My Freezer Challenge: Days 25 and 26 (Saturday and Sunday)
Saturday morning I had a baby shower to attend for a sweet, sweet friend. She's due in August (poor girl) to have her second baby. This shower wasn't like any other, though. When I tell you the "theme" you're going to laugh...you're going to laugh because no other shower could possibly have my name written all over it like this one did.
It was.
A.
FOOD SHOWER.
Seriously, no kidding, I'm not lying. The idea was to bring ready-to-freeze or already frozen meals for the family to be able to heat up and eat during the first few days and weeks of bringing the baby home. Awesome idea, right? Let me tell you, I might be throwing some of these for my friends in the future. Our church has a ministry called "Labor of Love" that also provides meals for the first week and I cannot tell you how much of a blessing it was to not have to worry about preparing food. When you're bleary eyed from so sleep, freaking out because you're not sure if you're doing anything right, and sore from...well, you know...food is the last thing on your mind, but definitely a show-must-go-on type item. So...food shower...write that down.
Another wonderful friend of mine came by and picked me and Baby L up and we arrived at the shower. It was beautiful. They had it at Willows, a tea room here in town. Fun people, fun stuff, and fun times. I can't wait to meet the new baby. Oh, and what did I bring, you're probably wondering? Baked Ziti! See, it just so happened that I had a whole casserole dish of Baked Ziti that we hadn't even broken into (from the Wednesday night small group). I cut it up in halves and put it in plastic containers and popped it in the freezer. They can probably make two meals out of it...seriously, word from the wise: Don't double that recipe.
On the way home from the shower I was telling my friend (who has a mini van) how much I want a mini van but that there's nothing wrong with my car, I LOVE my car (except for juggling the car seat with the doors), and it's paid for (they drive a lot smoother when they're paid for, FYI). We get home, she drops me off, and I go in and start feeding the baby. Then Ryan calls. It seems that I (surprise surprise) didn't answer my cell phone (because it was turned off...because I forgot to charge it...surprise surprise) and he's been trying to call me to come over to his grandmother's house so his aunt (who's in town) can meet the baby. Oops. I totally forgot all about this. I finish feeding L, get him buckled up, and head outside. To find the window down in my car.
Hmmmm......
I distinctly remember checking to make sure that the car was locked (because I forget to do that, too sometimes) and don't remember rolling down the window...much less leaving it down. Crap. I know what this means before I even reach inside to unlock the door ('Cause honestly, what's the point? The window is down. Surely I'm not going to hit the button on my key chain.)
See, I used to have a Honda Accord before I bought my Element. it had some years on it and the window was constantly rattling. It had something to do with the window not staying completely on the track and no matter how many times it would be realigned, it would always fall off and continue to rattle. My mom also had this problem with her Camry years ago. For a while we had a clothespin pulled apart and crammed in between the window and the rubber sealant-thing-y to keep it in place. (Also? You know what can put a damper on your beach cruising? Stopping for gas on the way and having the window fall, so you try to push it back up and it completely comes out of the door. That'll send you right back home with the hopes of catching the last half of Barbara Wa-Wa.) So there I was, sitting in my car, L in the back seat, praying that I was just forgetful before mashing (yes, we mash buttons in the south) the down button for the window. And then I heard it. That ever familiar clunking of the window not being on the window assembly track. And I wanted to cry.
Got to grandma's house, told Ryan about it, and handed the baby off to relatives needing their baby fix. Ryan looked at it, listened to the clunking sound, and said that we'd see about it later and not to worry. When we were ready to go, I went to get in the car and it wouldn't crank. Then I remembered that I'd had to turn the key halfway to let him listen to the clunking sound and I'd forgotten to turn the key back off. So the battery was dead. Seriously, not a good hour for me. Did I mention that the soccer game was on and we were expected at Beef's to watch it with some friends? No? Yeah...totally running late at this point. Ryan throws Baby L in the truck and we head up there, leaving my car at grandma's. I looked in the rearview mirror to see my sweet green shoebox saying, "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! Forgiiiiiiivvveeeee meeeeeee!!!!!"
And here's why I feel the way I do about this car. I bought it. My first car, a 1992 Toyota Corolla, was handed down to me from my mom. I still dream about that car from time to time. My next car was a 1993 Honda Accord...bought from my brother as he was getting a company car. I also LOVED this car because it was heavier, was a two-door, HAD AN ARMREST, and had power windows (which I would roll only halfway down...because that's what the cool kids did). And then I had a little wreck in it. It was repaired, but the air conditioner was pretty much done for. I was getting ready to leave for college and my mom wanted me in something reliable (I wanted AIR), and something with "some weight to it". I had started working when I was 16 and had saved up a pretty good nest egg. All of my high school graduation money, all of my Christmas bonuses from work...just about all of my paychecks (minus car insurance, gas money, and the occasional hamburger from Burger King) went into the bank. So when she said that it was time, I was ready. We researched the Element (they'd just come out) and even drove to Atlanta to get the best deal. Found "the one" and I let mom do her magic. The "purchase story" is a whole separate blog post. But we got it. Mom paid my taxes and tag and gave me $1000 and I covered the rest. I was able to pay half of the purchase price and finance the rest. I covered all the payments until I hit the hard classes and she took over for a while so I could study and not work. So...yes, I had some help, but for the most part, I paid for that car. That car that was now sitting in Ryan's grandma's yard with a leaf bag hanging over the driver's side window just a flappin' in the breeze.
After the game, we went back and picked up the car. I drove it home with the windows down and the air conditioner on. I hung my arm out the window so my car wouldn't feel guilty about letting me down, but to let it think that I liked driving that way. "Hey, it's okay that you decided to break on me. Seriously, it's okay. I like driving this way. Sweat is cool." Once we got home, Ryan got to work. He started pulling off the door panel and switches, and I started clearing room in the garage. Something just told me that it wasn't going to be fixed and we'd have to keep it out of the rain. After about 2 hours he called it quits. He guided me as I drove it in the garage. I got it all snuggled in and closed the door. Seriously, I wanted to cry. Yes, it's a 2003 and seven years old. Yes, it's got almost 90K miles on it. Yes, there's a tiny tear in the seat from Sebastian's toe nail. Yes, the doors are giving me grief with having to wrestle with a car seat everyday. And yes, I'm emotionally attached to every piece of metal and plastic found on it. I still remember having my picture taken the afternoon I bought it. I sat on the tailgate and smiled so big. The day we drove it home it was raining on a Sunday and Atlanta traffic was crazy so I asked my mom to drive it because I was too nervous. I yelled at her to use both hands. A lady and her daughter drove up beside us and honked and waved, yelling out the window, "We love your car!"
I know that the window is going to be fixed (mainly because Ryan just emailed me that he's already ordered the part), but it reminds me that my sweet ride may be on it's way out. Last year the fan motor for the air conditioner died and we had to replace that. It's things like this that make me realize that my car isn't two years old anymore. It's not ancient, but it's not new, either. And I'm not sure why, but that makes me kinda sad. I'm sure that when I get another new car I'll feel similar, but this one...this one was special. Is special.
Sigh...
That night we went to Sonny's. I was in no emotional state to cook and it was late anyway (we got there at 8:15).
Sunday I was planning on cooking a nice Sunday dinner (that's at high noon for all you non-southerners), but it didn't happen. We were at church later than we'd planned, and we didn't want to wait to cook something elaborate. Tuna salad sandwiches and peanut butter crackers...yum yum. There went my last two cans of tuna. (I'm getting there! Slowly, but surely!)
After we ate and sat down on the couch, Ryan looked up at the thermostat to notice that it was blank. Blank. BLANK. He got mad, I started crying, and Baby L started screaming (mainly because he was just fussy, though). During the winter the thermostat did the same thing and after calling Peaden out, it was fixed...while also discovering that our kill-switch wasn't hooked up correctly. Go figure. Ryan checked that and sure enough, the drain line was backing up and the kill-switch had turned it off. We called our parents and asked how to clean it out. After trying to back flush the line, my dad brought over his air compressor and we flushed it out that way. (by the way, the elbow drain coming from the side of the house is NOT the air conditioner drain...just so you know). Everything's working beautifully now (other than my back) and hopefully nothing else will break. If it does, you might hear of a roof flying off in our area...that'll be ours.
It was.
A.
FOOD SHOWER.
Seriously, no kidding, I'm not lying. The idea was to bring ready-to-freeze or already frozen meals for the family to be able to heat up and eat during the first few days and weeks of bringing the baby home. Awesome idea, right? Let me tell you, I might be throwing some of these for my friends in the future. Our church has a ministry called "Labor of Love" that also provides meals for the first week and I cannot tell you how much of a blessing it was to not have to worry about preparing food. When you're bleary eyed from so sleep, freaking out because you're not sure if you're doing anything right, and sore from...well, you know...food is the last thing on your mind, but definitely a show-must-go-on type item. So...food shower...write that down.
Another wonderful friend of mine came by and picked me and Baby L up and we arrived at the shower. It was beautiful. They had it at Willows, a tea room here in town. Fun people, fun stuff, and fun times. I can't wait to meet the new baby. Oh, and what did I bring, you're probably wondering? Baked Ziti! See, it just so happened that I had a whole casserole dish of Baked Ziti that we hadn't even broken into (from the Wednesday night small group). I cut it up in halves and put it in plastic containers and popped it in the freezer. They can probably make two meals out of it...seriously, word from the wise: Don't double that recipe.
On the way home from the shower I was telling my friend (who has a mini van) how much I want a mini van but that there's nothing wrong with my car, I LOVE my car (except for juggling the car seat with the doors), and it's paid for (they drive a lot smoother when they're paid for, FYI). We get home, she drops me off, and I go in and start feeding the baby. Then Ryan calls. It seems that I (surprise surprise) didn't answer my cell phone (because it was turned off...because I forgot to charge it...surprise surprise) and he's been trying to call me to come over to his grandmother's house so his aunt (who's in town) can meet the baby. Oops. I totally forgot all about this. I finish feeding L, get him buckled up, and head outside. To find the window down in my car.
Hmmmm......
I distinctly remember checking to make sure that the car was locked (because I forget to do that, too sometimes) and don't remember rolling down the window...much less leaving it down. Crap. I know what this means before I even reach inside to unlock the door ('Cause honestly, what's the point? The window is down. Surely I'm not going to hit the button on my key chain.)
See, I used to have a Honda Accord before I bought my Element. it had some years on it and the window was constantly rattling. It had something to do with the window not staying completely on the track and no matter how many times it would be realigned, it would always fall off and continue to rattle. My mom also had this problem with her Camry years ago. For a while we had a clothespin pulled apart and crammed in between the window and the rubber sealant-thing-y to keep it in place. (Also? You know what can put a damper on your beach cruising? Stopping for gas on the way and having the window fall, so you try to push it back up and it completely comes out of the door. That'll send you right back home with the hopes of catching the last half of Barbara Wa-Wa.) So there I was, sitting in my car, L in the back seat, praying that I was just forgetful before mashing (yes, we mash buttons in the south) the down button for the window. And then I heard it. That ever familiar clunking of the window not being on the window assembly track. And I wanted to cry.
Got to grandma's house, told Ryan about it, and handed the baby off to relatives needing their baby fix. Ryan looked at it, listened to the clunking sound, and said that we'd see about it later and not to worry. When we were ready to go, I went to get in the car and it wouldn't crank. Then I remembered that I'd had to turn the key halfway to let him listen to the clunking sound and I'd forgotten to turn the key back off. So the battery was dead. Seriously, not a good hour for me. Did I mention that the soccer game was on and we were expected at Beef's to watch it with some friends? No? Yeah...totally running late at this point. Ryan throws Baby L in the truck and we head up there, leaving my car at grandma's. I looked in the rearview mirror to see my sweet green shoebox saying, "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! Forgiiiiiiivvveeeee meeeeeee!!!!!"
And here's why I feel the way I do about this car. I bought it. My first car, a 1992 Toyota Corolla, was handed down to me from my mom. I still dream about that car from time to time. My next car was a 1993 Honda Accord...bought from my brother as he was getting a company car. I also LOVED this car because it was heavier, was a two-door, HAD AN ARMREST, and had power windows (which I would roll only halfway down...because that's what the cool kids did). And then I had a little wreck in it. It was repaired, but the air conditioner was pretty much done for. I was getting ready to leave for college and my mom wanted me in something reliable (I wanted AIR), and something with "some weight to it". I had started working when I was 16 and had saved up a pretty good nest egg. All of my high school graduation money, all of my Christmas bonuses from work...just about all of my paychecks (minus car insurance, gas money, and the occasional hamburger from Burger King) went into the bank. So when she said that it was time, I was ready. We researched the Element (they'd just come out) and even drove to Atlanta to get the best deal. Found "the one" and I let mom do her magic. The "purchase story" is a whole separate blog post. But we got it. Mom paid my taxes and tag and gave me $1000 and I covered the rest. I was able to pay half of the purchase price and finance the rest. I covered all the payments until I hit the hard classes and she took over for a while so I could study and not work. So...yes, I had some help, but for the most part, I paid for that car. That car that was now sitting in Ryan's grandma's yard with a leaf bag hanging over the driver's side window just a flappin' in the breeze.
After the game, we went back and picked up the car. I drove it home with the windows down and the air conditioner on. I hung my arm out the window so my car wouldn't feel guilty about letting me down, but to let it think that I liked driving that way. "Hey, it's okay that you decided to break on me. Seriously, it's okay. I like driving this way. Sweat is cool." Once we got home, Ryan got to work. He started pulling off the door panel and switches, and I started clearing room in the garage. Something just told me that it wasn't going to be fixed and we'd have to keep it out of the rain. After about 2 hours he called it quits. He guided me as I drove it in the garage. I got it all snuggled in and closed the door. Seriously, I wanted to cry. Yes, it's a 2003 and seven years old. Yes, it's got almost 90K miles on it. Yes, there's a tiny tear in the seat from Sebastian's toe nail. Yes, the doors are giving me grief with having to wrestle with a car seat everyday. And yes, I'm emotionally attached to every piece of metal and plastic found on it. I still remember having my picture taken the afternoon I bought it. I sat on the tailgate and smiled so big. The day we drove it home it was raining on a Sunday and Atlanta traffic was crazy so I asked my mom to drive it because I was too nervous. I yelled at her to use both hands. A lady and her daughter drove up beside us and honked and waved, yelling out the window, "We love your car!"
I know that the window is going to be fixed (mainly because Ryan just emailed me that he's already ordered the part), but it reminds me that my sweet ride may be on it's way out. Last year the fan motor for the air conditioner died and we had to replace that. It's things like this that make me realize that my car isn't two years old anymore. It's not ancient, but it's not new, either. And I'm not sure why, but that makes me kinda sad. I'm sure that when I get another new car I'll feel similar, but this one...this one was special. Is special.
Sigh...
That night we went to Sonny's. I was in no emotional state to cook and it was late anyway (we got there at 8:15).
Sunday I was planning on cooking a nice Sunday dinner (that's at high noon for all you non-southerners), but it didn't happen. We were at church later than we'd planned, and we didn't want to wait to cook something elaborate. Tuna salad sandwiches and peanut butter crackers...yum yum. There went my last two cans of tuna. (I'm getting there! Slowly, but surely!)
After we ate and sat down on the couch, Ryan looked up at the thermostat to notice that it was blank. Blank. BLANK. He got mad, I started crying, and Baby L started screaming (mainly because he was just fussy, though). During the winter the thermostat did the same thing and after calling Peaden out, it was fixed...while also discovering that our kill-switch wasn't hooked up correctly. Go figure. Ryan checked that and sure enough, the drain line was backing up and the kill-switch had turned it off. We called our parents and asked how to clean it out. After trying to back flush the line, my dad brought over his air compressor and we flushed it out that way. (by the way, the elbow drain coming from the side of the house is NOT the air conditioner drain...just so you know). Everything's working beautifully now (other than my back) and hopefully nothing else will break. If it does, you might hear of a roof flying off in our area...that'll be ours.
Comments