Who taught you how to drive?

I've never been all that squeamish about driving. I have had exactly one bad car accident and I was young and it did shake me up quite badly. Sometimes I get nervous when I'm behind the wheel and I have to merge on the highway and no one will let me in or when I'm turning left out of the Lehigh Street Wawa, but on a regular basis I'm pretty calm in the car.

And I have been in the car with some very bad drivers.

I've been friends with tail-gaters, speeders, slow pokes, oblivious idiots, daredevils and even drunks. I know people who don't slow down when monsoon rains are falling because their pride is so twisted as to convince them that they don't need to. I have encountered several so-called Pennsylvanians who don't know that when you are driving in three inches of snow on a down hill you NEVER brake.

And I watch intently from the passenger seat to see what kind of damage they're going to do to the car and possibly our bodies, but I don't get the kind of heart-racing, sweat-inducing, foot-trying-to-brake-in-the-back-seat anxiety attacks that I have seen my mother have while my brothers were behind the wheel.

The most anxious I have ever been in a car was my first time in Africa, when I first experienced the game "Chicken" in its most pure form. There aren't many traffic signs in Uganda and none of the ones that exist refer to your actual driving habits. It's sort of a free-for-all when it comes to passing and unless you live there, your guess on the speed limit is as good as mine.

When you're sharing the road with cars, vans, trucks, even bigger trucks, bicycles, motorcycles, motorcycles with families of five on them, pedestrians, cows, goats and small children there are bound to be a few adrenaline rushes at work.

But here in the States with all of our guard rails and painted lanes and traffic signals and laws I have never been too antsy about being safe in a car.

My dad used to take the family station wagon up to 100 MPH just to make my mom mad. And my brother insisted that you should accelerate when going around a curve. These kinds of things thicken your skin.

I especially won't react if we're going under 30 MPH.

While traveling with a roommate one night in her father's big cargo van (the stalker van) we skidded down a small snow-covered hill. Our backseat passengers gasped and stopped breathing. In the front seat, we kept eating our Frosty's and french fries.

I just don't see how it's worth it to get worked up over the idiot scraping alongside your car in a narrow turning lane. It's not. Unless you're riding on the outside of the car and are being slowly squished to death, that kind of accident is typically not dangerous to your personal well-being. So calm down.

Speed changes things, of course.

There's still a degree of reason in my head when all thirty cars ahead of me have stopped and my driver is just slamming on the brakes. I'm seat-belted and I can brace myself and I don't think many people have died in fender benders.

It's the accidents at freeway speeds that freak me out.

I get nervous when I'm in a shaky old minivan, as I was today, with a driver who is blatant about the fact that she can't see, as she was today, and is squinting to see what's in front of her (today) while yelling at the six kids in the back seat (today), speeding (today), missing her exit (today) and cutting off the guy in the right lane as the pick up truck in front of us slows to a stop...

Just like today.

That was scary.

And I didn't say anything and I'm not a compulsive gasper (Steph <3) but I did watch with dropped jaw in complete astonishment at the terrible driving skills being exhibited.

I am often in awe that people like this are even alive to continue to drive this badly.

Perhaps, as an unlicensed adult, I should stop judging, but all that was going through my mind the second time we ran a red light and the third time we were stopped at a green one was, "WHO TAUGHT YOU HOW TO DRIVE?????"

Or maybe, more importantly, "WHY DON'T WE RE-TEST PEOPLE EVERY TEN YEARS??????"

I fail to see why it is necessary for fisherman to apply for a new trout license every year and yet anybody can pass a little driving test at the age of 16 and still be riding that wave of credibility at the age of 80.

It just doesn't make sense.

It wasn't until we forcibly merged from two lanes to one at 70 MPH with an SUV directly at our side that I got concerned and texted my mother.

I wanted her to know that if I stopped answering her calls at that point it was because her college friend is an "I'm going to do whatever I want and hope for the best" driver.

And all I can say is, I am an advocate of seatbelts on the highways and I believe the only reason the cop to our right didn't pull us over was because he was also completely in shock at how extremely bad her driving was.

Black beans.

Today I did some little things that didn't quite get finished in the makeover. One was vacuuming spiders out of the pantry. While doing so I noticed that Someone had placed my two cans of black beans inside a cereal box. Twas strange.

Being around lay people is surprisingly refreshing. T and the gang aren't quite as uptight and snooty as the rest of their neighborhood, but still, something about kids running around half-dressed and barefoot just feels like home.

Here's the evidence of the makeover.

Before:


After:


Before:


After:


And just for kicks...

During:


During:


Last night one of the kids asked me if we could do it again.

"Do what again?" I asked him.

"That thing where we go away and you clean the house."

Mom, you did a wonderful thing here. It's actually kind of sad that you're not here to see how much they are enjoying it. Today the oldest girl actually cleaned out her dresser drawers in keeping with the new theme of organization that thrives in the house.

I keep contrasting these kids and my LonGisland kiddies in my head. It's so strange to come from that world into this one. Oddly enough, I can speak more frankly to these kids because in the NY society I'm living in, the kids run the show and heaven forbid we speak too harshly to an innocent child!

I love being able to tell a kid they can't play in the pool five minute before dinner because that would be silly, instead of rescheduling dinner and consequently the rest of the night because T feels that the kids know when they need more play time and when they have had enough.

Yes, this has happened.

In any case, I do miss my little nuisances.

I hope I can find the dinosaur stickers they are looking forward to!

At dinner here tonight I made the kids pasta, which seems to be all they eat. I made myself a black bean burrito and let one of the kids taste it. She had adamantly informed me that she didn't like black beans before dinner. But then she loved my burrito and kept sneaking bites of beans. The nerve.

My biggest accomplishment today?

Five out of six kids tasted their green beans. Four of the five who tasted them, loved them. Score.

Two days late and several states away.

I don't know where to begin.

It's after 10pm and I'm in Florida. It's been a long two days and I haven't had enough sleep. I apologize in advance if I ramble, repeat or cyber-stutter.

I guess I should start by keeping my word and complaining about the weather.

IT'S HOT DOWN HERE!!!

In New York we've had a heat spell. I'm sure those of you from the North are aware that it has been opressingly hot and humid lately. We had almost an entire week where it was too gross to walk to the pool unless you intended to move there.

I've been laying off the pool lately anyway though, and my head has nearly dried out. For a few days I could hear clearly and everything. The hacking cough hasn't quite finished, but it was on its way out. Was. Remember that for later.

R has been attached to my hip when home. She has been asking me to come pick out clothes with her in the mornings, which is huge because she never wants anyone offering any opinions on what she wears ever. Yet I have been invited to offer fashion advice.

On her third to last day, she woke up on the wrong side of the bed -- Nay, the wrong side of the state, and she refused to go to day camp. She missed her bus but then that morning T and I had errands to run with the baby so T worked in a drive to R's camp and drove her out there.

I ran my errands around town with the baby in the stroller and then took him to the park that's halfway between our house and town. And got some insight into the rest of Great Neck.

The blend of ethnicities at the Cutter Mill Park is refreshing. I was able to chat with several babysitters and moms who aren't all the same religion and culture. The park is on sand and all the moms had taken their shoes off and were getting good and dirty with the kids. One half of the park is awesome water features that spray and rain and sprinkle and blast. Baby I played on the slide for about five minutes before he stripped and streaked clear across the playground to get to the water.

He's such a great baby.

J continues to eat for me. When I was preparing to leave I asked him if he would eat while I was gone and the answer was a resounding yes. I also promised stickers to both kids if I got a good report about their behavior when I got home. My aim is to have them excited enough about my homecoming to remember that they have to LISTEN to me. We'll see.

I left Friday morning for Florida.

I got the snobby experience and I loved every minute of it.

I called a car service the night before and made the arrangements. Friday morning I ate breakfast with the kids and said goodbye to them and sent them off to camp. T ran to the grocery store to stock up on garbage that she can get the kids to eat without any help.

When she returned home I was packed, the kitchen was clean and we hung out and chatted with the baby for a while. The cab pulled in at exactly 11 o'clock, came to the door and took my bag for me.

I sipped my home-brewed decaf-lactose free latte and gabbed with the driver while perched on the freshly polished leather seat in the shiny black Lincoln. At the airport he carried my bag to the curb and I summoned an airport employee to move it to the kiosk for me and do all the work printing my boarding pass. It's hard to get out of snob mode, but I'm not rude about it and I'm a good tipper.

Checked in two hours early I went to find my gate and sit around.

My plane was late to board, late to take off and late to land in Philadelphia.

I continued to act rich and spoiled in Au Bon Pain where I (without meaning to, really!) cut the entire line and dictated my order to the boy behind the counter. He looked confused, then nodded and set about making my veggie burger. That's when I noticed everyone else in line who had written their orders on the provided menus slips and were waiting patiently for their food. Oops.

I got my food first and then went to eat at a table.

Then I went to find my next gate for the last leg of my trip. On the way there I spotted the most beautiful store in all the world and they were having a clearance sale. I walked in and promised myself I wouldn't buy anything. I started to pet sparkly things and pretty things with feathers and buckles and right as I began trying on a pair of shoes my phone rang. I answered my mother's call and ran out of the store while I was distracted enough to not cry about the shoes that could have been.

I found my gate and a man I could eye-flirt with.

My plane was late to board and late to take off. Five minutes after boarding time the poor man working at the counter informed us that the flight was overbooked and asked if anyone would like to stay overnight and fly out in the morning. After they worked that out it took another twenty minutes to talk about it. When they finally started boarding they realized that we didn't have enough carry-on space left. They started making people hand over bags to be checked for free since they don't know how to properly fill a plane or abide by carry-on regulations.

All you rude people who pack actual suitcases as carry-ons should have to pay extra fees and sit directly outside the bathroom. Knock it off, you're ruining planes for everybody.

I finally got into my seat and the captain informed us that we would be taking off in five minutes. Then he took it back.

Twenty minutes later he said we'd go and moved the plane onto the tarmac. And then faked us out again.

Twenty minutes later we were eighth in line for take off.

Fortunately, by then I was deep in conversation with the lady next to me.

She was an incredibly intelligent woman from State College, PA. We talked for the entire flight from before take off until landing. Nonstop talking. We talked about homeschooling and child-rearing and math and science and psychology and family and arts and Pennsylvania. It was so nice.

After the first two hours the man sitting on her other side chimed in and we carried on like old friends.

Half an hour before landing I found out that the man was a Christian and we were able to talk and inadvertently witness to the lady between us. It was the friendliest, most pleasant and easygoing conversation I have ever had about God and religion and Truth.

It was an incredible flight.

When we landed, for some reason, we couldn't get off the plane for a while. We kept talking while we waited and I was able to call my mom, who was driving around and around waiting for me and let her know we had arrived. The West Palm Beach airport won't let cars stop and wait for arrivals. So she circled.

At baggage claim I realized that I have no idea what my suitcase looks like. I started handling each one that made it to where I stood. Mine was the third one.

Being here has been amazing so far.

I got to hug my mother, who I am becoming increasingly in awe of. She's my mom so I have to clash with her and get annoyed by her regularly, but when I'm not doing my daughterly duties I am just baffled by her stamina.

When we got to the house Friday night the six kids who live here were all over the place instead of sleeping. They dragged the poor three year old out of bed to greet me.

I should pause here and catch you all up.

My mom is living with an old college friend in Florida who is the guardian of her six grandkids and is sick. My mom, who already raised seven and a half kids, is raising six more. It's like an addiction.

The house the family is living in was dirty and poorly furnished.

My mother had planned a secret makeover for Saturday after I arrived. We tried to go straight to bed on Friday night so we could get up for it.

Instead, we talked until we fell asleep way too late. In the morning the family was out of the house for the day and Snobby Nanny got to do one of her most favorite things in the world: clean and organize a house however she wants.

Teams from area churches came in and out all day and two of my cousins came to paint and move the big furniture. Things were donated and painted and cleaned and built and organized and we got to rush around like the TV crews of Extreme Home Makeover and put it all together and then have a big reveal when the family got home.

And the best part was they didn't even know it was coming.

I cried a little.

After the makeover and the reveal and a quick wardrobe change Mom and I had a mildly snobby dinner at a Japanese and Thai restaurant and then hit the local Walmart where we were checked out by the best cashier I have ever met.

Then we came home and tried to go to sleep but there were a million and one things to do.

Early this morning Mom got up to leave for her flight North. She said something to me and I remember trying so hard to wake up but my eyes wouldn't open. I heard her talking, saying bye and my brain just would not do anything about it.

So I didn't argue.

I got up and a friend of Mom's from church picked me up for the service. I got to meet all the other friends Suze has made at the church here and chat for a long while with them. I came home to kids and chaos and made dinner for everyone.

These kids are responding to me pretty well and I have high hopes for the week.

Being here so far is nothing like I expected but it's not bad. And strangely, I do miss my spoiled little Great Neck kiddies.

Maybe I'll call R tomorrow.

Seven days is a long time.

The plus side to having no internet at home is that I really, really look forward to my hour at the library on Wednesdays.

I have 36 minutes to post this.

I'm not really clear on what's been happening for the last week. I have about three gallons of pool water lodged in my head and it's making my days pretty cloudy. I get to hear out of my left ear off and on and I half to keep a supply of tissues on hand for the floods that are coming out of my ears and nose. Sometime in the last three days some of it moved into my chest so now everyone thinks I have the plague and I keep getting dirty looks as I walk down the Great Neck sidewalks hacking chlorine and pool water. It's hawt.

On Friday, E's father fell and injured his hip and head. He was rushed to the ER where he underwent surgery late Friday night. The family gathered at out house for Shabbat dinner that evening and I had the pleasure of hiding in the kids' room to avoid having to talk to any of them.

I put the baby to bed for an hour that night.

The good news is that E's dad is already in recovery and will be home later this week.

In other good news, T is pregnant!!!!!!

I called it. I hoped for it. And now it is here. I'm getting a baby!!!

Before we knew this, on Sunday evening, we were sitting around talking after dinner and she reminded me that she would like to keep me for fifteen years. Later in the same conversation we were discussing the illegal pools in the neighborhood. It seems three or four people have private pools that were put in before the laws changed and now they can't sell their houses with out filling in their pools. One clever family has an indoor basement pool.

"A basement pool?!" I asked her. "Why don't you have a basement pool? I'll stay for fifteen years if you get one."

"Where will you sleep?"

"WHO CARES? I'll sleep outside! Get a pool!"

My upcoming trip to Florida is weighing on T though. She's having some separation anxiety. She's trying to find someone to babysit part time while I am away, but she's more concerned about not knowing where anything is in the house. It's my house now and she's constantly asking me where things are.

I usually know, except this week the good can opener has gone missing. We've been looking for it for four days. Completely tore apart the kitchen. Twice.

She asked me jokingly if I would take R with me since she's been getting along with me so well lately and she often gives her parents a hard time. I told her to pay her airfare and not complain about psychological damage done to R from spending a week with six special needs kids and my mother and I. She laughed and retracted her request.

I'll be traveling alone.

On Monday I ran out of big projects to fill up my afternoons. I put the baby to bed and have my leisurely lunch and then I normally do something really involved, like rearrange a closet or room or clean something that hasn't been cleaned since the family moved in. But it's all done.

There's nothing left.

I read my book until I almost fell asleep on top of it. I folded two loads of laundry for three hours. I was literally aching for the baby to wake up so I could feed him and have something to do. Since I quit soaps a few months ago, there's really not much to watch in the afternoons.

T felt the same way because she slept all afternoon. When we met up in the kitchen after our down time she looked groggy and grinned at me.

"We need something to do, huh?"

She brought down a 500 envelope mailing the next day. We spent Tuesday afternoon at the kitchen table stuffing envelopes together. That's when I told her I suspected she was pregnant. That night she got a test and proved me right.

This morning I slept in, as is my ritual on Snobby Wednesdays. I woke up fifteen minutes before my alarm to the sound of the AC repair man coming down the stairs. I thanked God for my room dividers and went back to sleep.

This week we had two big rain storms. The first involved hail the size of quarters. The second involved huge puddles and torrential downpours. We repeatedly checked the basement to make sure no water was coming in.

And none was. The basement has been properly waterproofed and now we know for sure.

The day after the last storm I found a HUGE puddle on the far side of the basement, not my side. It's amazing I found it, because I usually don't even look over there. But I did and there was a river coming out of the AC generator and running all across the floor.

Hence, the repair man.

We've been living without AC for two days now. I can only hope that while I am gone the repairs are being made. Not that it bothers me at night the way it bothers the family on the air condition-less second floor...

20 minutes to go. I am feeling rather rushed right now.

Down at the pool, Ed the Overseer continues to ask me if I live here every time I go.

In the basement, I have encountered exactly one silverfish this week and it was on the other side of the basement where nothing was sprayed, displaced by the newly installed water feature.

T found a stash of framed vintage comics strips and caricatures they inherited in the estate. I intend to find out if they're worth money. And if they're not, I will acquire twenty or thirty picture frames that T doesn't want. SuhWeet.

The highlight of my week has been hanging out with J. I'm not sure why or how it worked out that I had more time with him than usual but he's been warming up to me extremely well. With that change comes better behavior for me and he has actually asked me for food, real food. Chicken, veggies, fruit. We picked cucumbers and tomatoes in the garden together and the rest of that day he kept reminding me that I was his friend.

He told me one afternoon out of the blue that he wished I had gone to the beach with them.

He stills gives me a hard time at least once a day and throws a good snot-inducing tantrum or two, but he's definitely doing much better with me. I can only hope my time away this month won't undo everything I've worked for.

I would hate to come back and have to start over again.

I don't know if I'll be posting next week because I may not take my day off before my trip. If you don't hear from me then, you'll hear from Snobby Nanny in Florida.

And I guarantee I'll be whining about the weather.