Friday, August 28, 2009

Super Mom

I had this great blog written.... all about diaper changes. It's ridiculous. I, who threw up at diapers PE (pre-Eileen), now change diapers with such finesse and such ease and such time that the topic deserved its own blog. Alas, maybe it will pop up soon.

There are more things going on this week than diaper changes. I mean... there are diaper changes, plenty of them, but this week was our first week of school! After 8 months of anticipation, LMC was dropped off on Tuesday with her cousins Tellis & Ford at MDO for four hours of playtime with Ms. Donna & Ms. Kay. LMC comes home tired and ready for some QT (Quiet-- and quality-- quiet because Ford is not around) with the M-O-M, that's me!

So we drop her off at school & start going about the new routine. I work, schedule appointments, and otherwise make myself more of a "worker" and less of a "mom" for four quick hours. Other than the occasional mention of said child, if you did not know me-- you would wonder who that sassy person was strutting into your office and talking about pensions, health care, and life insurance.

Super Mom. That's what I am striving for.

Other than the eight hours solo, I work, work, work next to a bassinet trying to be more like Husband and his 80 hour weeks. Work time is interment with playtime, feeding time, nap time, and of course, diaper change time.

This week though was a little more difficult to assert my tasks of the week head-on thanks to a little thing called a cold. A cold is no big deal to anyone over the age of, say, 22... but when there are only three months under your belt, a cold is nothing to mess with.

Nope.

You cry. A lot. Excuse me, let me rephrase that. When a three month old has a cold, they scream like, well, they scream like a baby... only a baby that is on steroids and has lungs like a thing that has really great lungs. Obviously my analogies are a little off today.

The neighbors call & wonder if your baby is okay. The parents call and immediately forget why they call so they can get off the phone. The UPS man feels your pain as he drops off another package to mom and baby rocking on the front porch. And the baby wails until the Baby Tylenol kicks in.

And there you are, Super Mom, wondering where the "S" went on your super shirt.

It's in the diaper genie with your blog about diaper changes.

Monday, August 17, 2009

North Carolina

Greetings from Chapel Hill, North Carolina!

College Town Heaven meet Green & Hippie Mountain Girl... you two would make a lovely pair. This town is as cool (if not cooler) than Athens. It is a cool 86 degrees outside in mid-August. This is not a "dog day" of summer, it is more like a puppy day. Apparently, too, this is above the gnat line. Husband and wife toodled around town yesterday when we got here and E just stared at the sorority houses, the college kids, and the very beautiful people. We agreed that we could wear baby blue for three years.

Today has been spent trying to get a better feel for the town, the neighborhoods, and what the people are like. Well, I will be happy to report to Husband when he gets done at 4:30 that the town is fun, the neighborhoods are quaint, and the people are just lovely.

However, the real estate prices have a little something to be desired.

Near downtown, a side street turned up a house with a sign in the front yard. It looked like something we could afford with a swing set in the backyard and a little screened-in porch on the side...

One point five million dollars. That has six zeros BEHIND the one!

Seriously?! This house was not that impressive, a paint job was needed, and well... there was not $1.5 there. I mean, the houses on Walton Way were nicer than this one.

Another house, in another part of town... slightly larger with a second story and a very slope-y lot with kudzu everywhere- up the side of the house, covering trees, going into the street- no exaggeration when I say "everywhere."

"Hi. My name is Rachel & I am inquiring about the house you have for sale."

"Oh, yes, we are offering it for $1.1 million...."

"Well, thank you for your time, but that is just a little out of our price range."

Ma'am, you can keep your six zeros... seven digits is a phone number to me.

Thursday, August 13, 2009

A Bad Georgia Fan...

I really am being a bad Georgia fan. It's not me, though. Really, it is not. It' Husband. Silly Husband. Silly interviews. Silly "rest of our lives." Silly career. Silly baby.

We are not going to be able to make it to any home games this year. SAD. This will be the first year, in a number of years, that I am actually willing to give up our WHOLE season ticket package.

Okay, you Dawg fans... anyone want to buy some tickets? We have two tickets... TWO! Side by side, lower level- section 127, row 3, seats 16 & 17. We are looking to sell them as a whole and not split them up.

Let me know if you are interested by emailing me... rmcagle @ gmail. com

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

Who does your pest control?

I forgot to mention yesterday that my short legged, little, bouncing friends are gone. They packed up and headed for the hills. But, I got a call today from Advanced Services checking up on my little buddies.

I was glad to report that there are only three people in residence at Casa de Cagle.

Talk about customer service! I cannot say enough good things about my favorite bug people. Thorough, knowledgable, and just all around fun people.

If you leave your bugs in your hands... stop it. What would be spent at Lowe's can be spent with the Bug People & it is one less thing on the chore list. Husband handled ours for longer than I care to tell you with minimal success. When the roach started drinking my beer and changed the channel to ESPN on the coffee table, there was an emergency phone call to AS and they were knocking on my 1920s, roach motel the next day. We had 'em on the run!

A monthly inspection found termites in our traps back in April... the next day... POOF! taken care of. No termite damage here. If it was not for them, there is no telling what kind of trouble we would be in when it came time to hire Mr. Trulock to sell the house! (because if you think that I am crawling under the house looking for bugs-- you've got another thing coming)

Cagles-1
Bugs-0

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

Ugh. Last week.

Last week was ridiculous. So ridiculous I could not rub two minutes together for an update on the Cagles. What started off as a casual, normal Monday quickly turned into chaos. Four little letters. Four terrible, horrible letters I cursed over and over again with my sailor’s mouth.

Fleas.

We do not have animals—secretly, I am not a dog person—but somehow, those little guys got into the house and spread like wildfire. Sweet Petit was like filet mignon to the little jerks. We did not even get to pack up, E & I just left.

Advanced Services came and treated a few hours later & it did not even touch them. They were everywhere. EVERYWHERE. For the whole week, Husband and Wife lived in limbo, crashing at my ‘rents house and then Brad & Martha’s. Four nights later, all we wanted was the following:

(a) Our air conditioner
(b) Our bed
(c) Clean clothes

In that order.

Ange, Woo, Brad, and Martha were all wonderful hosts to the lost Cagles and our 1,433 friends that tagged along and took up residence at Brother’s house… Martha was unimpressed—and rightfully so. I was mortified. Not only did I feel like an unclean person for keeping a house with fleas, but I shared my fleas with someone else who does not have animals.

Just fantastic.

Eileen was also in miserable spirits most of last week as she had her shots on Monday… which meant that Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday were spent with tears in her eyes and nothing could soothe her. Let’s just add some insult to injury.

No, no… wait… that would be the big ass limb that fell between our house and the neighbors. It knocked down part of the fence, Husbands tent that he was using to build his boat and… his boat. His pride and joy knocked down by a stupid limb. Fortunate for us, we have not found any damage. Yet.

Outside of our little existence, it was a sad week all around for other families.

My friend’s father passed away. I did not know him and cannot pretend that I knew even the slightest thing about him (except, I was told, he loved babies), but I know his daughter. I am fortunate enough to know his wonderful, beautiful daughter. His daughter is the kind of girl that will bring you Reese’s peanut butter cups because you are pregnant and suddenly the sweet tooth that never existed is craving peanut butter m&m’s. (Variety is the spice of life.) She is the kind of person that loves her friends, her family, and her husband with all that she has. And she admires him so—her husband. She believes in his work, his talent, and the home that they are beginning together. I am amazed by her, her kindness, and her genuine honesty. These things that she is, these wonderful qualities, are not things that just happen upon your life. These are things that are instilled in you from Day 1. Things that I hope to teach E. She must get that from him—her father.

Let’s take last week and flush it down the toilet.