As we were watching the Broncos get slaughtered (go Pats!) and working (a usual Saturday night), we suddenly heard the loud crack of shattering glass. After realizing it wasn’t a cat being an idiot, we gingerly walked around the house, trying to find the source of the sound.

The inner pane of our double-paned bathroom window had shattered completely, with a fine mist of glass coming through the screen onto the floor. We walked around outside (I was positive something hit the house), but the outer window was perfectly fine. So yeah, that’s fun. Tomorrow will now involve attempting to catch shattered glass in a box, while standing on a ladder, in 20 degree weather, while the other one tries to prevent it from falling inside.

My friend J now thinks our house is possessed, and frankly, she’s probably right. A flood, a pipe leak and now a randomly exploded window – seriously?

One positive.. we finally took the tree down – the Peanut enjoyed the lights.

I’m trying the Chop’s sister’s pulled pork recipe for the first time… it called for a slow cooker and I’m employing an oven, so we’ll see how that works. I’m hopeful, with a side of wait-and-see. The Chop was instructed to bring home rolls and dill pickle slices from the store and instead he brought home rolls and hot & spicy pickle & pepper slices. WTH? He hates pickles anyway, so it’s not like he’s going to eat them… his thought process? Those pickles you liked when my sister made them were spicy. No they weren’t, they were Bubbies. Sigh.

Which I can’t find around here, so that makes me sad.

In other news, we’ve had crazy wind today and one of our trees broke in half and landed in the street. I’m a little concerned that we’ll get home after game night tonight and find a tree through our living room. The Chop assures me this won’t be the case, but seeing as how he isn’t an engineer or in any way interested in the outside, his opinion doesn’t hold much weight in this arena. 😛

Today the Peanut removed his diaper (his poopy diaper) while standing in the kitchen.

It is entirely possible we are now screwed.

The Peanut had his 15 month well visit today, and after we found out he’s still growing like a weed (1.5 inches in three months), the nurse stabbed him three times for his vaccinations.

There is literally nothing more depressing than watching your child scream and sob in shock and pain. It’s traumatizing for both of us.

In even! better! news I got the estimate for my car… My sad, pathetic skills are going to cost me 1000 bucks to fix. Fail.

I believe I’ve maybe slept 16 hours in four days. I am beyond exhausted and have slipped into crazy manic person mode. Which means I’m a) completely bonkers and b) incapable of driving a moving vehicle.

Hence the shredded tire and scratched wheel well that now adorn my car. Apparently trying to back out a long vehicle (Flex), in the dark, when it is full to the brim with people is not in the manic person’s skill set.

It’s all very sad for me, but fortunately this guy was adorable enough to make me feel better.

We picked up my sister and her boyfriend at the airport today (they’re in town to also help my parents find a house), then headed to lunch at Sweet Cheeks BBQ near Fenway. It was awesome – and we were all so full that dinner didn’t occur until 10PM. And it was the leftovers, lol.

On the way home we encountered a pack of wild turkeys, one of whom decided that crossing the road in front of me seemed like a great plan. Fortunately I had a side seat driver and a back seat driver! 😛 (It did help though, as seconds before it appeared, I got something stuck in my eye and didn’t see them coming.)

I get to drive us five hours north tomorrow. Whee!

Without Steve Jobs, I would not have my current job.

I wouldn’t have started a blog; I wouldn’t be typing on this MacBook Pro. I wouldn’t have met my husband, who wouldn’t have been able to move here and work remotely.

I wouldn’t be able to work from home, spending part of my day being entertained by my son. I wouldn’t be able to use an iPad to Skype his Grammy whenever he wants or to watch Yo Gabba Gabba! in the car on long rides.

I am only one of many whose lives have been changed because of Steve Jobs.

The Jobs Effect. RIP.

We maintain websites at several locations, but we tend to suggest one particular server company… and right now they are down due to a nameserver issue. I’ve received 5 panicked phone calls from different clients… and multiple emails… but sadly, there is nothing I can do. So I sit and wait, constantly refreshing the “information update” page, following the company’s tweets, wondering just how bad this day is going to be.

Earlier I noticed someone was having a birthday on Facebook… so I went to post on their wall, and I was unable to see it. Did they do that on purpose? I don’t believe she likes me very much… we went to college together, but since then our lives have taken very different roads. I’ve often wondered if she’s just mad I parlayed my degree into running my own business and doing pretty well at it. She comments occasionally on pictures of the ‘Nut, and says she wants to meet him, but never goes farther than that (ie, actually meeting him).

Our honeymoon ended up being awesome, even though we missed the Peanut terribly. Italy was amazing – we really loved Pompeii, Venice and Florence. The food in Florence… wowza. I would move there for that alone, lol. Venice, we loved the atmosphere, but didn’t particularly love the food (very fishy-tasting seafood). Rome was hectic, but we stayed off the beaten trail and had wonderful cappuccinos and food (cheaper than being in the center of Rome) every day.

Now we’re back home with the Peanut, who’s growing way too fast. He’s starting to crawl(ish) backward, is crazy vocal and loves almost all the food he gets (peas = not so much). My parents loved being here while we were gone, and I’m pretty sure my mom would move here in a heartbeat, if she could only convince my dad.

Present from his Texan grandfather

In two days the Chop and I leave for our belated honeymoon to Italy. We had pushed it off last year due to my being sick during the pregnancy, but unfortunately could only reschedule the tickets for a year out.

So here we are with an almost-six-month-old, preparing to leave him with my parents and travel to Italy for two weeks. For weeks now I’ve been stressing this. Parenthood most definitely makes you nervous and highly concerned about leaving your child and going to a foreign country. I know he’ll be fine, but will we be fine? Four airplanes, two weeks traveling from Rome to Venice to Florence, bereft of the munchkin who has occupied our time for a year?

We of course looked into postponing… or having our tickets put into someone else’s name (boo British Airways for not being accommodating to an insane new mom’s needs!), but we’re starting to come around. I got excited for the first time today, talking to the woman from whome we are renting an apartment in Rome. We’re going to Rome! We will eat hot pastry and fresh coffee at the local cafe, explore the city on foot, drink wine at the outdoor cafes and enjoy ourselves.

While my parents come to our house and watch their grandbaby. They are beside themselves with excitement. It’s a good thing I never got his passport, because if I did, I’d probably take him and they’d be crushed.

But really, could you leave this face?

It’s probably bad that I’m blogging while pissed off, but I’ve decided this is a better way to vent my frustration than yelling more. So here goes.

When we were home for Christmas, we had a big storm. Concerned that the guy who was taking care of our cats wouldn’t be able to get in our driveway, we called our contractor from last summer and asked if he had a plow guy he could recommend. He did… he called the guy, called us back, let us know it’d be $50 and we said OK.

Fast forward to us coming home. It was plowed, no worries there. We called to see how to pay. Our contractor gave us his number… we called twice, left messages, never heard back. We called our contractor back, he gave us a general idea of where he lived. We finally found the guy in the phone book and sent him a check.

Fast forward to the next storm.. someone plowed. We said, wth? We called our contractor (having NEVER heard from the other guy), and he said, oh he probably just saw it needed to be done. We said, do we have to pay, because we didn’t arrange anything. He said, No.

Fast forward to the next storm.. someone plowed. We said, wth? Whatever. We never heard from the guy – is he really doing this to be nice?

Fast forward to last week, when we decided that we needed to excavate the Chop’s car. We finally got ahold of the guy (shocking) and he said he didn’t do that. We found someone else, and made an agreement with them for that and plowing.

Fast forward to today, when the first guy said he was sending us a bill for $300.

Yeah. I called him back and said, basically, no you aren’t. We never had an agreement, you never called us back, we didn’t want you to plow. Cue 20 minutes of back and forth wherein it was insinuated that I am a) a bad person and b) a bad neighbor. I said I’d pay him what I think is fair – maybe $100 – but definitely not $300. This guy thinks I’m a raging bitch, I’m sure, but frankly, you don’t do something without asking and then charge for it. THAT IS NOT HOW BUSINESS WORKS. I mentioned this multiple times.

Me: If I just did work for you and then sent you a bill, you’d be totally fine with that? Without me saying, hey, I’ll do this and this is how much it costs first?

Him: Yeah, that’s the neighborly thing to do. I just had tshirts made and we agreed on $600 and it was $1200 and I paid it.

Me: YOU HAD AN AGREEMENT IN THE FIRST PLACE.

So, the few people who still look at this thing ’cause I never blog, what would YOU do?

Update: So he dropped off the bill (we hid in the nursery) and looking at it, he charges more for more snow, he only came 7 times and I am more pissed than I was before!

Second Update: We talked to our contractor who said, “Yeah, we’re on the same page… it seems like he’s reading from a totally different book.” As in, yeah, he wasn’t supposed to keep plowing and I don’t know why he did without telling you the fees.