So, J and I took a short trip this last weekend to see one set of grandparents in central oregon. More on the 7 hours of time in the car alone with my one-year-old later, it was an adventure!
This story is about yesterday evening, shortly after we got back to the house. It was raining pretty hard when we finally arrived home, and so I decided to load myself up with as much as I could carry in one trip while still being able to carry J, so as to not have to go back outside. I made sure to grab all the necessary stuff in my one trip. Well, as soon as we got into the house Jaxon started squirming (4 hours strapped to a carseat will do that to a baby) and the dogs were running around like idiots they were so excited to see us, so I just dropped all the stuff in the front nook and went to sit on the floor with the dogs and Jaxon and get everyone calm.
Well, I realized quickly (the dogs immediately beginning to lick the baby’s clothes was a subtle clue) that J had rubbed every bit of food he had eaten in the car all over himself, and so I went to change his diaper and get him out of his gooey clothes. I decided since it was within an hour of bathtime that I didn’t need to put him in any clothes, and he could just be a naked-except-for-a-diaper baby for a little while.
So, I went about the business of settling back into the house. I unpacked J’s stuff (first on the list so that I made sure to get it done before he was in bed), started some laundry, and mopped the muddy paw prints from the weekend off the floor. All this action caused my house to get a little messy, not quite getting everything out of the nook but having it be there half unpacked and spilled out on the floor (a result of my digging for laundry).
I was in J’s room when she knocked. I did not hear the knock itself (must have been pretty quiet, I didn’t have any music on or anything) but I knew someone must be there because my alarm system went off (the dogs started barking and ran for the front door). As I walked around the corner to where I could see the front door, I saw her standing on my porch, a little distracted by the furry ones turning circles and barking at the door. She noticed me as I got to the front door and sheepishly waived. I smiled at her as I bent over to pick up the furry ones (they won’t run away or anything, but not everyone appreciates their usual greeting) in their usual one-stacked-on-the-other arrangement so that I still have one hand free to open the door.
She introduced herself (I have no idea what her name is now, I am no good at this sort of thing) as the neighborhood watch coordinator of our block and wanted to welcome me to the neighborhood. (Sidenote – I have lived there f0r almost 6 weeks and she is the first person in the neighborhood to talk to me.)
I invited her in so I could close the front door in order to set down the now super squirmy stacked dogs. She came in and I realized that I had a pile of crap spread over the floor of the front room and apologizeed for the mess, that I was still unpacking from our recent trip. She said she tried to come over earlier and was watching for my car, but I was never home. Um, okay… (Those of you that know me know that home is my favorite place to be, and I am here often.)
At that point J walked out of his room, wondering where I had gone, and came walking towards the front of the house and us, whining. Once he realized I was still there and being boring, he veered into my room where his favorite toy called his name. (Let’s all remember that he is in nothing but a diaper, which is important later in the story.)
She gave me some past issues of the quarterly neighborhood newsletter (I know, right?) and some other information about the neighborhood watch program. She explained that she keeps a list of everyone on the block and could she get some information about me to add to the list? I started rattling off my information to her and she was jotting it all down on the clipboard she brought with her. At this point, I realized that Jazz was doing his pogo-stick motion all around our new arrival. I noticed this because I realized I saw his head popping up from the other side of the clipboard as she was writing down my information. As soon as I noticed this (I send to tune them out most of the time) I sent him on his way to find something else to do at that point, figuring that there was already enough going on for this poor woman.
The last question she had for me was if I had any kids and if the were “male or female”? I started to say that I had one child, a male, as I gestured toward J, who was still standing in my bedroom (visible from where we were). As both I and the woman looked over at him, we both noticed something, um, interesting.
J was standing there looking at us innocently, with his left hand down the front of his diaper. Yep. Classy, I know.
I just started to laugh (I don’t really think there was a better option at that point) and looked back at the woman. She murmured something about not looking and her eyes went straight back to the business on her clipboard. It didn’t take too much time after that for her to make her escape. And I don’t blame her.
Let’s review all the ways in which my family proved ourselves as the new white trash neighbors:
– barking dogs at front door that have to be restrained just to open the door
– clothes and bags strewn about the front room floor
– crying, naked baby wandering the house alone
– previously mentioned dogs springing straight into the air around the new visitor
– previously mentioned naked baby with his hand down the front of his diaper
Well, at least I don’t have to worry about her visiting us again, huh?
I hope you enjoyed this little glimpse into a short moment of our lives!