They’re Not Voices, They’re Emotions Darn it!

“Well done, you! Talk about rock star status! You’ve been in California for two weeks now and have two interviews set up with two different educational technology companies! Your birthday is 2/22. Two is your number, woman!” Joy is a bit of a weirdo, but she certainly knows how to make me feel good. I was so excited. I have had so many people tell me not to lose hope if I do not find a job in educational technology right away and to give it a few months. Well, in the wise words of Chris Brown, “Look at me now! I’m getting’ paper!” Joy seems to put the weirdest songs in my heart when I get excited. “Yeah, well, they will probably take a second look at your resume and realize all of your experience has been in teaching. You have no technology background other than a crazy expensive Masters in Education Media Design and Technology. Keep that teaching license handy, Kate. It is almost summer break and schools will be hiring.” Ah, the comforting thoughts of Reality who I like to call Debbi, Debbi Downer. How do I know Debbi’s real name is Reality? It says so on her shirt. "Oh, Kate! It's going to be just like the movies! Think Melanie Griffeth in "Working Girl"! You're going to take public transportation into the big city for work and be a rock star for the company." Okay, so my Joy is a product of the 80s. Also keep in mind, in the Midwest we don't have subways or a BART. We can walk or bike nearly anywhere we need, not that we do. I mean after eating steak & potatoes for breakfast do you feel like exerting any energy? Public transportation is a novelty to us Midwesterners. As the next two days passed, I researched each company and came up with great questions to ask and key words I knew they would be listening for. Company one called. They wanted to do a phone interview first. I answered the phone with a voice that said, “I am confident” but really my palms were sweaty and I had no idea what to expect. Todd introduced himself and sounded like he was more nervous than me. His questions were so generic. “How long did you teach kindergarten? Why the switch to seventh grade? What fun things did you do with your classes?” And the dreaded, “Do you have any questions for me?” “Um, yeah, Todd, if that is really even your name. How old are you and how many hours have you had this job, Todd?” I am so glad I rarely give in to Anger. “Not at this time, Todd. Thank you so much for your time. I greatly appreciate it.” Joy always knows what to say. How does that 7-minute phone call even count as an interview? Is this how Californians do it? They think they can get enough information about a person in 7 minutes to know whether or not they want to hire them? This might work in the Midwest, but it would be face to face so you could look the person in the eyes and read them, not over the phone and with such lame questions. Only two questions would need to be asked, “What three things do you value the most?” and “How do you feel about the Patriots?” If God, the Bible, family, or hard work were not somewhere on that list for the first question, and the answer to the second didn’t involve spitting, cursing or a disapproving grunt you had better polish up that resume for the next job. The next day was a phone interview with the second company. Todd set the bar so low that I am pretty sure a cat performing the interview would be an improvement. This phone interview went incredibly well. The questions were solid and the interviewed even gave me personal advices from childcare to restaurants to check out since I was new in town. I hung up with a face to face interview set for next week. “You have been trapped all day every day in this house with a 4 year old and almost 2 month old. Adult conversation will be so much fun! Lets think about what to wear!” “Um, yeah, back to what Joy just said. You just had a baby a month and a half ago. You should totally look in your closet and find something to wear. I’m sure it will be in there. Oh, like that robe, or maybe try your husband’s side of the closet. I’m sure something will fit from over there.” Debbi, always bringing that harsh reality slamming to the front of my mind like a tidal wave. Day of the interview I decided to wear a dress that had a bit more flow to it. I left the house a little early as New 7’s app had just pushed a notification alerting me of traffic on the road I needed to take. “Well, crap, Kate. If you weren’t so directionally challenged you would have realized the traffic was for the opposite direction. You are now sitting in the parking lot twenty minutes early and looking like a fool.” “Just get out of the car, own your excessive earliness and wait patiently until it is time. You look great by the way.” “Psh.” I got out, walked inside, and asked to speak with Jeff. The man behind the counter looked up and made small talk with me. Joy took over, that nerd. The gentleman and I cracked each other up. I felt at ease. I walked into the room with Jeff and the HR director, gave my presentation and nailed it. Jeff explained the next step was to bring in the president of the company to finish the interview. Wouldn’t you know it, the guy from the front desk walks in. *insert wide eyed emoji* Jeff makes introductions. “We go way back! What like 30 minutes. Boy, those were wild fun times.” “Oh my word, Joy! I cannot believe you just made her say that. She looks like a fool!” The rest of the interview I had to keep reminding myself to not bit my lips and to keep my hands still. The president explained more of the job to me. There would be sales involved. At this point Debbi took over. “Kate, you do realize that sales means numbers and math, right? Remember how well you did with that in high school? I’m going to guess this company does not give extra credit points for dressing up for spirit week like Mrs. Cook did. You have never done anything like this. This is so far out of your range. Rethink. Rethink. They are not going to want someone like you. They know you cannot do this. Just saying. Love, Debbi.” Two days after the interview I was called and offered the position. The next day the contract was sent to me. It was about this time that I realized Debbi Downer was not her real name. Shoot. Reality wasn’t her name either. Her real name is Self Doubt and she is a real…you know. She so easily can take control if allowed. If allowed. Do not let Self Doubt take control. Follow Joy and you will always surprise yourself! This coming from the newest Educational Technology Consultant.

Take a Hike

In order to keep busy while the boys are in daycare this week, I decided I would try to venture out and explore where I live. I dropped the boys off at Ms. Chris’ house and told her that I was going to hike the hill next to our house again and maybe go for a long walk. To this, she explained, “Girl, you don’t even know where you are.” She could see the confusion on my face and decided to write down a few things for me. She told me about several parks that I needed to visit and a few trails to explore. She told me in a challenging way to not do the same things I had already done, but to try different things. She was right. Too often in my life I keep with what I know. I decided I was going to be adventurous! I went home and looked up hiking trails near me. There was one that didn’t seem too far off. I went to grab the address from the website. To my surprise there wasn’t really an address for this park. The address listed was “the end of Laughlin rd”. I thought I’d give it a try. As I drove I saw many gorgeous sites. I saw beautiful hills and beautiful neighborhoods. I took my left onto Laughlin Road and continued on through the outskirts of several cute neighborhoods. Then neighborhoods started to become more scarce. Soon, there were no houses in site, but there were horses and cattle. I kept driving. By this point my curiosity was taking over. The road started to narrow and signs reading “Rough Road Ahead” were becoming more and more frequent. I soon understood “Rough Road Ahead”. The road narrowed to the width of one care and the surface of the road became more like a trail that an actual road. I was thankful as I drove that another car was not coming from the opposite direction. This would have caused me anxiety, as I would have needed to pull off the edge of the road to allow the other car to pass. When I say pull of the edge of the road I was not on a cliff. It was more like an elevated road that’s edges ended abruptly. There was no guardrail and your car would have certainly rolled at least twice had you fallen off. I began to start worrying about the lack of human life around. Then, I started to notice that many of the horses were blindfolded in the fields. What were they not suppose to see? Am I walking into the makings of a horror film? If I keep driving down this dirt road am I therefore the girl who is running up the stairs being chased? Soon I started to see several parked cars together and a building that looked much like a house. As I pulled in, I saw the park’s sign and knew I was in the correct place. I pulled the car into a parking spot and started to gather my things when I realized, I still do not see anyone. I searched with my eyes over all the massive hills that surrounded me for a sign of human life. Nothing. I looked at the recreation house thinking I’d go in and talk to a park ranger and ask question. No one. I got out of the car and walked to the trail maps that were posted. There were so many and they were very long. I looked around at each trail. The trails were nothing more than a path that was wide enough for one person to walk along and even then, the trails looked like only a few people had ever walk along them. They were not as clearly stomped out as I was used to seeing. I take another look at the parking lot. It was then that I realized I was a bit out of my league. Out of the six cars that were parked on the gravel parking lot four of them were Subarus. The other two looked like cars a bun wearing, bearded, hippy man would drive. I took a deep breath. I can do this! As I walked to the trail that I had decided upon I noticed another board. This board read, “Warning: Be aware of mountain lions and rattle snakes! They will not attack until they feel threatened.” *insert wide eyed emoji* Seriously? It went on to explain the difference between the snakes you would see and the sounds a rattlesnake will make when it is feeling threatened. This is the point where I start thinking about what to do if I encounter either of these creatures. There is not a soul in sight that would see this go down nor do I believe there is a soul within earshot that would hear my scream. I decided to go hike somewhere else. I drove another 30 minutes in the opposite direction and found a massive hill at another park. There were people! I walked up to the two I saw and asked about the trails. They pointed me in the direction of a certain trail that fit my description of safety and difficulty. It was a beautiful hike. Not a snake in sight nor the growl of non-domesticated animal. I hiked four miles and felt amazing. Today, I am going to be trying another park and hopefully will have the same experience. I will be looking at the types of cars parked in the paved parking lot and the amount of human life I see around to decide if I will be getting out of the car, or looking for a new park.

M.I.A.

It has been four months now that I have lived in California. I am progressively getting better at getting around without the help of my phone’s GPS. I have had several instances where I get the boys loaded up into the car and am going to head out, but then see that my phone has only a small percentage of battery life left. That’s okay, I have my Mophie battery. When I see that battery is low, I panic. What if my phone dies? I am sadly one of those people who only knows four phone numbers by heart, my husbands, my own, my childhood phone number, and 911. What if my phone dies and I do not know how to get home? I know I can stop at a gas station and ask for directions, but I have a problem that I am working on. That problem is, when people talk to me giving me important information, my brain will panic and shut off though my eyes and facial expression let the person believe I am still actively listening and understanding. The time old saying of “In one ear, out the other” is exactly what is happening. So, if my phone does die and I do have to stop to ask for directions I will need to unload both boys out of the car, go inside, write down word for word what the attendant is saying, load both boys back into the car, reread the directions and pray that the attendant never said the words “Head North on ______, then turn West…” because I will find a cozy cardboard box to call home and hope that David comes looking for us. Today was the first day in four months that I have been away from my boys for more than two hours. Today they started the new daycare. I had zero worries about them being in the care of Ms. Chris, the real challenge was can get there and can I handle being without them? Getting there turns out to be a breeze. I only have four roads that I travel on and am there. As I dropped the boys off W runs off to go play with the other kids and baby B begins to cry. Ms. Chris quickly sets him under the ceiling fan facing the other playing kids and baby B is suddenly happy. Psh! They are handling this whole “momma’s not with us” thing better than I think I am about to. I said my good byes and headed home. David told me I should go shopping to keep my mind off of being without my babies, so I plugged in the shopping center into my GPS and headed out. I had a good time doing a little needed shopping, but when I got home the loneliness hit me. I didn’t have any little hugs or squishy faces to kiss. I didn’t have any crying or favors to take care of. It was silent. *insert wide eyed emoji* What do I do? Well, I’ll tell you what I did. I made myself some lunch, folded laundry, took a nap, perfected a Dubsmash video to send to my sister, and sat down. It’s only 2:30. I cleaned my kitchen. I’m running out of things to do, or at least things I want to do. I missed my boys so much. I had been looking forward to a little me time, but this was too much me time. I feel like I have to discover who I am without my kids. I decided I’d go bring in the trash cans and get that done before getting the boys. I go out and see my recycling tote and organics tote, but there no is garbage tote out why I had placed it. I took care of the other totes and looked all around for my missing garbage tote. I called sanitation who questioned me. “Do you know who would have wanted to take your tote?” “Well, I have offended many people who would seek their revenge on my by taking my garbage tote, so I can’t really narrow that long list down.” Is what I wanted to say. I’m pretty sure that this was going to be a case for Ice T and the Special Victims Unit . Instead I said no. “Did you put it by the curb this morning?” Yes, the computer is plugged. Seriously?! “Yes, I am positive that I placed by the curb last evening.” “Oh, well sometimes the totes fall into the truck. We’ll send you another.” Could we have not just started with that? I went and got my boys without using my GPS. Loaded them up while receiving loads of hugs and kisses. Now, all is right with the word again.

Just Like Animals

I have a friend who loves animals. She is madly allergic to them, which only makes this love affair even more hilarious. She once got herself worked up about an upcoming Dr.'s appointment. She, while expressing her anxiety of said appointment, went off on a rabbit trail. "Oh! Wouldn't be awesome if you walked into a doctor's office and instead of elevator music & silence that only breeds more nerves, they had lots of puppies or kittens?" I nearly drove us off the side of the road laughing at this. Not b/c it was an outrageous thought, but because it was an outrageous thought coming from the Benadryl poster child. She has a sense that most hunting dogs would be envious of. She can hive up just by hugging the owner of a cat or animal of any kind really. She jokingly, unless it could really happen, told me the other day that she wished she could raise a tiger. As we discussed this we began talking about animals that had been taken from the wild, cared for by an unnatural source, then released back into the wild. The animal did not know what to do. It did not want to leave the human family it now had. It would continue to come back to the humans and try to live life the way it had grown to know. I am that animal. A month before I moved to California I had just had Baby B and did not go anywhere. I did not drive due to the healing process that needed to take place. When we first moved to California I did not have a car. I was limited to being at home or with in walking distance from home. I never went anywhere unless it was the weekend and David was with us. I didn’t mind at the time because that is what I had come to know. I found a way to have fun. The boys and I went to the park, we took nature walks, or we played football in the side yard. We had our fun. My dear husband and a friend drove my car out to California the other week. I now have a car of my own here in California to drive. I could finally go to Target, go to the zoo, museums, or even drive into San Francisco any time I want! This is exactly what I have been looking forward to. I have had my car back in my possession for nearly two weeks. I have gone out possibly four times. *insert wide eyed emoji* I find that I am still staying at home doing the same things I had been doing before I had my car back. The boys and I go for longer walks or hike the hill next to our house a little more frequently, but nothing has really changed. My husband has given me the freedom of having a car, but like an animal raised by humans, I keep going back to home. Tonight, I took my son to the movie theater. I used my GPS to find the theater downtown. It may be a smaller downtown, but it was hoping tonight. I started to get nervous trying to find a parking spot and still make it to the movie on time. I finally found a spot to park, got my son out of the car, and walked quickly to where my GPS told me to go. I walked up to the ticket booth with skepticism, as I did not see one person walking in. As I walked up I quickly realized this was a performing arts center not a movie theater. UGH! I explained that I was from out of town and looking for the movie theater. I instantly felt uncultured and like an idiot. We finally made it to the theater and made it in time for the start of the movie. After the movie, and hearing that I was the best momma and getting many kisses on my hand as we walked back to the car, I was filled with happiness, so much so that I did not plug into the GPS the address to get home. I figured it out! It felt so good to be able to go somewhere and not need to look up directions. I am beginning to feel at home.

My Reality

Fireworks are an amazing thing. They can be so fun and beautiful, yet so annoying and hazardous. We only had fireworks one time a year in the Midwest and that was for the Fourth of July. Living in California there are many more opportunities. In the Midwest everyone drove out to the local high school, because there were only two, one on the North side of town and one on the South side. You’d lie out your blanket and spend an hour to two before the fireworks even started playing football or lighting sprinklers. As you watched the fireworks show you’d be listening to the local radio station that synced up the display to Patriotic music. You would meet new people next to you who would share their picnic food or drink with you and the evening would leave you with a sense of camaraderie and community. For the last few years my family has been gathering at my Aunt and Uncle’s house for a day of swimming, eating, and fireworks. It is always a blast. I have come to look forward to that part of summer vacation when we go back to visit. This year was a little different. Due to the move we did not go back for our usual summer trip. I was bummed that I’d be missing out on all the fun, but decided to start thinking of ways to make new holiday traditions. David and I decided to have his colleague/friend, her eight month old, our good friend from Florida who was visiting, and our neighbors the Miyagis over for dinner. We had Mexican food, of course, because what doesn’t say American like burritos and guacamole? We had a great time and were so full. We were not sure there would be any fireworks due to the major drought we’ve been having. In the almost four months that I have lived here I have seen it rain one time for about 4 minutes and people are talking about lighting fireworks! I decided to Google our town’s firework show. It was during this time that I learned there were, in fact, fireworks downtown and that it was $20 parking to see the show. *insert wide eyed emoji* Yes, you read that correctly, $20 to park your car and watch fireworks. Directly across the street from our house is a new park that has a huge hill with hiking trails that has only been open for less than a year. We decided we would hike up the hill and watch from there. As we headed out, we noticed several people from our neighborhood walking in that direction. W, our 4 year old, was super pumped to see the show so I was hoping that the small herd of neighbors walking in the same direction as we were meant that you could see the show from the park. Once in the park, I noticed several women sitting in lawn chairs at the bottom of the hill. I know I have sort of painted the picture of Californians to be cold, and my experience with most have been, but they can’t all be that way. I decided to ask these women a question that had been on my mind. Me: “Excuse me. Have you ever watched the fireworks from here before?” Woman 1: “Well, no. We were hoping that you could see the show from here, but we have no idea if we will be able to.” Me: “Ha! I was thinking that since there are so many people coming this way it must mean you can see the show. I guess we will find out if this is the place we will be watching next year.” Woman 2: “I’m hoping we can see them from here. I certainly do not want to pay $20 for parking next year.” Me: “I know! I’m so glad I’m not the only one who was put out by this!” Woman 2: “Well, here’s to next year!” As she raises her soda for a cheer. As I walked up the hill I was bursting with happiness! I just had a conversation with a Californian and they were not cold, they were not rude, they were human! Along the way up the hill my friend points out holes in the ground and asks what animals made them. I told him, without hesitation, that moles made them knowing very well that they were too small for a mole. My friend looks at me and says, “I don’t think so, Kate. I’m pretty sure they are more likely snakes.” “Oh, no, those are not snake holes. I know this because snakes can’t survive in California.” I have been telling myself this since before we even moved to California. You see, I have a paralyzing fear of snakes. Florida, of course is the Devil’s playground since it full of these evil serpents that are thriving. Thanks, Hurricane Charlie. It is because of these spineless critters that I quit going for early morning runs. You see, the snakes would coil up or spread out on the sidewalks or roads for warmth. There were several runs during which I’m sure my neighbors thought someone was being attached. Really, it was just my seeing a snake or having to leap over one mid-stride. Here I am climbing a huge hill with long brown grass growing and holes. Mole holes, that is! Our hole conversation continued up to the top of the hill where we met up with David, W, and Mrs. M. Mrs. M tried to explain what animal, whose name we will no longer mention since I know it is a false statement because they do not exist in the state of California, made those holes. I feel if one can make himself believe anything, even if down deep they know it is not true. I am living in that world. I read a headline the other day “Snake bite season is here”! *again insert wide eyed emoji* I do not know who the editor of this newspaper is, but I cannot believe that he still has a job when he missed such a glaring error! We all know that mole bite season his here. I say all this to let those Midwest citizens who are looking to move to California to not worry. California and the Midwest have this in common: No snakes!

The Song of My People

I love music. Music can take you away to so many places without you leaving your seat. It can change an attitude, express a feeling, and even define who you are or want to be that day. I grew up in a somewhat conservative house. We did not get cable until mid to late 1990s. Until that time we still had the television where you had 13 channels and only channels 6,8, and 13 worked, you had to turn a knob to switch channels, and the power button you pulled out to turn on and pushed it back in to turn it off. If I wanted to watch television I went to my friends house. Once we had gotten cable there were very strict rules about when I could watch it. As a parent now, I totally get it. I was not top of my class and was notorious for waiting until the last minute to study or complete a project. If I was found watching television the conversation went a little something like this. Q1:“Katherine, is you homework done?” If answer was “No”, which it was 99.9% of the time, continue to Q2. If the answer was “Yes” because it was summer, skip to Q3. Q2: “Katherine, do you have a or project this week…or next?” If the answer was “Yes” continue to Q3. If answer was “No” continue to Q3. Q3: “Katherine, is your room clean?” If the answer was “No” continue to Q4. If answer was “Yes” continue to Q4. Q4: “Katherine, is it a week night?” Disclaimer: Sheltered is another word for my upbringing. Seriously, do not get me wrong. I would not change a thing about how I was raised and had a very good life. Music was another odd-ball in my childhood. I did not listen to the radio until I was in middle school. It wasn’t until then that I discovered music, really. I was surrounded by hymns and very conservative church music. Middle school I discovered radio. Dancing? Forget it! I knew that dancing was, “A vertical display of a horizontal desire.” I am Steve Martin from The Jerk, not familiar with the movie try Elaine from Seinfeld. I cannot dance, but sometimes, music moves my body. I cannot clap on beat or predict when the music will “drop”, but I still love it. I would take a cassette recorder, flip it upside down, and place on my alarm clock radio so I could record my favorite songs as they played on the radio. The early pirating. Timing was everything! Steve Lindell from WLBC seemed to always cut into the last part of the song, so you had to time it perfectly meaning you wouldn’t always get the last few cords, but you had the meat and potatoes of the song. My friend knew every song ever written. She knew all the words. It did not matter the genre of the song, she still knew all the word! She also had an amazing CD collection. She would let me play DJ in her car, my car did not have a CD player so we would take hers, and I would shuffle through usually playing the same songs I always played. She introduced me to everything from pop music to country. I started dating a guy, my now husband, who did not have the same up bringing as myself. He knew none of the songs I knew and I knew none of the songs he knew. I hated his music. Now, almost 13 years later of having to listen to it, I like it. I feel over my years I have a fair grasp on all different genres of music. I taught middle school for several years and they kept me on my “musical” toes. I had to keep up. The moment you lose touch with music, you’ve lost touch with many of your students on some level. The other day I went into Old Navy. As I waited in line to buy my clearance jeans I listened to the song the store was playing. I thought, “Where do they find this music? Seriously, do they look for songs that no one knows to make themselves seem more elite?” That’s when I heard it. It was all around me. The two teenagers in front of me were singing. They knew every single, stupid word! The two teenagers who I’ve had to listen to flirt with each other badly for the past 7 minutes are singing too. They know every word to this song and the next! *insert wide eyed emoji* What is happening? How did this happen? How does everyone else know the lyrics to these weird songs and I have never heard of them? It was then I had the answer! I wasn’t out of touch! I was in California! They of course get all the new music before the rest of the county, duh.

The Childcare Search

A two liter bottle filled with water upside down with a wide straw coming out of the cap, a large bowl of Cheetos, maybe a few Disney movies, a closet, and an outside lock on the closet is apparently frowned upon in the state of California as a source of daycare for my four year old and four month old. Do to this discovery, I have started my search for real daycare since I start my new job in a month. Back “home” I was paying $500 a month for my oldest son to go to school that had a curriculum. By the time we left, my then newly four year old was working on a Kindergarten level. We thought this price we really pricey, but knew he was getting an education as well. Here, in California, I’m not sure how people survive if they have more than one child. No lie, for both boys to go to daycare the lowest price was $2,000 a month! *insert wide eyed emoji* People, this is for childcare without a curriculum! I tried all the reputable sites. It was time to go back to my roots. I checked Craigslist.com. W’s first daycare provider, which was like hitting the jackpot, was technically on Craigslist, but I heard of her through word of mouth. There are so many daycare providers on craigslist. Many of whom identified their race within the tag line. “Indian provider”, “Bilingual Nana”, many Asian providers, and one “Elderly Woman”. The last one got me. Was she going for the whole Mrs. Doubtfire thing or just putting out there that she was looking for a nice rocker to complete her knitting while your children jumped from counters and held real jousting tournaments with knives in your living room while Mamaw was getting a head start on her knitted Christmas gifts. I went to one that was advertised as a Montessori daycare with “complementary curriculum”. I have many friends who children go to a Montessori school and have nothing but amazing things to say. Mrs. R was amazing. She had a fulltime helper and was able to have up to 14 kids at a time, which apparently not all who have 14 children have to have a full time provider. Yuck! I cannot imagine leaving my 4 month old in a house with 13 other children and one adult. Um, no. Though Mrs. R was super nice and affordable, there were two rooms the children could be in. A very small part of the kitchen and the living room which was, again, small. There was actually a leg missing from the yellow pleather sofa that had been replaced with yellow painted blocks of wood. The cleanliness was not next to Godliness in the play area. It was not disgusting it was jus noticeable that dirty little hands had been discovering things. I am not the best house keeper, so I get it. However, I also do not have 14 kids in my care every day. The thing that truly stuck out to me the most as worry was the temperature of the house. We keep our house at a steamy 70* at night as we sleep so my family has a need for cool air. This house had me looking for tiny sewing machines or production lines. I went a head the next day and called Mamaw aka “Elderly Woman” aka “Mrs. Doubtfire”. She had advertised as doing light house cleaning and cooking as well as fulltime childcare. I called her, as she of course did not email, to talk with her. She answered in a way that let me know that she was frustrated with something. “Hi, I saw your ad on Craigslist about childcare. I have a 4 month and 4 year old I am look for care for.” “Oh, what are your dates and times? Get over here!” “Uh, I guess it would be considered full time. Five days a week, full days. You wouldn’t need to do any cooking or cleaning as that is why we had children.” Silence “I’m just kidding. Sorry.” “That is too much time. No. I’m not interested.” Hangs up the phone. I didn’t know whether to be offended or laugh at myself for even calling her! What did I expect? Really? I called a provider today. My expectations were super low. She was amazing! We ended up talking on the phone for close to 20 minutes while she helped the little ones around her. She used a calm voice and all the kids responded well. I told her we were new to California and she explained that she had moved years ago from Virginia to California and knew exactly how I felt. She gave me a list of things to go and see this weekend. I have an interview with her tomorrow. I am hoping it goes better than my conversation with Mamaw, as well as with Mrs. R but with better air cirulation, and as well as the two interview I did with W’s first two providers Mrs. Sharon and Mimi. Fingers Crossed!

That Neighborly Thing

Growing up in the Midwest, summer and fall are the most amazing seasons. The summers are usually not too oppressively hot and if it was an extremely hot day you simply get your friends together and go to the public pool in your county, unless of course, you were members of a pool club then you just go there. Your best friends are your neighbors whose parents come over for dinner regularly and your neighborhood has odd traditions from lighting a tree in the middle of the neighborhood at Christmas, parades, picnics, Halloween costume contests, to late night hide and seek. You are probably thinking, “This only happens in the movies.” Where do you think they got the idea from, people? That’s right, Midwest living. Living in a California world I am learning that more Californians keep to themselves either to not offend, gain competition, or just simply don’t want to take the time to get to know you. Our poor neighbors. We moved in and the neighborhood is going to pot. We say “Hello” every time we see a neighbor, remember crazy details like their health, help them when their hands are full, and even smile at them. That’s right, we smile at neighbors and strangers. We even invite them over for either dinner or cocktails sometimes both! In a hand basket, that’s how we’re getting there! I have mentioned the Miyagis before. They are our neighbors directly behind us. They have come over to our house several times for dinner or drinks and we have thoroughly enjoyed their company. Mr. M is the mayor or our neighborhood. He knows everyone and will walk them to our back porch just to introduce us. The first time he returned a plate to our house, he did not return it empty. It had limes on it. I was thrilled! I thought only people in the Midwest did that! Over the course of time the returns would differ. We’d get flowers, limes, homemade Asian food, a major jar of artichoke hearts, and even a bag of stuffing. Last night Mr. M came over and asked if we had any yogurt. Again, thrilled! It was like asking for a cup of sugar! He then explained that Mrs. M had gotten food poisoning. David quickly said that he was headed to the store and would pick up some Gatorade for Mrs. M, which he did. When David got back from the store Mr. M was just outside. David asked what he was doing for dinner and if he’d like to join us. Mr. M was excited and said he’d be right over. About 7 minutes later, Mr. M comes in with a huge vase in the shape of a martini glass. He had cut some of his roses and made a beautiful floating floral arrangement as a thank you. He made a plate to take back to his house, as to not leave his wife alone for too long. Ten minutes later he returned! He wanted to know if we had any leftovers and if so, could he have them for tomorrow’s lunch? We laughed and said, “Absolutely!” I helped him make a to-go container and fill it up. Tonight Mr. M came back over with the plate. Have you ever had one of those moments where you have to ignore a situation or actually dig deep for self-control? I had a moment like that when I accepted the plate back from him. It did not have limes, as I had hoped as we were having Mexican beers with dinner. Instead, it had two very small apples, two fruit cups, two pieces of Asian hard candy, a box of plastic fours, and a box of staples. Yes, staples. *insert wide eyed emoji*I held it together and showed so much gratitude it made my performances as I opened gifts at Christmas at the grandparents look like a roll in an elementary play. As soon as he left, I had a wonderful giggle. I giggle because of the randomness of the gifts, the sweetness of the gesture, the thoughtfulness of his action, and the feeling of “home” it gave me. I can honestly say that I love my neighbors and love the friendship that is budding. I can, also, say that I am so looking forward to sending him home with another plate of food just to see what I get in return the next time!