I just want to mow the $&(#*@!! yard already.

So, my yard... not great.

You know that one guy who's mostly bald, but has random tufts of hair sticking up at odd places all over his head, giving him a perpetually unkempt look?

Yeah, that's like the grass in my yard.

Nevertheless, it does still have to be mowed on a semi-regular basis, and at 154 Hidden Court, I am the primary lawn care provider.

Crazy though it sounds, I really enjoy mowing the lawn.  I consider it a treat to be able to be outside, doing donuts on the riding mower, ipod blasting, taking in some sun...

So on my week-before-Easter agenda was to drop the kids at the sitters, pick up a few things for Easter baskets, go grocery shopping, then come home and mow.

I accomplished all the running around stuff, then came home, changed into my lawn-mowing outfit (cutoff jeans and a tank top), got my iPod all set with good yard work music, and went into the garage to start the mower.

I turned the key.


Not a peep.  Not a sound.  


I turned it again, because clearly I must have been doing it wrong the first time, and this time it would surely work.


I texted RJ.  "How do you jump start a lawn mower?"

He never missed a beat.  "There are cables in the garage.  Use the Montero (our SUV).  The battery is under the seat of the mower.  Remember red to red, black to black."

Good advice.

 After a few false starts, I got it up and running, and started to mow.  

Beautiful day, sun shining, I'm outside, Johnny Cash blaring on the iPod, it doesn't get much better... Oh Hell's Bells, there's a big stick.  I stopped the mower to pick it up and get it out of the way.  

Stick disaster averted, I climbed back on the mower, turned the key, and... nothing.

Not even a whine.

At this point, the mower was at one of the lowest and hilliest parts of our two acre yard.  No way was I going to be able to push it up the hill, so I texted RJ again.  "I'm going off-roading in The Montero to jump the mower again.  Wish me luck."

After pulling the car to the far depths of our very hilly yard, I hooked up the jumper cables again... And nothing.  I left them on.  Still nothing.  

I texted RJ again.  "We need a new battery.  Where do those come from?"  He responded with "Lowes, Home Depot, Wal-Mart... Take the old one in for a core exchange."

Uh, ok.

At this point, my time was running short, because I needed to pick the kids up at the sitter.

I did take time to change clothes so as not to be a magnet for wayward rednecks who were trolling Lowe's at 5pm on a Tuesday afternoon looking for a date.  

Ok, fast forward, battery purchased, old battery turned in, (I was lucky enough to have not one, but TWO brand new and very earnestly eager to help assist me with this), so I headed to the sitter's house and picked up the kiddos. 

Dammit.  Can't mow with the kids home.  Now my yard is half mowed, and I'm even more THAT neighbor than I ever have been...  

Suddenly I had a brilliant idea.  One quick turn around, one McDonald's drive-thru and two Happy Meals later, we we back on the road home.

This is where it gets a bit dicey.  If you are, say, a representative of Child Services, you probably have a million better things to do right now than to read my silly little blog.  If you are one of those judgey I'm-such-a-good-parent-oh-the-horror-gasp!-how-could-she-ever-do-THAT? types, you probably never should have been here in the first place.  Anyway, at this point, desperate to finish mowing my half-mown lawn, I moved the kids to the back porch, strapped cj into his high chair, threatened zj with bodily harm if he left the porch for ANY reason - Yes, even werewolves.  Yes, even fire.  Yes, even aliens - plopped a Happy Meal and a juice box in front of each of them, and I finished mowing.

It took me three times as long as it should have, because I had to make a loop by the porch every other minute just to make sure no one was dead.

Also, I did not take the time to change out of my "going to town" clothes, so you can imagine how absolutely freaking insane what that looked like.

But I got finished.

Mission accomplished.

Next time, I'm just going to let the damn dandelions win.

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