Month: May 2005

Warning: this post has a number of references to donkey kicking. I don’t normally use such harsh language, but I do feel quite strongly about this subject. If you are offended by donkey kicking, feel free to click away. You could go read about why Grover is bitter.

Dear Neighbors,

We all get along really, really well. Our neighborhood is generally very nice and peaceful. However, as the parent of a young child, it has recently come to my attention that many of you do not have children, or have not had young children for many years. I can only assume that either you are not aware of – or have forgotten – what it is like to have a small child. So, I’d like to put forth the following suggestions:

• If you blast loud music in your open car sitting out in your driveway after my baby has gone to bed, and it wakes her up, I will kick your ass.
• If your visitors, upon leaving your house after my baby has gone to bed, honk their car horns as they pull out of your driveway and it wakes her up, I will kick your ass.
• If you rev your car/lawnmower/ATV/motorcycle engine loud enough to be heard three counties away and it wakes my baby up, I will kick your ass.
• If you fire off illegal firecrackers or fireworks on any night except the Fourth of July and wake my baby up, I will kick your ass.
• If you cause my dogs to bark by walking your dog past my house after my baby has gone to bed and it wakes her up, I will not kick your ass. Since you are a much more conscientious dog owner than I am because you actually walk your dog, you can have mine. For free!

As you can see, these really are not hard rules to follow, all you have to do is be considerate of the fact that even though it does stay light quite late these days, my baby still needs to go to bed at a reasonable hour. Although I do truly enjoy rocking my baby to sleep, I don’t enjoy doing it several times every evening, or even worse: rocking her to sleep only to have her awakened the very moment I am tucking her in.

I am willing to compromise about the ass-kicking. Perhaps the offending party could come and rock my baby back to sleep for me? Or, really, I’m not above bribery – cash or dark chocolate might do the trick.

Thank you for your consideration,
Your loving neighbor
(…who is contemplating moving way out into the country, or at least somewhere cold enough to keep the windows shut all the time…)

Hm, I think we’ve done our civic duty this long weekend…

We opened the pool.
We grilled – for three days straight. (I think I need to eat nothing but salad for the next three weeks.)
We did not, unfortunately, see a parade – everyone thought it would be too noisy for Carrie. Maybe next year!

You know, keeping my room clean would be a lot easier if I didn’t have everything from a size 8 to a size 18 (there, yes, I said it) stuffed in every possible shelf and drawer.

Seriously, I have a double dresser all to myself, a huge armoire that is way more than half mine, and the lion’s share of the (tiny) walk-in closet, and I can’t put the clothes that I actually wear away – they’ve been living in a neatly folded pile in the middle of the room. How pathetic is that?

I’ve decided that the easiest way to lose weight (and keep my room clean) is to get rid of all of the clothes I own that are too small. Murphy’s law says that once I get rid of them I’ll need them, so I may as well put it to the test. Besides, what better way is there to celebrate losing weight than going out and buying nice new clothes?

So I’m parting with a lot of stuff (some of which is really hard to part with so it may hide in a box somewhere for a little while) and then I just need to work on the whole weight loss thing. You would think with the amount of time I spend running after Carrie and hauling her around that I’d be super skinny by now. Ah, well. I guess I’d just settle for being in shape…

But honestly, I’m not going to obsess over numbers on the scale or on the tags for my clothes, I’d just like to have clothes that fit me (size and style) and that fit into my storage space.

We just couldn’t make it home yesterday, we were all so tired. Fortunately my grandparents live in Ithaca, so we crashed there for the night. They were thrilled to see Carrie, so it worked out all around.

While we were visiting after Carrie when to bed, my grandpa taught me how to play poker (I’ve never really been into cards enough to learn) and I cleaned everyone out. Probably just beginner’s luck, but at least now I know how to play.

I am just very glad to finally be home again. The puppies are glad we’re home too!

(Although, based on how much sleep I actually got last night, I feel like maybe I should be…)

Spamalot! was fantastic! I think I can honestly say it’s the funniest musical I’ve ever seen, and possibly ever will see. We had front row balcony seats, which were wonderful, and we got to see the entire cast. (I was a little worried that since it was just a Tuesday show some of the bigger stars might not actually perform.)

My absolute favorite songs/scenes were “The Song That Goes Like This” and the part that spoofed Fiddler on the Roof. Oh, but the whole show was gloriously funny and I would highly recommend it to anyone who likes Monty Python humor.

We went out to dinner after and generally had a great adult evening out. It was nice to walk around Times Square again – it’s been a couple of years since we’ve actually made it into Manhattan while visiting Denis’ family.

Apparently, Carrie didn’t enjoy the evening quite so much. Bedtime without Mommy or Daddy was a little stressful, and by the time we got home a little after 11 she was one very unhappy baby. She didn’t settle down until about 1:30, and then was up at 6:15 for the day. So I got 4 hours of sleep because I didn’t manage to get into bed until a little after 2. Ugh. And we get to drive 7 hours today. Can anyone say “naptime”?

Today is our 6th wedding anniversary. We’re didn’t really do much to celebrate, since we’re going to see Spamalot! on Tuesday. But we did spend the day with Carrie and two of our nieces:

I used to get terribly carsick on rides with my family, but I thought I’d grown out of it. Nope. Apparently, the backseat is a really bad place for me to be in a car, and especially behind the driver. Carrie’s new carseat is behind the passenger seat, and since we had to drive for several hours I sat in the back with her. The first few hours were smooth sailing, but when we hit traffic and it was stop and go for two straight hours I really thought I was going to lose my lunch.

(And Denis wants to drive to Florida next summer when we go on our big family vacation. I think I may have to stock up on Dramamine or something…)