Being Greeted.

My local Walmart has two greeters.  They both work the same door (the grocery side) at different times.  They are not good at their job.  First, I can't figure out why Walmart has greeters.  Am I the only one who is uncomfortable around them?  I never know if I should make eye contact.  Does that initiate a "stop and chat?"  They are wearing a name tag.  Should I introduce myself?  Part of my goals from my birthday.... yeah... I set my goals from my birthday.  It's more my year that way.  Part of my goals was to be more open and friendly.  Walmart greeters should be good practice.
One guy, I'll call him Larry.  Is super tall.  I mean, taller than my Dad.  He's probably in his late 70s early 80s.  And for the first...oh I don't know... 45 times I went in and he was there...I nodded at him or said hello or waved.... he PURPOSELY looked at something else.  Um.  Hi.  Your job is to greet ME.  Not the other way around.  I'm stepping out of my comfort zone here can I at least get an eyebrow raise and a half nod my way?  It'd help.  So, this one time I went in... I waved and said, "Hey, Larry!"  and if wasn't all candied pecans and jello jigglers after that.  Now he sees me coming and pulls a cart out for me.  Asks how the little ones are doing.  Asks what I'm running in for.  Sometimes he touches my shoulder.  Eh.  That's a little too much.  Kinda get a little cringe-y there.  But I cracked him.  But it makes me wonder about all the other people who head into Walmart and instead of feeling welcomed by Larry... run past because they haven't broken that barrier yet.
The other guy... we'll call him Mike.  He's impossible.  First.  He's in a wheelchair.  So.  That's awkward for me.  Probably because I can walk and he's always pissed off.  If he looks at you he is scowling.  And, deep down, I've always figured people in wheelchairs really hate people not in wheelchairs even if they put on the whole "Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow" facade.  But this guy, is open about it.  I've tried smiling at him a few times.  Not a good move.  I think he wanted to charge me with his wheelchair.  I mean to him, maybe he is thinking, like, "She's just smiling at me because I'm in a wheelchair and she's trying to make me feel better.  Like a smile can somehow make me walk again."  When really... I'm just doing it because One, I'm scared of him.  Two, It was a goal of mine.  And Three, don't we all try to go out of our way for the disabled?  It would be really cool if Walmart hired a handicapped person and they were really outgoing and fun and said hi to everyone.  I think it would break down some real social barriers.  But to hire a scrooge?  In a wheelchair? (Which I am not against or prejudice towards.... at all... I just think he is going to use his hellacious set of wheels as a weapon.)When I already don't know what to say or how to act or where to look?
What were they thinking?

Toddler OCD

I think Koley has Toddler OCD which could be made up but is probably valid.
He is way too into routine.  Some people (Ken) might blame me for that because I love a good schedule.  But Kole takes it to a different level.
For instance, I've been wedging a baby blanket into his door at night.  This way he can pull and pull on the door but he can't get it open.  (Ha HA!  I didn't even have to spend a buck on those handle covers!  HA!) I don't think Kole ever really knew it's purpose was to seal him into his room at night but now, after all the bed time things have been done (bath with the yellow soap not the blue soap, dry off with the dragon towel not the stripe towel, fresh diaper before we brush his teeth with the blue toothbrush not the yellow one, Thomas the Tank Engine pants on along with the Lightning McQueen shirt, say a prayer... DAD says it, Special Talk, smooch this stuffed monkey, then Kole, THEN that monkey!)...When all that is done and I'm thinking "I nailed it.  No tears tonight."  Kole goes into hysterics.  I scream in my head and then calmly, with a smile, ask Kole, "What is it man?" 
"Put the blanket in the door."
Gladly.
And maybe it is just his age but he asks me ten stinking bazillion questions a day.  Most of them are repeated over and over no matter how many times I give the right answer.
Where's Dad going, Mom?  Dad's going to work.
Where's Dad going, Mom?  To work.
Where's Dad going, Mom?  He's headed to work.  He'll be back tonight.
Where's Dad going, Mom?  Oh, he's going to work.
Where's Dad going, Mom?  To work.
Where's Dad going, Mom?  To work.

I've realized if I give the wrong answer Kole snaps back.
Where's Dad going, Mom?  Dad is going to ShhhBooms.
No.  Dad's going to work?  Yeah, Kole.  Dad's going to work.

Where you going Mom?  To the bathroom.
Where you going Mom?  To the bathroom. 
Where you going Mom?  To the bathroom, Kole.
Where you going Mom?  I'm going to the bathroom. 
Where you going Mom?  Right over here.  To the bathroom.

You're going to the bathroom?  Uh huh.  I'm shutting the door now. Bye.

Once he gets bored of asking where me and Ken are or are going he starts asking about relatives.  But he normally gives me what he thinks the answer will be in question form.

Where's Granny?  Granny at her house? Yup!  Granny's at her house.(Repeat.)
Where's Big Grandpa? Big Grandpa in the hot tub? He might be in the hot tub, yeah. (Repeat several hundred times.)
Where's Greta?  Greta in the hospital? She was only there one day.  She's at her house now.(Repeat until you lose your voice.)
Where's PopPop?  On a hike? He's probably at work today.  (Repeat until your head explodes.)
Where's Gramma Ginger?  With Big Grandpa? No, she's teaching school today. (Repeat x Infinity)

Perhaps he just really loves his family and this is how he expresses that.
I'd rather he drew cards for them.

Once we've climbed the family tree Kole picks anything in the house, even things he already knows the name of and starts in.
What's this called, Mom? A pineapple.
A Pineapple?  Yeah.
What's this called, Mom? A pineapple, silly.
A Pineapple?  Yeah.
What's this called, Mom? That's a pineapple.
A Pineapple?  Yeah.
What's this called, Mom? A pineapple.
A Pineapple?  Yeah.

When I get sick of answering again I say, "I don't know, Kole, what IS that called?"
Sometimes his answers are right and sometimes.... I don't know.
Like the pineapple one.  I had just told him 300 times that it was called a pineapple.  Then,  I asked him what it was and he smiled really big and said, "CORNAPPLE!"

I don't even know what that is.

As If Waiting For Christmas Wasn't Hard Enough

According to my Christmas Countdown App... hold it right there.... you don't have one?  You know they're free right?  And 2 year olds la-hove them.  At least my Christmas-obsessed two year old does.  Every morning while we're eating breakfast Kole says, "It's Cwismas today!"  And I say, "It is?  We haven't even put the tree up!  Oh rats!"  And he laughs and laughs and then asks for hot chocolate.  I tell him no way jose and he starts in again with "But... It's Cwismas today."

(Side note:  I say 'No Way Jose' a lot to Kole.  He tries to repeat it in similar situations but always leaves out the "way."  So it sounds like he's just always angry at our gardener.  "No Jose!  No Jose!")

According to my Christmas Countdown App there are 97 days until Christmas.  I'm dyyyyyying!  I can't take it anymore!  I wish Christmas were here today.  But even more than I want December 25th to be here....

.... I want October 13th to be here!
Because (I think it's my brother in laws birthday) WE'RE MOVING!

To a house.
Ahhhhhhhh.  Exhale.
We've been in our townhouse for 1 year 1 month and 29 days.
It has served it's purpose.  But with the arrival of Josie (<---- I call Joey Josie sometimes.  I think it's okay since he is a baby.) our place seems so much smaller.  I think it's the crying.  The crying that fills the entire house.  Every hour and a half.  All night long.  Which is friggin' bizarre because during the day he is Mr. Sunshine and at night he is El Diablo.
I'd been begging Ken to move into one of the 3 bedroom apartments here.  That way it will be really super easy to let Joey cry it out. Oh, yeah.  I let my babies cry it out.  I'm heartless, cruel, and callous.  Ken didn't see how having an extra room would make that much of a difference (really?) but our rent went up.  WAH WAH!  And I happen to be cruising the local papes and found a gem of a house right in our price range.

It wasn't a hard sell:

I mean let's compare here...

Current Back Yard

Oh wait... let me give you a better angle... to make it look bigger.

Hmph.  No use.  Oh well.

Here's the future back yard:

Hello!  Come to mama!

 A few things I'd like to point out.  1.) There's grass.  Like enough for us to have a picnic on.  2.)  Those trees!  Look how big they are!  3.)  Is that a patio I see?  Are those burgers grilling I smell?  I hope someones bringing potato salad cuz we're having a cook out!

Here is the front yard where we live now:

Front yard fail. 
We are lucky we have the handicap spot in front of us so no one can park their junky car there.

Here's the front yard where we are moving:

Run Koley!  Enjoy the freedom of not having to dodge cars!
Run with wreck-less abandon, my son!
(Did you get the pun there?  Clever girl, that Patty.)

It's a great house.  (And for only $25 more than we'd be paying in rent here.)  I am obviously most excited about the yard.  And the land.  Oh, my dear.  Had I forgot to mention?  It sits on 2 acres.  Totally ours.

It's unbelievable.  I'm beyond excited.  Beyond grateful.

Now.  In fairness to Ken.  He picked the townhouse where we live now.  There are things I will miss.  The island in the kitchen.  The cute cubbie under the stairs we turned into a playroom for Kole.  The... the... Hmmm.  I won't miss the weird smell the downstairs bathroom always resonates.  Or the rotten kids playing di-RECTly outside my window.  Or the multiple daily walks to the dumpster.
But this place had some wonderful memories.

Kole and Ken became inseparable.

 

Kole learned to walk here.

...and eat on his own.

He got his first hair cut here. 

Kole switched to a big bed.
Okay... that wasn't the happiest memory.
But it's better now.

I got pregnant with Joey.

And this is where we brought him home...

...To be a family.

But don't think for one second that all that sentimentality is going to stop me from leaving this place in the dust.  Well.  Literally spotless... so we get our deposit back... but metaphorically... in the dust.