Tag Archives: neighbours

Please be my friend…


So since Vince turned 3 1 1/2 weeks ago, things seem so much different. I wonder if every parent notices this at this landmark age? And by landmark age, I simply mean a further continuation of the hell that was 2 that has now become 3.

But by hell, I really mean ‘fun’ and ‘awesomeness’.

Three is terribly interesting. Three means rather a lot of interesting conversations about a lot of interesting things.

Sometimes it’s about dinosaurs:

Vince: “Mummy hurry! The dinosaur is gonna get us!”

Mummy: “Oh my gosh, it is? What should we do?”

Vince: “We gotta hide!!”

Sometimes its just random arguments, politely worded..

Vince: “Mummy, I’m just gonna do this ober der, ok?”

Vince: “Mummy, I’m just gonna stand on dis right here.”

Vince: “Mummy, I’m just gonna take this from here.”

Mummy: “No. Vince, please don’t do that/take this/stand there.”

Please don’t open the fridge and try to pour your own milk. Please don’t carry my weights around the upstairs and state “Mummy!! I’m stronger!!” Actually, its OK that you do that. I love it. Please don’t sweep my floors. Please don’t pull the dogs tail, he will bite you for sure. Please don’t cry, I know the dog just bit you. Please talk to your Nana on Skype. Please say ‘hi’ to your Grandparents on the phone. Please, please, please…

It is just a huge, endless session of ‘please’. Mostly followed by ‘no’. Interspersed with dinosaurs and frogs attacking whomever is nearest. Frequent exclamations of “Mummy! I did a HUGE poo! Come see!” (and subsequent clapping).

Is this starting to sound like your life? Are you me? Are we the same person?

Not that I dislike it, it’s new and interesting. I like new and interesting things. I like Vince. Hence, I like this new path of ridiculous.

Today as a Lexus van drove slowly past our family walking, I thought “Based on seeing us, they probably are not going to move here”. Vince in a wife-beater with a monkey, combat shorts and dinosaur rubber boots, Edward in practically his underwear and myself in a tank-top I used to wear when I was hugely preggos and capris printed with flamingos…

Don’t you want to be our neighbors and friends? Don’t you want to share the joy of ‘3’ with us? Aren’t you already doing the same thing that we are?

We are JUST down the street. In fact, we are your neighbors already.

xoxo a.m.

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Haircuts, Celsius and Inappropriate chatter

Vince's face was WAY more violent looking than this. Baby puhleeze!


This weekend? Too many things to talk about.

Haircuts, or almost haircuts. Why my fridge’s internal temperature ‘randomly’ changed to Celsius. And what I said to my new neighbour that was just the pinnacle of “Jaime, please filter your mouth”.

Fun stuff.

Shall we start with the haircut? Lets!

Vince has an almost-mullet-slash-pony tail. The front part of his hair is currently approaching Justin Bieber comb-over, which I discovered yesterday while I was attempting to control his hair. Edward took him to school and didn’t notice. Made me giggle.

So thought was put into what to do about it. Originally the plan was Disney’s Magic Kingdom Barber Shoppe. The other option was Uncle John’s ‘Liberty Barber Shop’. And Uncle John is an actual relative that Vince has hung out with. We love John. Vince loves John, but pretends to be shy with him… He is a bit funny around strangers, so based on this, I thought this might be the better option.

There was a special kiddo seat AND a cape with duckies on it! None of this was enticing at all. This is, for sure, the first of many many MANY visits while we establish that this is, in fact, an ok thing for people to do. And by people, I of course mean Vincent.

Daddy had to demonstrate how you sit in the chair and get your hair cut. Vince was not that impressed. He was offered a sticker. Not impressed. We left. “Mummy!!! We got da hair cut wit da sissors! Ya! I like dat!” And suddenly? Impressed. And full of lies.

RIGHT. Lying is clearly something he is perfecting. And if you too want a proper shave and a haircut, check Liberty Barber out.

And so, moving on to my fridge. Well, it was on Fahrenheit. I guess that’s just what it’s automatically set to in the States. You know, since that’s what is used down here in the ‘Sauth’. Or other parts of this great country. That aren’t Southern. But that’s not even an issue.

So last month, my parents came to visit. Our fridge was Fahrenheit. And, then, suddenly, Edward and I were home one early afternoon and we just happened to glance over at the fridges digital temperature display. And realized that it was something that we just couldn’t comprehend. What were these digits? Why were they so incomprehensible?

Ah. I see. Too low. I need more numerical highness. And I have no idea how to change it back. Not even going to try. Thanks Mum (or really, thanks George. Since I know it was you).

And now shall we move on to our final installment of my non-filtered mouth?

Sometimes I wonder why I even talk to anyone…

One of my newer neighbours stopped by our place, with 2 of her children, selling Boy Scouts things. Of course we bought one. We always support them. While we were purchasing, she mentions the following: “We just moved in. Thought we’d introduce ourselves”.

My response? Do you even want to know? It’s truly awful..

“Hi!! Nice to meet you!”

“Yes, we’ve been here for about 1 1/2 years”.

“Oh ya, the YMCA pool is amazing in the summer. No, not too crowded at all. You might even meet Edward over there. Vince loves it, so they hang out there all the time”

And then?

“Yes, we have one son, about 3. Trying for a second. Not that we are actively trying. I’m not pregnant or anything, but it’s in the works”.

And finally:

“Oh my god.! Why am I telling you this!! I am SO sorry! It’s been a really long week”.


“I know EXACTLY what you mean”.

Oh thank god. Because I might have just sounded a little bit psychotic there, just for a few minutes. Good job at meeting people, Jaime! No wonder you had to join a freaking online group! You are, in fact, verbally challenged. Nice.

Oh. My. Lord.

So, there we go.

Haircut (not quite). Fahrenheit or Celsius. And not talking about rubbish to perfect strangers. I learned so many important things this week.

xoxo a.m.


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