I've lived everywhere BUT BOSTON for the last 2/3rds of my life, but....

YIKES!!!

Posted by: Elizabeth at 03:58 AM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
Post contains 85 words, total size 3 kb.

The neighbors are having a new garage built, which means they need to get their cars out of their driveway before all the big rigs arrive in the morning.

Driveways are a premium around here - of the 20 houses on our block, maybe 5 have one. And if you don't have one, you can't get one - so they actually add around 3 grand or more to the worth of your home.

We? Have a driveway. It's beat up and has weeds growing in it, but it's all ours and we love that stretch of asphalt.

The neighbors came by and asked if their son could park their extra car in our driveway for the duration. Our driveway is not quite wide enough for two, but long enough for five. Of course! Says us. Just put it at the top of the drive whenever.

Well, God unleashed a fury on us this evening. A storm, for you lay-folk. It didn't abate until about 1AM, and I was still up writing when I saw the lights crawl past my window and park NEXT TO CD's Passat.

I pulled on pants and ran outside. Waved my arms, my bra-free bosoms bouncing in the night air. "Kid! KID!" I shouted. "Pull all the way up!"

"What?" He demanded, utterly freaked out at my appearance at whatever time in the middle of the night and peering at me disbelievingly.

I crossed my arms and stopped bouncing. "Kid, you gotta pull up! You've blocked me, here!" I tried to be all subtle in pointing out that my van would now need a ramp, Evil Kneivel (or Wile E. Coyote) and 16 ounces of government grade explosives to escape the driveway.

So he pulled the car up. Next to my van. Practically had to crawl out the window to escape his car.

"Kid!" I shouted as he landed with a grunt in the bayberry bush. "Not there, Kid! Up! UP!"

He held up a hand, and dove back through the window back into his car. Pulled it up so it was now halfway past my van.

"KID!" I shouted as he attempted a hurried escape over the fence. "Not THERE, KID! I'll hit you!"

"You'll WHAT?!" He squealed, peering at me from the property line.

"I'LL HIT YOU!!" I waved my arms around, gesturing at the cars. My bosoms once again doing the Macarena. "No DEPTH perception," I explained at a half-boom. "Crash!"

"Uh," he shook his head. "I'm afraid to run over your bush there."

The one you landed in and flattened, not 5 seconds ago? I wondered. "No WORRIES!" I explained. "Just MOVE IT on UP!"

It began to rain again, and he scampered back to the car and started it up. Pulled forward another 5 feet, just clearing the bumper of my van. "Is this OK?" he asked, jogging away again. "Please?!"

"FINE!" I shouted, ducking back onto the front steps. "GOOD NIGHT!!"

"Whatever," he shrugged, disappearing back into his house and turning off the lights before I've even got my front door open.

Clearly? I'm THAT woman in the neighborhood.

Posted by: Elizabeth at 07:36 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
Post contains 535 words, total size 3 kb.

We wanted more than one. We were honest about it, right from the start. The both of us wanted a few children, bunched close together.

Maybe there's some who say a guy can't be 'baby hungry' but mine was - and is.

But he went ahead and picked the chick with the broken biology and, as the pastor says when he holds up the bag of treats for the Sunday Schoolers; "You get what you get."

We got one (1) copper-headed, funny, imaginative, affectionate, sturdy, and brilliant boy, complete with: dog, Transformers obsession, personality quirks, nudist tenancies, and overwhelming love of ketchup.

(The ketchup was extra, but nothing's too good for our kid!)

One? Is more than you can ever dream of - when you're dreaming. We often wondered, because an only child seemed such an unwanted situation, if we should reach out to the universe to find siblings for him.

But, as it turns out, one is its own treasure.

When I reached my limit some months back, frustrated because my son was with his friends (and their mother) and out of contact beyond the time he'd supposed to check in. But despite my repeated tries, she wasn't answering her mobile. I looked at CD and said, "right. order the damn phone."

I wasn't worried about precedent, or having to buy ones for other kids. My (almost) 8 year-old has a cell phone with a GPS locator because for $10/month technology means that his independence doesn't have to equal my stress.

Because it is just him, Bear has taken on a lot of responsibility. Since he was 6, he's been able to go out and start the car and the car heater for me on cold mornings.

The truth is, while he is very much the kid in the family dynamic, because it is just the three of us - we do tend to just hang out and enjoy each other's company without the big wall that both CD and I remember between us and our parents. We regularly decide activities together, by consensus. When something breaks, there's no dodging who did it - and we all pitch in to fix it. We expect honesty from each other, we also expect kindness.

On the one hand, I so sometimes ache to go through the baby years again. To discover a new person as they grow up. To be part of the cycle, again.

But most days, I realize how much I want this life, just as it is.

Oh, and I guess one more benefit? Is that we never, ever FORGET Bear. Not for a second. 'Cuz, you know... "One?!" "Here!"

Just saying.

Posted by: Elizabeth at 04:19 AM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
Post contains 456 words, total size 3 kb.