Safe again

After living here for the almost two full years now, I really had come to the conclusion that the only thing I was in danger of here in the state of Tennessee was perhaps developing heart disease from living so close to the Loveless Cafe or only being able to get our news from Fox.

But despite the relative safety of the area, we somehow decided to install a home security system nonetheless.

Our last run with this wasn't exactly successful. All of the doors and windows in our Florida home were wired with a very menacing voice that would alert us every bloody time someone would crack a window, but neglected the big security breaches like Jingle running away every single day. It also helpfully notified us to a low battery in the smoke alarm for the last 3 years we lived there despite it having been changed repeatedly. When we finally moved it felt like a prison break that I imagine the new owners are alerted to every six minutes to this day.

But this security system was going to be different. We got the premium package that included all of the bells and whistles.

Which doesn't do much if those bells and whistles are of the silent variety.

About 9:00 in the morning last week, a very nice police officer showed up on our doorstep with his hand on his holster to let us know that our new system was indeed working according to plan as it is apparently not-so-silent in the Sheriff's department. After a brief ID check and confirmation that Jingle was not exactly the world's best watch dog as she fell asleep on the feet of a stranger bearing a gun in our living room, the officer determined the perpetrator of the breach.

His interrogation of the suspect was swift yet thorough--the five year-old female confessed not only immediately, but proudly and unapologetically stating she pressed that little red button on the unit she was told never to press, "On purpose just to see what would happen."

The officer, whose heart visibly melted all over the dog at his feet, didn't even cite her for stealing his heart. Instead, he took her outside and showed her all of the bells and whistles in his squad car.

We learned many lessons this day. Stevie came away with that this would probably not be the last time Jessie saw the inside of a police car and Sean determined that the alarm keypad should maybe go up one shelf higher.

As for me, I realize that two years was much longer than I would have thought it would take us to become that family, and I wish the Loveless served tequila.

Guilty. 

Teaching an old, fake-furred rat new tricks

One of the problems with having children spread so far apart in age is that I can sometimes forget the lessons I've taught myself over time.

Through a mixture of pseudo-science, fear, and fair dose of all-out lies, I had convinced three of my four children that Chuck E. Cheese was the source of pink-eye. Those three had experienced the eye-prying torture of burning drops after a days of gunk-induced blindness, so it wasn't all that difficult to dissuade them from ever entering that den of disease again.

But just like a child who has never been exposed to chicken pox, Jessie had no immunity whatsoever and had begged for months to go. I had run out of excuses, and pink-eye just sounded like coloring her face with a marker which she does every day anyway.
So we went.

Luckily, there weren't many people there. Just a few bamboozled grandparents who looked as though a trip to the liquor store for cheap vodka was imminent-- to either drink or to disinfect with--who am I to judge? So Jessie and I spent two hours and ten bucks playing games, riding rides, collecting tickets and eating frozen chicken nuggets over the soundtrack of clicking fur-covered robots, video game trailers and children's screams.

And you know what? It was pretty fun.

While I still think its health department score hovers around the temperature of Nome in January, Jessie was thrilled the entire time. She laughed, she played, we did everything she wanted to at least twice, and there was no having to share her tokens--or her time-- with anyone. Everything was exactly how she'd imagined it and there was not a hint of disappointment. And when all was over, she took her tickets and bought prizes for every one of her siblings with no prodding from me.

So I still stand by my original assertion that this place does and will cause pink-eye, but perhaps I'll amend the lesson to inlcude an occasional misty-eye phenomenon as well.

Getting our Spring on

Getting our Spring on with Jessie means...

Spring cleaning. Check.

Spring pictures.



Gardening.



A pretty nice season. Glad it finally arrived.

This is what we do when everyone is at school

This is how we roll when no one is looking: leftover spaghetti lunches on our faces and buckets on our heads.



And despite how it looks, the spaghetti lunch was not in the bucket.

Although it probably is now.

(And her name is the the bucket in permanent magic marker to distinguish her from the other messy toddlers with affinities to beaches. I guess.)