Keep it moving.

Last night was brutal.

There was about three hours of actual sleep. There was more than four hours of glaring at the stupid clock.

Today I had to stay on my feet at all times or all would be lost. And by all, I mean seven perfectly good hours of daylight.

When I am this tired, naps tend to steal my day.

I did everything this morning. I mean, everything. Floors, laundry, cooking, sorting, organizing...

T came home after a few hours of work and we talked while Baby I ran around giggling. My morning had been filled with visits from her in-laws, who I'm beginning to refer to in my head as my in-laws.

We talked about things we needed around the house and things to be done and somewhere in the conversation we eased up on the work stuff and just chatted. I did learn that she is very happy with the way things are going. She told me she thinks I'd make a good teacher in fifteen years when she would be ready for me to leave her. She made my day.

I mean, I'm pretty sure I won't be here for fifteen years...but it was nice to hear anyway.

By mid-afternoon I was losing the battle with my eyelids. They just kept closing.

T made dinner and I tried to converse with R, but I have no idea what she was saying. I half-heartedly tried to feed the baby and then I just gave up.

I watered the garden to kill some time and while I was out there I was thinking that four years ago when I was this tired it was for a completely different reason. I sometimes can't believe that I made it out of my "college" years alive.

What's more, I can't believe it's been this many years!

It feels like just yesterday I was gallavanting around Atown with my little clique, not at all concerned about how many hours of sleep I got or what I would feel like in the morning.

And here I am, practically an adult, counting precious minutes of sleep every night.

And I have been counting down the hours until bedtime tonight. I was washing dinner dishes as they were being used, determined to crash the second the kids fell asleep.

So OF COURSE the baby wouldn't stop crying and OF COURSE E and T had to go out tonight. OF COURSE.

The trick is to not sit down until you don't have to get back up again. So I held the baby and paced his room until he finally passed out.

And then I ran.

And now I'm sitting. And I guarantee you, in less than an hour, I will be snoring.

Relationshipping.

R started day camp today.

With both kids gone again, I breezed through all the chores I wanted to do today and then some. The house is cleeeeeeeeeeean. And I am haaaaaaaaaaaappy.

Baby I and I read four books and he talked and sang with me. His elocution lessons are going splendidly.

T stopped home this afternoon to tell me to stop working (since it's technically my day off) and relax. She encourages napping on hot days. Unfortunately, I am too afraid to fall asleep and not wake up for three hours, so I used my two-and-a-half hour lunch break to text and watch Bridezillas, the greatest show on earth. I also watched an hour of Supernanny, and the brats on that show really put my life into perspective.

At least I don't have to chase my kids through the neighborhood apologizing to neighbors for them storming into random houses and punching pregnant women in the stomach.

T picked J up from camp and we took the two boys outside to play this afternoon. I spread out my outside blanket and Willie Nelson cozied right up with me to sunbathe.

When we were all good and sweaty I packed up J and took him to the pool.

Spending time one-on-one with the kids has been amazing. T encourages it and has since the first time we talked about how badly the kids were behaving for me.

J is sweet when not under the influence of his sister and he often comes to me to be held or kisses me or tells me he loves me.

At the pool today he sang to me and we swam together and he was downright adorable. The plastic moms seated around the pool kept "awwwwwing" at us. These women are always amazed when we show up, and I'm all glammed up in keeping with the unspoken Bayside pool dress code and then I jump into the pool anyway. They're all so afraid to get their hair wet.

For me, it's not a day at the pool until my hair is matted to my head and I'm all itchy from chlorine exposure.

On the way home we sang until he dozed off mid-verse. Old MacDonald had a...moo moo here...moo moo...here...

And then I called his name and he went, "WHAT?" all annoyed like and then he was gone.

I woke him up by putting him in the tub and he was wide awake when I left for my night off.

I went up the street to my new favorite pizza place and my favorite since two weeks ago coffee shop. I think it's actually a frozen yogurt place but they have coffee and it's magically delicious, and I don't care if that's copyright infringement. IT'S TRUE.

I also bought deoderant, even though I vowed not spend any money on toiletries in this state. I am running desperately low on a few things that I forgot to stock up on before I left PA and since I was supposed to be going away this weekend, but forgot about it and am no longer going, not shopping here was not an option.

I hope you enjoyed that run-on.

I made some phone calls to some siblings and friends. I think I have been in better communication since moving here than I have ever been before.

Being away from my family and living in a completely different social class has really made me value the people in my life.

I mostly miss all my kids, but that's always the case.

And I make it worse by moving and taking on new families and then moving again. I thought my move home was going to be pretty permanent (to Stroudsburg) and it almost was. And then I was sure my last move (to Camp Hill) was really it. I was close to Sister Steph and I liked that area and that was going to be where I set up shop.

And now I'm here...

And I like it.

And I'm learning to put genuine effort into showing the people in my life that I'm interested in them and their lives. And I am interested.

I'm still a little weirded out by the fact that I'm SO disconnected from most of the people I know, BUT I'm meeting new people, I'm falling for new kids and I'm happy to do it.

And while I grow into this new, strangely sophisticated person, I am going to make sure that all my child-like tendencies and unclassy behaviors stick with me.

And speaking of, I'd like to mention here my compulsion to check out every landscaper, gardener and delivery man I see in the neighborhood.

I may have watched too much Desperate Housewives in the past.

Most of the workmen I've seen in the area are considerably older than me, but in my head, I am holding out for at least a few fancy dinners with one really cute gardener or a spiffy water delivery guy.

I mean, I've lived in Long Island for almost a month now. Shouldn't my life be like a TV show?

More insomnia, bad driving and a little princess.

I'm not really sure where today went.

I woke up several times in the night, not at all sure what time it was. When it was time to get up for real it felt like I had only been in bed for a few minutes. This is the worst way to wake up. Ever.

And I grew up with my mom singing and taking my covers.

So, there was this morning, when J had his first day of summer day camp. And breakfast and cleaning and hanging out with R...

We went through her wardrobe and she asked me what size each article of clothing was. If it wasn't a 4 like her, she didn't want it.

T put baby down for a nap. He didn't sleep.

He's ready for a later nap, I think. And he's having trouble staying asleep when we put him into the crib after holding him. This is not my first experience with families that rock their babies to sleep well past the typical American standard, and I like it. I like snuggling a baby to sleep. And I think it is good for the babies. But clearly this stage of unrest is the natural signal that baby is ready to move on.

Unfortunately, T isn't.

R and I baked cookies together and had lunch while T worked on tiring Baby I out.

More time passed and I have no idea how. All I know is that today felt sooooooo long and now suddenly it's over already.

J came from day camp and then I took the baby for a walk.

We got off to a good start by almost being run over by a Beamer with an MD license plate. In my panic at the sight of reverse lights gunning for me, I ran out of the way. In hindsight, I now know that I should have shoved the baby stroller out of the way and taken the hit. Long Island MD!!! The lawsuit would file itself.

Oh well.

I turned down a road that I was pretty sure we had gone down before. I knew it would lead down a steep hill and as I have been torturing myself by going down hills, knowing I would have to come up another one somewhere, I headed down.

At the bottom, I quickly learned that we had no been down that road before. It was a dead end. BUT the dead end was at the top of a hill. So we went all the way up it before we had no where else to go.

On the way home I got ambitious and we zig-zagged through the neighborhood. My energy was derived directly from my ability to text while out of the house.

When I did finally go home R was standing in the doorway crying.

As I had gone out the door, T had gone out to the yard to garden. An hour later, it seemed she was still outside and the two kids inside had no idea.

R had come down from her room where she and J had been playing to tattle on him for something and she couldn't find her mother. I told her T was outside and she ran to do her snitching.

I went to set the baby in the playroom and heard R's plastic dress up shoes clunking down the stairs.

J came to me in the kitchen and said, "I have high heels! I have flip flops!" And on his feet were silver and pink shoes.

"Wow. That's nice."

"They're just like yours!" He told me.

"Well, they're a little different." I was wearing brown flip flops.

"Yeah!" He smiled. "Mine are pink!" He twirled. "I'm a princess!"

I miss my little Sully.

Narcoleptic insomniac.

Insomnia is killing me.

E and T didn't get in until VERY late last night, so I knew I could count on them sleeping in a bit. Naturally, I did too. And then I got up and got breakfast ready and then slept until an hour later when children actually started coming down the stairs.

I napped while putting the baby down for his nap.

And then an hour later a delivery man rang the bell and the dog barked and the usual mayhem that comes with the bell ringing ensued, and to make a long story short, the baby woke up.

T and the kids were still home at that point, so she took care of the door and I took the crying baby.

Shortly after the kids left with T and I fed the baby lunch and tried to coax him into napping while I did on the day bed in the playroom. It didn't work.

While I dozed off every five minutes for about a minute each time, he learned how to completely screw up the TV, climb onto the chairs and jump up and down and open the memory game and throw it all over the floor.

This baby is gifted.

I could not keep my eyes open.

I fed him again; I guess I was hoping that if I could get him to eat enough he would go into a food coma, but it just seemed to give him more energy. I had done my morning cleaning and a few loads of laundry and I really, really, really just wanted to sleep. I had counted on his nap. I was ruined.

The day just kept going despite my problems.

T and the kids got home, kids sleeping. T went back out. I fed the baby dinner. The kids woke up and, honestly I don't know what we did to kill time. They were talking and I was yessing and the baby was showing off the other things he learned today.

Like leaning over the side of his high chair and throwing food directly into the dog's mouth.

And then the dog threw up.

And I just wanted to cry.

I kept myself awake by compuslively cleaning the countertops.

T got home again and I was off the hook for a while. The problem then was that it was after 6 and napping would no longer be to my benefit. I had to do something to keep myself occupied.

I hung out with the kids. T's mom dropped by and talking to her helped.

T spotted a little kitty on the side porch. It's black and white, the exact kind of kitty that I love the most, and it came right up to the door and sat down. She didn't want the kids opening the door because she was afraid it would bite, but it looked pretty tame to me. I fully intend to befriend it.

The older two kids got bored of him and left, but Baby I kept beating on the storm door and talking to him. He batted his little kitty eyes and just watched. And then Baby I showed me yet another new trick. He reached right up and pulled the handle and opened the door. The kitty ran and I woke up a little bit.

Did the 15-month old just open a door?

In answer to my question he started to step outside, paused, looked at me, waved his chubby little hand and said, "bye!"

When E got home the family had dinner together and I snuck off to my room to lay in bed and remind myself how much I love it there. I played internet Jeopardy with my eyes closed. I lost.

I think the only reason I didn't fall asleep was that I could hear the conversation in the kitchen above me and the baby's blood-curdling screeches were enough to keep me alert.

When it sounded like they were done eating, and I could hear T's elephant shoes tramping up the stairs I headed up to hang out with the kids. It was the only way I was going to make it.

I read four books with R and got them both ready for bed.

And of course, my second wind kicked in.

All is lost.

Everyone has gone to their seperate corners of the house for the evening and even though I have been a hair away from hibernation-style sleep all day, now that I can sleep, I am wired.

Tetris, anyone?

Sunday is funday.

I GOT TO GO TO MORNING SERVICE!!!

It's funny how the things that made me want to cry as a kid, like getting up for morning service, make me so happy now. I had to get up at eight after wrestling with insomnia all night, and I didn't even care.

Ok, I cared a little.

But I was so excited. And nervous. Don't forget nervous.

I left the house 40 minutes early to avoid missing my bus. It's a direct effect of growing up in my always-late household. When I first moved to Allentown I was at least an hour early for just about everything. It wears off with time.

But until I get used to taking buses and trains, I will be spending large amounts of time standing at stations and wondering why I felt the need to leave the house in such a hurry.

I waited on the wrong side of the station until I thought, I better ask someone. I did and then ran over to the other side. I sat at the first bus stop I saw. The woman seated at the other end of the bench looked me over, hugged her bags and then laid down. She muttered something and then eyed me again.

I pretended to be deaf.

She sat up, looked me up and down with disgust. Stood up. Glared some more. Wrapped her arms tighter around her canvas parcel. Walked down the street.

A kindly looking woman came and sat on my other side.

Lady Number One came back and asked me for a dollar. I was able to answer honestly when I said I had no cash. My wallet was safe at home. I had a metro card and a bag full of wardrobe changes. Which strangely enough, she didn't appear to need.

I saw her on my bus later. She had at least $2.50.

I waited nervously for a while before gathering the courage to ask the driver to tell me when we were at my stop. Fortunately, he was nice and he obliged. I've heard some drivers will just grunt at you and not help at all.

I met a girl in the lobby of the church who directed me to the bathroom to finish putting my face on. And then I talked with her through the rest of Sunday School, which my bus arrives halfway through.

I was so happy to hear a sermon, to hear people talking about Christ. I think that's the hardest part of living with this family. Not that taking the Lord's name in vain is ever ok, but I am so used to at least hearing it that way. Here, nothing. Not one reference to Jesus. Ever.

I'm pacing myself so as to not get fired but one of these days the parents are going to come home to find their children singing Jesus Loves Me...

KIDDING.

I mean, I'll teach the parents first.

I chatted a bit after the service, met a few people and got an escort to the bus stop outside the church. I made the trek home, which honestly doesn't even feel like the two miles it is.

For some reason I asked the kids if they wanted to go to the park. And then for some reason I took them.

We had a good time. I love the looks the parents give me when they see me pop out of the tunnel slide or chasing my kids (or their kids) around the playground. How did rich people get so boring? These people have the means to pay everyone else to do their work. They should be able to play with their kids.

Anyway,

We went home after an hour and E and T had to leave for a wedding.

And then, for ANOTHER some reason, I told the kids we would make what I like to call Squishy Balls for dinner.

I take veggies and sautee them and chop them up. Then I take leftover rice, which is the bane of my existence, and the kids get to pull up a chair and mash veggies and rice into balls which I then fry, because what's the point of eating something that's not fried?

R had a blast. She ate and mashed and mashed and ate. She ate an entire ear of corn on the cob in addition to her aspargus-carrot-rice balls.

J ate nothing. He's actually making up for it now with some leftover Challah bread.

R is gloating with her dessert.

Baby I fell asleep in his chair because he had no nap today. I don't know how this family functioned before I was here, because that poor kid's schedule gets wrecked when I'm not here.

I woke him up for a bath and then put him to bed an hour early.

After the big kids got their bath and I vacuumed up the rice explosion in the kitchen the kids proceeded to push me into using my angry voice, not once, not twice but FOUR times. I had to YELL. I had to threaten. I had to take the marker out of R's hand and tell her to go to bed.

She's got the idea that if she tells J to do the naughty things instead of doing them herself that she's safe from trouble. Boy, is she mistaken. Last night she pushed some buttons. Tonight she flipped the master switch and she is lucky she's not my kid, because I would have painted her backside red. As it is, that was the first time I had to REALLY get mean, and I mean really mean, with her and she did cry.

But, still, when I opened my arms to her she came to me and I told her to stop crying. She did and I told her that I can only be nice if she's good. She's been a doll ever since.

Bedtime is soon though, and good thing, because I don't know how long she could keep this up.

Critter wars.

This morning the ants reclaimed the kitchen.

Not in the same swarms, but every time I killed one on the counter a new one appeared. It was frustrating to say the least.

E took the two older kids for a movie. T had an important appointment at the nail salon, and I am not being sarcastic. That is important. And I need one, too. It's been three years.

My one goal for today was to get every floor in this house clean. And I did. They are all vacuumed, swept, dusted, mopped or polished. Every last one of them. Even the basement.

And while I was in the basement I met a silverfish. This is the third one. I got my silverfish smashing flip-flop and smashed it. It ran on my first attempt and I almost lost it. I had to pull out my night stand to get it and I finally killed it just a few inches from the head of my bed.

I didn't have the means or the nerve to clean it up right away. I literally gagged a few times because its legs kept twitching. They always keep twitching.

I went to fold laundry and I kept an eye on it, because the only thing I believe can rise from the dead besides Jesus, is a silverfish.

Now, before I continue let me just backtrack a little bit.

I've been living here for three weeks now. Every morning I wake up with a new bite on one of my arms. Just one. Not very big, not itchy. Just a red, raised bump where something bit me.

The last time this happened every morning after consecutive nights I found the culprit living under my bed. A tiny black spider who suffered at the hose of my vacuum cleaner.

Today, I woke up with yet another bite on my arm, this one below the sleeve line. The biter is getting gutsy.

And then, while the dead silverfish remained smeared on the wall, and I stood no closer than five feet away folding laundry and singing along to the Dixie Chicks, the very spider who is eating me slowly, crawled out from behind my bed, which is purposely three inches away from the wall, and began feeding on the silverfish.

SICK NASTY.

I retrieved my shoe of death and tried to kill the little curse word who is spotting my arms. But I was still so grossed out by the first carcass that I couldn't bring myself to smack it again. The spider was too close to the silverfish and I missed it. Then he ran back behind the bed.

I can expect to wake up with a new bite mark tomorrow.

And the minute I get home from church, that thing is dead.

When the baby woke up from his nap we ate lunch and the two of us headed off to the pool. I held one of his hands while he ran around the one-foot kiddie pool. I showed him a bug and he tried to touch it. It was one of those speckled waterbugs with sticky feet and when he touched it, it latched on.

He spent the next few seconds trying to shake it off while I laughed. Plus I was still on the phone, so I had my priorities.

We got home to T and R lounging around the house. I showered and did some lounging of my own. At dinner time, I opted to take over dinner and leave T to the yard work. Yard work is hard.

The kids ate and we made Rice Krispie treats. I'm not sure what I was thinking, but then I let them eat some too.

While I put the baby to bed the two kids ran around the house like wild things. T left to get more garden supplies.

E got home, and eventually T did too and the whole lot of them went outside to work in the yard and catch fireflies. They nabbed four, and I fixed them a plastic container with air holes.

When the kids were finally in bed, T and E went out for a late dinner.

I came downstairs to relax and blog and was interrupted quickly by R screaming, "Kim! I need you quick! I really need you! I'm serious! HELP! THE FIREFLIES CAN GET OUT! THERE'S REALLY ONE IN MY ROOM!"

I have to tell you, I laughed the whole way up, the whole time I was catching the loose bug and the whole time I was poking smaller holes in a new container.

I showed R that I had fixed the problem but she still didn't want them in her room. Poor guys are hanging out with me in the playroom for a while then. I'd let them go, but the house alarm is set and I don't remember or care what the code is.

Before I go to bed, I need to face the other spider in my life. He lives in my bathroom. He used to live between the garbage can and the wall, but I have to move the can when I clean in there, so I told him if he wanted to stay, he needed to find new lodging.

He set up shop in the crack between the shower and the sink.

I let him live because I found him during the great ant fiasco of 2011 and I needed an ally. I hate my bathroom enough, I don't want it crawling with ants too. I'd prefer this one little spider, and he is pretty little.

I get the feeling though that he wants to bite me, because all spiders do. I am delicious.

The other reason I think that, is that every time I go in there he starts creeping out of his crack and trying to get close to me.

At first I would be tempted to kill him but as our friendship grows, I've begun just blowing at him and the wind startles him back into his hole. Today I told him I've killed his kind before and I'll do it again so he better learn his place and stop trying to bite me all the time.

Sheesh.

I feel like Bella over here. Only prettier and with a personality and a brain.

Think positive.

R's third fourth birthday party was today.

Are you following this? She turned four three days after I got here. We've been celebrating ever since.

Today's party had been scheduled for last weekend, but a power outtage bumped it to this afternoon.

All morning I did the regular stuff and played with the kids. I was in the shower when the doorbell rang for a water delivery and no one else answered it. The water guy had to finish his route and come back. Ahhhh to be so spoiled...oh wait, now I am.

E and T both had to work so we just hung out and did puzzles. "Dr." R gave me a check up and when she made motions with her finger to give me a shot I screamed and she jumped and peed her pants a little and then laughed uncontrollably for a minute.

That was fun.

At two, we ran around the house like maniacs making sure everyone was ready. I had done up R's hair because it is so curly and perfect and she always wears it down. The only way I could convince her to let me put it up was by reminding her that Cinderella wore hers in an updo.

Pump It Up is a place with rooms full of blow up play equipment. Everyone gets inside and loses their shoes and starts jumping and climbing and sliding. There are obstacle courses and in one room was a bouncy climbing wall. The kids spent half their time trying to reach the top of the wall to pin a flag on a star and the other half of their time trying to stand.

It's highly amusing.

The best part about this place is that the kids are quarantined to their party in one room. After a while they are escorted to the next room. And finally they are given their shoes back and released into the dining room to gorge themselves on pizza. R, as the guest of honor, got to sit on a HUGE inflatable throne.

Mom E followed me around for the duration of the party telling me the baby was cold and his pants were too tight. But she also told me she liked me. I guess I am passing the test.

I missed the food because I was feeding the baby, which is sad, because cheap pizza is honestly one of my favorite things. The only thing better than frozen pizza is hospital pizza.

At home, the two older kids slept, T took the baby and I went to fold laundry.

After my nap with my unfolded laundry, T had Shabbat dinner ready.

E was grumpy at dinner and as a result, J ate everything on his plate and then peed on the potty. It was the best night ever. I wish E would be grumpy more often because the kids actually listen. R threw a tantrum at the start of dinner, E took her out of the room, yelled at her and when they returned she went right to her seat and began eating. That almost never happens.

After they all went upstairs to put the kids to bed, I took clean up upon myself. Washing dishes is when I do my best thinking.

And here's what I was thinking.

I need to start reminding myself of the things I like about this family throughout the course of the day. I like them. When people ask me how it's going and I sum things up in my head real quick, it's going really well. I love my job, the kids are growing on me and I can totally see myself here for the next two years, which is my game plan.

And today at the party, T genuinely wanted me to have a good time. It wasn't mandatory that I go, I wasn't technically working. It was her mother-in-law chasing me around telling me to take care of the baby, and honestly, I didn't even have him much. He had enough aunties and cousins there passing him around that I got a nice break.

And I did have a good time.

So, for all the play-by-play annoyances throughout the day and all the grief these children cause me, I do like it here. I like them. And I really like Willie Nelson.

He's finally peeing where I tell him to and he never talks back.

Don't get mad, get glad.

Three weeks today.

R had a birthday party to go to today. That child has more functions in a week than I've had in a year.

I took the two boys for a walk this morning, trying to beat the rain. I promised J we'd scope out the playground and see how wet it was. It was too muddy to get out so we kept walking. He sang to himself for most of it. Something about a toddler singing nonsense in a sweet little voice just melts my heart.

It started to rain on us and Baby I had fallen asleep, but J was still fighting it, so regardless of the dirty looks my neighbors cast me as they drove by, I kept walking around and around the block until he fell asleep.

I was drenched with sweat from purposely running up and down all the hills on Shore Cliff and then I was drenched in water from well, the rain. I didn't do my hair this morning and it had been at least four days since my last shave, so I looked good.

I'm trying to paint a picture here.

This is how I looked when I made my last round before finally going home. The block I circled the most times sits in the center of the neighborhood. It's not a large block, but in the community I grew up in, the same amount of space could hold 15 houses. This block has five.

Five, giant, three story houses with big large columns and multiple decks and ivy and landscaping and limousines dropping off dry cleaning and I was just starting to feel self-conscious about my outfit when I saw a lady on her second floor balcony wearing the exact same thing, right down to the sweat.

Actually, hers was worse because she had on 80s stretch pants and something akin to a fanny pack.

My ego swelled immediately.

At home I put J on the couch on which he often naps and put the baby into his crib. I cooked my lunch and cleaned and sat around for a while not being productive.

I think I was being productive again when the thump from J falling off the couch made me crack up laughing so hard I felt guilty for like ten minutes after that. The poor kid had been startled out of sleep as he landed on his hands and knees on the hardwood floor.

To make him feel better I gave him grape juice and admitted to him that I still fall out of single beds on the occasion that I have to sleep on one that is not against a wall. He giggled and I felt less guilty.

It's funny when people fall!

T and R got home and T vanished into her room for a quick nap.

R and J sat in the play room saying, "don't get made, get glad" ad cracking up at each other. They have been getting along so well lately because during the days, they're not together anymore.

Poor Baby I's hiney has been bright pink for two days and he's also teething, so he's not getting along with anybody.

But.

He is talking for me and only me.

During the quiet alone of the afternoon I had organized the kids' room from top to bottom, so when they were all there we did some puzzles that hadn't seen the light of day, well, ever.

My favorite thing about R is that she is loving all my organization. An obssessive compulsive in the works, she returns things to their places regularly and when I redo a room she comes to ask me what has been placed where and she keeps it that way. I assigned her two drawers in the desk the kids share and at bedtime tonight she had memorized everything in each drawer and taken full advantage of having her own space.

Her things are in immaculate order and J's on the other side of the desk already look like a tornado hit them.

The highlight of my day was learning that the grocery stores in this neighborhood don't carry Nestle chocolate chips. I'll be making the kids some chocolate chip cookies this weekend with some fancy pants $7 chocolate chips and Irish oats in a gold can.

The low point of my day was when T had gone to the grocery store and I was home with all three kids.

Please keep in mind that I am dangerously low on estrogen right now.

The doorbell rang so Willie Nelson started barking like a maniac, which he does every time the doorbell rings, even if it's someone he knows. I accepted a diaper delivery and then closed the door, turned around, walked two steps and the doorbell rang again.

And the dog barked again. And the baby started crying because the dog startled him and I was already annoyed because this is the week that I am annoyed.

I opened the door to Mom E, who had callled earlier in the day and whom I told NOT to come over because T and E were going out tonight and wouldn't be there anyway. I guess she didn't care, because there she was, with a present for J.

She came in, made herself at home and disrupted everything peaceful about the kids' play.

She asked me her usual round of questions about whether or not the kids drank water and ate fruit that day. I told her yes, they had fruit, not mentioning the fact that Baby I has explosive diarrhea and the diaper rash of the century and we're keeping him off the fruit for a bit.

It didn't matter.

I could have told her I had just fed each child an entire bushel of apples and she still would have cut up fruit and forced it down their throats.

She fed the baby fruit, lingered through dinner (T was there until she had to go pick up E from the train), and then argued with me about whether or not I should give the baby a bath.

She claimed that if a baby's belly gets cold after dinner he will have pain.

I claimed that it was half an hour until his bedtime, there's a heater in the bathroom and give me that baby and stop ruining my schedule.

She gave me the baby.

And in reality, I sugar-coated everything and said it with a smile on my face that nearly killed me.

But I got the baby up into his bath, and to my joy, R wanted to get away from her grandmother and get in the tub as well.

E and T got home a bit later and my eye stopped twitching.

That woman should not be allowed in this house when I am pms-ing. I should have written that into my contract.

Snobby Wednesday the Second: My big, black brother.

He's actually brown.

But that's what I called him growing up.

I slept in today until a delightful nine o'clock. I had no idea what to wear because I honestly don't know which pile of my clothes is clean and which is dirty. I'm all mixed up. I usually have a spot on the floor dedicated to each but since I am in the basement and there are critters down there, I try not to keep anything on the floor.

Which means my piles are constantly moving and I don't know what they are anymore.

In any case, I found something I am pretty sure was clean because the white pants were still white, and I got ready.

Humphrey and Noelia picked me up and we were off.

This is a brother I don't get to see much but I guess now that will be all of them. I've lived with the other three all in the last few years but now they're all married off.

Hanging out with Humphrey's family today was the first time that I felt like I can be at home here in New York.

I will never call it home, but I now I know I can make myself at home.

I hope that makes sense.

We drove to his area and he narrated a little bit of what we were passing. Humphrey has no trouble talking, which means the chatter gene comes from that side of the family, because we all know I'm not short-winded.

We had lunch at a Spanish restaurant and the only time we were quiet was while we were eating.

After lunch we dropped the boys off and went to the Bayard Cutting Arboretum for the snobby portion of our day.

There's a GIANT mansion house and the property is HUGE. It sits on a river and the land and wildlife are all preserved and protected. There are footpaths so we could walk through the woods and along the water. It was gorgeous. We met a mean looking goose and some nice looking ducks. We also saw the largest, most interesting tree I have ever seen, with branches so big and billowing that a walkway had been built underneath them around the trunk of the tree.

Yes, I took pictures. They'll make it to Facebook soon.

We beat the rain back to their house and spent the afternoon hanging out.

Humphrey told me stories about his time in Afghanistan and I showed them my photos and website. My nephew is an aspiring photographer so I got to see some of his work and mess with his camera a little bit.

I can't tell you how nice it was to just hang out with family. And I also can't tell you how thankful I am for a family that doesn't miss a beat.

Now that my siblings and I are all adults and we've all gone our owns ways to pursue whatever it is we're pursuing, I am never happier than when I get to visit with one of them. We have no trouble at all falling back into our gabbing patterns.

With each of my moves over the years I have gone away from one part of my family and closer to another. I guess I'm kind of the family nomad, but it's given me a chance to live with several of my siblings in several different places. I have become close to each sibling one at a time.

I'm so deep.

The afternoon slipped away and late in the evening Humphrey and Noelia drove me back to the house.

The timing couldn't have been more perfect.

Both boys were in bed and R was drowsy, on her way to bed. She had the nerve to ask me if I brought her a present and then when I said no, she asked six or seven more times until T told her she was being rude.

T was busy sealing cracks in the kitchen cabinets with a hot glue gun. She's growing on me. We scoped out every hole those blasted ants have come through and she filled them all in.

Hopefully, tomorrow the ants will be dead, and the relaxation that today brought me will carry me through the day.

Goals and accomplishments.

I have attempted to start this blog like five times tonight, all in the last ten minutes. Unfortunately, the kids are sitting right next to me and won't be quiet.

As I type they want grapes, water and blueberries.

We just ate dinner.

I guess I'll just keep going backwards, since that seems to be working today.

I made their dinner and introduced them to fried eggplant, the way my mom used to do it in breadcrumbs and Spanish Adobo. The baby ate half of it. I think I ate the other half while cooking it. That's the trouble with fried foods...

T took the two older kids to the museum today so I spent the entire day cleaning things. It never gets old. Is there anything more satisfying than seeing the massive dust bunny on the bottom of the stupid Swiffer and the nice clean, shiny floor?

I'm battling another wave of ants so I disinfected the entire kitchen and the playroom from top to bottom. I've broken the kids of eating breakfast in the playroom, but we're still working on dinner. T insists that it's the only way they'll eat.

I'm trying to prove otherwise.

While reorganizing a book shelf in the playroom I came across a LARGE collection of classics that they inherited in the purchase of this estate. There are some early edition Salingers and Kissingers. There's a slew of Jewish books, which I intend to read despite my non-Jewish heritage. There's one entitled "Exodus" which looks especially intriguing.

I also put a good share of their cursed stuffed animal collection up on a shelf and another third into a big red canvas bag to hide underneath everything else in the playroom. I HATE STUFFED ANIMALS.

PLEASE, if you love me at all and I ever bear children, do not buy them stuffed animals. I will have a stuffed animal roast and rue the day you walked into my life if you do.

I cleaned every floor on the second story and changed the baby's poopy diaper three times. What is wrong with his butt?

After the last load, I made him a banana pureed with honey beacuse that is the only way he will eat them and I desperately wanted to do something besides powder his rear end today.

First thing this morning after breakfast and as T was leaving I took Baby out for a walk and worked up a good sweat with a nice view of the bay. I found a street that runs along it for a while, appropriately named Bayview. I even got to make a phone call that lasted nearly ten minutes before my phone dropped the call!

This day has been all over the place but I got a lot done and I feel accomplished. I felt good about everything until the fried eggplant forced its way into my mouth.

Which leads me back to right now.

These kids have definitely grown on me but I just want to offer some unsolicited advice to all the parents out there.

Giving your kids what they want all the time, even when they're whining, especially if they're whining, turns your kids into little mouthy annoying monsters that no one wants to babysit.

So do the world a favor, and learn how to tell your kids no. Just say no. Say it early, say it often.

R is doing better at asking me for things and saying please instead of demanding things. But tonight right before dinner she wanted scrambled egg. When I explained that we were about to eat dinner and she couldn't have one, she ran out of the room crying. T was upstairs getting dressed and immediately contradicted me. R came back triumphant, with permission to have an egg.

As I scrambled it I went to my dark place. But I bounced back quickly when I remembered how much I make to put up with nonsense like that.

It's definitely worth it.

Well, I distracted the kids this long with an Elmo DVD, but I dont' expect it to last much longer. Time to be getting some blueberries and grapes and drinks and meeting other demands and concentrating on pay day.

Black and white and red all over.

The kids don't start day camp until next week, so this morning I was incredibly slow about getting out of bed and even slower about making breakfast. But not as slow as the family. I had napped for 40 minutes in the playroom before they made it down the stairs.

We all took our sweet time doing anything and everything this morning and then while the baby slept, T left with the two older kids for the pool, our new living room. Instead of going to sit on the couch, we go to sit on the poolside chair.

It's awesome.

While I had the house to myself I cleaned everything I could manage. The floors have gone black again. The mortar between the tiles is black and they are thick lines. Turns out, after four days of not being mopped, the entire floor becomes coated in black, chalky dirt. These floors are my nemesis but today, I beat them.

Then the baby woke up. I stuffed his lunch down his throat and we left for the pool.

What? He liked it.

A gentlemen in a polo shirt asked if he could help me as I entered the pool area and T had to vouch for me. I am the whitest person to frequent this pool, besides the lifeguards. But I'm with a family.

I have never felt so snobby.

All the showy neighbors were out again with their showy beachwear. We all sat around looking snooty while the children played and swam. We made the ice cream truck driver wait until we were good and ready and we cast dirty looks at all the teenagers dropping F bombs in the deep end.

After a while of baking in the high class sun, I finally got hot enough to be normal and go play in the pool with the kids. I jumped in and swam around with R, who has become quite attached to me and now shouts, "Kim I love you!" at random times throughout the day. J accepted a piggyback ride around the shallow end and I taught Baby I to say "bouncy" as we bounced in the water.

T ran home for snacks at one point and then while she circled up on a towel with the kiddies I went back to being classy on my chair. I put on my fancy sunglasses and texted while making faces to convey how bored and better than everyone I was.

Around five we realized it was five and we should probably think about dinner. Since my face had turned red an hour before, I thought I should probably get going anyway. The baby was crying about something neither of us could figure out and J had begun throwing a tantrum in a beach chair. As I packed the baby up to go, T tried to calm J and then, of course, R had to go potty right now.

T ran with her and I pretended not to hear my crying boys until finally J fell asleep all over himself. I dumped him into the other side of the double stroller, waited for T and headed home.

My plan was to change them both, start dinner, feed the baby and then attempt to feed J if T wasn't home. Hopefully she would be. We walked the few blocks home, unlocked the door and set off the alarm.

Uh oh.

Now, I do not like being arrested. It only ever happened once, and it was kind of a joke since the cop was a friend and I was with a bunch of other friends and, well, we weren't really being arrested.

I called T, jumping up and down in the driveway in panic, which is probably why I lost my cell phone signal. She didn't answer anyway.

I called E and he answered, but I was still jumping and the call was dropped again.

I prayed HARD and then took a deep breath, found a service spot and HELD STILL. E answered again and I told him my dilemma. While I was on the phone with him the alarm company was trying to reach him to tell him his house was being robbed. He gave me the code and I shut the stupid thing off.

And that is the second time I set off a house alarm.

The other time was at the Ledner house (holla!) and I thought I knew the code. But I didn't. I think I was dog sitting and I know it was winter time because I distinctly remember running back and forth from their screaming house to mine trying to locate a family member who knew the actual code and what I should do.

It all turned out ok.

And today it did too.

I was sweating, but I wasn't going to jail. I carried on with my plan and then T came later with R and everything returned to normal. Thanks goodness.

J never woke up for dinner, which means he should be up sometime around 4 am, but ...

I'm off then, so who cares?

Change of plans.

I told T I would miss evening church to help with R's birthday party scheduled this afternoon. Every part of me felt guilty, since I was also not attending morning service. I couldn't bring myself to go back on my word, so I got up this morning and just felt guilty all day.

I also got up this morning and found out shortly after T found out that the place the party was to be held, called Pump It Up because it's a playground made of blow up equipment, had no power. They had called to cancel the party.

I thought I might make it to church after all.

T began calling any and all other places she could think of to hold a 4 year old's birthday party. So while she did that I fed the kids as normal and went about my morning.

The ants have reclaimed the kitchen. I had successfully driven them out of the dishwasher and off the counter nearest the toaster. Today they reappeared on the counter around the sink, in the sink, above the sink. But not the dishwasher. Thank goodness not the dishwasher.

I might go insane.

A block party was scheduled at the neighborhood pool. Since T was busy on the phone we decided to take the kids. Excitedly, they all got ready. But then T thought we'd all go and so we waited for her.

And waited.

Then it was time for Baby I's nap.

I put him down and we waited some more.

Finally, T had to reschedule the party for Friday and then it was just up to me to work up the nerve to ask if I could get out for evening service. I'm ashamed to admit I never did.

I offered to stay behind with the baby since I deperately wanted some alone time. I needed to give myself a pep talk.

I did, but it didn't take, and like I said, I never asked about church.

I walked the baby down to the pool at two to meet up with E and T and the kids. I helped watch the kids for a while and then retired to a poolside chair to work on my nonexistent tan.

Around four the kids had enough and I was starting to crisp so I walked Baby I back home while the family drove. On my walk I noticed that I am in the land of Mercedes, Lexas and strangely, Honda. For some reason Honda is acceptable here. I saw several Odysseys and even a few Civics.

We had exactly enough time to bathe the kids and change ourselves and then leave for T's mom's house for the Father's day dinner that had mysteriously replaced the birthday party.

On the way we drove down an out-of-the-way street to eye a new house. The entire street was lined with mansions. Big stone and brick mansions covered in arches and balconies and ivy. The new house was the mother of them all. The only other time I've ever seen so many big house in one place was driving through Nashville. Who is living in Great Neck?!

I need to meet some people.

T's sister showed up to dinner with her family but not her nanny, which made me sad. What's the point of having a snobby nanny if you don't take her to all the family functions? T and I took turns eating and watching the kids. T's sister tried to pawn her kids off on me a couple of times. I had to act busy until T stepped in and told her that wasn't my job.

I love her.

We stayed until the kids had eaten four different desserts and T's sister and her husband started fighting.

That man is wicked.

If ever someone had the potential to beat their wife, it's him. He said hello to me and then didn't talk to me again. He talked with E but anything he said to T or his wife was a directive or a complaint. At one point he asked his wife if she understood what he said, the way you would say it to a child.

I have never been happier when she retaliated with, "No, I don't!" He stormed out of the kitchen then. And T muttered from the kitchen sink, "Say something or I will."

The family intended to move on to visiting E's parents. T was gracious enough to suggest that I take the baby home.

I didn't hesitate to say yes.

And when we reached the driveway to load up the car, T's sister's husband, while looking at the ground, said to me VERY quietly, "thanks for helping out" and quickly skittered away.

Oh, so THAT'S who lives in Great Neck...

Paid off day.

Technically, I work on Saturdays, but since T and E are off and often have something going on, I'm pretty much left to fill up my own schedule. E suggested I take advantage of these days and relax so I've taken his words at face value.

The adults and the two older kids left at 9:30 this morning for a bar mitzvah and I hung out with Baby I until he went to bed.

Then I went to bed.

When he woke up we laid around and ate lunch and laid around some more. The most energetic thing I did all day was peekaboo and the most productive thing was laundry, which I haven't been all that efficient about. In seven hours I've done two loads in my two washers and two dryers.

I have more in right now and my family just walked in.

After the bar miztvah the family called ahead and asked me to get the kids' pools things together. E picked up the bag I had packed and Baby I and dropped off three trays of leftover bar mitzvah goodies.

And I'm PMSing.

E had also brought along a female relative named Dani who introduced herself politely enough and then went upstairs with him while he changed. I don't know if she was a cousin or what...but I thought that a little strange. I mean, I've been here less than a month and I've already seen E in his underwear twice, so I guess he's not all that shy, but still, a male inviting a female relative to wait in his room while he changes when there's an entire house and a cute baby downstairs...maybe I'm just old-fashioned.

He left a few minutes later and I promptly ruined my diet.

Then I watered the garden, the second most productive thing I've done all day. And usually when I water the garden it rains a few hours later, so we'll see what tonight looks like now.

Willie Nelson followed me around the entire time it was just the two of us and watched me start some more laundry and together we watched Who Framed Roger Rabbit? and snacked on some more wonderful food.

In spite of all my hang ups about New York, I will say that the desserts here are AMAZING.

And like I said, my family is home now. J came in already sleeping and T is putting the baby down. E seems to be taking care of R, which means my long day or freedom is about to continue.

I think tonight I'll finally track down the E! channel and fold the rest of this laundry.

Shabbat shalom.

I woke up before 7 to the sound of R's brand new, shiny, pink flip-flops clunking down the stairs. I could hear them on the second floor stairs and then coming down my basement stairs. She ran over to my bed to tell me that it was morning time.

I groaned and she went away.

But as she left she told me she was going to turn on all the lights for everyone to know it was morning. That barely registered with me and I went back to sleep.

When I did get up and go up to the kitchen I saw that she had, in fact, turned on EVERY light on the second floor.

We had a slow start to our day. Everyone was home today with no pressing plans, except E, who went into work an hour later than usual. We all ate breakfast and napped and watched TV until nearly 11.

T took J out for a special day with him while R and I made some granola during the baby's nap. We played indoor baseball, and she insisted on catching with her bare hand and throwing with her pink glove.

For dinner, we were all invited to T's Mom's house, who is a wonderfully sweet woman. I met her for all of ten seconds the other day but she gave me no trouble. She called today to make sure we were ALL coming and told me she was looking forward to it.

So after T got home we bathed all the stinky, sweaty kids and headed out.

The house we pulled up to was deceivingly small on the outside. It sat back far from the road, the yard landscaped, but very casually. It was wood toned and looked like a little Pennsylvania home.

We went up through the garage...up and up and up...three flights of stairs later we were in the kitchen. Down a hallway was the largest living room in the world, all formally decorated with those really uptight looking couches arranged in little stiff seating areas all around the room. Every corner had a giant vase or tree or a dramatically ornate decorative piece.

Talk about sensory overload.

There was a conference -- I mean, dining table on one side and in the middle of two seating areas was a piano. Down another hall was a small cozy den where the family actually lived. In the kitchen was a breakfast nook and a TV. That floor also contained the master bedroom and two bathrooms.

I have no idea what was on the other two floors of the house.

Mom T had appetizers waiting, which made her already one of my favorite people. What is the world without appetizers? A huge rainstorm was hindering E, who was stuck in the city while the trains ceased running. But Mom T kept us all fed and kept the kids entertained.

For two hours.

At one point she had taken the two older kids into her big bedroom where the toys were and they were playing house. I was shadowing Baby I and he led me in there. She showed me the toys he could play with and then grabbed a baggy off the vanity and handed it to me, telling me it was for me.

Inside was the fanciest pair of earrings I have ever touched.

Around 8, E finally made it and dinner could actually begin. They served part of the dinner as another round of appetizers and then salad. Then as we sat down they casually did their singing and praying and candle lighting and Torah reading, and surprisingly it wasn't awkward at all. The kids, of course, didn't gather around the table when told and T's mom was still running around bringing food. T was clearing off the table and T's dad was getting chairs. So my standing back and not participating was totally discreet.

We ate and I coerced J into eating. R threw a tantrum over a cup, but I think mainly the tantrum came from eating dinner at bedtime. Baby I had eaten his fill during the appetizers, so he just screamed while we all ate.

After dinner, the kids' grandpa snuck them each four oreos and T's mom ran off with the baby to try to get him to sleep. I helped T clean up the kitchen and pack up the leftovers.

In the car on the way home I suggested to the kids that we play "Who can be the quietest?" Baby I was asleep, so either he won or he wasn't playing. But I lost quickly when J started whispering my name and I couldn't help but answer. When I did, he said, "I want to be quiet" and lost the game. R pretended to be asleep for the rest of the ride. She tied with T.

I'll do what I want!

R had orientation at the camp that is going to entertain her five days a week this summer. T had signed her up for half days but it turns out all her little friends are registered for full days, so from 9 to 5 every weekday this summer, R will be out of the house. J will also have day camp, but his is drastically shorter and doesn't start yet.

So today while T was gone, I had two boys, who both behave MUCH better when they are alone with me. Funny how that happens.

We all made French toast together, the children's first experience eating it, and then T and R headed out and I packed up the boys to take them out to the bayside park I am so happy is there.

We walked up to the pier and, my goodness, I should have taken my camera. There were no less than five million seagulls (or baygulls) lining the hand rail and every plank of wood was literally COVERED in dukie. We walked out to the end of the pier and the birds left in waves as we approached them. We passed two brutally murdered and mangled crabs, outlined in chalk while the crab forensics teams were busy taking pictures of the atrocities that had been committed in what they thought was a nice neighborhood.

We pushed on to the playground then, but J wanted to see the pool first. There are two, a kiddie pool and a real one, both surrounded in those high class blue poolside chairs that are always at the nicest hotels in movies.

There were signs posted that no lifeguard was on duty and that the pool was not yet open for the season, but we hadn't intended to swim anyway. I agreeably pushed the double stroller up the hill so the boys could see the water and as we approached the gate, a voice from down at the office building beside the park yelled, "YOU CAN'T GO IN THERE!" And he called me ma'am.

Rude.

I yelled back that they just wanted a look and that I had no plans to take two toddlers swimming, alone, with no lifeguard on duty. Duh.

But he stood there and waited until we came back down the hill anyway.

We went to the swings and the playground and I think I impressed J with my participation in climbing playground equipment. I've never been the waiting-on-the-bench type. I will bring a book on occasion, if there are a lot of other kids for my kids to play with. But there was no one but us and I'm not about to sit down while my one poor little two year old tries to entertain himself when he's so used to his sister romping around with him.

I showed him how to climb up the tunnel slide and even pushed Baby I through while we yelled, "Daaaaaaaadddddy!"

I had excellent service so I made a few phone calls. Only my sister answered, so I gabbed with her until I lost my signal again a while later.

On the walk home I went the extra long way around the block and both kids passed out, as according to plan.

J woke up first and I fed him lunch successfully with no tears for the first time. He's getting more used to me, and he's definitely learning that unlike Mommy, I'm not screwing around.

Meal time is meal time and I am making one meal and you are eating it. This had actually come up in my conversation with my sister today. Why are all two year olds anorexic? Still, with the right instructions and rituals, meal time has become clearly defined with J in the course of two weeks. I'm hoping T gets on board soon because it will certainly make her life easier.

Now it's nearly 5 and I haven't heard from T all day and I have no idea when to expect her back. I have done all the laundry and cooking and cleaning that I am subject to do in one day, and I'm starting to wonder if she has run away from home or been slaughtered by the Long Island serial killer I just learned about today.

New York is living up to its reputation; a killer and a robbery!

Oh, and T informed me today that the robber who has been striking in the neighborhood was spotted in a red sports car. He's probably broke from trying to afford the gas to run a sports car in New York. I guess he'd rather turn to a life of crime than sell his car.

Snobby Wednesday: The First.

Today marked my first weekly Snobby Wednesday.

And who better to guide me than a real live New Yorker? Kat from Queens was my after-collegge roommate and long time friend. She's a marine stationed in South Carolina, but she just so happens to be home on leave right now.

We started out early so we could make the most of our time. I told T I'd help her put the kids to bed tonight because it turns out Baby I's bathroom mishaps aren't teething related, and now two kids have burning hineys.

Kat picked me up around 8 this morning and we dropped her car off and began our adventure by grabbing a quick breakfast and then catching a bus to Penn Station.

We visited Ground Zero and a few of the surrounding memorials. The construction for the new Trade Center memorial was in action and several tourists were around, getting in our way by looking at things we wanted to look at and always standing so that their rear ends were in my shot. We wandered a bit in our hunt for the FDNY department closest to the Trade Center but we found it and battled some more visitors for the best viewing position.

From there we walked down Wall Street to do some stock exchanging or whatever it is you do with stocks and began hunting for the NYPD Museum.

Sadly, a kindly gentleman saw us studying our little map and we had to accept some help in finding it. I think that hurt Kat's New York pride a little bit, but we did find the museum. We visited the Vietnam Veteran's Memorial on the way and passed the large, glorious revolving doors of a Hilton hotel.

There were flower vases actually built into the revolving doors! Now that's snobby.

I decided then that I would like to reenact that scene from Elf and run through a revolving door a few times before we left the city.

We walked right past the NYPD Museum once before we realized it but then we paid our $8 to look at old guns and motorcycles. I'd say it was $8 well spent.

For lunch we took a train to another part of the city, don't ask me which part, I was just blindly following Kat and her map. We went to a Malaysian restaurant that was FANTASTIC and I rekindled my love for a good glass of sangria.

I also burnt my tongue several times.

We killed some time by taking an express train WAY past our next stop, the Museum of Natural History, otherwise known as the Evolution Defense Center. In spite of their terrible inaccuracies, they have some wonderful displays that I have yet to see all of. Once we caught a train back to the museum, we had time to see exactly one exhibit and one bathroom. Neither of us has ever seen the entire museum, though we've both been to it previously. I don't even know how one could accomplish that feat, but someday I intend to.

As it was, we were tired and our fun time was drawing to an end. We needed to be on a train home soon. I did find a revolving door and I made one complete revolution but it was too heavy to keep going. I don't know how Buddy the Elf made it look so easy!

I'll have to experiment with some more revolving doors on my next Snobby Wednesday.

Right on schedule, we caught all our trains and buses home and ended the day with large frozen coffees.

It wasn't until I got inside my house that I felt the dirt and grime of riding public transportation all day. I had to power wash it off with my super-water-blasting showerhead, the one that sprays water all over the bathroom when you open the shower door to get in.

But I feel better now, and I'm ready to post pictures all over Facebook.

Consider this fair warning.

Holy poop.

Size 6 diapers.

Let me just start by telling you that both boys are wearing size 6 diapers. I have never seen any baby or toddler wearing this giant sized diaper before. And maybe it works for J, who should be potty trained but isn't. But it definitely doesn't work for Baby I, and he's who I clean up after the most.

Baby I has had some teething related bowel issues for the last few days. He's got one runny nostril and he won't eat anything. He's cranky and sleeping too much and the only thing he likes to chew on right now is ice.

For two days I have been calmly dealing with diaper leakage. This morning I did an entire load of laundry, all Baby's, all soiled.

Then this afternoon happened.

Now, I've had to deal with a lot of really gross things over the years. I've been puked on, which actually, when it's a baby, isn't so bad. I've had to clean up the puke of older kids, but it's usually in a puddle on the carpet (always on the carpet) and it's not my favorite thing to do, but it's not such a complicated chore.

But there have been exactly two instances where I had to fight the urge to add to them mess and just clean it up. One was with my Liam. And one was today.

With Liam, it was totally my fault. I mistook some leftovers for his lunch, and while he loved the curried dish and ate it eagerly and quickly, it took only seconds to travel through his system and come running out the other end. And since he was in his high chair, it streaked out of the thigh of his diaper and ran down his leg.

Fortunately for me, at the time his father was in his home office and he insisted on helping with the clean up. So I had someone there to gag along with me. And I only had half the mess, Liam, to clean up.

Today, I wasn't so fortunate.

Although, strangely enough, Baby I was also in his high chair.

T got him up after nap time and got him all settled for lunch before she left with the older two for R's doctor's appointment. We've been keeping his food pretty simple in our efforts to stop his hiney explosions.

For lunch he was to have rice with a side of saltines and water. He snacked on some left over Cheerios from breakfast while I finished putting some things away that I had been organizing.

I heard him grunting and, silly me, I thought that was a good thing. Lately his bowel movements have been effortless and so I thought all the grunting was a sign of a more substantial pooh.

I kept cleaning up.

He grabbed onto his high chair tray and yelled, "Mama!" And then kept pushing and breathing hard. I began to think that maybe we had gone too far with his diet and he was having a particularly hard time. But he stopped yelling and went back to eating his Cheerios.

I finished cleaning up.

I went to the sink, washed my hands, turned to face him and say something before I would start heating his rice.

The first thing I saw was the puddle under his chair. I was distinctly confused, because last I knew it was impossible for dry Cheerios to puddle. Especially in that color. Then the smell hit me.

I tell you, I have gagged a lot, but I have never gagged like that before. For a good minute I was positive I was going to yack. I had to walk out of the room. When the nausea passed I laughed a little, thinking of my Liam.

But then I had to go back into the kitchen and deal with whatever had just happened in I's diaper. It wasn't going to be pretty. Or easy.

It was on his leg, his sock, the floor, the chair, the chair cover. Then he unknowingly touched it and it was on his hand and arm, too. For once, the dog wasn't under the chair scrounging for dropped food, thank goodness, or it would have been on him too.

I took a deep breath, held it and began wiping up the baby with bar towels that would never see the light of another day.

I had to undress Baby I in the bathtub and rinse him and scrub him for five minutes before I felt better about touching him.

Because I had carried him, legs wrapped in a plastic grocery bag, up the stairs and through the house, the entire house now smelled like, well, death.

I left him in the playroom and ran around the house opening windows and disinfecting any room I had carried him through or any item that happened to be the same color as his pooh, just in case.

It was a good twenty minutes before I got the house back in order and by then, T was walking in the door with a sleeping J and a screaming R, who had received three shots at the doctor's office.

R was too busy screaming to enjoy my rehashing of the last hour, but T got a good laugh.

And she swears she couldn't smell anything.

I'm so needed!

This morning all three kids ate all their breakfast without arguing or crying!

It was amazing.

I got all the cleaning done early that I like to do while the kids are gone. Baby I has explosive diarrhea so after mopping up his thighs and putting him down for his nap, I took my lunch hour for two hours in front of the TV.

Over the weekend T and I had talked a lot about food and since she cooks primarily Persian and I cook...everything else, we thought it would be fun to make all these different ethnic foods for each other.

So tonight I introduced the kids to Mexican food and made tacos.

That's right. These kids had never had a taco before.

I made the tortillas with R and then got everything else started. R helped me bake some oatmeal raisin cookies for dessert and all this time Baby I played with T while she worked in her home office and J slept on the couch.

Dinner wasn't as blissful as breakfast, but R ate after some discussion. J ate rice and since anything Baby I eats later runs down his legs, I let him have a tortilla and a banana. Not as Mexican as the rest of us, but I told him to pretend it was a plantain.

I don't think he did.

E had a long day and got home hungry, bearing the news that there's been a break-in in the neighborhood. He ate tacos while I took the kiddies upstairs and wrestled them into the tub.

E and T then had to make an appearance at a funeral so I put the kiddies to bed and quit for the night.

On the whole, it was a very routine and normal day; uneventful and productive.

But the little things that came up, like T asking me to text her the shopping list she forgot, and how many times she thanked me for doing things throughout the day, and how careful she is to not get in the way of something I'm doing, and how E ever so politely asked me if he could eat the dinner I cooked and how they both gushed over my cookies (which did not come out all that great as far as my cookies go) really make me feel needed here.

Sometimes I think things with the last nanny fell apart so suddenly that they are afraid I might just up and leave the way she did.

We still have some kinks to work out but T is being careful with me. She doesn't want to offend me. She doesn't want me to be uncomfortable. She doesn't want to be the stuck up housewife who bosses her nanny around. She wants to be friendly, even if she doesn't think of us as friends.

And her approach is working.

I feel welcome, I have my own space but they've balanced things and included me in their family already. And even though the kids aren't the well-behaved little angels I like to pretend my nieces and nephews are, they are doing their part to make me feel useful here.

Today I've discovered...

It has been quite an informative day.

First and foremost, I learned that just because the kids didn't fall asleep until after ten last night, does not mean that they will sleep in. In fact, in means they might wake even earlier and drive you absolutely insane.

And they probably won't eat breakfast without crying.

But then the rest of the day shaped up.

I downloaded something like 250 hymns for $7.00. And then listened to as many of them as possible before the baby woke up. When he did, we went walking, trying to find the mysterious pool that T won't disclose the location of. It's part of my Long Island traning, learning my way around by walking around the neighborhood looking for the pool.

We'll get back to that.

I finally met Taryn (shout out!) and we had a nice, calm cup of tea and fantastic conversation before evening service at my new church. I can't even tell you how happy I am to have gone to the church and met new people and be part of a group of Christians again, and it's only been a week and a half!!!

And so I found out today, that I am NOT the person I was five years ago. I left my church and my faith then and I'm not sure how I survived without it. I am completely reliant on God, and that is 100% ok with me!

And to add to my history of locking myself out of things, before service, Taryn and I got locked out of the house and her car. This time, I didn't actually have anything to do with the physical locking of the door, but I must say, it's much more worth it to be locked out when you're with a good conversationalist. As sad as it was that we were late to church, I did enjoy gabbing for that extra forty minutes.

Also, don't tell T, but Taryn helped me cheat and I found the pool. And it's right next to the shoreline. YES MOM, THE WATER IS CLOSE!!!

But all good things must come to an end and I came home to three screaming kids, a messy kitchen and drywall in the foyer.

I guess E thought tonight after the dinner party was a perfectly good time to ask his father-in-law to patch a leak in the ceiling between the master bedroom shower and the foyer.

So I begrudgingly helped T calm the kids and get them into bed and then I swept up the foyer and cleaned the kitchen and made myself a really late dinner.

In the process I learned that as much as I like my job here, I still have some serious getting-used to my housemates to do. But thankfully, my new church and new friends are here to help me along.

A new, gross twist on a problem that's getting really old.

I slept in a bit today and when I went upstairs I cleaned up the remnants of our big dinner last night. T and the boys were up, R is still at her grandmother's. The house is blissfully peaceful. I've noticed that when there's three kids in a family if you remove any one child from the picture things change immensely and you can hear yourself think again.

It's quite amazing.

We had planned on going to the pool, but, as according to Murphy's Law, since it is Saturday it is rainy and dreary outside.

Instead I organized a linen closet while the dishwasher was running and that's where things get gross.

When I started putting clean dishes away I noticed a black speck inside one of the glass baby bottles. Hmmmm...

There were specks in three bottles and two glasses, stuck to the bottom of a plate and on one bowl.

Dead ants.

After basically rewashing all of the dishes as I took them out, I spent the afternoon and evening babysitting my two of my three young charges. R had spent the night out and Mom E didn't bring her back until late this afternoon. She was home long enough to drop off her stuff before being picked up to go to a friend's house.

Mom E hung around for over an hour, force feeding the kids fruit even after I told her that I'd given them plenty. She also followed me around the kitchen while I cooked dinner telling me how she does things and why kids need pasta boiled until it's dangerously close to being mush. I nodded and smiled and kept doing what I was doing anyway.

She almost left once and then she saw the baby watching her go and felt guilty and came back. Blast.

When she did finally leave I think she was fairly happy with me. She did tell me I was too young, so that scored her some points with me.

E ant T got home shortly after dinner and they're here now, putting the kids to bed and getting ready to go out. That's right, out. At 9pm. Even though they're tired and E was practically falling asleep in the playroom while talking with J, this is still New York and they are still going out.

I don't know if I have the energy for this state. I know I have lost the will to battle its ants.

TP, dirt and in-laws.

My mind is all over the place tonight.

The morning ran smoothly, for me anyway. T and the kids were running late but I employed Operation Morning Avoidance and stayed in the kitchen even when the clock struck 9 and the kids hadn't even come down for breakfast.

T asked me today to come up there and help if they were running late like that. I guess...

I scrubbed the kitchen floor three times to get the black dirt to go away. Twice for the hardwood. The floors in this house are cursed.

Baby I was good all day and I got a lot of work done in just a few hours. I've outdone myself.

Willie Nelson (the dog) entertained us all by crossing the street to pee on the neighbor's lamp post. So that was fun.

T went shopping and I supplied her list via text message. I've been writing her phone messages on paper plates. I need to get some paper in this house.

Speaking of paper, my biggest problem today has been the fact that I'm in a house full of people who load toilet paper wrong. I am a firm believer in over-the-top rolling. Something about it just feels right. I visited each bathroom today and scrubbed sinks...and loaded all the toilet paper correctly.

T was home early this afternoon and while the kids played I hung out in the kitchen while she cooked and we talked. We've chatted here and there along the way but today was the first time we really gabbed. She asked me about my family a little and we talked about food and cooking. I'm starting to think that all of my first impressions of her were dead wrong.

She has routinely asked my opinion on how to do things or where to put things. Tonight is the Jewish sabbath (and it's called Shabbat -- I'm finally remembering things) and so she was cooking a big family dinner. She was expecially excited because she could use all of the fancy dinnerware that I had organized last week. She thanked me several times and then told everyone at dinner to thank me.

She taught me how to make Persian tea and graciously asked me to give the baby a bath while they did their prayers, not wanting to impose on my religious beliefs.

I think I might really get along with this woman.

Her mother-in-law on the other hand...

Like I said, the first part of the morning was smooth. But right after everyone left the doorbell rang.

Guess who it was?

I don't know her name, but she's E's mother so we'll call her Mom E.

She doesn't speak much English, Farsi is their native tongue. She had just talked to E and knew full well that no one was home. She rang the bell and called T's name and when I opened the door she acted surprised to see me. I knew right away who she was and fortunately, I had been advised to give her simple, positive answers.

She asked if T was home. I said no.

She asked if the kids were home. I said no, except the baby, who was asleep.

She left.

After T cooked dinner it was still early in the afternoon, so she went to run errands. While she was gone I took the kids outside and we laid on the front lawn, still wet from last night's rain, and melted into the grass. The dog peed dangerously close to where we laid and then Baby I's diaper exploded and nearly killed us all.

We got everyone cleaned up and resettled on my big beach blanket on the driveway to tell Monkey Stories, our favorite kind of stories. You say, 'once upon a time there was a monkey' and then without missing a beat the kids yell 'in a tree!' and the story gets worse from there. We were there when Mom E returned.

R rolled her eyes and said to me, "I hate her."

I almost laughed, but then I remembered that I am responsible for these kids and I scolded her and told her to be nice. She wasn't, but at least I had done my duty.

Mom E came right in and took the baby and kissed the kids and gave them presents which they then fought over. She asked me if I'd fed them and I told her I had. She said, "Give them fruit when you come outside. They need fruit. And water."

I almost slapped her.

T got home a few minutes later and talked to her briefly. She asked T why we didn't let the baby just run in the driveway like he wanted to. T answered in the most subtle condescension I have ever heard and told her it was because we didn't want the older kids to run over him with their bikes. He runs in the grass, not the driveway.

But Mom E missed the irritated note in T's voice. She wasn't done.

She told R she could spend the night at her house and then proceeded to tell her to get her things to go. T told her no, we had a family dinner planned. R, surprisingly, wanted to go. I think it had something to do with the promise of more presents.

Mom E then wanted to know if I knew how to feed the baby. T had to go pick up E at the train station. On her way to the car she yelled for me to go ahead and feed him and that R was NOT to leave while she was gone.

Mom E followed me to get the baby's dinner. She asked me twenty questions about my qualifications regarding feeding kids. She asked me to give him bread. He had bread already. She asked me to give him potatoes. He had potatoes already. She told me he needed something else. I told her he needed exactly what T had left him.

But I said it politely. And it hurt.

She didn't linger long after E and T got home and I was warned then that E's sisters were pretty much the same way, except they speak more English.

And then we ate our Jewish dinner and talked and hung out in the fancy dining room for a while with T's dad, who I met the day of my interview and really like. We cleaned up together and got the kids ready for bed together and planned a trip to the pool tomorrow.

I've even started taking T's side in jokey little arguments.

Nanny Milestones.

I arrived here in LonGisland exactly one week ago today.

Today I celebrated by doing five loads of laundry in my laundry room (including my sheets Steph!) and washing the frog tank.

I hate frog tanks. And T didn't even ask me to do it. But it smelled so bad and she never gets around to it, so I had to. The frogs seem much happier now. There's two, and I don't know if they're named or what those names might be but I'm calling them both WB, since I can't tell them apart anyway. I don't understand tank pets. The kids don't even care about them.

After my day off yesterday, I got up on schedule this morning, even though the kids still have no school, and made breakfast. I napped on the daybed in the playroom while the family did whatever it is they do upstairs in the mornings. I have a feeling T would like me to come up and help get the kids ready but I feel like my days are long enough. Unless she outright asks me, I'm not going up there before 9 o'clock.

The kitchen looked like one of our brand new Pennsylvania tornadoes had come up here just to make my life harder. Clearly, on my days off, T has no intention of doing anything. She ran the dishwasher, probably because if we don't run it regularly the ants get in there and tongue wash the dishes. But every other dish she or anyone else had used yesterday was waiting for me.

And when I did go upstairs after breakfast to get laundry, the kids' rooms were both whirlwinds of mess. Someone had taken all the clothes out of one cabinet and ripped open a new package of diapers, spilling them all over the floor.

Rich people are so spoiled.

But, we've fallen into a nice routine. I know how to run a house and T has given me the freedom to do so. If she's not going to be as strict with her kids as I'd like her to be, it's ok, because she is a hands on mom, and I'm not alone with anyone but the baby most of the time. When I do have the older two, we're getting along.

It can only get better from here. Right?

So here's a summary of my current status as a snobby Long Island nanny:

The dog still won't pee where he's supposed to when I let him out. He pees on the porch or the sidewalk for me and over in the corner of the yard like a good dog for everyone else.

The baby calls me Mama. It's like de-ja-vu...

I still don't know where the cutting boards go so they've been on the drying rack for three days.

I hate my shower. It's one of those glass stalls and there's no elbow room. Every time I open the door water gets all over the bathroom and the temperature faucets are so sensitive that I bumped one with a bath sponge and scalded myself the other night.

I don't know why people have fancy china. No one ever uses it. It just sits there taking up space and gathering dust.

And,

R has now threatened my life three times, two with resulting time outs. More to come, I'm sure.

On the whole, I am doing well. I know I have a lot to learn here and I know my time here has purpose. I think I am prepared to live here and enjoy it for the next couple of years, as planned, and I definitely wasn't sure about that a week ago.

Now I better run. The baby is eating my computer charger.

Tourist in Action.

Today is my day off.

Unfortunately for me, R doesn't understand the complicated workings of in-home employment. She came and got in bed with me around 9. The kids are off from school today. But I forgave her because she is getting easier to be around and because I wanted to get up anyway.

I had big plans.

I got directions from T and walked the 2 miles to the bus/train station without getting lost AT ALL. On the way I introduced myself to New York by stopping at a Rite Aid and purring at the beer aisle. I bought three pairs of dollar socks and a water and finished my walk to the station.

I got maps and schedules like a good out-of-towner. I let some boys sitting on the curb make a few cat-calls before shooting them a dirty look and haughtily walking away. I had one of the worst chicken salad sandwiches of my life at Dunkin Donuts. I think it had Miracle Whip in it, and that's not even food.

I walked around a HUGE block, about a mile. I made phone calls (reception!!)and texted everyone who has been texting me and getting few or no replies.

I found a coffee house and got a snobby latte and read my book and texted some more.

I was happy about the coffee house, because it had free wireless and I immediately planned to come back with my computer on future days off and get some serious photo work done. And in the midst of that happiness I looked up and saw across the street one of the best buildings a body can lay eyes on.

The Great Neck Library.

It's not very big, but when has that ever mattered?

If I can surround myself with books and fellow bookies and nerds and friendly, reading old people and unfriendly librarians, then I am happier than an ant in the playroom.

I was there for a good hour, reading titles, reading my book, texting some more.

I had an early supper at Chipotle, one of my favorite places ever. Their guacamole is laced with mouth-watering deliciousness.

After I ate I went to the neighboring Walbaum's (and I'm playing fast and loose with the spelling here, that could very well be wrong) and tried to get in. Twice I walked through the exit and turned around. Twice. I went in once, the inner door didn't open because it clearly said "NO ENTRY, EXIT ONLY." And then I went outside stood there for a second, about-faced and did it again.

I'm not from around here.

I could not spot an entrance.

I watched a woman on the phone (who, judging by her accent, IS from around here) stand in between the doors and wait for someone to come out and then sneak in that way.

I thought about following her but then I felt creepy. Plus, I'm trying to prove that I know what I'm doing here. Any idiot can find an entrance to a grocery store, right?

Well.

I walked back down the sidewalk the way I had come and then back again.

I gave the exit a dirty look for not being an entrance and then I accidentally made eye contact with a girl in the library window. She was watching the dumb tourist fighting with the exit door.

Determined to save face, I only slowed for a second and then kept walking past it and sure enough, a few feet further down, disguised with racks and rows of hanging flowers, was the store's actual entrance.

Victory.

Five minutes later, when the sticker shock that comes with grocery shopping in New York had subsided, I got some produce and hot sauce, two of the most important things in the world, and got the heck out of there.

My walk home was lovely.

I thoroughly enjoy singing aloud to my iPod while walking down the sidewalk while everyone gives me funny looks. I'm going to do well here.

I smiled at a few unsuspecting New Yorkers and ONE of them smiled back. ONE. And she was older.

What is the world coming to?

Normalcy.

Well, normal for New Yorkers anyway.

That old cliche about New Yorkers never slowing down? It's completely true. Even the kids are always in a hurry, always doing something, needing to be busy.

But today we had a normal morning, with normal mild-sized tantrums and everyone leaving a few minutes later than intended, as normal.

I organized the storage room off the kitchen and the closet full of cleaning supplies that up until this point had been stacked by a blind person. Or maybe T.

I did normal things like laundry and ant killing. I even texted for a while in the one spot in the kitchen where such a thing is possible. T was in and out all day doing work and running errands. The kids had a half day at school so she went to get them and go play at a friends house, giving me more time to get some things done around here.

And I got them all done.

And I was thinking today that I really like my job. While T is not the same kind of person I am used to working for, or even being acquainted with, I think of all the ethnic Long Islanders I could have been stuck with, she is among the most down to earth and easy going. She goes out in stained sweats and only wears make up when she has to show a house. She plays on her front lawn barefoot with her kids. I would have never been able to picture that had I not seen it. She's going to continure to be hard to read and she's going to be more difficult to get along with than I am used to. But as far as people go, she's not the worst, and that's saying something.

I think most people are the worst.

For a people person, I'm not that much of a people person.

This afternoon I had a couple of hours to myself and I was able to do my own laundry, watch TV and play online a bit. I must say, that's my favorite perk to this job. I live at work so I can stop working whenever I want and have downtime, provided the kids are not crawling all over me. But hey, when have I not enjoyed that?

And for the record, I don't hate laundry with the fiery passion of a thousand suns anymore. My basement suite is RIGHT next to the two washers and two dryers and the cabinets full of soaps and the laundry sinks and the clothes line. The obsessive compulsive inside me has been grinning gleefully since load one. I can do everything right here in this room without having to run up and down flights of stairs or ask if anyone else is using the washer or if anyone has quarters. It's MY laundry room and I LOVE IT. I never thought I would say that.

I still don't iron though.

Ant-tastic.

Today I accomplished more than I have ever before accomplished on a Monday.

I took it upon myself to clean the playroom, a favorite room amongst the ant societies. Since T chases the kids around trying to stuff food in their mouths instead of having them sit at the table like normal human beings, there are ions and scores of crumbs and splashes all over the playroom.

Having my own experiences with ants in the house (not the pants) I knew there had to be a really good, sticky reason why the ants were congregating on top of one chest of plastic storage drawers in particular. Today, I wanted to find out.

After my breakfast, which consisted of more fruit than I usually eat in a week, I waited for the kids to leave for school and then began ruthlessly sorting through their toys.

I have been here for four full days. The kids have played in this room approximately 800 times. I have seen them use three toys.

Much to my pleasure, they don't have a lot of toys anyway. This is one thing that I really respect T for. She encourages the kids to play outside and to use their imaginations and as a result, they find little pleasure in electronic, light up, spin around, beep beep, flashy toys that take four D batteries and wake up the entire neighborhood.

I dumped a huge load of toys into the kitchen sink and returned to the playroom. After moving the pile of dusty, useless and unloved stuffed animals that are required in order to have children, I finally reached the drawers.

I had to move a box of those stupid cardboard blocks that some buffoon invented to make children cry when the baby takes a bite out of them, and two art projects that had been flattened by said box. And there was the root of the playroom ant problem.

A puddle of sticky, half-dry soy sauce.

REALLY?!

Yes.

I scrubbed every inch of this playroom, every toy and every surface. I disinfected every fabric covered object and vacuumed until the baby got nervous that I would never stop.

I've only seen a few ants in the playroom since. Yesterday I cleaned the kitchen and sprayed in there. Soon, they will all be dead and we shall rejoice.

I should probably also mention that today was R's birthday. I didn't even know it was coming.

T played it down, much to my surprise. She wanted R to have fun and be excited, but it wasn't the over-the-top production I would have expected. She doesn't spoil her childen in every way, only some. So I am learning to respect her more for all these things. My attitude toward her is much improved, and I know that is a direct result of answered prayers. So thanks to all of you!

I'm going to go watch a movie in the clean playroom and squash the remaining ants.

Frustrated Redneck.

I learned something new about Long Island today. It is impossible to break into a house here.

I woke up late, as expected. My decision to not try to navigate the city this morning to get to church left me with a whole lot of nothing to do. E and T were taking the kids to a parade today and since I was home, I kept the baby.

We had a slow breakfast and by the time they were packed up and out the door it was time for Baby I to nap. While he was down I watched a movie (TIVO!), ate some lunch, read myself a bible lesson in efforts to make Sunday feel like Sunday should and cleaned up the morning rush.

When he got up he ate his lunch and watched me clean the sticky off the kitchen floor. We're having an ant problem. Not the normal sized ones either but those tiny, little, practically microscopic ones that look pretty harmless when you see just one but in fact they travel in huge swarms (colonies?) much like fleas. So when you see one in your house it's safe to assume that billions more are watching you.

When I was confident that no ants would cross me for at least fifteen minutes, I packed up Baby I and his stroller and we headed out for a stroll.

My instructions were simple.

Lock up the house if you go out.
The silver key is the back door -- through the garage.
The gold key is the front door.

I wheeled Baby through the house over my nice clean floors to the front door, since I didn't want to leave the garage hanging open. I tested the key.

It worked.

But the latch on the door looked shady at best. The house is very old and my employers purchased it in an estate sale. The mechanism on the front door is made of iron. Old, old, heavy iron. I was scared.

About two or three years ago I was house sitting for a friend. This friend lives in a newer house with all working doors and all working keys. I used to lock up the house when I took the dog walking and one day...

I locked myself out.

My old house, where I lived with my mom and family for several years? Went to get the mail...

I locked myself out.

In my Allentown apartment where coming and going of my roommates and friends was very frequent and common and therefore I should ALWAYS have my key...

I locked myself out.

So, today I was being extra cautious. I HAD MY KEYS.

And I locked myself out.

Only, NOT REALLY.

The instant the door closed I had that special feeling that I was going to be stuck outside with Baby for quite sometime. Good thing we had brought along his water cup. I thought about calling E, but I wanted to see what my other options were first. Plus, I still wanted to enjoy our walk.

I circled the house to the garage. The actual garage door was locked. The side entry that would let me in to the "back" door was locked. The actual back door of the house was locked. The door on the other side of the house...locked. I tried both the gold and silver keys in every door.

I returned to the front door and tried AGAIN.

I stood on the door step of my fancy pants Long Island house in this fancy pants Long Island neighborhood, trying to break in for at least ten minutes while Baby I babbled in his stroller.

It was time for plan B. I circled the house again, this time resorting to my most faithful instincts. Find an accessible window or a tool that can be implemented as a lock-pick. My credit cards were all in the house and I hadn't brought any steak knives along for our walk, silly me.

I could not believe I was being faced with a locked house that I could not somehow break into. No windows, no shotty doors (well, not shotty in the way I needed them to be), no maintenance men who I could call and demand bring me another key or at the very least a drink, no roommates to beg to hurry home. Just me and Baby I, my iPod, a cup of water, a wad of clean tissues and my junky little cell phone.

We went on our walk.

I called a few people to chat, since my cell reception is all but nonexistent in the house. I power walked through the neighborhood, doing my best to look rich and too important for you. I saw a lady watering her plants on her monstrous front patio and I nearly offered a Pennsylvania hello, but then I remembered where I was and returned her look of indifferent disdain, an expression both invented and perfected by New Yorkers. (To my NY family and friends...I'M SORRY I DON'T LIKE YOUR STATE. I STILL LIKE YOU!)

Sadly, the large ring around the neighborhood eventually looped back to my locked house.

I tried the front door again. I tried the side doors again. I tried the back door.

I sighed a little.

My phone dropped the call it had been making to a friend.

I took that as a sign to stop pretending I could break into this house and just call E. He answered and I asked if there was some trick to opening the front door. He said it was kind of old and needed a good push but that it worked.

I tried the key again, in both directions as I had been doing obssesively for at least a grand total of 20 minutes before and after my walk.

Seriously, 20 minutes.

While on my less-than-sixty-second phone call with E, the door popped open.

I sighed a little more.