peevish mama

On Memorial Day, our timing was ridiculously off. Doctor Dash was working, so I puttered around the house with the kids all morning, promising them a trip to the pool after lunch.

If you remember Monday, you’ll remember that it got really cloudy and windy from about 1:39 to 2:14. That’s exactly the time frame that we fools were at the pool. The kids gamely jumped in the water and swam for a little while before emerging with a bad case of the blue lips. So we packed it in and stopped by Hollywood Video to see if some great movie would jump out at us and keep us laughing cozily in a pig pile for the rest of the dark and gusty afternoon. Saint James and Supergirl couldn’t agree on a movie and they were being so pigheaded, that it rubbed off on me and we left empty handed and disgusted. Actually, Devil Baby got Snow Princess Dora, because I didn’t have it in me to fight her too. The case looked like it had been chewed up by a dog which was not only gross, it boded ill for the DVD inside. Sure enough, it didn’t work and because I am lazy, I just threw it in the drive-thru return box the next day, foregoing my four bucks and perpetuating the cycle of Snow Princess Dora let down tantrums. My apologies to whomever is stupid enough to rent it next.

By the time we left the video store, the sun had come out so I forced my crabby children to take a walk with me. We crossed the creek, hoping to catch some of our old neighbors outside. As much as we love our new house, we sorely miss our old neighbors. We are pretty much the only people on our stretch who even think about hanging out in front of the house. At our old house, I could step outside for a few minutes to clear my head or take in the view and eventually someone would meander over for a chat, walk by with their dog, or simply wave from their adirondack chair. I am actually quite shy about making formal plans, so this easy, casual, spontaneous socializing with neighbors was just what I needed. As a new transplant to this city, as a mother of babies who couldn’t do much more than follow slowly as they toddled or tricycled up and down the sidewalk, I came to really enjoy and depend on the snatches of adult conversation that I could gather up by just stepping into my front yard. Our friends Cheryl and James used to sit on their front stoop with wine – we called them the spiders because it was impossible to walk by their house and not get stuck in their web. So many times, the kids ran around for so long in a wild pack and we would get so distracted with chatting, that we’d finally just throw up our hands and order pizza for dinner, reemerging from our respective houses with arms full of beers, strawberries and carrot sticks to throw into the smorgasbord. 

As we walked up the street, Saint James rang the doorbells of his buddies and Supergirl scootered ahead, having spotted Salt and Pepper Polymath reading in his wobbly wooden chair. A man after my own heart, he’s an outside guy. Before I knew him very well, I saw him sitting outside reading on a cold (by most people’s standards), but beautiful day. I can’t remember if it was fall or spring, but I do remember being secretly gratified that a thick skinned al fresco reader had moved in next door. 

With a tiny wince of embarrassment, I watched Irish Laddie and Princess Pea pull up and their sweet girls tumble out of the car. Of course. They were heading to Red Vogue and SPP’s for one of their lovely holiday dinners. Because it was too late to turn around, and because I have embraced my pathetic side, all semblance of pride abandoned as part of my former, pre-crutches life, and because I was sans husband for the day and hadn’t spoken to an adult in over 18 hours, and because Red Vogue and SPP insisted and because I know they were being genuine, and because my kids love playing with Irish Laddie and Princess Pea’s girls, I agreed that we could stay. And stay we did, for a delicious feast of fancy brats, sesame peanut pasta salad, green salad and the most delicious caramelized grill fennel with an asian dipping sauce, topped off with shortcake with strawberries and freshly whipped cream. Deefreakinlicious. The kids requested their own table and as they had done on Easter, sat and chatted over their dinners for a shockingly long time – like civilized, socialized little people – sigh, maybe there is hope. It was truly lovely. Thank you! 

So our unfortunate timing turned out to be very fortunate indeed. Now that we’ve moved away from our neighbors, we don’t have all that time swirling around us, putting us in each other’s paths, gently smoothing the way for idle chatter on cement steps and sloped green grass. Now, it’s all about timing. Less shy, more deliberate, and killer timing.