8 years...whoa!

On a day like yesterday, October 8th, the Sailor and I got married. Wow. Time just flies by, literally. In these 8 years, we have learned quite a few things from each other and about life in general. We were two young kids, with a typical Navy courtship, who knew that it was time to settle down when we met. Crazy stuff! Even crazier when you find out that I had sworn off marriage! I didn't want to do it. The universe had other plans it seems. So, join me down memory lane! Here are some highlights from those 8 years:

- Me swearing to Sailor that I didn't really mean to flash the crowd of kids at the playground. It was the wind that blew my skirt. I mean, could I really do anything about that?

- Sailor flirting with some girl, finding out it was Katherine McPhee, and then immediately calling me to find out who that was. Yes, folks. He really did do this. I still laugh about it to this day. 

- Me being told by a pimp in Atlantic City that he could buy me bigger diamonds than the ones Sailor was looking at. My answer: Really? Wanna talk? I don't know who was more shocked, the jeweler or the pimp, that I actually answered him. I am a smart ass. Sorry.

- Sailor being kind and taking the time to talk to a grieving family at Arlington National Cemetery, after he bugled. This part of the job can be tough on all trumpet players because they are human. They can feel and see the emotional response of the family as Taps is being played. He didn't have to talk to them, he could have just walked away...but he didn't. That to me is huge.

- In 8 years, we have created 5 children: Angel (in heaven), Pixy , Banshee, Louie(in heaven), and Cubby(in utero). Lots of happiness and sadness, all rolled up into one big package. We cried, laughed, and are aware that we have been blessed. Little miracles all of them.

- My wolf dog, Kai, is still extremely pissed that Pixy was born and they fight like siblings ALL THE TIME. It is getting better, though. They do play together before one decides to push the other and then it starts all over again. He has no problem with Banshee though.

-Our other dog, Juneau, was my Mother's Day present. His number was up at the ASPCA and we rescued him. He was skinny and sick then. It was actually very sad. He isn't very bright but he's a good soul, and I am happy to report that he is now attempting to learn how to play. For the most part, he just sits around. He is learning though. 

- Me sitting in an abandoned neighborhood park while Sailor was on a gig, reading a book in the sunshine. I was visited by a chipmunk, some birds, and a bunny. Best couple hours ever!

- Sailor laughing up on stage as Banshee screamed "Yay!", after it was announced that it was the last song of the recital. This is huge because nothing breaks through to him when he is in the 'zone'. Banshee knows what buttons to push. 

- Me taking Sailor out to a date to see David Sedaris read from his book in Baltimore. What a win! I had a literary orgasm and Sailor laughed his ass off. It was magical!

-In 6 months, my father passed away, we put my mother's house for sale, we moved her into our house,  we found out we were pregnant with Cubby, we put our house up for sale, bought a new one, moved two houses worth of crap into the new one, found that Banshee has an Autism Spectrum Disorder, Pixy started Kinder, Banshee started a new school, we are STILL settling in. Sailor has been my sidekick through all of this and I am grateful. It would have been easy for him to wash his hands of the whole thing and keep walking. But, he didn't because he is a rock star. 

Anyway, those are some highlights from our 8 years of bliss, read craziness. I am sure we have some more adventures to take on. Life rarely settles down enough for us to be able to just be still somewhere. Eh, don't know why we would expect anything different. It is the way we are and it works. 

                    Have you any cool highlights from your relationship? Share them with us. 

Show me...the MRI

As a psychologist and a scientist, I love reading research related to parenting and kids (both psychological research and biological research). I will regularly do a Google Scholar search for parenting-related research articles just to see "what's going on." So...what's going on this week?

Testicles.

Seriously.

Researchers at Emory University studied 70 fathers and found that men with a smaller testicular volume were more likely to demonstrate empathy towards their children and to provide more of the care for their children than men who had a larger testicular volume. They also found that men with lower levels of testosterone are likely to do more of the child care in the home.

As a researcher my first thought is, "A sample size of 70 participants is..." well not so hot. Typically if you want to make big claims, you need a big(ger) sample size. But the empathy and testicular volume measurements were taken via MRI, and that's a + (whereas the sample size would be a -).

So what does this mean? Do dating women who want kids need to take their beau to the doctor for a brain and testicular MRI prior to deciding to have kids with them? "Sorry babe, we have to get your 'T' checked before I'll agree to marry you. I don't want to end up changing all the diapers." Should women be avoiding "macho" men (who may have higher testosterone) if they eventually want a family? Or is it possible that as men age their testosterone decreases as does their testicular volume, and thus older men would be more empathic and change more diapers?

This. This is why I love reading research studies.

What have you read that was of interest to you recently?

How well do we know our neighbors?

"Our first home together," my then boyfriend (now husband) said as he unlocked the door. We opened the door, and the scene was straight out of a movie. An 80's movie that is! Stained carpets, holes in the drywall, and missing fixtures. The best part was the yellow counter tops in the outdated kitchen. Sweet! Our first fixer-upper! We fixed it up all right. From repairing walls and laying the whole downstairs in tile, to picking up broken pipes (not the kind for tobacco) in the bushes of our front yard and fixing door handles so the lock wasn't on the outside anymore (to lock the previous owner's kids in), we busted our butts! Every day for 3 months, we worked on this house. It took a lot to start to make it a home.

Soon after we moved in, the neighbors wanted to get to know us. Come to find out, they just wanted to make sure we weren't drug dealing and nude sunbathing delinquents that lived here before. An invite? I'm down. When? Happy Hour. Where? Next door. When? Every Friday night! Who? All of us. Even better that we can walk next door, bring the kids and knock back a few while the neighborhood kids play (and wear themselves out) together. We were told that when the red flag was up at our neighbors house, c'mon in! Awesome neighbor alert! Until their teenage son decided to knock up some girl (back to back). Now, they are raising grand babies. Happy hour is officially cancelled for the next 18 years. Whammy!

Then there's Norma. She sits on her front porch with a shotgun waiting for activity. Especially those pesky HOA who drag around their kids in 100 degree Texas heat in strollers to write violations. "One blade of grass is 2 inches higher than the rest." Really? You're taking this WAY too seriously. I swear that hill in her front yard is a grave from the last guy who gave her lip! Not only did she chase him off her front porch, she followed him in her car all day going from house to house.One time, my husband was teaching our nephew how to drive. He had the boy take the car around the block a few times. All of a sudden..bhew-whoop, a police siren. She had seen a car circle the neighborhood and called the cops on a suspicious vehicle...on the people she sees every week at happy hour!

Two houses down, lives our oldest neighbor. Older than dirt, he tops the charts at 97. He has been through 3 wars, has retired twice, been through two wives and was a witness to when the Air Force was created in 1947. His hearing and eyesight is fading, and his Parkinson's is getting worse. But, he's outside everyday detailing his wife's car, blowing leaves, and throwing dirty stank eye looks when anyone drives by. I park, get out, wave, and he rolls over in his motorized wheel chair. He gets straight to the point (probably cause he could croak at any given moment and doesn't want to waste time) and tells me "No bullshit, dammit. Never stop moving. That's when you'll die...when you stop moving. You got that, girl?" That's when he turned and brushed my butt with his shoulder as he scooted back home in his power-mobile . Wait a second, I think to myself. Did that..??? Yep, that just happened. I swear, old people really do get away with anything.

Our neighbors are old, young, drunk, and fun. They are old enough to know better, but still too young to care. We make up our own neighborhood watch program and dare anyone to try and challenge us when they think we're not watching. The neighbors would call it 'being taught a lesson' to someone who tries to steal, cheat or lie to any of us. It could also be considered 'Lead Poisoning' in this neck of the woods.

We've all got wacky neighbors - what's your story? How well do you know your neighborhood people (and do you want to)?