Posts Tagged ‘life’

Anybody there?

(tap, tap)

Hello?

Helllllloo?

HELLLOOOOO????

(tap, tap)

Bueller?  Bueller?

Oh, imaginary friends, how I’ve missed you so!  We have never been separated so long before and I do have to say that absence definitely does make the heart grow fonder because I just kept thinking as I sat on the phone with AT&T every day yelling at someone in India about my internet connection not working, “Gosh, I wonder what those crazy imaginary friends are up to these days?”

Though, when I tried to explain to the person in India that I needed them to get my internet working STAT because I had thousands of imaginary friends that I was about to lose if I didn’t talk to them soon, I think they purposefully took longer than necessary to get my internet working again.

DON’T JUDGE ME, AT&T!  DON’T JUDGE ME AND MY IMAGINARY RELATIONSHIP WITH THESE IMAGINARY PEOPLE!

Thankfully, a nice technician came out to our house today and pushed some buttons on the little box doo-hickey thingy on the side of our house and said, “You have internet.”

Then I squealed.

Then I jumped in the pool with Bean Man.

Then he squealed.

But, lo and behold, when I sat down at my computer later today, there was still no internet.  So, I took drastic measures.  I got Chris involved.

Getting Chris involved in problems that require speaking to automated systems is always a last resort because he pitches fits like a little girl (no offense, my masculine hubby wubby…).  But, he’s pretty good about stepping in when I’ve had enough and so today I handed the internet problem over to him.

As we sat on the couch tonight in our uber spacious, uber cozy, uber box-filled living room, Chris called AT&T while I sat next to him stuffing my face with Domino’s and watching the Auburn Mississippi State football game (P.S. It took me three tries to spell Mississippi right when I typed that…) (P.S.S.  I just copied and pasted Mississippi into that last sentence so I wouldn’t have to type it again…) (P.S.S.S. DON’T JUDGE ME, AT&T!).  I could tell he got the automated system because he started speaking incredibly slow, which always throws those automated things off.  So, he kept having to repeat himself.

AT&T Automated System:  Please tell me the reason for your call.

Chris:  Technical support.

AT&T Automated System:  I’m sorry, I did not understand that response.  Please tell me the reason for your call.

Chris:  Tech-ni-cal Sup-port.

AT&T Automated System:  I’m sorry, I did not understand that response.  Please tell me the reason for your call.

Chris:  Problem with my internet connection.

AT&T Automated System:  I’m sorry, I did not understand that response.  Please tell me the reason for your call.

Chris:  I’m having a problem with my in-ter-net con-nec-tion.

AT&T Automated System:  I’m sorry, I did not understand that response.  Please tell me the reason for your call.

Chris:  MY SH*T ISN’T WORKING!!!!!

And that, dear imaginary friends, is why we don’t let Chris talk to automated systems.  That is also how we got our internet restored tonight.

Anyway, the long and the short of it is that we have finally moved into our new house and we finally have internet and so I am finally able to talk to you again.  I would love to show you pictures of our new house, but Chris is being a fuddy duddy and won’t let me take any pictures until we get the house looking more organized.  This simply means that I shall wait until he goes to work tomorrow and then I will take pictures and post them to the world wide web.

Speaking of jobs, I still haven’t started mine yet.  Bummer.  But I guess when you’re going to be in a classroom with young adults molding and shaping the minds of tomorrow, they want to make sure you haven’t killed anyone and that you don’t have crack in your back pocket.  So, I did my background check and drug testing this week and pending any problems with those (which would be odd seeing as to how I am afraid of drugs and the only violent behavior I have been prone to is occasionally throwing a Tupperware lid at Chris…), I should start teaching on Monday.  I’m super, super excited.  Super.  Super, super excited.  I even went out today to a teacher supply store and bought decorations for my classroom.  And I may or may not have also bought a black t-shirt with a little red apple on the front pocket…

I cannot confirm nor deny those allegations.

But I did.

Today I also took Bean to meet his new teachers at the daycare where he’ll be going.  I love this daycare.  Love it.  And apparently Bean does, too, because when we got into the classroom he took off and joined the other little dudes for circle time and never even looked around for me.  I just hung back like a lame, hovering parent.  And then I started whispering his name and making him blow me kisses.  And then they suggested that maybe I should wait out in the hallway.  And then I grabbed Bean and ran out of there and hid him under my bed where he will stay until he is either ready to admit that he cannot live without me or until he turns 18 and I can’t legally keep him there any longer.

All in all, it has been a really exciting, nerve-wracking, busy, happy time for our family this past week.  But we are finally getting settled into our new house and with my job starting Monday and Bean heading back to daycare, our schedule should settle down again.

What this means for YOU is that I’m back to my regularly scheduled blogging now.  Every day.  And you can’t make me stop.

So there.

This weekend we moved out of the house we’ve been renting for the past six months.  I’ve never been happier to leave somewhere before.  After the break in, it was next to impossible to make that place feel like a home.  We are meeting today to sign our lease on our new house which is much bigger, in a much nicer neighborhood, and even has a pool!  This nice little upgrade is brought to you by TWO INCOMES!  Yay for employment!

Unfortunately, we can’t move into the new house until this weekend and so we packed up and moved everything into a storage unit for this week.  We get to move in on Sunday.  I can’t wait!

What all this means for today is that I am officially homeless.  Which isn’t necessarily a terrible thing considering where we just came from.  It also means that we have moved even more junk into my parent’s house.  We’ve been here for the past week and will continue to stay here this week until we move in next weekend.  Last week we had the things we needed to live in my parent’s house.  We brought out clothes and some of Bean’s toys and things like that.  But now that we have moved out, we brought even more crap home to mom and dad’s.

Now, there are miscellaneous boxes just hanging out all over the house.

And some of Bean’s bigger toys had to make the trip home with us, too. So the living room looks more like a daycare center.

And my mom’s big, clean kitchen counters have become flooded with the odds and ends that it takes to make our family run. Bean’s sippy cups, Goldfish, bread, snacks… The counters runneth over.

We’ve also moved our computer and office stuff into the breakfast nook, which means we are eating most of our meals as a family either at the formal dining room table or in the living room on our laps.

But the messiest area is without a doubt our bedroom. Chris, Bean, me, and the two dogs are staying in one of my parent’s guest bedrooms. We’ve got it as neatly organized as it can be, but we’re making a big stinking mess in there. Although, some of the things that look like a mess are really serving a purpose. Like, see that towel on the bed there? That’s Bean’s changing table, not dirty laundry.

And see that pile of random bags? Those each serve a purpose. One is my school bag, one is my bathroom bag with my toiletries, one is Bean’s new diaper bag (his old big one was stolen), and that big suitcase is full of shoes.

Oh, and look. There’s one of our televisions. Right there in our bedroom, in the box. How nice. And that’s our mail that we are trying to keep in one place so we don’t lose anything important during this transition period. And those are clothes that need to be dry cleaned (which I have to hide from my dad because he does laundry like a machine and if I leave clothing laying around, it’s going to be washed). See? All of that is useful, purpose-driven stuff.

Even though everything has some kind of use, it still feels a little chaotic. I keep losing things like my cell phone charger and the other day I even forgot where I put Lt. Dan!

But even with all of that going on, nothing can damper the excitement that Chris and I are feeling right now. We are so excited to be moving into the new house that we can’t even stand it! This new house has the same square footage as our house in Connecticut, so we’ll actually be able to unpack all of our things that we have had boxed up since we moved to Florida in March. I miss my serving dishes! I miss my candlesticks! I miss my throw pillows! And on Sunday, I GET TO SEE THEM!!

Until then though, I’ll be here at my parent’s house, trying to find my hair straightener and Bean’s left shoe. I know I’ve seen them here somewhere…

(Warning: This post is about poop.  Lots of poop.  Proceed at your own risk.  Just be thankful that my camera cord is still missing and so I don’t have any pictures to share.)

For the first few years of Lucy’s life, I was living in college apartments.  That meant that she learned how to walk on a leash pretty good because I had to walk her every day.  She got so good that she could actually go to the bathroom on command.

“Go potty, Lucy.”

Done.

But when we got Big Molly, we lived in a house with a fenced in backyard which meant that she never really learned to walk much on a leash.  Anytime we took her somewhere to run her, she was off-leash in a fenced in field and a leash usually wasn’t necessary.  She’s not horrible on a leash, but she isn’t great.  And she certainly can’t go to the bathroom on command.  In fact, Big Molly is having a hard time going to the bathroom at all now that we are at my parent’s house and having to walk her on a leash.  She doesn’t like an audience and so whenever we walk her, she happily goes for a little walk but there isn’t much business being done.

(I promise there is a reason for me to tell you about my dog’s bowel movements.)

So, yesterday afternoon when Chris got home from work, we decided to take the dogs to the dog park here where my parents live.  It is one of the nicest dog parks I’ve ever been to and our dogs love it.  Without the fenced in backyard to run around in, the dogs have a big case of cabin fever so we thought a good romp might do the trick.

We loaded up in the golf cart (yes, our dogs ride in the golf cart…) and we headed over to the park.  This park is in a huge field that is fenced in and divided in the middle – one side for the little dogs and one for the big dogs.  When we got there, I took Lucy over to the little dog side and Chris grabbed Big Molly to walk her over to the big dog side.

But they barely made it out of the golf cart before Big Molly decided that she needed to go to the bathroom RIGHT NOW.  Right there on the sidewalk.  Humiliated, Chris started grumbling under his breath and Lucy and I scooted into the little dog side before anyone knew we were with them.  Chris cleaned up the mess and then took Molly into the fenced in area.

Molly proceeded to spend the next 20 minutes pooping all over the dog park.  All over it.  Chris couldn’t get one cleaned up before she was squatting somewhere else.  And, I don’t know how familiar you are with dog parks, but it’s pretty poor form to have your dog crap all over the place.  You’re supposed to walk your dog before you come in to keep the area clean, but accidents happen.  So, once or twice isn’t that big of a deal.  But Molly probably went to the bathroom 7 or 8 times.

And the whole time, everyone was looking and staring and pointing and whispering at Chris.  What a terrible pet owner!  But it wasn’t Chris’ fault.  It was all Big Molly.  It was like she had been saving up for the entire week we’ve been here and now that we were out in front of everyone, she was ready to let it all go.

I was dying laughing.

Dying.

Couldn’t stand up straight.

Couldn’t catch my breath.

Chris spent the entire time we were there acting as a human pooper scooper.  And I know we probably should have taken Molly out of there, but she really needed to run.  She’s been cooped up in a house for a week with no fenced in backyard.  Girlfriend needed to run!

And apparently use the bathroom, too.

The whole time this was happening, Lucy was sitting next to the fence calmly, staring at Big Molly in complete disgust.  It was the look that said, “You are an animal and I can’t believe you are my sister.”

And then Molly would crap again.

I think that Chris ended up running around more than Molly did as he followed her around with plastic bags.

The moral of this story is that even if you have a fenced in backyard, you should still teach your dog to go to the bathroom on a leash because you never know when your house will be broken into and you’ll have to relocate temporarily to your parent’s house where there are no fenced in backyards and walking on a leash is the only option.  And in that situation, you will desperately want your dog to be able to go to the bathroom on a leash.

If you doubt this in any way, talk to my husband.  The Human Pooper Scooper.