RAW(e) Photo Competition: Red

Last week was so much fun, I had to enter again.  This week, the theme is RED.  I love this picture of our first big snow in Wester.  Notice that Q is wearing two cowboy hats.  If one is good, two is better, right?

P.S. Join in if you like. Just click here.

Cute Do

We all had a trip to the beauty parlor this week.  I got a trim and highlight touch-up/repair.  Z got her summer cut, a short stacked bob.  What does it say about me as a parent that Z's haircut is SO much more fashion forward than mine?  Q got a trim so he doesn't look like a shaggy hippy (his father's words). 

I am so tickled with my color.  When I got the highlights last fall, they were not at all the subtle lightened-by-the-sun-looking streaks I was hoping for.  Instead, Red gave me super fashionable chunky streaks.  I am not a super fashionable kind of gal.  I like to pretend that I am still a natural blond, so I really didn't want obvious evidence to the contrary that I am not!  Luckily, my hair bleaches prettily, so even though they were not natural looking, at least the streaks were a nice color.  Eventually, I got used to my 'tiger stripes,' as T called them.  What I never got used to was the fact that the brightest of the stripes started about an inch from the root line in the front.  Nothing says natural like a full inch of dark roots around your face!  Pretty!  But those are a thing of the past.  My hair is now looking sun-kissed and natural.  And Red is SO cheap!  Yet another perk to life in a small(ish) town!

Z probably got six inches lopped of the back of her hair.  Adorable!  I didn't realize how hip her 'do was until I started looking around and noticed that about every third adult I noticed had some variation of Z's cut.  Bun said she wants Red to cut her hair to look just like Z's.  I'd say that was a successful cut!

Q had a mighty case of the fidgets, so we are lucky he came out with both of his ears intact, let alone a symmetrical cut.  He did a good job for a little guy in a new environment, surrounded by a bunch of chatty women.  A far cry from the barber shop! 

I made yet another trip to the salon the next day for a Rock Star pedicure.  Basically, nail gel + glitter + more nail gel + baked under a light = BIG sparkly toes.  LOVE!  I'll spare you photographic evidence.  It was a fun girly beauty week.  I am now obsessively searching for the stuff to do gel nails myself.  Just what I need.  Another project!

A Police

Overheard on the drive to school:

Q:  I see a truck!
Z:  I see a police car!
Q: Where?
Z:  Over there!  See?  The one that looks like Daddy's.
Q:  No it doesn't.*
Z:  Yes, it does!  That is a police car and Daddy is a police!
Q:  No!  He not a police!  He just a daddy!

*In his defense, T doesn't drive a squad car any more.  Since he has to carry scales to weigh trucks, he drives a police pick-up truck, instead.

RAW(e) Photo Competition: Water

Simoney at Great Fun 4 Kids posted about this and I'm nothing if not suggestible.  So I'm joining in the fun over at Sailor & Co: the RAW(e) photo competition. The theme this week is "Water". Photos must be Raw and un-retouched, straight from the camera.

I have several great ones of my water baby, Z, that I'd love to enter, but this one was my favorite.

P.S. Join in if you like. Just click here.

Road Trip

1 car
+ 2 moms
+ 3 children
+ 4 dogs
+ 5 pancakes
+ 6 diapers
+ 7 hot dogs
+ 8 temper tantrums
+ 9 cookies
+ 10 rain showers
= A great trip to the ranch with Bun and the kids.

Differing Parenting Styles

Who knew there were so many differences in parenting (dogs)? First there is the co-sleeping (with your dogs) issue. T and I fall firmly in different camps there. I think that as long as they aren't hogging the bed, what's the harm? T says, "No way!"* Then there is the issue of discipline (for your dogs). T is a yell-er, but I am more of a you-get-more-flies-with-honey-type of dog trainer. Should children dogs be allowed on the furniture? At last! Agreement: wholeheartedly, yes! As for potty training (your dogs)? I don't know if there is a right answer.

Our major bone of contention (pun entirely intended) is feeding (our dogs). T is of the grazing school and I am of the scheduled feeding point of view. Strangely, this is true for our children, too. Everything that I have read indicates that left to their own devices, dogs will eat 25% more than they actually need if given the opportunity. Which translates to weighing 25% more than their ideal weight. And except for Griffin, this was the case at our house. Our female pom, Izzy, is fat as a tick under all that fur. Blackie loses her waistline every winter and finds it again after hiking in the mountains in the summer.

Then came Holly. Holly has totally tipped the scales on the feeding issue (again! with the puns! I can't help myself!). Since her arrival on Christmas Eve, the rest of our pack has started losing weight. And Holly is finding it. Why are the other hounds getting so trim? Because Hoover Holly is eating EVERYONE'S food! At her last vet visit, she weighed in at a dainty 90 pounds.

We had to give up on grazing. Instead, we fill the big dogs' bowl at meal times, hoping that Blackie will be able to muscle in her share of the grub. She often resorts to eating the little dogs' food - which involves squatting down under a baker's rack to reach it. T can't stand the sight of the bottom of an empty dog bowl, so I think he must be sneaking extra chow into it on the sly. I have noticed that Blackie is plumping up again, so now I guess both of our big dogs will be big fat dogs.

T refuses to regard the herd as dogs. He thinks of them as 'furry people'. Fat and happy furry people at that.


*More like, "No way! Except for Griffin. And sometimes Izzy. Or Blackie and Holly as long as I am not the one sleeping!"

Does Warner Brothers Know About This?

Batman. Q is obsessed with Batman. Where did he get this obsession? No idea. Maybe the action figure T found in the bowels of desk? Where ever it came from, it is true love.

When we were in the hospital, all he wanted to do was watch Batman cartoons. Luckily, Target had some DVDs with four episodes each on them. Daddy was a hero when he brought them up to Q's room. We watched those eight episodes five times each. At least!

Since his return to health and home, Q has an ever increasing list of Batman items he would like for me to procure for him. The list includes (but is not exclusive to) the following:

• Batman lipstick
• Batman helmet
• Batman car
• Batman soap
  
• Batman motorcycle
• Batman cereal
• Batman sword
• Batman suit
• Batman shoes

But my favorite by far was announced this afternoon after school. The driver of the car parked next to us was holding an adorable mixed breed puppy. She was kind enough to let us pet it, and offered to let us take one of the nine (!) puppies home with us. I said thanks, but no thanks and hustled the kids into the car.

Once in the car, Z asked when we could have a little puppy like that one. I told her not for a long time because four was more than enough dogs for one family. While she was digesting that, Q piped up with, "Mama, I want a Batman puppy!"

Nerd Humor

Walking through a narrow space in our (poorly designed) kitchen, I ran a hand over my hub's tummy as I squeezed by him.

"That's my belly. My round belly," he says.

Rolling my eyes, I pat my own fluffy middle and say, "Your belly isn't round. My belly is round!"

"So, should I call you pi?" he asks, eyes twinkling.

Groaning, I ask, "Because pi are round*?"

"See? I've been calling you by the right name all these years, sweetie pi!"


*This is the punch line from an old joke: A farmer's son goes to college. When he gets home, his father asks him what he has learned for all of that money. The son thinks a minute and says, "pi r square." The dad replies with dismay, "I don't know what they are teaching you at that fancy school of yours, but everyone knows cornbread are square. Pie are round!"

Yogurt

Though I will try to be discreet, this post is about a delicate area topic. If you are at all squeamish or embarrass easily, I suggest you skip it. Seriously.





I went to the lady doctor last week and was prescribed a course of antibiotics for a minor malady. I had to take a pretty strong one, Keflex (the green ones that smell like poop), twice a day for ten days. Ladies, I am sure you know where this is going.

I woke up on Easter morning suffering from the predictable, if unfortunate, side effect antibiotics have on girly bits. So of course, I wear black microfiber for an outdoor luncheon and really work up a sweat. Because I'm smart like that. Also? I was desperately hoping that I was mistaken in my self diagnosis.

By early evening, it felt like I had poison ivy in a place where no one should EVER have poison ivy. Oh, the agony! Luckily, I had a stash of Diflucan leftover from a previous antibiotic script. Hmmm. It was six-plus years old. Would it still work? Dr. Dad-in-law said it would. And I'd know by the next day if it didn't, so no biggie, right? Down the hatch!

In the meantime, it felt like I was wearing wool undies. I needed a few things for symptom relief while the pill was getting into gear. Unfortunately, the chillies were wired for sound on Easter chocolate and I couldn't bring myself to subject the world to them. T was on duty, but was planning on coming home for his break around 10:00. Excellent! I asked him to pick up some Acidophilus and some plain un-sweetened yogurt. I didn't want to ask him to get the hardcore stuff because a.) Diflucan has always worked for me before; and b.) I didn't want him to burst into flames at the check-out counter.

A few hours later he comes home with a couple of bags of groceries. Desperate for relief, I start digging through them. Aww! How nice! He brought me my favorite cookies! And ice cream to go with it! He is so thoughtful! I find the Acidophilus and am hunting around for the yogurt. It's not in the bags so I check the fridge. I don't see it, so I check the bags again. I notice the ice cream isn't a brand we have gotten before. Wha?

It was frozen yogurt. Artificially sweetened vanilla yogurt.

The laugh I had might have been worth it if the itching hadn't been so miserable. I explained that the yogurt was for, erm, medicinal purposes. 'Artificially sweetened vanilla' was not, in fact, the same as 'plain un-sweetened.' T's eyes bugged out like a cartoon character's as he digested that information. "I just thought you were having a craving. Vanilla is plain, right?"

He still gets points for the effort.

There's a Whole Lotta Sumpin' Going On

There are six dogs in my house. That's right. I said SIX. As in six tails, 12 ears, 24 paws and 90 billion hair follicles. Yikes!

We started out with our usual complement of four. On Wednesday, we were joined by Bun's dog, Lucy, while she is attending a wedding out of state. After Q's trip to the emergency room yesterday, the ranch-bound grandparents decided they would come here, instead. And bring Scout.

Wow. That is a lot of dogs.

Good thing I have the Dyson Animal, huh? All the dogs get along remarkably well. Lucy is a total spaz, but so very sweet. She has scaled the ranks of the pack and has ended up being the top dog of the Critical Mass large dog pack. Luckily, she is smart enough not to take on Griffin's eight-pound-bad-a$$-alpha self, but has been humping every surface on poor Holly that she can reach.

Scout is old and crippled up, so he doesn't get into too much trouble. Just enough to keep Lucy in her place. As a matter of fact, I think he might have a little crush on Miss Lucy. He follows her around and barks if she won't play with him. It's like Peyton Place, but for dogs. Would that be Pawton Place?

Woof!