We are loving the new house.
It’s still a little surreal sometimes when I walk upstairs to go do something in the girls’ rooms or I walk into our beautiful closet to put something away. I love it. But somehow it still feels like we are playing house after living in our little garden home the last 3 years. It’s a lot like our Dallas house, but just different enough to make it Austin.
Anyway, we are embracing our new home and pictures have been hung and Ava’s room has been painted. That’s about where my ambitions ended and I’m fine with that for now.
We haven’t met many neighbors yet, they don’t seem to be the type that like to hang out and chit chat. A lot of them are somewhat reminiscent of our old neighbors (literally old) that just walked their little toy dogs and looked past us. Whatever, no big. The couple we’ve met have been nice. Or it could just be that it’s 80 billion degrees and people are delirious. Who knows.
All I do know is that people don’t seem to give a shit about their dogs barking at 10:34 at night. Or some time in that vicinity. EVERY. SINGLE. NIGHT. It’s like a damn dog fight fest out there.
What happened to courtesy and respect for neighbors?
I get it. Dogs bark. Ours does. (only Princess, Rocky is too dumb to know how to bark I think. Instead he runs aimlessly up and down along the fence thinking he can catch the dog on the other side.)
But you know what I do when our dog barks? I run my ass to the door and hurriedly get her inside for fear that she will irritate the neighbors and they’ll hate us. Apparently we are the only ones who do that.
Maybe I’m just not used to living in a house where there are lots of dogs (and large ones at that) nearby. Who knows. All I know is that when my kid actually learns to sleep in a crib on her own upstairs, if those crazy dogs wake her up, I will not be so very happy.