Shoes and Shocks

For a long time, I couldn't figure it out. Every time I would send Alexis to school sporting a new pair of shoes, she would return home with them completely ruined. I knew the black rubber mulch was responsible for the dirt and grime, but I didn't understand the wear. Lots of wear.

Then one day, I got my answer. As I stood peering through the kitchen window, I watched my baby girl grow up right before my eyes. She sat on her swing, stuck out her legs, pulled the chains with her arms, and pumped her way up high. Back and forth she swung without a single person assisting her. When she was done, she pointed her little toes down at the ground and scraped the fronts of her shoes to stop.

All. by. herself.

She's growing up right before our eyes.

So, it should have come as no surprise when Alexis started trying to give up her daily nap. I don't really understand why kids can't learn to appreciate that which I covet, but whatever. She doesn't want to nap. That's all there is to it.

On the weekends, it's no big thing. Weekdays, however, are a whole other issue. You see, while she may be convinced she's done with naps, SHE'S NOT READY TO BE DONE. Not. at. all. I don't know how she's managing to stay awake during her school's designated nap hour, but I suspect it involves whispering, peer pressure, and a couple of super cute accomplices. Even that doesn't really bother me. It's what happens when I pick her up from school that is the problem.

She falls asleep.

In the car.

At 6:30pm.

Every day.

Those four sentences thrown together into a giant pot and cooked up over a low flame are the exact recipe for disaster. We can't let her finish out the nap because then she can't fall asleep at bedtime. We can't wake her up because OMG! THE MONSTER! Never wake a sleeping child. Someone WILL get hurt.

I'm going to stop buying the kid new shoes and instead save my money for a new car seat. It's going to be a car seat equipped with an electrical system that allows me to shock the kid if she tries to fall asleep in the car.

Bzzzzzt.

I'm Disappointed in Me

Houston, we have a problem.

It's less than three weeks until Christmas and so far no one is going to mistake our house for La Casa de los Griswolds. While I would like to have more lights than an airport runway lining every angle, corner, and wall, I don't.

Not even close.

The first problem that came up was that HOLY SMOKES THIS HOUSE IS BIG. I mean, we knew we were upgrading in July when we moved from less than 1000 square feet of living space to over 3000 square feet, but I didn't really ponder how the hilly yard and exposed foundation would factor into Christmas lovelies. The roof? Is high. Very high. The really tall ladder we bought several years ago specifically for getting on top of roofs? Not really tall enough. Not even close, in fact.

Not having a ladder tall enough to get on the roof led to more than a few conversations between me and Santa. I told Santa all I wanted for Christmas was a 40-foot tall ladder. Santa glared at me. I repeated my every dream and desire. Santa pointed out that ridiculously tall ladders cost a lot of money.

Santa is no fun.

Perhaps the worst part of the Great Ladder Debate of 2009 is that Santa is right. Once we get a deck built, the ladder we have will be big enough. I could override Santa and go get myself a ladder so I could have pretty icicle lights this year, but that would mean I would have to wait even longer to have a deck. Stupid Santa and his valid points.

The other issue that is driving me nuts is that whoever ran the electrical wiring for this house clearly didn't understand the importance of dedicated plugs on house exteriors. It took a few days to figure it out, but it turns out that every exterior plug and light to this house is on the same circuit. Along with the water heater.

I'm pretty tolerant of cold, but not when it comes to showers. The very first time I had to take a cold shower because the lights and water heater running together had tripped the circuit, I knew we were in a lot of trouble. It would be simple, but it turns out that electrician-type people actually expect you to pay them money to rewire a bunch of plugs.

Electricians are no fun.

So, here I sit in a house with some Christmas lights, but not nearly enough. There are boxes and boxes of unused lights in the basement, but unless the Electrical Fairy pays us a free visit tonight, they won't be getting put up.

I'm sad.

To brighten my dark little Griswold heart, I need places in and around Pittsburgh to go look at lights. I asked twitter and it suggested:

Overly's
Hartwood Acres
Oglebay
Steel City Christmas (Beryl Drive, Pittsburgh)
The houses off of Old Lebanon Church Road in West Mifflin (near the intersection of Routes 51 and 885)
Christmas Light-Up (Findlay Township)
Morningside (above the zoo)
Bob's Garage (Aspinwall)
Cloverleaf (Collier)
Santaland (Venetia)
Ingram Avenue (around corner from Sharp Edge)
House on 286 in Holiday Park

(The house on Seibert near McKnight doesn't have the lights on so far this year and probably won't have them. Lots of drama going on there.)

If you've got more or details about any of the above, dish it out.

Oh, and Mr. Husband, you're driving to all these places this weekend. That's what you get for depriving me of my rooftop icicle lights. :-D

Thanks to the following people for their mastery of Pittsburgh Christmas light extravaganzas: ciaobella, hellohahanarf, aPSUmama, ChickLitLisa, sheepthemoon, avisualtinkle, tehamy, GoBobbo, mattieflap, and everybody else who I'm forgetting because I forgot to star them all.

P.S.

I'm doing this again this year. If you see some Christmas Crazy anywhere, take a pic and post it on or by 12/20 (Mr. Linky will go up on 12/20). If you don't have a blog, you can email the pics to me at burghbaby (at) gmail.com and I'll happily post them. Thanks!

A Hypothetical Warning of Sorts

If your husband decides he needs to see the Steelers choke on their season live and in person, leaving you alone with a small child, the small child will eventually turn to you and say, "You're smelly. Take a shower."

After you do the pit sniff thing and realize that the small child may have a point, you will decide to head upstairs. Before you go, you might ask the small child what she's going to do while you take a shower. If she reports, "I going to sit here and relax," BEWARE.

It's a trap.

Just as you manage to fully emerge yourself in sudsy bubbles, the shower curtain will burst open as the small child yells, "I has something important to tell you!" Your eyes will fly open, soap will immediately flood your eyeballs, your arms will flail causing bottles to go flying, shampoo will shoot out of the flying bottles and wind up on the ceiling, you'll smack your head on the shower wall as you try to rinse the soap from your eyes, and the dogs will start barking at all of the commotion.

As you stand there naked, blind, cold, and rocking a wondrous new headache, you will finally regain your composure long enough to ask the small child what she needs to tell you.

"I have brown hair just like Belle!" she will excitedly report.

Not that I would know anything about all of that.

Ahem.