to change that? Why would I want to go back to a crying baby, sleepless nights, diaper changes, tantrums, watching Playhouse Disney shows constantly, potty training and everything else? I have no idea. But I still kind of want to.

I'll be examining this issue over the course of several posts. Follow along to see what happens...this should be interesting, or educational, or mildly entertaining, or ridiculously frustrating, or possibly all of the above.

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Random Friday Thoughts

1) Earlier this week, I was driving down the road when I noticed a Chrysler Town & Country with a huge sticker covering the entire back window. Now, being a minivan, you could totally expect said sticker to be for something like a daycare or maybe those stickers for each member of the family, all the way down to the dog, cat and hamster. But, no. This huge sticker was for the band Papa Roach, complete with a freaky picture of some guy wearing eyeliner and a studded choker. Papa Roach is a band that sings about bleeding and not giving a f*ck and probably also roaches, or something. Apparently while wearing eyeliner. And chokers. I just had to drive up beside this minivan to see who was driving and it was totally somebody's mom, for sure. I'm all for trying to hang on to the last shreds of my youth, but not so much that I would sticker my minivan with NKOTB stickers or whatever. If I had a minivan, that is. Which I don't.

2) The other day I was walking through Target when I saw this girl at the checkout counter totally rocking a sweater dress, studded ankle boots and also, feathered hair. I really don't understand why we're revisiting 80s fashion. It was not a good look the first time around. I mean, I get nostalgic once in a while too but it doesn't mean I want to throw on some parachute pants (seriously, WTF on those things, anyway) and start carrying around my Cabbage Patch Kids again. Not that I ever wore pink parachute pants or anything. Nope, I didnt.

3) You know what bugs me? When actresses and models talk about how they eat whatever they want and stay skinny. I call BS on the whole 'I just eat what I crave and I manage to stay thin.' Yeah right chick, you must get some wicked cravings for celery sticks and ice water. Oh, and cigarettes.

4) This week, I decided to teach myself to knit because why not just throw one more thing on my To Do list, right? So far, I've knitted and unraveled yards and yards of yarn. I have two problems with my knitting. a) both sides of my knitting look like purl stitches and from what I gather, one side should look like knit stitches and the other side should look like purl stitches and b) I may very well be way to uptight to knit because my stitches are so tight that they're hard to get off the needles. I should have known this actually, because one other time I tried to learn to knit using hard plastic needles and I snapped the needle in half during a particularly aggressive knit stitch. None of this will make any sense if you don't knit but it's irritating me, hence this random knitting thought.

5) Attempted knitting aside, I'm not really very crafty. I suck at taking pictures, which I told you about in last week's Random Friday Thoughts. I also mentioned my non-start at scrapbooking. I can't draw my way out of a paper bag, either. The blogosphere though, is full of a bunch of crafty chicks. You should check out the Etsy shop of Twinkie Tot Mom, or the website of Ninotchka whose artwork is AMAZING or the baking creations of Three Pugs & a Baby. Oh! Also the jewelry of Christina Lee. So awesome. I am in awe of these ladies, and so many others with their crafting and artistic abilities. Maybe I'll get really good at knitting, so I can be crafty too. Perhaps I'll start with these. Stylish, no?

Happy Friday to all!

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Getting to Know Me - First Edition

Because I hate the term 'meme', I'm going to call this a 'Getting to Know Me' post because I refuse to call it a 'meme'. I came across this one at 'Life of a Doctor's Wife' and because I liked the questions, I figured I'd give it a go. So, without further ado, I give you my 'Firsts'.

1) Who was your first prom date?

My first and only prom date was actually my husband (although he wasn't my husband at the time, obviously). It was my junior year and it was his senior prom; we went to different high schools. I remember I couldn't get his boutonniere to stay pinned on so my mom had to do it for me and I thought my dress was the greatest thing ever (it totally was NOT). I think the theme of the prom was "Almost Paradise," maybe? Clearly, I was underwhelmed by the experience because I didn't bother to go to my own senior prom the next year.

2) Who was your first roommate?

I've never had a roommate, unless you count my husband. Have you seen Single White Female? No thanks.

3) What was your first alcoholic beverage?

I distinctly remember my dad giving me sips of his beer on hot summer days. In high school, we'd all throw in a few bucks for a case of disgusting Natural Light and then chug it while playing quarters. Natty Light isn't exactly a sipping beer, if you know what I mean.

4) What was your first job?

In high school, my first job was as a cashier at a pharmacy, which is where I actually met my future husband. We had our first kiss in that store, in aisle 11, next to the greeting cards and under the mylar balloons.

5) What was your first car?

Technically, my first car was a silver Ford Escort, which I got on my 16th birthday. That car, however, was stolen before I even got my driver's license so the closest I ever got to driving it was sitting behind the wheel. It was eventually recovered but the thief had taken it on a joy ride then put it in park with a brick on the gas pedal so the engine was blown. After that, I got a maroon Ford Tempo that had a cracked manifold. It sounded like the engine was falling out whenever you stepped on the gas. It did have automatic seat belts though, so that was pretty sweet. Not really, but whatever.

6) When did you go to your first funeral?

I think I was five when my great grandpa died. I vividly remember the smell of all the flowers and that everyone was taking them home after the wake. I seem to remember getting yelled at by someone when I picked up some pink carnations. Carnations are totally not worth getting yelled at over, by the way.

7) How old were you when you first moved away from your hometown?

I was twenty and I would never live there again.

8) Who was your first grade teacher?

Her name was Mrs. Smith. I remember her as very tall but that could very well be because I was short. The Challenger explosion was when I was in first grade and I remember that Mrs. Smith was a finalist in whatever program it was that eventually chose Christa McAuliffe to be the first teacher in space. Because of that, we were watching the launch in our classroom and when the shuttle exploded Mrs. Smith cried and went home early. My other memory is of this girl Andrea, who was one of a set of identical twins that were both in our class, puking on Mrs. Smith's feet while she read us a story. The only thing she said when puked upon was 'Oh, dear.' I bet she wanted to say "What the f*ck?" That's what I would say.

9) Where did you go on your first airplane ride?

I don't know for sure, but I'm willing to bet that it was Florida. My parents moved from Ohio to Florida when I was four months old. When I was two, they got divorced and my dad stayed in Florida and my mom moved back to Ohio with my brother and I. This one time, when I was four, my mom had to put me on a plane to Florida all by myself. I remember that I wore my favorite dress that was white with yellow flowers and I accidentally locked myself in the airplane bathroom and couldn't get out. Having parents in two different states sucks and to this day, I still hate goodbyes.

10) When you sneaked out of your house for the first time, who was it with?

Hmm, I don't think I ever actually sneaked out of the house. I was more of a skipper of school, once I started driving. There was this one time that I told my mom that I was spending the night at a friend's house and then we drove three hours a way to go to a keg party with some guys we had met while we were on Spring Break in Florida a few weeks earlier. That situation could have turned out really bad as there were some pretty unsavory individuals at that party. I'm still convinced that we were almost assaulted in an alley that we had to pee in because the bathroom in the house where the keg party was held was out of order. We were dumb girls. But also, who throws a keg party with a broken bathroom? People who pee standing up, that's who.

11) Who was your best friend and are you still friends with them?

In first grade, I was best friends with a girl named Sonya that lived right next door. Sonya's family was Lebanese and they were always inviting me to stay for dinner, which I hated. To my six year old self, hummus was pretty much like vomit on a plate. Sonya eventually fell out of my favor when she stole my Lifesavers pencil case, because obviously, RUDE. Her mom made her bring it back and apologize in front of my mom, but alas, our friendship did not survive the incident.

12) Where did you live the first time you moved out of parent's house?

My husband and I (who was still just my boyfriend at the time) moved into an apartment together two weeks before Violet was born. It was the easiest move I ever made because I actually had to work on moving day and since I was hugely pregnant anyway, there wasn't much I could help with. By the time I got home from work that day, everything was in and unpacked and I'm just now realizing that I have no idea who did all of that work. I do remember sitting on my bed and crying because I was nineteen, about to have a baby and I wanted to go home to my mom.

13) Who is the first person you call when you have a bad day?

It's a toss up between my mom and my husband...it depends on the situation.

14) Whose wedding were you in the first time you were a bridesmaid?

It was my cousin's wedding and I was in the 8th grade. We wore these horrible pink satin dresses with puffy sleeves and ruching on the bodice. We also rocked the dyed to match shoes and the piece de resistance was the fact that we each carried ONE fake rose as our 'bouquet'. I remember I walked with a groomsman who had played football with my cousin's husband in college and said groomsman was hoping to get picked up by a team in the upcoming NFL draft. He didn't. Also, my cousin is now divorced. I blame the horrible bridesmaid dresses. That's no way to start a marriage.

15) What is the first thing you do in the morning?

Open my eyes and think "Damn! Morning already?" I have insomnia, what can I say?

16) What was the first concert you attended?

My first concert was Bush, on the Sixteen Stone tour when No Doubt opened for them. I had a huge thing for Gavin Rossdale back then, who is now better known as Mr. Gwen Stefani. It was a good concert though.

17) First tattoo or piercing?

My first piercing was my ears when I was five. I did pierce my tongue when I was 18, but that didn't last long because my mom threatened to kick me out of the house when she saw it. I told her that I was taking it out not because she was kicking me out, but because I didn't like it that much anyway. It was totally because she was kicking me out. I also have two tattoos, a flower on my hip and a tiny ladybug on my foot. The flower I got the day I turned 18 just because I could. I'd like to get them both removed but haven't gotten around to it.

18) First celebrity crush?

I thought Ralph Macchio was the hottest thing going in Karate Kid. I never did write to any of my celebrity crushes. One time, I did write to Whitney Houston and remember that I was offended that she never answered me. Little did I know that she was too busy smoking crack to worry about writing some kid from Ohio.

19) First crush?

In second grade, I had a huge crush on a kid named Chad Becker. I'm not sure why, he was actually pretty funny looking, come to think of it. My first 'boyfriend' was a kid named Nick Dumas, in the fourth grade. We would hold hands under a table during silent reading time.

20) First real love?

My husband. That tends to be the case when you marry your high school sweetheart.

There you have it, internet. I hope you enjoyed this trip down Mother Chick's memory lane.

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A Mom Is Always A Mommy

I've reached the juncture as a parent where I can clearly see the young women my girls are going to become. Really, I should say the young women they are becoming. At almost 13, Violet is as tall as me, wears a women's size 10 shoe and looks about 16. Couple that with the fact that I'm often told that I look younger than I actually am and everyone always thinks we're sisters when we're out together. I'm sure I will appreciate this at some point but now, not so much. At 10, Lily is going through a definite awkward stage but even so, she's starting to care about things like clothes, hair and make up so I know she's not far behind her sister.

It sounds so cliche, but I really do feel like yesterday they were babies and I blinked and now we're here, teetering dangerously close to their teen years. My lap sits empty because my girls, who no matter what are still my babies, have outgrown it. There are no more bedtime stories, no more kissing boo boos to make them all better, no more picking them up in my arms and cuddling them close. I can see that there's a time, in the not too distant future, that they won't need me anymore. At least not in the way that they used to.

Sometimes though, when I least expect it, I catch a glimpse of my babies in my not quite yet young women. Someone hurts themselves and needs me to hold their hand until it feels better, someone says 'I'm scared and I miss you and I don't want to spend the night here, please come pick me up' or someone still wants me to tuck them in and kiss them goodnight. It's at these times that I remember.

A Mom is always a Mommy.

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Random Friday Thoughts

1) It's the first week of summer break here. So far, I've refereed more fights than I can count, picked Lily up from a friend's house at 11:30 PM from an aborted sleepover attempt, washed 237 loads of soggy beach towels and wet bathing suits and tried unsuccessfully to make our dog throw up when he ate a bouncy ball. A homemade bouncy ball, at that. There are 7 more weeks of summer vacation and I'm not sure we're going to make it. I'm going to count my blessings that my kids don't go to school with Phineas and Ferb, who get 104 days of summer vacation. I bet their moms drink, a lot.

2) So, the dog ate a bouncy ball, right? Then, he refused to throw up even though I followed the vet's instructions exactly (10 cc's of hydrogen peroxide down the gullet). I figured that when a foreign object is ingested, eventually it has to come out, one way or another right? Right. For the next couple of days, Violet was on poo watch and would report her findings every time he went out to do his business. The bouncy ball pieces never re-appeared but we did find some ribbon, some tape, a bandaid and pieces of a popsicle stick. Apparently, I have a Shih Tzu that moonlights as a carp. Well that, or he was trying to wrap a present, cut himself and decided to make it better with a bandaid and a popsicle.

3) This week, I was talking to a friend who said that they thought it was weird for people to eat at a restaurant or go see a movie by themselves. As someone who has done both of these things many times, I don't get it. What's wrong with some quality time by yourself? I know I tend to lean a little more on the 'loner' side of things, but I really don't see anything wrong with it. As a matter of fact, I'm probably going to go to the movies with me, myself and I this weekend. I want to see a movie thats in theaters right now that's a confirmed 'chick flick'. I know there's a snowball's chance in hell that Mr. Chick will go with me and all of my friends are busy. So, I'll just go by myself. Is that weird?

4) I'm not a very good photographer. I forget to bring our camera everywhere and if it wasn't for my husband, we'd probably have about 12 total pictures of our children. I just always seem to have better things to do than worry about taking pictures. Not to mention that when I do attempt to take pictures, they're blurry, or too dark, or too far away or too this or too that. Photography = Not My Thing. Given that, it makes total sense that I asked for a really nice and expensive camera for Mother's Day, right? Mr. Chick totally came through and purchased said camera and I think I've taken four or five pictures with it. This reminds me of the time I asked him to get me a scrapbooking kit for my birthday, which then sat on a shelf in a closet for the next five years before I finally decided that maybe I'm not so into the scrapbooking and sent it off to the Goodwill store. Yeah, it's just like that...but a lot more expensive this time. I better figure out how to use that thing.

5) I've mentioned it a few times on Twitter this week, but seriously, I think Jillian Michaels is trying to kill me. And she's doing it slowly, one 30 minute workout at a time. Seriously, people the 30 Day Shred workout is hard and I'm in fairly decent shape as a runner. It is, however, the best 30 minute workout I've ever done and I've done quite a few. If you are looking for a workout program that gives quick results in a short amount of time, RUN to get this DVD. The fact that it only takes about 30 minutes out of your day is a bonus, also. Here's the thing: You're supposed to do the workout every day. I've only done it every other day so far because I swear, my arms would fall off and beat me about the head if I tried to make them do that amount of push ups every single day. I'm going to attempt to do it every day next week and I'll update with my findings. If my arms fall off though, typing is going to be hard.

Have a lovely weekend!

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When I Grow Up...

When I was in the sixth grade, our teacher made us write a list of the things we wanted to accomplish in life. One of the things we had to list was the job that we thought we would have when we grew up. I wrote "I'm going to be a high school model, and then a marine biologist." First, I have no idea what I meant by a 'high school model'. I assume that I thought that I was going to have a successful modeling career from grades 9-12. Right, because those aren't awkward years at all. Apparently, I was kind of dumb in the 6th grade. I did go to high school with a girl that modeled in Japan and then did a short lived stint as eye candy on an MTV game show, all before we graduated. That's about as close to modeling as I got in high school, or ever, now that I think about it. So, 'high school model' never made it to the old resumé. Bummer.

As for the ‘marine biologist’ part of the equation, I totally copied that off of a friend of mine who didn't turn out to be a marine biologist, but did in fact become an archaeologist and now spends her days digging up old stuff in Ecuador. My marine biologist aspirations were over before they even began, as evidenced by the fact that I refused to dissect dead animals (like a fetal pig, ew!) in10th grade Honors Biology and failed that class voluntarily. It’s a good thing I had my modeling career to fall back on, right?

When my high school guidance counselor asked me what I wanted to major in when I went to college, I think I gave her a blank stare and said something along the lines of “Um, beer pong?” So, she made me take one of those aptitude tests that's supposed to match your personality with a career. According to my personality, I should be a flight attendant. Right, because herding people and luggage into a narrow metal tube with wings and serving drinks at 30,000 feets sounds like an awesome career choice. I decided to stick with the beer pong.

When I got to college, I realized that they don’t actually let you major in beer pong. I know, right? I was surprised too. I went ahead and picked the next most reasonable option. Fashion Merchandising. Because LOTS of community college students in Ohio major in fashion, right?Turns out, not so much. In quick succession, I changed said major to Secondary Education (because who wouldn’t want to shape the youth of today? Apparently, me – which is why this major didn’t last long either) and then Nursing (see my Honors Biology story to learn why this didn’t work out - obviously I had not learned much since the 6th grade and was still pretty dumb).

Now, if you do the math on my age versus the age of our oldest daughter, you’ll notice that I actually ended up majoring in ‘Mommy’ in college. Let me tell you, this really put a damper on the beer pong, which was still my unofficial major at the time. It was the one that I managed to stick with the longest. You’ve got to have goals people, am I right?

These days, I’m an executive at a marketing company, so it all worked out in the end. Clearly, I narrowly avoided my fate as a marine biologist/flight attendant/fashion merchandiser/teacher/nurse/beer pong coach. That would have been hard to fit on the diploma, anyway.

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Random Friday Thoughts - Annoying Edition

1) Earlier this week, I was in the checkout line at the grocery store when the cashier scanned my bag of chips and threw the bag toward the bagging section. The thing had a hang time of at least three seconds and there was the definite sound of chip breakage on impact. Now, I could see if the bag of chips was a small part of a large grocery order and she was in a zone scanning multiple items, but nope. The chips were the only thing that I bought. For a minute, I contemplated telling her that she needed to get me a new bag and then decided that was more hassle than I felt like dealing with at the time. Once in the parking lot, I pulled out of my parking spot only to be prevented from leaving by a store associate gathering carts and blocking the entire exit for at least five minutes. WTF? The motto of this grocery store is "Where shopping is a pleasure." I'm contemplating writing to them to suggest they change it to "Where shopping is a pleasure, unless you're in the checkout line or parking lot. Then it kind of sucks." Annoying.

2) If you ever get a craving for key lime pie, get some Fiber One Key Lime Pie Yogurt and some sliced almonds. Mix together and enjoy the deliciousness. If you want to go all out, I suppose you could throw in some graham cracker crumbs and top with whipped cream but that obviously negates some of the 'low calorie' deliciousness. This will kick a key lime pie craving square in the crotch. You are welcome.

3) I recently had to 'unfriend' my oldest friend in the world. This was my best friend from the time we were 8 years old, my partner in crime all the way through elementary, middle and high school, the maid of honor in my wedding. Trust me when I say that cutting her off was justified and while I am absolutely sure that I did the right thing. That said, I keep having dreams where she calls me to apologize for what happened between us. Does that mean that it bothers me to not be her friend anymore or that I still think she owes me an apology? I hadn't even talked to her in over a year before the incident that caused the unfriending, other than random Facebook posts, so I'm voting for the latter. Annoying.

4) I was a champion speller when I was in school. I'm not even kidding. I won the school spelling bee two or three years in a row and went on to the county spelling bee from 4th through 8th grade. All of a sudden, I'm forgetting how to spell words. What is up with that? I blame texting. As I was titling this post the 'Annoying Edition' I started to type 'Annoying Addition' before I caught myself. Also, I'm constantly guilty of run on sentences, until I catch myself and edit. WTF? I blame texting. Also annoying.

5) You know those copy/paste Facebook status posts? "Put this as your status for one hour if you know someone who has died of cancer," etc. I secretly hate those. Yes, I know people who have died of cancer, I have an awesome mom, a fabulous sister, I love my kids, I support our troops, etc etc etc. I just prefer to think my own original thoughts, thanks. Annoying.

What do you find annoying today?

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My Non-Shrinking Violet

Violet has always been my 'shrinking violet'. She is shy, easily intimidated and sensitive beyond belief. Early on in her school days, she was dubbed the 'crybaby' because she cries at the drop of a hat (seriously, she even cries at weddings...what kid do you know that does that? Violet, that's who). I knew that we would have bullying problems because kids can be evil and they will spot your faults and use them against you for shits and giggles, because they are assholes like that.

Not surprisingly, Violet had a few problems at school with some 'mean girls.' Sixth grade is BRUTAL people, and sixth grade girls, lo, they are bitches. At the time, I tried my very best to turn each incident into a learning experience for Violet, when I really wanted to march into that school and smack those girls in their bitch faces give those girls a piece of my mind. Alas, trying to explain to a pre-teen girl that it's not the end of the world to have people make fun of you at school was like trying to get Lily, my younger daughter, to let me brush her hair so she didn't look like she styled it with a fork every day. That is to say, my attempts were futile and I knew we were in for a long haul with middle school.

Nonetheless, I stayed the course every single time and encouraged Violet to stay above the fray. My instructions were simple: try to be friends with everyone and if somebody says something about you, starts a rumor, or just acts like an asshat in general, IGNORE IT because they are looking for a reaction from you. If you don't react, they will get bored and go away. And, if you hear someone talking about someone else behind their back, you should be a friend and stick up for the person getting trashed because you know how that feels.

I could never be sure if my message was getting across until several months later when Violet mentioned that some kids were laughing at one of her friends in the cafeteria that day because she has cancer and has no hair, and it was making her friend cry (I told you, bitches, right??). When I asked Violet what happened after her friend started crying she said "I remembered what you said, Mom. So I went over to those girls and told them that she can't help that she has no hair and that she is way prettier than they are because they're making themselves look ugly by making fun of someone who is sick."

When I recovered from the shock of my Violet asserting herself, she went on. "Then I told them that if they want to make fun of someone, make fun of me instead, because I don't care what they say about me and I can take it. And other than that they should keep their mouths shut and quit being rude to everybody because they just look stupid."

When I asked how the mean girls responded, she said "They didn't say anything else after that, I think they knew I was serious. And my friend felt better after someone stuck up for her, so you were right, Mom. I'm glad I stood up for my friend."

That, my friends, was a proud parenting moment. She's not such a shrinking violet after all.

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As A Matter of Fact, I Won't Be Your Neighbor

In a previous post, I mentioned the fact that we moved in the fairly recent past. What I failed to mention is that we moved from a regular neighborhood to a gated community. For the last few years, I coveted this community. In my head, I had pretty much likened it to a suburban utopia. Look! Big two story houses! Pretty lampposts! Award winning landscaping! A dog park called "Barkley Park," how clever! And look at the resort style community pool complete with a winding waterslide and kids splash zone! Surely this community had to be heaven right here on earth, right? Right.

Shortly after moving in, however, I discovered something about myself. An important something. I am not really a 'gated community' type of person. Apparently, there are a few key rules to follow in order to flourish here in Utopia and I lack these skills because I just don't give enough of a crap about other people's business. Read on though, to discover how you too can become a maven of Gated Community Society. I'm told it's a very prestigious post.

1) You must be nosy and care who's having an affair with who, who got drunk at the Valentine's Day 'Sweetheart Social' (and you should actually want to attend crap called the 'Sweetheart Social') and who hasn't paid their association dues in two years. I don't care about any of that and I also don't care who keeps their garbage cans out at the street for more than 24 hours after trash pick up (scandalous!) or who saw police cars on their street two nights ago (there goes the neighborhood!). Mind your own business, people. Nobody cares. Or maybe that's just me. Whatever.

2) Another responsibility of any good gated community citizen is to guard the front gate with your life. If someone tries to tailgate you in the gate, you should automatically brake check said individual, roll down your car window and accuse them of trying to get in the gate without a code. Even if the person behind you clearly has a resident sticker that opens the damn gate, just like YOU do. This might have happened to me and I might have jumped out of my car in the middle of the street and told the jackass in the Prius to mind his own damn business (although I might have replaced the 'damn' with another word that might begin with the letter F) because as a matter of fact, I do live here, asshole. But, I digress. Never mind the fact that the back gate is open ALL DAY and anyone can get in that gate WHENEVER they want...you should guard the front gate like Fort Knox. The security of the community depends on you!

3) If you're over the age of 65 or so, it's important to operate under the notion that you live in a retirement community when actually, you do not. As such, you should scowl, snipe and yell at all the kids in the community whenever possible because clearly, they are up to no good. Selfish kids, for wanting to use the bike paths, sports courts and parks! Isn't it obvious that their mere existence in these areas encroaches on your enjoyment of the community? Apparently the sign out front that calls this a 'family' community wasn't prominent enough when you were looking for a place to live out your golden years, Mr. and Mrs. Retiree. Too bad for you.

As you can see, being a good Gated Community Citizen is a big responsibility. But, if you follow the few simple rules above, you too can be part of this exclusive club. We have big two story houses! Award winning landscaping! Pretty lampposts! And don't forget the cleverly named dog park and resort style pool with waterslide and splash zone! Move right in! You know you want to.

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Let's Try This Again...

In my defense, in one of my last posts I did say that I was going to be a lazy blogger. Yep, that's me. Recently however, I've found myself thinking more and more about writing again. And, you know that when you're equating your day to day happenings with blog posts, it's time to get off your arse and do something about it.

So, here we go again. Mother Chick Part II.

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