The Peanut has been asking to spend the night at Grandma and Grandpa's house for several weeks now. I was on the phone yesterday with my mom and Peanut was waving rather wildly to get my attention. And who am I kidding, she was whispering RATHER loudly too, about her NEED to talk to Grandma as I was getting ready to hang up. So Peanut gets on the phone and asks Grandma when she can spend the night and I hear an "uh huh.....okay.....love you too, Grandma" and she hangs up. I ask her what Grandma said. Peanut tells me confidently, "Grandma said I can spend the night in the next year."
"The next year? Are you sure it wasn't before the end of the year?" knowing full well my mom would never give Peanut a 365 day window of spending the night--and even just as doubtful that she would even give a 60 day window of time.
"Nope, that's what she said." And she went back to playing.
So I talked to my mom this morning, "So mom, what exactly did you tell Peanut about spending the night?" {We had just made specific plans for her to spend the night this weekend} "Oh, I told her we've been really busy, but definitely in the next month or so."
While Peanut's concept of time is getting much better than it used to be, I guess we still need to work on terms like months and years.
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The Little Brother's newest phrase any time he sees a picture of him and his sister on the computer, a cell phone, a framed picture, etc? "Ohhhh, that so CUTE!"
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My
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I have an awful habit of biting my nails. Yes, I know. Tacky. Gross. SO unladylike {spell check tells me this is all one word.....who knew?} It's an awful, nervous habit. Well, I figured out if I paint my nails, I am much less likely to bite them. So girlfriend has been keeping her nails painted for the better part of two months and my nails look so much nicer! But of course, then I have to repaint my nails nearly every week, because while I won't mess with my newly painted nails, once that first nail chips? All bets are off and I start picking at the polish. See? NERVOUS HABIT.
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The Hubs and my dad felled the two large trees in our front yard this past weekend. Boy, was that stressful to watch. It probably would have been a good idea to call in some professionals for peace of mind (mostly mine!), but that just wasn't in the budget and the trees sadly needed to come down. Why, you ask? Because we hate the leaves. I am SO kidding! No, really there were two major factors. We have a VERY tiny yard and the trees were just getting to be too big. Like many people, the prior homeowners didn't account for the fact that trees grow and they get bigger. When that happens in such a tiny little yard, the root systems can start to cause problems with the foundation as well as any paved surfaces. Just a couple blocks away from our house, our city went through the neighborhood and highlighted (with hot pink spray paint, no less) any damaged sidewalks from tree roots. You can guess who gets to pay to have the sidewalks replaced--the homeowner. Well, we are not in the position to pay $5-10K to have the sidewalks around our home repaired. While the trees hadn't done any damage just yet, it would have happened in the next couple years, so the trees needed to come down while they were still somewhat manageable to do ourselves {you know I use that term very loosely, right?}.
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| The deer on the right was just a little visitor we had this past summer. SO NOT normal for our little suburbia! |
Anyhow, thanks to my dad's help and Hub's cautiousness (not that my dad is an idiot--he's not at all, I just think they balance each other out in some ways) both trees came down just fine. Of course, I DIDN'T get a nice before shot to give you an idea of just how big the front tree was, but it was pretty good sized.
Enough to make this mama's heart rate sky rocket and palms sweaty during the cutting process and to make my knees/legs like Jell-O for the better part of 15 minutes after the tree was down.
We live on a corner, so Hubs played the part of traffic control from both directions in case there were any cars coming at any point during the cutting. The bigger of the two trees was definitely tall enough to lay across our street, so obviously we didn't want any liabilities from the whole thing. So Hubs was cautiously darting back and forth across the street to watch for cars (and a falling tree!) while my dad was hopping around the trunk of the tree with the chainsaw going full force, doing his best to "expertly" cut the tree so it fell that way instead of this way.
Yes, I was a little stressed.
But I couldn't NOT watch, because you know I had the full capability to stop anything bad from happening. Ahem.
In the end, things went great (even the weather cooperated! PTL!!) and Hubs has nearly all the debris hauled off. Now he gets to work on getting the trunks and roots torn out.
And silly me, I thought the hardest part was over!
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