As my status update stated earlier today: My name is Betty and I am a baby toy hoarder. No joke. I cruise all sorts of sights looking for deals on more toys for Elly. When I get her something new, I get excited as if it's for me!
For her at this age, I don't mind buying lots of her toys second hand. Since babies don't have too much of a tendency to destroy their own toys, they're all in good shape and just need new batteries. So for the best deals, I cruise a ton of different sales pages.
The best are the military base sales pages. There are a TON of moms on these pages and they all have kids. Tons of women with tons of kids = TONS OF TOYS!
I get so excited when I see new toys posted on these pages. But it's one of the fastest moving pages I've ever seen. If you want something, you'd better hurry up and call dibs as fast as you can, or you will be left in the dust by someone else.
It's like the ultimate instant rush when you're the first person to claim an item because you've beat out 500+ other women. And it feels like half of them are all out vying for the same things you are.
It's the virtual equivalent to black Friday shopping for the one 'it' toy of the season. You scout out all the locations, check all the ads, and plan your attack. You get in line hours before everything opens and end up running as fast as you can through the aisles to get to the toy section because if you don’t get little Elly that activity table you’ve been wanting to get her, your world might come to an end. So you end up elbowing the other women at the shelves until you rip someone's hair out as you grab the toy out of their hands and run to the register to check out as fast as you can.
Yup, this sales page is kind of like that. But it’s all online, so it’s not as dangerous. There’s no actual elbowing (but there is name calling… it’s usually only heard by my computer screen.) No one's hair is within my grasp. (Probably best since I tend to get overly excited when I want something. Funny how my daughter does the same thing now.)
But now is the BEST time to start cruising the page for toys. Because all these women are cleaning out their kids' toy boxes and making room (and extra cash) for the upcoming Christmas toy season.
It's like hitting the toy box motherload! And what's better is I don't feel terribly guilty for buying so many things. Because like I said, they're used, but in great shape.
Like today for example... I scored an activity table for Elly. Usually those things run around $35+ brand new. I got mine for $8. All I had to do was dust it off with a few clorox wipes. And badabing badaboom, we’ve got ourselves 30 minutes of colors/alphabet fun time!
Tomorrow I'm picking up a basket full of toys that if they were brand new (all Leap Frog stuff) would cost somewhere near $200. I'll be buying them for $20. And since I buy batteries and clorox wipes in bulk, they'll be practically brand new in no time.
So why shouldn't I hoard? What's the point of stopping when I can make room for them all (albeit in random locations and my socks are slowly losing ground in the closet) and they're dirt cheap? Why shouldn't I give my kid everything, but at a fraction of the cost?
Probably because I'm supposed to be shopping for business clothes for me instead. I need to learn to be a clothing hoarder for myself again and probably stop buying stuff for her soon.... but then what kind of mother would I be?
Friday, October 28, 2011
Thursday, October 27, 2011
New Goal, New Desire
This Sunday, Abby is running in the Marine Corps Marathon. This will be her first and she's super nervous. I am excited for her. She's excited about the dunkin' donuts at mile marker 24. We're both fat asses. The difference is she's more willing to run to ensure it's not so obvious... unlike me.
She mentioned tonight that she would be devastated if they ran out of donuts by the time she got to mile 24. She even threatened to quit right then and there.
My part in this marathon is to motivate her. So what did I promise? To make sure that there would be a batch of no-bake cookies at the finish line waiting for her.
So while her goal is to finish the marathon, my goal is to not finish off an entire batch of cookies before she gets there.
Now, there's no way (not even on a full out hungry day) I could finish off that many cookies. However, that's not to say I couldn't find a way to barter with the other people sitting around waiting for their fitness-minded loved ones to finish the run. I'm thinking 2 cookies could easily get me 30 minutes in a comfy chair. And then I figured out what my real new goal is!
To bring you all a blog of what it's like to be at the end of the marathon waiting... Is it like a big swap meet? Will I really be swapping my cookies for other people's services? Or will we be swapping battle stories of race spectating past? Who knows?
What I do know is that I have no desire to run 26.2 miles. But I will be cheering on my crazy friend who does have the desire!
She mentioned tonight that she would be devastated if they ran out of donuts by the time she got to mile 24. She even threatened to quit right then and there.
My part in this marathon is to motivate her. So what did I promise? To make sure that there would be a batch of no-bake cookies at the finish line waiting for her.
So while her goal is to finish the marathon, my goal is to not finish off an entire batch of cookies before she gets there.
Now, there's no way (not even on a full out hungry day) I could finish off that many cookies. However, that's not to say I couldn't find a way to barter with the other people sitting around waiting for their fitness-minded loved ones to finish the run. I'm thinking 2 cookies could easily get me 30 minutes in a comfy chair. And then I figured out what my real new goal is!
To bring you all a blog of what it's like to be at the end of the marathon waiting... Is it like a big swap meet? Will I really be swapping my cookies for other people's services? Or will we be swapping battle stories of race spectating past? Who knows?
What I do know is that I have no desire to run 26.2 miles. But I will be cheering on my crazy friend who does have the desire!
Saturday, October 22, 2011
Nightmares of the Working Mom
I feel like I'm living a nightmare right now. It's weird, because so many things are positively falling into place as I get out of the Navy and transition into the real world. Everything except one: daycare for Elly. Now that we're all moved out of base housing and temporarily settled with Abby, the next hurdle in my life is finding full time daycare.
First of all, watching a marathon of Law and Order: SVU is really not helping my daily panic attacks when it comes to for Elly’s childcare. (Kids getting murdered and neglected all the time. Who the hell let me have the remote?)
And it obviously can't be just any daycare. I have a laundry list of requirements, but when tasked with typing them all out in an ad on Sittercity. I drew a complete blank. I think I'm actually paralyzed with fear just thinking about leaving her with a stranger.
I'm a psycho new mom. Like I take crazy to a new level when it comes to Elly. So I constantly picture wherever I drop her off, the lady will smile and wave, and then as soon as I'm down the street, Elly's left to crawl through glass and cigarette butts, eat the dog food, play with everything dangerous, left in her own filth and the lady that said she spoke English can't actually read any of the instructions I left. I show up and my daughter is completely traumatized and I collapse in a heap of working-mom guilt.
Just typing this is making me cry.
Because there isn't going to be anyone in this world that can do what I do. Not even my own mom, but she's the next best thing! She at least keeps my daughter on a schedule. I on the other hand have let it all go to shit. Ok, so maybe there is at least one person in this world that can do what I do... probably because she's already raised my daughter once when she raised me.
But still....
I keep envisioning child neglect and abuse and just plain old craziness in every daycare. And yet, I'm stuck. We're a two income family. It's what works for us. (Especially in the most expensive place to live in America according to the latest census information. I also live in the #1 wealthiest county in America. The median income is around $89,000. I won't be making that.) So I have no choice but to find daycare.
I'm also a coupon clipper and deal shopper. But this isn't exactly one of those things you become a full-on penny pincher. Because who skimps on their child care? If there's anything in this world that the saying "you get what you paid for" more closely describes, I'd be shocked. Honestly. If you're going to be paying pennies to some secret evil witch, you can't be surprised when you show up at the end of the day to pick up your kid and she's in the oven. But on the other hand, we can't exactly afford an au pair! Geez! We're not one of the Real Housewives of DC couples!
Now, I know I'm making this so much worse in my head than it actually is. I get that.
I know I will eventually find the perfect place for Elly and it will become a second home for her. And maybe that's what scares me just as much (if not more). What if I find a place that's just so perfect, that she likes the babysitter more than me? What happens if she loves her more than me because she spends all day with her and not with me? And now I've come full circle in the working-mom guilt.
This is why I'm living a nightmare right now.
First of all, watching a marathon of Law and Order: SVU is really not helping my daily panic attacks when it comes to for Elly’s childcare. (Kids getting murdered and neglected all the time. Who the hell let me have the remote?)
And it obviously can't be just any daycare. I have a laundry list of requirements, but when tasked with typing them all out in an ad on Sittercity. I drew a complete blank. I think I'm actually paralyzed with fear just thinking about leaving her with a stranger.
I'm a psycho new mom. Like I take crazy to a new level when it comes to Elly. So I constantly picture wherever I drop her off, the lady will smile and wave, and then as soon as I'm down the street, Elly's left to crawl through glass and cigarette butts, eat the dog food, play with everything dangerous, left in her own filth and the lady that said she spoke English can't actually read any of the instructions I left. I show up and my daughter is completely traumatized and I collapse in a heap of working-mom guilt.
Just typing this is making me cry.
Because there isn't going to be anyone in this world that can do what I do. Not even my own mom, but she's the next best thing! She at least keeps my daughter on a schedule. I on the other hand have let it all go to shit. Ok, so maybe there is at least one person in this world that can do what I do... probably because she's already raised my daughter once when she raised me.
But still....
I keep envisioning child neglect and abuse and just plain old craziness in every daycare. And yet, I'm stuck. We're a two income family. It's what works for us. (Especially in the most expensive place to live in America according to the latest census information. I also live in the #1 wealthiest county in America. The median income is around $89,000. I won't be making that.) So I have no choice but to find daycare.
I'm also a coupon clipper and deal shopper. But this isn't exactly one of those things you become a full-on penny pincher. Because who skimps on their child care? If there's anything in this world that the saying "you get what you paid for" more closely describes, I'd be shocked. Honestly. If you're going to be paying pennies to some secret evil witch, you can't be surprised when you show up at the end of the day to pick up your kid and she's in the oven. But on the other hand, we can't exactly afford an au pair! Geez! We're not one of the Real Housewives of DC couples!
Now, I know I'm making this so much worse in my head than it actually is. I get that.
I know I will eventually find the perfect place for Elly and it will become a second home for her. And maybe that's what scares me just as much (if not more). What if I find a place that's just so perfect, that she likes the babysitter more than me? What happens if she loves her more than me because she spends all day with her and not with me? And now I've come full circle in the working-mom guilt.
This is why I'm living a nightmare right now.
Friday, October 21, 2011
Trick or Treat?
I've figured out that my daughter loves my magic tricks. My first act? Letting her play with an empty solo cup. She whacks it around, tries to eat the end, and every once in awhile tries to drink air from it. I like to trick her and pour a small sip of water into the cup when she's not paying attention. That way she gets a special treat when she takes another sip.
It usually ends with me laughing hysterically and her soaking wet and stunned. It's a pretty cool magic trick for a nearly 8 month old kid! And a seriously awesome treat for me!
You know what isn't a cool magic trick for an 8 month old? Putting her binki under a solo cup and then getting another one and trying to mix them up and show her which one it's under. I thought I'd be so cool and "blow her mind." (I actually said those exact words to Stoofy.) Instead, she cared WAY more about the cup than her binki. Cool treat for her, no trick for me.
But my best magic trick of all isn't pulling quarters from her ears. It's actually pulling puffs out of her pants. There is nothing more rewarding as a magician than watching my captive audience's face light up when I pull out her crack from the crevice of her pant folds.
To her, it doesn't matter if it's a fresh puff, or one that's been in her mouth, hand and then pants for awhile. She still loves them and wants to stuff them in her face. She double fists them into her mouth. Every time I watch her grab fistfuls and stuff them in her cute little chipmunk cheeks, I can't help but think she's training a little early for a career in the sport of competitive eating.
So what's a mom to do? Count how many she can gather in her hand and stuff in her mouth at one time! Right now, she's only up to two. Probably best considering she's only got two teeth to try and chomp those things with. Either way it’s a pretty cool trick, and a treat.
At this point, I'm not sure who's doing the tricking and who's doing the treating. I think it's a draw.
It usually ends with me laughing hysterically and her soaking wet and stunned. It's a pretty cool magic trick for a nearly 8 month old kid! And a seriously awesome treat for me!
You know what isn't a cool magic trick for an 8 month old? Putting her binki under a solo cup and then getting another one and trying to mix them up and show her which one it's under. I thought I'd be so cool and "blow her mind." (I actually said those exact words to Stoofy.) Instead, she cared WAY more about the cup than her binki. Cool treat for her, no trick for me.
But my best magic trick of all isn't pulling quarters from her ears. It's actually pulling puffs out of her pants. There is nothing more rewarding as a magician than watching my captive audience's face light up when I pull out her crack from the crevice of her pant folds.
To her, it doesn't matter if it's a fresh puff, or one that's been in her mouth, hand and then pants for awhile. She still loves them and wants to stuff them in her face. She double fists them into her mouth. Every time I watch her grab fistfuls and stuff them in her cute little chipmunk cheeks, I can't help but think she's training a little early for a career in the sport of competitive eating.
So what's a mom to do? Count how many she can gather in her hand and stuff in her mouth at one time! Right now, she's only up to two. Probably best considering she's only got two teeth to try and chomp those things with. Either way it’s a pretty cool trick, and a treat.
At this point, I'm not sure who's doing the tricking and who's doing the treating. I think it's a draw.
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Can I Have Your Attention Please?!
Since I began writing this blog I have been shamelessly trying to get people to read it. I'm actually a little impressed by my desperation to have people read it. You'd think I'd be embarrassed by my craziness, but no. I'm not. Not even a little bit.
You see, I lost all my dignity during child birth. I don't have a shred left. So to think I'd have a little when it comes to virtually spilling out my life on the internet for literally the whole world to see, I don't mind one bit! (Unless you're one of my grandparents. Then it's not really shame, but honestly Grandma, you're not old enough to read this shit. Thank God you still don't get the concept of IMing yet, let alone a blog!)
Finding ways to get people to read my blog is actually less awful than child birth. Ya, ya... child birth is such a wonderfully, beautiful thing. You're bringing another human being into the world. And yes, it is a miracle and yes I LOVE MY DAUGHTER. However, giving birth at a teaching, military hospital is no joy. Every doctor in that building comes in to stick his head up your gown to check your coo-ka. And after that, every nurse in the hospital is in your room because they heard it's comedy hour. (Stoofy and I did tell jokes and I really did half laugh Elly out... just ask Abby!) It's like a parade of the vagina. My vagina. How the hell are you supposed to have dignity after that fiasco?
Whereas blogging is less intrusive...physically. Not all of you know me personally. And the more and more of you that tell your friends about me the more and more distant I become to you. So why shouldn't I go all out in my quest for virtual popularity? This is like my virtual quest for Homecoming Queen DOMINATION!
I had a friend create a special image just for me as my logo. (And a big shoutout to Team Solo for the awesome image!)
I have become a fan of various websites, blogs and facebook pages, all in hopes they will return the favor.
I have had a contest to get more followers and the person to refer the most friends won a batch of cookies. (By the way, I went from 26 followers to nearly 90 between followers and fb fans!).
I have made business cards and left them at Starbucks.
I have advertised on Craigslist. (Which by the way was fruitful because I gained another reader and got a fun email from him!)
I have added fun key words to my blog like BOOBS. And thank God I did! Otherwise the 14 year old boy who just googled "Boobs rock the world" wouldn't have stumbled across Betty! (No shit, someone actually googled "Boobs rock the world" and got my blog. I really hope I rocked his world with my words! And I really hope he was a he and was 14 and not some creepy 45 year old perve.)
I have entered contests with freefringes.com. Freefringes is all about helping get the love to the little guy like me in the blogging world. And I've just entered another contest! So when I post the link, I really hope you all vote for me. Because I will be shamelessly begging for your love and attention and more importantly, your votes!
Because honestly, all I want is a little attention please!
You see, I lost all my dignity during child birth. I don't have a shred left. So to think I'd have a little when it comes to virtually spilling out my life on the internet for literally the whole world to see, I don't mind one bit! (Unless you're one of my grandparents. Then it's not really shame, but honestly Grandma, you're not old enough to read this shit. Thank God you still don't get the concept of IMing yet, let alone a blog!)
Finding ways to get people to read my blog is actually less awful than child birth. Ya, ya... child birth is such a wonderfully, beautiful thing. You're bringing another human being into the world. And yes, it is a miracle and yes I LOVE MY DAUGHTER. However, giving birth at a teaching, military hospital is no joy. Every doctor in that building comes in to stick his head up your gown to check your coo-ka. And after that, every nurse in the hospital is in your room because they heard it's comedy hour. (Stoofy and I did tell jokes and I really did half laugh Elly out... just ask Abby!) It's like a parade of the vagina. My vagina. How the hell are you supposed to have dignity after that fiasco?
Whereas blogging is less intrusive...physically. Not all of you know me personally. And the more and more of you that tell your friends about me the more and more distant I become to you. So why shouldn't I go all out in my quest for virtual popularity? This is like my virtual quest for Homecoming Queen DOMINATION!
I had a friend create a special image just for me as my logo. (And a big shoutout to Team Solo for the awesome image!)
I have become a fan of various websites, blogs and facebook pages, all in hopes they will return the favor.
I have had a contest to get more followers and the person to refer the most friends won a batch of cookies. (By the way, I went from 26 followers to nearly 90 between followers and fb fans!).
I have made business cards and left them at Starbucks.
I have advertised on Craigslist. (Which by the way was fruitful because I gained another reader and got a fun email from him!)
I have added fun key words to my blog like BOOBS. And thank God I did! Otherwise the 14 year old boy who just googled "Boobs rock the world" wouldn't have stumbled across Betty! (No shit, someone actually googled "Boobs rock the world" and got my blog. I really hope I rocked his world with my words! And I really hope he was a he and was 14 and not some creepy 45 year old perve.)
I have entered contests with freefringes.com. Freefringes is all about helping get the love to the little guy like me in the blogging world. And I've just entered another contest! So when I post the link, I really hope you all vote for me. Because I will be shamelessly begging for your love and attention and more importantly, your votes!
Because honestly, all I want is a little attention please!
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Locked Out Update
So, let's go back in time to the last week of my life. I've been frantically moving out of my base housing and in with Abby. Yup, Stoofy now has sister wives! YAY! (Except no hanky panky for him with Abby!)
So anyway, we moved into Abby's. YAY! And we got all settled. Sunday night was our last night at the old house and I went back late into the evening to finish all the final inspection cleaning.
Earlier in the day Abby and I had discussed how we needed a Harry Potter/ Mrs. Weasly clock. If you're not an HP fan, it's a clock that doesn't tell time, but rather where all the members of the family are. We need one because everyone has a funky schedule and we don't want to lock anyone out in the evenings.
HAHAHA! Funny because that same night, that's what happened to me!
I had texted Stoofy at 9:30 saying I was wrapping up and would be home soon from the old house. I got home to Abby's after 10 and everyone had gone to bed. No biggie, except not only was the door knob and deadbolt locked, so was the top secret lock... the one that locks you out!
I took a moment to chuckle, thought long and hard about knocking or ringing the bell, but decided not to. I didn't want to wind up the dogs and get them barking. Because then that would wake the baby. And I was too tired to deal with a crying child.
Instead, I just started texting Stoofy.
10:40PM
I'm locked out. Wake up please!!!
Wake up please!!!
Wake up.
Please get this text message.
I'm locked out.
Come open the door.
I don't want to wake the baby.
By throwing rocks at the window.
Sometimes you sleep through everything.
I hope you wake up soon.
I don't want to wake up everyone by ringing the bell.
I'm locked out.
Please wake up!!!
I'm LOCKED OUT!!!!!!!!
I wish you slept with your ringer on!!!!
Did I mention that my iPhone is awesome and can do everything... except make a call right now?! It's jacked up and hasn't been able to make a call in about 5 days. So even though I tried calling Stoofy, it's only static. And that's all he can hear. And that's the voicemail I left him.
It's also the reason why I don't call Abby. That, and the next day is her first day at her very first, brand new, grown-up job post military! YAY! How exciting! I wouldn't dream of waking her from her beauty rest before such a big day!
Instead, I walk around the house, looking for sticks and small stones and start throwing them at our bedroom window. Hoping to wake my husband. No dice.
10:55 PM
To Abby:
I'm really sorry to wake you when you're about to start your new job tomorrow... However, I'm locked out. Please come rescue me if you get this message.
More rocks at the window. And a little loud talking through the open window. Nothing...
11:05 PM
FB Update:
11:09 PM
To Stoofy:
Wake up!!!!!
I don't want to wake the baby.
I'm really cold and tired. I'd like to sleep in a bed.
By this time I decide it would be a smart idea to try the patio door. However, to do that, I have to wedge myself under the gate to get to the patio. It's too high for me to climb over, so under is my only option.
I'm an above average round woman. Squeezing through this hole wasn't hard, but it wasn't exactly easy either. Check the sliding door. NADA.
So I crawl back under, dig through the trash and grab some long pieces of crown molding that Abby threw out. I then try to reach the window with them to knock on it. I'm too short. So I pull out the patio chair. It's one of those tiny bistro set chairs that looks like it could barely hold me if I was sitting out there with my cup of coffee. I climb up on it without a second thought and start banging away at the siding. NOTHING!!!!
Are you fucking kidding me?
The neighbors are awake and can hear me. I'm thinking I really hope they don't call the cops on me. That would really fucking suck trying to explain this one. Plus, I am working hard at keeping the title of my life "the child who hasn't gone to jail." I'd hate for this to be the reason I go. If I go to jail, I want it to be because I either ran over some liberal asshole, or because I stalked General Odierno a little too much. (He's my military crush... I'm a dork.)
I take some pictures because it’s pretty fucking funny I’m still stuck outside.
11:17PM
Still, no one is waking up. I spend the next 20 minutes writing a blog, facebooking my perils and just having a good laugh.
11:33PM
Blog update: Locked Out
11:35 PM
FB Comment update: I'm waiting for the baby to wake up because she's hungry. And seeing as I'm the only one in the house with a food supply strapped to my chest, someone should eventually notice.... Or tonight could be the night she sleeps through the night. In that case... FML.
11:40PM
To Stoofy:
I'm going to the jeep for a bit. I really hope you wake up.
I'm parked next to the truck. I hate my life today. This sucks more than you can know. I'm laughing pretty hard though.
It's pretty funny overall.
For the LOVE OF GOD WAKE UP!!!!!!!!
And check your phone!
Ok, I tried rocks again. Nothing. I'm back in the jeep. Next to the truck. I'm going to hate life tomorrow.
If you're wondering why it is that I didn't just ring the damn bell or knock on the door.... I had already committed to this line of reasoning. I had already decided that waking the baby up wasn't worth getting inside faster. It was more worth making sure she slept through the night if she could than me sleeping in bed.
I am terrible at reasoning when I'm sleep deprived.
12:11AM
To Stoofy:
I guess you'll eventually realize I'm not there when you wake up in a couple hours for work. Let's hope she sleeps in today.
I'm pretty sure I'm going to want to kill myself at some point today. I need sleep.
Please look at your phone!!!
Now I've got the heated seats running and I'm napping a bit in my car. Still holding out hope that the two people I live with that both say that they're light sleepers and wake up in the middle of the night for everything, finally wake up to the sound of their phones vibrating from my text messages. But not so much.
At 12:37AM Stoofy finally wakes up and sees I'm not there and tries to call me. But alas, he only hears static. Seriously world? What the fuck did I do to deserve this? I text him back:
I'm coming to the door now. Let me in please. The front door.
He let's me in. Baby's crying. My dog is going a little nuts. He says to me, what took you so long at the old house? Seriously? I've been fucking locked out for 2 hours. I've been texting you and calling you all night.
S: I only have 3 texts from you.
B: Uh, try again! You have like 50.
S: Oh, yeah. Sorry. Why didn't you just ring the door bell or knock.
B: Because I didn't want to wake the baby.
S: Too late, she's crying right now.
12:49AM
Abby to me: Hello?
B: Well, I'm in the house. Elly woke up Stoofy and he figured it out! I'm good and I just got in. Have a great day at work!!!
A: We SO need a system! I'm sorry!!!
B: I'm crying I'm laughing so hard!
A: BF just called me. He saw it on your facebook! He tried to save the day!
B: That's so nice of him!
A: Hilarious blog though... at least some good came out of this. No one can say you aren't a dedicated blogger now!
Talk about a great laugh moment! And I've learned my lesson: Just ring the damn bell because the baby is going to wake up anyway. It's better to get it done and over with faster!!!!
http://lovelinks.freefringes.com/2011/10/18/lovelinks-27-open/?utm_source=feedburner
So anyway, we moved into Abby's. YAY! And we got all settled. Sunday night was our last night at the old house and I went back late into the evening to finish all the final inspection cleaning.
Earlier in the day Abby and I had discussed how we needed a Harry Potter/ Mrs. Weasly clock. If you're not an HP fan, it's a clock that doesn't tell time, but rather where all the members of the family are. We need one because everyone has a funky schedule and we don't want to lock anyone out in the evenings.
HAHAHA! Funny because that same night, that's what happened to me!
I had texted Stoofy at 9:30 saying I was wrapping up and would be home soon from the old house. I got home to Abby's after 10 and everyone had gone to bed. No biggie, except not only was the door knob and deadbolt locked, so was the top secret lock... the one that locks you out!
I took a moment to chuckle, thought long and hard about knocking or ringing the bell, but decided not to. I didn't want to wind up the dogs and get them barking. Because then that would wake the baby. And I was too tired to deal with a crying child.
Instead, I just started texting Stoofy.
10:40PM
I'm locked out. Wake up please!!!
Wake up please!!!
Wake up.
Please get this text message.
I'm locked out.
Come open the door.
I don't want to wake the baby.
By throwing rocks at the window.
Sometimes you sleep through everything.
I hope you wake up soon.
I don't want to wake up everyone by ringing the bell.
I'm locked out.
Please wake up!!!
I'm LOCKED OUT!!!!!!!!
I wish you slept with your ringer on!!!!
Did I mention that my iPhone is awesome and can do everything... except make a call right now?! It's jacked up and hasn't been able to make a call in about 5 days. So even though I tried calling Stoofy, it's only static. And that's all he can hear. And that's the voicemail I left him.
It's also the reason why I don't call Abby. That, and the next day is her first day at her very first, brand new, grown-up job post military! YAY! How exciting! I wouldn't dream of waking her from her beauty rest before such a big day!
Instead, I walk around the house, looking for sticks and small stones and start throwing them at our bedroom window. Hoping to wake my husband. No dice.
10:55 PM
To Abby:
I'm really sorry to wake you when you're about to start your new job tomorrow... However, I'm locked out. Please come rescue me if you get this message.
More rocks at the window. And a little loud talking through the open window. Nothing...
11:05 PM
FB Update:
11:09 PM
To Stoofy:
Wake up!!!!!
I don't want to wake the baby.
I'm really cold and tired. I'd like to sleep in a bed.
By this time I decide it would be a smart idea to try the patio door. However, to do that, I have to wedge myself under the gate to get to the patio. It's too high for me to climb over, so under is my only option.
I'm an above average round woman. Squeezing through this hole wasn't hard, but it wasn't exactly easy either. Check the sliding door. NADA.
So I crawl back under, dig through the trash and grab some long pieces of crown molding that Abby threw out. I then try to reach the window with them to knock on it. I'm too short. So I pull out the patio chair. It's one of those tiny bistro set chairs that looks like it could barely hold me if I was sitting out there with my cup of coffee. I climb up on it without a second thought and start banging away at the siding. NOTHING!!!!
Are you fucking kidding me?
The neighbors are awake and can hear me. I'm thinking I really hope they don't call the cops on me. That would really fucking suck trying to explain this one. Plus, I am working hard at keeping the title of my life "the child who hasn't gone to jail." I'd hate for this to be the reason I go. If I go to jail, I want it to be because I either ran over some liberal asshole, or because I stalked General Odierno a little too much. (He's my military crush... I'm a dork.)
I take some pictures because it’s pretty fucking funny I’m still stuck outside.
11:17PM
To Abby:
So... About that last text. I'm still out here. I've crawled under the patio door trying to get in that way. It's Ft. Knox here. I also started throwing rocks at the window trying to wake Stoofy. No luck. Here's hoping you'll see this. If not, I hope you have a HUGE chuckle on your first day at the new job.
11:33PM
Blog update: Locked Out
11:35 PM
FB Comment update: I'm waiting for the baby to wake up because she's hungry. And seeing as I'm the only one in the house with a food supply strapped to my chest, someone should eventually notice.... Or tonight could be the night she sleeps through the night. In that case... FML.
11:40PM
To Stoofy:
I'm going to the jeep for a bit. I really hope you wake up.
I'm parked next to the truck. I hate my life today. This sucks more than you can know. I'm laughing pretty hard though.
It's pretty funny overall.
For the LOVE OF GOD WAKE UP!!!!!!!!
And check your phone!
Ok, I tried rocks again. Nothing. I'm back in the jeep. Next to the truck. I'm going to hate life tomorrow.
If you're wondering why it is that I didn't just ring the damn bell or knock on the door.... I had already committed to this line of reasoning. I had already decided that waking the baby up wasn't worth getting inside faster. It was more worth making sure she slept through the night if she could than me sleeping in bed.
I am terrible at reasoning when I'm sleep deprived.
12:11AM
To Stoofy:
I guess you'll eventually realize I'm not there when you wake up in a couple hours for work. Let's hope she sleeps in today.
I'm pretty sure I'm going to want to kill myself at some point today. I need sleep.
Please look at your phone!!!
Now I've got the heated seats running and I'm napping a bit in my car. Still holding out hope that the two people I live with that both say that they're light sleepers and wake up in the middle of the night for everything, finally wake up to the sound of their phones vibrating from my text messages. But not so much.
At 12:37AM Stoofy finally wakes up and sees I'm not there and tries to call me. But alas, he only hears static. Seriously world? What the fuck did I do to deserve this? I text him back:
I'm coming to the door now. Let me in please. The front door.
He let's me in. Baby's crying. My dog is going a little nuts. He says to me, what took you so long at the old house? Seriously? I've been fucking locked out for 2 hours. I've been texting you and calling you all night.
S: I only have 3 texts from you.
B: Uh, try again! You have like 50.
S: Oh, yeah. Sorry. Why didn't you just ring the door bell or knock.
B: Because I didn't want to wake the baby.
S: Too late, she's crying right now.
12:49AM
Abby to me: Hello?
B: Well, I'm in the house. Elly woke up Stoofy and he figured it out! I'm good and I just got in. Have a great day at work!!!
A: We SO need a system! I'm sorry!!!
B: I'm crying I'm laughing so hard!
A: BF just called me. He saw it on your facebook! He tried to save the day!
B: That's so nice of him!
A: Hilarious blog though... at least some good came out of this. No one can say you aren't a dedicated blogger now!
Talk about a great laugh moment! And I've learned my lesson: Just ring the damn bell because the baby is going to wake up anyway. It's better to get it done and over with faster!!!!
http://lovelinks.freefringes.com/2011/10/18/lovelinks-27-open/?utm_source=feedburner
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Locked Out
Tonight may be the highlight of the last month of my crazy life. I'm sitting outside in 50* weather locked out of the house.
It's actually pretty funny, because just today I was talking with Abby about getting a Mrs. Weasly clock to let let everyone in the house know when everyone is safely tucked in for the night. Because it would be terrible to get locked out.
Guess what? It is pretty sucky!!!! I have sent Stoofy at least 50 text and 15 phone calls. I've texted Abby to wake up. Nothing.
I'm afraid to ring the doorbell because if I do, the dogs will bark, and that will wake up Elly. And then I'd want to walk head first into traffic.
So, let's recap. Rather than wake my sleeping daughter, I would rather squeeze under a locked gate to get to the patio. Find the patio door locked, throw rocks and sticks at my husband's window. Text my husband and BFF in hopes of one of them having their phone near them to see the glow of my message. Realize nothing is working so it's a better use of my time to pull up a patio chair and bang out a blog all instead of waking up the baby.
A mother's love is pretty fucking awesome! And hysterical!!!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
It's actually pretty funny, because just today I was talking with Abby about getting a Mrs. Weasly clock to let let everyone in the house know when everyone is safely tucked in for the night. Because it would be terrible to get locked out.
Guess what? It is pretty sucky!!!! I have sent Stoofy at least 50 text and 15 phone calls. I've texted Abby to wake up. Nothing.
I'm afraid to ring the doorbell because if I do, the dogs will bark, and that will wake up Elly. And then I'd want to walk head first into traffic.
So, let's recap. Rather than wake my sleeping daughter, I would rather squeeze under a locked gate to get to the patio. Find the patio door locked, throw rocks and sticks at my husband's window. Text my husband and BFF in hopes of one of them having their phone near them to see the glow of my message. Realize nothing is working so it's a better use of my time to pull up a patio chair and bang out a blog all instead of waking up the baby.
A mother's love is pretty fucking awesome! And hysterical!!!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone