I’m sure you are wondering how I am doing in the sunshine state. Great! Just great! I mean, if great includes sobbing in the bathroom while your movers unload the truck.
But that still seems better than that mayor who is banned from the San Diego Hooters because according to the chain, “women should be treated with respect.”
So we have established that I’m doing better than some California mayor who sexually harasses women and now can’t get a cold beer and some wings at a place that objectifies women. Way to go Filner!
But I’m pretty exhausted. As tired as Harlowe who actually fell asleep on Rick’s shoulders…
And I’m overwhelmed. And I really just want to go home to my house. You know, the one in NY. And to make things worse, none of the movers looked like Ryan Gosling. I could have sworn the moving company promised that.
The new house doesn’t feel like my house. There is crap everywhere. And a million things that need to be done. And then Chase got an ear infection and a rash. Then the car broke down and we needed two new tires for the low cost of hundreds of dollars.
And the guys at the garage didn’t look like Ryan Gosling either. What is it with Florida?
But our new neighbors seem nice. One of them brought over some kind of chicken cheese breaded thing which was delicious and then Rick and I had the following conversation.
“We just ate food from some stranger. Do you think she poisoned us?” I asked.
“No,” Rick said.
“Well, it really would be the perfect way to poison someone. A sort of welcome wagon of death. Is your stomach hurting?”
“I think my stomach is hurting. Well, if I do die, it really was a delicious last meal.”
After every annoying, why-do-people-move task, I just shout out, “That was easy!” I got this idea from Rick’s agent and it has a way of making me feel better.
Oh and this has been making me feel better too.
That tree is in front of our new house.
mama bird notes:
Do you remember when those very funny Improv actors performed stories about food and kids from my life?
Well, it’s not too late for you to share your funny stories about trying to feed your children. And you could win $20,000 towards college. Or you could waste it all on Pop Rocks! (No, seriously, it goes to college). You only have until August 31st to enter. So go. What are you waiting for?! Just click here for more details on how to enter. You can even admit the time you fed your kids pizza for 6 days straight.
This mama bird note is sponsored by Happy Family but the ideas are all my own!
At this point, I think we all can agree that frozen yogurt is completely out of control. They are constantly coming up with new flavors. I’m pretty sure I just saw two new ones… Day Old Coffee and Smoked Turkey. You can also get them in a swirl.
And the cost is insane. No matter how little you try to put in that self serve cup, it some how always comes out to $9.
Of course their secret is making the cups gigantic. I recently went to a frozen yogurt place in Ft. Lauderdale and they only offered one size cup. So you tell me… What’s bigger – my baby’s head or the cup?
Note: Cash has a normal size baby head.
We are in Florida. Where is seems to be roughly 4,ooo degrees but then again I don’t carry around a thermometer. I have been telling Rick for about a decade that I want to move to a warmer climate so I can’t even mention that it’s too hot. It’s totally too hot.
I’ll tell you one thing Rick and I just learned. That if he thinks I’m putting the sunscreen on our kids and I think he’s putting the sunscreen on our kids that does not magically mean they are wearing sunscreen. The opposite in fact.
Our vintage Jeep almost exploded before we left. It was rattling and smoking and flashing something that said “Check Gears” or “Check Gauge.” I can’t remember exactly. So that should strengthen our position when we are negotiating the sale price. At this point, we will take a couple hundred bucks as long as the buyer promises to keep the mammoth size Phillies sticker on the back as a tribute to us.
My dad took down our rope swing before we left New York. Because he’s a safety conscious guy, he got a couple kids from the neighborhood to hold the ladder.
Yeah, that looks totally safe.
Our flight down to Florida was pretty easy. But once we arrived, we were missing a duffle bag and a car seat. Plus, we took someone else’s suitcase by mistake. We all must stop buying black suitcases. Yes, I know you can tie a ribbon or something to your bag but I only think of this idea when I’m accidentally stealing other people’s luggage.
We are staying in Boca while we wait for our furniture to arrive. My dad is with us and Rick has assured my father that he will do very well with the single ladies down here because he can drive at night. And apparently that’s what they are all looking for – a guy with good night vision. He won’t even have to mention his mobile closet.
Meanwhile, I have been obsessing over which white to pick for some of the rooms in our new house. A person can go insane looking at white paint samples. Simply White? Decorator’s White? Pure White?! If Loving You Is Wrong, I Don’t Want To Be White. Wait, that last one might be a nail polish color.
At this point, Benjamin Moore should just name one of its whites: Pick This White Before You Go Bat Shit Crazy and we can all just choose it.
And Dylan is still sad we moved and desperately missing her best friend. Wait until she finds out her school bus comes at 7:08 AM. But I’m not mentioning that yet.
As we get older, it really can be harder to meet new friends. You know, people you actually like. And for some reason, we were lucky enough to find a whole bunch of them when we moved to this town.
As first I barely knew anyone. I finally met a girl at a cook-out who was very funny and nice but Rick and I were in a heated argument over peach pie at the time and well, I came off as some kind of rude city girl who had a real anger for baked goods.
But somehow, we thankfully still became friends. And it all snowballed from there.
Our friends here are ridiculous in their kindness and generosity. And with the exception of the time they made me go see Super Diamond, they have never steered me wrong.
Because they know Rick (a TV journalist) is also training for the cornhole Olympics, they gave him this as a goodbye present…
That’s a cornhole set. And pretty much the most perfect gift ever. If you’ve never seen the movie Anchorman (talking to you mom), you have no idea why this is funny. But I promise you, it is.
Of course, knowing so many wonderful people only makes it harder to leave.
But during these times, I must turn to a great literary work for support and guidance – my senior yearbook. My senior yearbook quote is as follows…
“Risks must be taken because the greatest hazard in life is to risk nothing. Only a person who takes risks is free.”
And away we go.
P.S. There is actually a Facebook page petitioning to make cornhole an Olympic sport. With 230 likes, it’s just a matter of time!
I’ve been rubbing 2 1/2 month old Cash’s soft fuzzy head for good luck with our move. It’s very soft. The moving company has arrived to start packing our things. I will not rub their heads. Every time I turn around, they are packing up something I need. I am keeping a very close eye on the baby when they are in the room.
I can’t wait to breastfeed in front of the movers. If my boobs don’t get me a discount now, they never will. This really is their moment to shine.
By the way, if you’ve ever wanted to fight with your spouse more, you should totally move. It gives you the opportunity to discuss loudly and intensely the best ways to sort through and pack things.
The fact that we have no basement or attic in our new home means we have had to make some tough decisions about what stays and what goes. My junior prom dress and my jean jacket from 1983 with the Preppy & Proud pin made the cut. Listen, just because I haven’t worn something for 30 years doesn’t mean I won’t.
I got a little teary eyed in Stop & Shop yesterday. First of all, I love their natural section. Second, I was talking to this old guy behind me in the deli line. He was so sweet and I thought, “I’m never going to see this guy again. How sad.”
OMG. I don’t even know him. He’s 78 and buying turkey. Get it together Kelcey!!
Speaking of goodbyes, I think we sold our Jeep. It’s from 1998. 156,000 miles. No AC. Needs new tires. Obviously, it sells itself. I’ve been in a relationship with my Jeep longer than Rick. In fact, I think the Jeep was one of the reasons Rick started dating me. Later on, he began to notice my dynamic personality. But I hooked him with the car.
In the midst of all the chaos, I went to the OBGYN today. Because moving isn’t fun enough, it’s great to squeeze in a pap smear. As my male, 60 something OBGYN was examining me, I blurted out, “This is the last you’ll see of me! I’m moving to Florida.”
Of course – it came out sounding like it was the last he’d see of my lady parts when I meant ALL of me.
Meanwhile, I can’t get that cups song out of my head…
When I’m gone
You’re gonna miss me when I’m gone
You’re gonna miss me by my hair
You’re gonna miss me everywhere, oh
You’re gonna miss me when I’m gone.