Summer Vacation Destination: NC

 

I've always thought that summer vacation should be at least 2 weeks long.  I'd stay in a less fancy beach house if it meant we could be there for 2 weeks instead of one. But alas, my mother still pays this bill so I don't get to decide. Mumsy simply must have a space that is pleasing to both eye and soul, so alas, one week it is. Next year though, 2.

We are doing the same old thang we do every damn year, but with a few alterations. This year I take my lady and we get to teach her all the things about our place. She loves fishing and I'm super stoked to spend every day getting up early with her and the monkey to hit the beach for some surf or pier fishing. Monkey is having a hard time with the idea of her daddy not being there. I think she will be OK by the time we actually get in the car to start the road trip. He'd just be on the computer all week anywho.  And who knows, maybe by next year he'll come along with all of us. That's what I'm working towards, staying a family.

Meanwhile, I'll start stock piling sun screen, hats, towels, flippy flops and fishing stuff. Next up, all the reasons why we love this beach and can't seem to steer away from it. Ever.

Summer Break is Upon Us

My ex and I totally blew it when we realized, with only weeks of school to go, that we had NOTHING planned for the monkey when school is out. Since forever, and until kindergarten started, we had preschool/daycare. I'm off 2-3 days of the week, depending on whether or not I work weekends, but the rest? The in-laws would only commit to one day a week, but we had to figure the rest out. Luckily there's the very expensive YMCA camps and we are signing her up for 4 weeks of those. It will be loads of fun for the monkey and she will make some new friends. Also, the in-laws are helping with some of the cost. We also signed up for the public pool, so that will help. Here's hoping the water isn't cold all summer...and that monkey and I don't get kicked out for shenanigans. What are you doing with your monkeys this summer? 

One Year Lease

On March 27th, I moved out of the family home. The home where we brought our daughter to from the hospital when she was born, the one I painted multiple times, the one I tried to decorate, the one I cooked many Christmas cookies in, welcomed family and friends, planted flowers, celebrated birthdays and hanged pictures in. Going back to the house since then has been real tough. If I have to spend a significant amount of time there, I spin into a dark hole that is difficult to climb out of. I just cry and cry.  Luckily I have some wonderful people in my life that I can just text and help me climb my way back out. It will get easier over time.

This brings us to my apartment. Two bed, one bath, eat in kitchen and a living room. It’s in an old apartment in an old neighborhood. It’s on a dead end street with a bunch of cute old houses.  To turn left from my street, I have to cross a busy four lane road.  There’s a hospital one block away so we hear every ambulance that drives up. We also live a block away from the fire department in the other direction, so we hear them too. There’s some asshole that honks every morning at 6am as he turns the corner (makes me feel like Andy Farmer and the crazy mail man in Funny Farm).  The neighbors to our left have like 6 dogs that although we’ve lived here 2 months, all bark at us in a frenzy even though they see us every fucking day.  They bark at everything. They bark at the wind.

This is an old house that was built in the 40s and divided into a duplex in the 70s.  Hard wood floors, an adorable (non-functioning) fireplace and mantle, all original windows and a somewhat shitty kitchen. When I looked at the apartment the first time, it had this big awkward island that the owner agreed to have some contractor re-do because it took over the whole damn kitchen. But the counters they put in were put together with bits of glue and cardboard. So much nickle and dime shit up in here. But they put in some new kitchen flooring to replace the shitty old shiny laminate. Of course, it’s super white and textured so it shows all the dirt.  This place was described as having “central air”, but of course it doesn’t push all the way to the second floor. Let’s just say I have a new appreciation for window AC units. 

This place also has a basement! It leaks when it rains. Like little rivers from all corners, straight to the sump pump. Also thankful for sump pumps! Every bug you could imagine lives down there and earlier this week I saw a little garden snake on the stairs. The basement is where the washer/dryer hook ups are.  We had to take out one of the counters to get them through the wonderfully designed kitchen and to the door to the basement. I’m hiring movers when we leave this bitch.

All of this aside, I have made it really homey for me and the Monkey.  She and I painted her room pepto pink, hanged curtains and pics and just jazzed her room up. I’ve not done much with my room but hang some photos. I decided not to paint over the beige walls. They remind me of sand at the beach and go well with my art. Also, I’m tired of painting. Did I mention I painted the entire first floor? I did and it’s a fabulous shade of light grey that really made everything feel fresh.

I’m good with calling this place home-sweet-home…for one year. One. Year.

Molly out. 

Christmas Was a Disaster...And Other Thoughts

Christmas. My sister, my girlfriend, my family, we all had a hard time getting in the mood this year for Christmas. I watched Christmas movies, I cranked up the tunes way too early for social acceptance, drove around the neighborhood with my daughter to look at lights, made cookies galore, wrapped presents, trimmed the tree.  Just...all the things. But for some reason, this year didn't really "feel" like Christmas. 

Here's an old post from December I forgot about. Cheers!

I'm a nurse, the lowest on the day-shift totem pole, so of course I had to work Christmas Eve. I won't complain about it too much, many co-workers had to work 24-26th.  I mean, come on. However, my schedule meant I had to work 22-24 and finish all the baking and wrapping and packing after working all day. Then drive to WV on Christmas day, where the running began and didn't stop until Monkey and I ran out the door to head home on Sunday. We were both so relieved. Sad and relieved. 

Upon arrival, we learned that Auntie's brand new oven caught on fire when she spilled chex mix in the bottom.  That meant mom, dad and sister had to prepare and schlep food to her house Christmas night. But dinner was divine and the company grand, despite the sweaty, hot, new kitchen only half of us could fit in. 

The real ass kicker of the visit was my cousins and their babies. When we were all kids, we all could fit in granny's house with room to play. But all the cousins are married with multiple babies. Screaming, ignored babies and one whiny, ignored granny. Sitting in that house two nights in a row...by night two we (myself, sister and parents) were all so emotionally and physically exhausted we could hardly talk. Monkey and her cousins had a total blast and I'm so happy they got some play time together. But the reality is that we can't ever do that again. And my cousins just seemed to be oblivious to what we were experiencing. I suppose people see what they want to see. Hell, we will probably just do it again next year. Stay tuned for repeat bitching next Christmas, folks!