A Typical School Day Morning:
5am Hubby leaves for his 2+ hour commute to current job location.
6:15am Re-awoken by alarm blaring (enter title here) song from local Christian Radio station, slap snooze.
6:25am Alarm goes off again; new song blaring. Slap snooze again.
6:30am Decide to turn off alarm as brain is running anyway and sleep is no longer possible. Lie as still as possible while ruminating over the day's upcoming events (kids off to school, errands to run, chores to complete, hockey games, swim practice....)
6:32am Remember that there is still half a DVR'd Hallmark movie to watch, flip on TV and resume movie.
6:39am Tearing up over sweetness of Hallmark movie love story plot.
6:44am Hear basement shower go on; oldest child in shower. Glance at clock to check start time.
6:49am Cry a little more over Hallmark movie, check child's showering time so far.
6:55am Shower still going. Movie almost over.
6:59am Think: That child better get out soon or her brother won't have any hot water! Wish I knew how to turn off the hot water and surprise her...
7:01am Hear the CLUNK as basement shower is shut off. Movie over, flip to Fox News.
7:05am Decide that am still burned-out from the election and really don't give a crap that Romney is having lunch with Obama, so Obama can a) look like he's a real gentleman and b) steal Romney's ideas and pass them off as his own regarding the budget crisis, so turn off Fox News and roll out of bed.
7:15am In kitchen hoping for some coffee, only to find that hubby has emptied coffee pot completely. Mutter to self about no coffee while grinding coffee beans.
7:16am Oldest child attempts to get into my coffee-making space to make breakfast for herself. Tease her by getting into her space right back.
7:17am Dancing in circles in middle of kitchen, hand over my eye, saying "Gross! Gross! Gross! You licked my eye!" while oldest child and 16 year old son laugh at me. Say to oldest child "Don't lick your friends!" Her response: "At least I didn't bite you."
7:21am 16 year old son hands me dress shirt and pants and says "Thanks mommy," before going downstairs to a (probably cold) shower.
7:23am 8 year old child comes into kitchen still in pjs, saying "It's pajama & movie day at school today, so all I had to do was put on my boots and hat on. We get to watch 'Santa Buddies' and not 'A Christmas Story' or 'Inkheart' because my teacher forgot to tell us we can only watch 'G' movies." ("A Christmas Story" isn't Rated-G? Who knew? Good thing I didn't let her take "Christmas Vacation" like she wanted to!)
7:28am Ironing shirt and pants. Get into argument with oldest child over her date for the Sadie Hawkins dance. Feeling very much lied to. Am told "YOU NEVER LET ME DO ANYTHING!" (Lies! Lies! Damn lies!) Take away oldest child's car keys and tell her to find a ride or ride the bus.
7:31am Still fighting with oldest child over fact that boy she "isn't dating" is disrespectful because a) he rarely drives, b) when he does drive, he doesn't even pull into driveway to pick her up, c) and the fact that he needs to get over his "fear" of me and come into our house, because really? That text message telling him that if he drove her car again and I found out that I would report it stolen was so 7 months ago - get over it already, man up and come into the dang house or I really will give him a reason to be scared of me.
7:40am Boy-child comes upstairs in shorts, wondering why he has no clothes yet, and if he has to ride the bus, how will he do it without pants?
7:42am Finish ironing boy's pants and shirt, vowing that he will get better shirts than the 65/35 poly/cotton blend hubby bought him (no wonder the shirts "tear up his neck"!).
7:45am Make youngest child her requested PBJ sammie for breakfast. Fight some more with oldest child. Text BFF today's troubles. Fight irritation over the fact that maybe she is right and that I am overreacting (I NEVER OVERREACT!) again. Happy she agrees with me about being lied to and that boy needs to be more respectful.
7:50am Grudgingly give keys back to oldest child, with conditions: a) She finds other friends than boy to hang out with this weekend, b) that he drives and comes to door to pick her up if she does hang out with him, and c) that they start hanging out here more often because it is impossible to trust someone with my baby-girl who refuses to actually let me get to know them. She agrees and snatches the keys from me.
8:15am Two oldest children run out the door to school. Youngest children dressed, teeth-brushed, hair-brushed, on couch, playing Wii. Think, I have time to check my email before they have to be out the door... crack open laptop and log-on.
8:31am See email from son's hockey coach, telling us that 8 year old "Sparkles" will be welcome to sing "National Anthem" at hockey games when there isn't a music student there to do it. Tell Sparkles, who bounces around like a puppy in happiness. Ask her, "Some of the games you'd have to miss swim practice in order to be there to sing for the Varsity - would that be ok?" Her reply: "UM, YEAH, MOM! I'd rather sing than swim any day!" (Guess her getting a swimming scholarship to college like her older sister is out.)
8:47am Look up from computer and realize that the girls have 4 minutes before their bus will come; yell "Girls! You gotta Go!"
8:48 Mass panic ensues, reminiscent of the proverbial "Flying around like a fart in a mitten," as the three of us run around trying to find boots, mittens, hats (heehee cute sparkly Santa hats!), backpacks, agendas, jackets, snowpants, etc.
8:51am Girls at bus-stop. Did not miss bus. Back to the computer for me. Now what?
MNHOCKEYMAMA You've entered our world now; unless otherwise noted, all posts are my thoughts/opinions/musings; callin' it like I see it.
Thursday, November 29, 2012
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
Fun with the Neighbors Part II
As mentioned in my previous post, "Fun with the Neighbors Part I", my next-door neighbors drive me a little crazy. The only upside of this situation is that I'm pretty sure we drive them equally crazy, which goes to show that there really is justice in the universe.
With the great weather this fall, the farmers across the road from our neighborhood were able to get their crops in quite early, leaving the fields crowded with Canada geese gleaning the dropped corn kernels all day. Once goose hunting season started, we were awakened early on Fri-Sun mornings by hunting sounds - gunfire and geese honking as hunters took advantage of the easy access to thousands of birds. Growing up around guns and having many friends who hunt, the only feeling I had about the gunshots I heard was irritation from the fact that I was being woken up far earlier than I wanted to be on weekends. This sentiment was shared by my neighbor to the south - he too, did not appreciate the 5am gunfire - and, in past years, went so far as to call the police on the hunters. Legally, they are allowed to hunt on the land across the road since it is privately owned, and birdshot does not travel far enough to threaten any residences, so his call was to complain about his peace being disturbed (he also admitted to me that he was a bit jealous because he wasn't hunting with the hunters which added to his irritation when making the complaint to the police).
My neighbors to the north, however, being from California, decided instead to make a complaint to our city, citing that the hunting was a danger to residents in nearby neighborhoods and going so far as to say that our entire neighborhood was also worried about the dangers of hunting in the fields across the road from our homes. Which is to say that the residents of the neighborhood with whom my neighbor speaks on a regular basis, may or may not have an issue with the hunting. She did not ask me my opinion; if she had, I would have happily told her what I thought. (I'm guessing that's why she never asked me.) Instead, I only learned of her complaint when I was approached by a reporter for our local city newspaper who happened to see my daughter and I outside our house after she had been interviewing next door neighbor about her complaint.
At first I thought the reporter was stopping by to talk to my fantastically talented daughter about the fact that she had just participated in Early National Signing Day and had rocked at the State Championship Swim Meet the prior weekend. My disappointment was short-lived, however, when I learned the actual reason for the reporter's appearance in my neighborhood. (I have to admit that she may have thought I was nuts for the cackling laughter and snorting that I couldn't hold back when she told me her reason for being there.) She asked me if the neighbor had ever talked to me about the hunting, mentioning that my neighbor had claimed knowledge that the entire neighborhood was concerned. She asked me if I would be willing to go on the record how I felt about the goose hunting, and once I stopped snickering, I told her that while I didn't appreciate being woken early in the a.m., it was private land, so it didn't matter what I thought - they were legal to do it. I then asked her: "Did she tell you they moved here from California last year? Did you ask her for her views on the 2nd Amendment? Did you mention to her that a) that land is being developed into a subdivision early next year and hunting will no longer be allowed and b) that she has more chance of getting hit by a stray bullet in downtown (enter big city name of your choice here) than by birdshot in her backyard, especially when it is protected by her 6' privacy fence?" I also told her that I wished that they would allow more hunting - bow, not gun, mind you - within city limits as the night before I had followed two deer who were out for their evening constitutional on a residential street two blocks to the north of my own neighborhood, and that I was tired of the coyotes barking nearby every night and the raccoon that loved to harass my dogs. (By the way, my suburb has a population of 50k+ and while we still have woods and farmlands nearby, we are by no means truly "rural" in nature.)
While I was chatting it up with the reporter, I noticed my neighbor in her car, high-tailing it out of her driveway while giving me the ol' stink-eye. It was about that time that the reporter asked if I thought any of our other neighbors would be willing to share their views on the issue, to which I responded "Yes!" and helpfully pointing out which neighbors were hunters and/or who actually talked to my neighbor on a regular basis. The last I saw of the reporter, she was being welcomed into the house across the street, home of one of the many hunters who has resided here for more than 20 years.
The next day, hubby and I took advantage of the unseasonably warm temperatures (mid 60s on Thanksgiving Day Eve?! No Way!) to "Griswold" our house: dragging out of our attic all the working lights, candy-canes, Santa, Sleigh, Reindeer, etc. and installing them on our house. (It really is a good thing we have no HOA here or we'd be in severe violation of "single-color"/"clear/white light only" rules, etc.) We love the Christmas Season and sharing Christmas cheer with our neighbors by having the largest light display possible, which is celebrated with the "Annual Lighting Ceremony" on Thanksgiving night, modeled after the Griswolds of "Christmas Vacation," complete with "drum rolls" produced by whomever is still at our house after dark on Thanksgiving Day and the singing of the Star Spangled Banner by my BFF, after which every one usually hurries back inside, complaining of the cold and asking why we insisted on having them outside to witness the turning on of our glorious lights.
The fact that our neighbors have yet to put a single light on their house last season or so far this season only contributes to our glee regarding our over-the-top display - if we can be annoying them in the process, it truly does make the work it took to create the display all the more worth it.
Black Friday morning found BFF and I up and at Menards at 5am, then on to Mills Fleet Farm at 6am (yes, we really are geeks! But the deals at Menards were really awesome.) which was where I found the final piece to this year's Christmas Light Display: A Six Foot Inflatable Snowman Hunter, complete in camo and wielding a shotgun! I snatched up the box and took it home with me, intent upon putting it in the front yard, six inches from the lot line between the neighbors' home and our's. Hubby even seemed excited with the prospect of tweaking the neighbors, laughing over the irony that we aren't even hunters!
Alas, it was not to be: our light display this year is too big this year for the crappily wired electrical system of my house as it is, and the addition of my wonderful Camo-Clad Snowman would require that we not only not run the microwave after dark, but also be relegated back to using candles for light (and while that seems like fun for a while, the thought of the 16, 8 and 6 year old children playing "Pioneers" while wandering around with lit candles scares the crap out of me) if we wanted to keep from blowing circuit breakers every 30 seconds. So unfortunately, I had to take the Snowman back to Fleet Farm. (I promise though, next year, I will give up the candy-canes and even the sleigh and reindeer if I can have Mr. Snowman Hunter in my yard.)
~~ Still waiting to see an actual article printed about the goose hunting; wondering if there will actually be one published. Also fighting the urge to buy a Christmas wreath for the neighbors & put on their front step since their unbedecked house looks very bare and sad next to our Griswold majestic wonderland. There's two things stopping me: 1) Hubby finding out and yelling at me for wasting money on our unappreciative neighbors and 2) being caught putting the wreath on their front step (they keep their blinds closed all day, so the chances of being detected are slim, but I'm still paranoid).
With the great weather this fall, the farmers across the road from our neighborhood were able to get their crops in quite early, leaving the fields crowded with Canada geese gleaning the dropped corn kernels all day. Once goose hunting season started, we were awakened early on Fri-Sun mornings by hunting sounds - gunfire and geese honking as hunters took advantage of the easy access to thousands of birds. Growing up around guns and having many friends who hunt, the only feeling I had about the gunshots I heard was irritation from the fact that I was being woken up far earlier than I wanted to be on weekends. This sentiment was shared by my neighbor to the south - he too, did not appreciate the 5am gunfire - and, in past years, went so far as to call the police on the hunters. Legally, they are allowed to hunt on the land across the road since it is privately owned, and birdshot does not travel far enough to threaten any residences, so his call was to complain about his peace being disturbed (he also admitted to me that he was a bit jealous because he wasn't hunting with the hunters which added to his irritation when making the complaint to the police).
My neighbors to the north, however, being from California, decided instead to make a complaint to our city, citing that the hunting was a danger to residents in nearby neighborhoods and going so far as to say that our entire neighborhood was also worried about the dangers of hunting in the fields across the road from our homes. Which is to say that the residents of the neighborhood with whom my neighbor speaks on a regular basis, may or may not have an issue with the hunting. She did not ask me my opinion; if she had, I would have happily told her what I thought. (I'm guessing that's why she never asked me.) Instead, I only learned of her complaint when I was approached by a reporter for our local city newspaper who happened to see my daughter and I outside our house after she had been interviewing next door neighbor about her complaint.
At first I thought the reporter was stopping by to talk to my fantastically talented daughter about the fact that she had just participated in Early National Signing Day and had rocked at the State Championship Swim Meet the prior weekend. My disappointment was short-lived, however, when I learned the actual reason for the reporter's appearance in my neighborhood. (I have to admit that she may have thought I was nuts for the cackling laughter and snorting that I couldn't hold back when she told me her reason for being there.) She asked me if the neighbor had ever talked to me about the hunting, mentioning that my neighbor had claimed knowledge that the entire neighborhood was concerned. She asked me if I would be willing to go on the record how I felt about the goose hunting, and once I stopped snickering, I told her that while I didn't appreciate being woken early in the a.m., it was private land, so it didn't matter what I thought - they were legal to do it. I then asked her: "Did she tell you they moved here from California last year? Did you ask her for her views on the 2nd Amendment? Did you mention to her that a) that land is being developed into a subdivision early next year and hunting will no longer be allowed and b) that she has more chance of getting hit by a stray bullet in downtown (enter big city name of your choice here) than by birdshot in her backyard, especially when it is protected by her 6' privacy fence?" I also told her that I wished that they would allow more hunting - bow, not gun, mind you - within city limits as the night before I had followed two deer who were out for their evening constitutional on a residential street two blocks to the north of my own neighborhood, and that I was tired of the coyotes barking nearby every night and the raccoon that loved to harass my dogs. (By the way, my suburb has a population of 50k+ and while we still have woods and farmlands nearby, we are by no means truly "rural" in nature.)
While I was chatting it up with the reporter, I noticed my neighbor in her car, high-tailing it out of her driveway while giving me the ol' stink-eye. It was about that time that the reporter asked if I thought any of our other neighbors would be willing to share their views on the issue, to which I responded "Yes!" and helpfully pointing out which neighbors were hunters and/or who actually talked to my neighbor on a regular basis. The last I saw of the reporter, she was being welcomed into the house across the street, home of one of the many hunters who has resided here for more than 20 years.
Alas, it was not to be: our light display this year is too big this year for the crappily wired electrical system of my house as it is, and the addition of my wonderful Camo-Clad Snowman would require that we not only not run the microwave after dark, but also be relegated back to using candles for light (and while that seems like fun for a while, the thought of the 16, 8 and 6 year old children playing "Pioneers" while wandering around with lit candles scares the crap out of me) if we wanted to keep from blowing circuit breakers every 30 seconds. So unfortunately, I had to take the Snowman back to Fleet Farm. (I promise though, next year, I will give up the candy-canes and even the sleigh and reindeer if I can have Mr. Snowman Hunter in my yard.)
~~ Still waiting to see an actual article printed about the goose hunting; wondering if there will actually be one published. Also fighting the urge to buy a Christmas wreath for the neighbors & put on their front step since their unbedecked house looks very bare and sad next to our Griswold majestic wonderland. There's two things stopping me: 1) Hubby finding out and yelling at me for wasting money on our unappreciative neighbors and 2) being caught putting the wreath on their front step (they keep their blinds closed all day, so the chances of being detected are slim, but I'm still paranoid).
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