Oh hai. You has help? I can has some for her?

My friend Sarah needed a safe place to vent, so when she came to me I said, "Sure, here are the keys. Lock up when you're done. I'm going to go take a nap."

Plus, she offered to babysit in return. She doesn't know that, but she totally did.

But please, help this poor lady in need. She has three young boys, for chrissake. She's tired from wiping all that pee off the toilet, so you'll understand if she needs to bounce a few things off of someone who can cut their own food.

If you need me I'll be sleeping. Better yet, you don't need me that badly. Don't even dare try to wake me up.
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Shhhh…Sarah here from In the Trenches of Mommyhood. *whispering* Tania is getting some much-needed sleep. So while I’m here playing with the girls, Tania is graciously allowing me to vent on her blog about something that I am unable to mention on my own – THE IN-LAWS.

We’ve had computer “issues” in the Trenches. Basically, I lost 5,000 PHOTOS IN ONE FELL SWOOP! 4 YEARS WORTH OF PRECIOUS MEMORIES!

(Crap, I hope I didn’t just wake up Tania with my yelling.)

Anyway, it was apparent we needed some help. Thankfully, Hubby’s assistant’s husband is a tech guy. She reads my blog, and offered up his services. They came over on Saturday afternoon, along with their 2 little girls, and Brian went to work. Photos restored! Wine consumed!

It was when I was in the kitchen, preparing some appetizers, that I heard something. A car was pulling into our driveway.

The next thing I know, my IN-LAWS walked into my house. Uninvited. While we had guests.

Needless to say, I was FURIOUS. And needless to say, our guests left fairly quickly. Perhaps because they felt uncomfortable? Perhaps because they felt rushed out the door by the random arrival of Hubby’s parents?

So, upon our guests’ departure, I went about my business. Feeding the boyz dinner. Cleaning up the kitchen. Folding laundry upstairs. Anything to avoid contact with the party-crashers.

Eventually, they left.

And then I lit into Hubby: “What was that?! Why were they here? And did you know they were coming?”

He fired back, “No, of course I didn’t know. My dad asked me yesterday what we were doing. I told him that they would be here so Brian could fix the computer. That’s all. They’re 65 years old. They have nothing else in their lives. They don’t know any better. So don’t be mad at ME!”

So, to summarize:

My in-laws knew we would be having company.
They saw a strange car in our driveway.
Yet still walked into our home as if it were no big deal.

Mind you, this behavior is nothing new. Their “drive-bys” usually occur at the most inopportune times – either just when we’re ready to sit down and eat or else right before we’re ready to put the boyz to bed.

THEY KNOW what time we eat dinner. THEY KNOW the boyz’ bedtime.

I’ve held my tongue all this time (over 7 years). Smiled and grinned and offered them a drink upon their disruptive arrival, while silently seething inside.

But I’m done. This was the last straw.

I’ve decided they need to call us first before they just stop by. Which is all well and good IN MY HEAD, but how do I make this rule clear to them? Gulp.

Do I confront them myself? Yuck. Awkward.

Do I make Hubby do it? After all, they’re HIS parents, right? (For the record, Hubby readily agrees that it was extremely rude of them to stop in when they knew we had company. However, he’s nowhere near as irritated as I am.)

Or do I just GET OVER IT? The nice daughter-in-law buried inside me thinks this is the right answer. I don’t want to be a bitch. I don’t want to make any waves. I don’t want to offend them, even though they BUG THE SHIT OUT OF ME. They’re awesome grandparents. They help us out. They love the boyz to death.

What would you do?

This Post Is For the Dogs

Binky here, from 24/7. I'm sitting at Mrs. Chicky's place on a lazy Sunday morning. I brought my dog Roxie along. She's padding across the floors with her wiggle-butt in constant motion as she sniffs out clues as to the whereabouts of the two Chicky dogs. I also have reason to believe she is looking for Girl Scout Cookies.

This is a welcome moment of quietude amidst the chaos of moving week. On Friday, The Partner (that's what I call my husband of three years), The Boss (the toddling little girl who has been calling the shots around here for two of those three years), Roxie, and myself moved from a small, antique Cape Cod-style home to the place in which we hope to spend a couple decades, at least.

The sky on that moving day shone down in gray rays on my dog's head as she sat at the top of the hill, watching over movers as they emptied her home. The Partner and I took special care to make Roxie feel like a part of the goings-on. We were worried about her. Knowing the history of our sweet rescued pit bull, we thought that the roar of moving vans in New England might be, to her, like the slicing of helicopter blades is to those who found fear in the jungles or deserts. See, Roxie's first family moved away, too. But they left without her. They tied her to the fence in the backyard, where she remained affixed for two weeks. It was March.

One would think that neighbors on that Providence, RI, street would have unleashed her and taken her in, or called Animal Control. But maybe they were waiting for someone else to do it. Or maybe they were afraid of what the authorities would do to an abandoned pit bull. The latter is a valid concern; a vast majority of pit bulls who enter shelters in the United States are put to death.

But someone finally did cut the dog from her chains. Her compact body was two weeks' emaciated. She took to the streets, a skeleton with soft white and brown skin and a random assortment of black spots. It was at a construction site that she finally found the first stranger she could depend upon. A guy on the job patted the passenger seat of his pickup truck and invited her in. She hopped up. This man happened to know a woman who knew a woman who rescued pit bulls. The wheels were put in motion.

The rescuer named the dog Roxie. She found a foster home for Roxie with the owners of two other pit bulls. The foster family called their new charge "Roxie Amoxycillin" for all the meds they had to administer to get the dog's system back into functioning condition. Roxie thrived.

Then the rescuer found a permanent home for Roxie, with us. She's been a part of our family for three years. In her complete adoration of all things humankind, I see a walking definition of the term "unconditional." Instead of licking her scars, she licks people.

When we moved into our new home, we took Roxie on the tour. "This is your house!" we told her. She was cautious. She sniffed slowly. When we reached the expansive carpeting of our bedroom, we got down and rolled her onto her back so we could rub her tummy. She laid her head sideways on the floor as her skin stretched tight over a gaping jaw. "We're home!" we assured her, again.

It's our third day here, and Roxie is still getting her bearings. As I unpack the kitchen, then the den--sometimes Roxie's underfoot, sometimes not--I wonder how I can tell her, in no uncertain terms, that she will never have to worry about the March air at night as experienced through the chain links of a cold fence from which she cannot extricate herself.

Becoming a Mom Part Deux

Motherhood was a big transition for me the first time around. My husband & I lived a casual life, enjoying the freedoms of student living. I worked nights and midnights, sleeping the day away, enjoying the computer throughout the night on my nights off. It was a fun, laid back life.

Along came Becca. We decided that there was no time like the present to start having children. I do not think we really knew what that actually meant to our laid back lifestyle. Yet Becca seemed to fit right in. I adjusted to living in the light of day and J totally slipped into the role of Dad, participating in the daily tasks of raising our little pumpkin. Becca is a routine kid. She thrives when she knows exactly what to expect, so we have followed her lead and life is good.

Now here we are two and a half years later with a new bundle of joy. Ethan our second child arrived a tad early but with perfect timing. Becoming a Mother the second time around has been a different experience for me.

I am savouring every little moment with this little. Short of divine intervention, we have decided that two children complete our family. This is my last opportunity to hold, nurse, burp, wear and love a newborn of my own.

Becca has a very calming effect on me. I am a better person now that I am her mom. I did not think it was possible, yet little Ethan has done the same, just more. I am more calm, laid back and happier since he came along! Still my husband remarks how he thought I would be more anxious about things than I appear to be. Becoming a mom again has been good for me.

We are about to continue our crazy travelling adventure soon. Everything is up in the air and all vague until we receive "official" news. This would have sent me into a tizzy pre-children. I would have fretted and drove my husband nuts with questions and what if's. However, at the moment I am relishing every little detail about being a mom to Becca and Ethan ... And trying to get some sleep, balance chores, crafts, playdates, diapers and so much more.

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Chelle is a Canadian girl, living it up in California with her cute husband and two adorable children. Keeping her blog Crazy Thoughts by Chelle, as a creative outlet and a connection with home. Keeping it real with her beloved Apple computer, designing blog templates and going on endless adventures with a smart, shy toddler and an ever hungry newborn. You can find Mrs. C your amazing blog host over at Crazy Thoughts by Chelle today.

You can see other Blog Exchange posts here.

On the Eve of Spring Festival

Some days I get caught up in the differences between China and the United States. The US is home and I am use to it. So, even after 6 months here are days where I feel like I am not use to the dirtiness, the smells, the manners (or lack thereof), the food. Those are the hard days. The days when I start to wonder, Why China? Why now? Why did I push so hard to get here?

But, on days like this one – the Eve of Spring Festival, I am so happy to be here. All of the dirtiness and confusion and frustrations melt away. To be in China for Spring Festival, or Chinese New Year as most Americans call it, was an amazing experience. It is as important if not more important than Christmas is to most Americans. For a lot of families, it is the only time they are all together for the entire year. For some mothers and fathers, it is the only time they will see their children for the entire year. The only time. Every other minute of the year is spent working just to get by. My frustrations and hardships pale in comparison. And it makes me remember when I am here.

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This photo and post is courtesy of Jennifer Noveck. She is currently on a Fulbright grant doing research in China about how development is affecting women's work and lives.

If you are looking for Mrs. Chicky you can find her at myblog today.

For more information on the monthly Blog Exchange go here.