9/16/09

I Drove Past The Cuckoo's Nest...


I named this blog Compound Confessions because it sounded kind of cool and because I lovingly refer to our neighborhood as The Compound because my husband and I live on the same road as his sister & her family and his parents.  In very close proximity.
The Compound provides so many things that I'm grateful for.  Trevor walks to work, the kids can be up at Grandma & Grandpa's house in 30 seconds flat, lots of nature and all the plumbing supplies anyone could ever need.
It is also a very safe place for the kids.  When they play outside, I don't fear someone trying to snatch them.  There is always someone around keeping an eye on things.
Convenience and security, two wonderful reasons for loving life in The Compound.

When you look up the word compound in a thesaurus you will find a few other cool words that can replace it.  My personal favorite...coop.  Which as most of you know, is a cage or pen for confining poultry.  However, Coop Confessions doesn't really have the same ring to it.

This place does feel like a coop sometimes and this mother hen needs to do a bit of venting.  You may have noticed, but I haven't really confessed much about The Compound before.

Forgive me Father for I have sinned, my last confession is....NOW!

We are the only houses on our private road.    3 houses + 1 road = only 1 way in & out.

My house is the last house, so I drive past the other two houses every time I pull into my driveway.

Here is my dream...
I would arrive at the coop after work with a peaceful drive down the lane.  Just pull in the driveway and go home.  You know, to do those things you do after a long day of work and school.  Chat with the kids, use the bathroom, help with homework, make supper, give baths, read stories, and spend some quiet time with your family.....the family that you haven't seen all day.   Doesn't that sound like a nice calm way to end my day?

Here is my reality...
I have a neighbor (remember, that would be my niece or nephews) chasing my car, screaming at the top of their lungs, one of two things: "OWEN, OWEN, OWEN!!!!" or "SOPHIA, SOPHIA, SOPHIA!!!!"

Imagine, a farm dog that just realized there was a person on their land.  With lots of barking and biting at tires.  Yeah, that's pretty much it.

Unfortunately, without the shock collar!

This pursuit usually ends with me stopping the car.  You know, because I would prefer not to run over my own niece or nephew.

Then the interrogation starts...

First, a little bit of:       "Where've ya been?"  "Who'd ya see?"  "What'd ya do?"   "What'd ya eat?"

Followed by, a whole lot of:    "Can Owen come to my house?" "Can Sophia stay for supper?" "Are you going to the pond?"  "Can we come?"  "Can I come to your house?"

Remember, all of this is happening at 5:30 on a school night!

This only ends when I say "Sure, why not it is only two hours before bedtime and I haven't seen you all day, and you have homework....."or when I say "No, it's a school night, you have homework, we need to eat supper...".

The first answer is great...my kids are happy, their kids are happy and I am done with the whole scene.

However, if I answer the latter (which normally happens) there is crying, begging, pleading, questioning, sobbing, and sometimes yelling until I drive away from the snotty mess of tears to finally arrive home.

Ahhhh...vodka take me away!

Now, I understand why the neighbors are so excited to see us.  I mean, it has been a full 6 hours since we've seen them last, and we are returning from doing the most exotic things.  Like driving to the grocery store, going to work and walking to the mailbox.

Who doesn't want to relive every detail of the amazing time we had at Point Foods?  

I am sure that we do a thing or two that bugs our neighbors.  We tend to leave the garbage cans at the end of the driveway a day or two longer than they do.  Our friends may leave (after a crazy night of UFC) after dark and their headlights might shine in the neighbor's windows.  I'm sure I yell at my kids more than they want to hear.

I'm probably not even aware of the annoying stuff we do to them.  Clearly, they are not aware how annoying this whole driveway ritual is.

I just keep in mind that no one is the perfect neighbor, and that The Compound is a wonderful place to be raising our family.  We are lucky to have our own little coop.

Even on days when this mother hen feels like pecking someone's eyes out.


Julie



I wanted to find a picture where I look deranged....of course, I could not find a single one.
But, I found this one of Trevor looking like a total nut-job.
Some of the crazy must have rubbed off on him.

8 comments:

  1. Doesn't Trevor always look like that? I'm trying not to imagine other scenarios where he may be making that face. . .

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  2. P.S. I know that there is more in that title than first appears. . . your talents as an author and the hidden significance of your words never ceases to amaze me ----

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  3. Great post. And is it "Vodka take me away?" Huh. I thought it was Calgon. I'm doing it wrong I think.

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  4. I think I would go a little bit crazy in the compound... and now I understand why your from "the compound"!

    Glad you tweeted the link for us! :)

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  5. Loved this post. Your description of driving of driving down the road is so vivid. I know what's it like when my kids are with their cousins, and that only happens once a month!

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  6. I love the fact that you put a picture of your husband looking like a nut job..

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  7. I knew you were a vodka sister. I knew it, I knew it, I knew it. And, for the record, I don't believe for one minute that you couldn't find a deranged pic of yourself.

    Breaver Bags rolls off the tounge.

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  8. I LOVE the fact that a bunch of real life bloggers commented! Thanks guys!

    Hey Abi - wasn't the Grey Goose & Cranberry I drank all weekend enough to to tip you off?

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I can't wait to hear from you!