Since the trouble this fall I have gotten out of the habit of reading blogs. Maybe because my blog reader was telling me that I had 1000+ posts to wade through... It didn't seem to matter how much I weeded the list, it was too daunting to tackle. And of course there is the problem with not wanting to miss any of my favorite blogs' posts. I couldn't possibly delete those! Despite my valiant efforts, I have not been able to get the number of posts awaiting my attention down to fewer than 300.
I don't know what clicked this week - pre-/post-Christmas procrastination? - but I am back on the blog-reading horse. In the time that I have been MIA, multiple babies have been born. It seems like Amy was just getting her cerclage yesterday, and today she has a bouncing baby girl.
Ah, my imaginary friends on the internet! I have missed you!
12.28.2009
12.26.2009
...and then there were FOUR
For years I have introduced our family as "one dog shy of being weird people." If this statement is true, I am now officially a weird dog person.
T called me at the crack of dawn on Christmas Eve from a weigh station in the middle of nowhere. Once I was awake enough to answer the phone and form coherent sentences, T asked me if I had been serious the night before when we discussed the (distant) possibility of another large dog to keep Blackie's separation anxiety from destroying our house while we are out. I warily asked him why.
"I was around back going on a tree when this huge chocolate lab ran right up to me. I practically peed on her head!" (Like the fact that he had almost marked her was somehow a selling point.) "She's super friendly and can already do tricks! She sits and shakes! If I just leave her here, she will get hit by a truck on the interstate. I guess I could take her to the pound, but they don't keep them very long before they put them to sleep. Can I bring her home?" All of this is said very quickly, six-year-old-begging-for-candy-style.
My response? Well, don't let her get run over.
So now we have another dog. Another BIG dog. T brought her home before I had even made it out of bed. When the dogs started freaking out, I jumped out of bed and treated T's partner to a show (imagine a fat, bra-less, squint-eyed, wild-haired woman in a ratty night shirt and a bite guard. Pretty.) and saw the most gorgeous brown dog I have ever seen. She stole our hearts immediately.
I called around and found a vet open on Christmas Eve to check her out and make sure she wasn't going to give my other hounds the plague. Oh, and to see if she was chipped so we could give her back to her real owners. Yeah, like that was going to happen. They would have to have a really good reason why she was dumpster diving next to an interstate before T would relinquish her. Anyhoo, no chip. We got her wormed and vaccinated. She weighs a whopping 82 pounds. The vet estimates her to be two or three years old. He gave us the wormer for free since we were adopting her on Christmas and all. I think he was half hoping I would let him have her!
So far, she has done remarkably well. She seems to be fine with letting the tiny male pom remain the alpha dog - even though she could eat Griffin in two hairy bites. When Izzy barks at her, she is fascinated rather than annoyed. She lets the kids climb all over her. She did eat a stick and a half of butter and the beginnings of a breakfast casserole off the counter on the first day. There were, ahem, digestive consequences for that in the middle of the night. Blech.
Last night she hopped up on my bed with me to snuggle while I was on the phone with my fam. So. very. sweet. So, weird dog people it is - though T says we only have one dog per person, so we are still one dog shy of weird dog people. Whatever. I'll take it!
UPDATED: We named her Holly. Holly Berry actually. A nod to both the season and another gorgeous brown girl. T is trying to stage a mutiny and is calling her "Brownie." I am not going to have it. (Blackie and Brownie? Uh, no. Blackie is bad enough - everyone assumes the kids named her.) Besides, her real name has already been recorded at the vet's office!
T called me at the crack of dawn on Christmas Eve from a weigh station in the middle of nowhere. Once I was awake enough to answer the phone and form coherent sentences, T asked me if I had been serious the night before when we discussed the (distant) possibility of another large dog to keep Blackie's separation anxiety from destroying our house while we are out. I warily asked him why.
"I was around back going on a tree when this huge chocolate lab ran right up to me. I practically peed on her head!" (Like the fact that he had almost marked her was somehow a selling point.) "She's super friendly and can already do tricks! She sits and shakes! If I just leave her here, she will get hit by a truck on the interstate. I guess I could take her to the pound, but they don't keep them very long before they put them to sleep. Can I bring her home?" All of this is said very quickly, six-year-old-begging-for-candy-style.
My response? Well, don't let her get run over.
So now we have another dog. Another BIG dog. T brought her home before I had even made it out of bed. When the dogs started freaking out, I jumped out of bed and treated T's partner to a show (imagine a fat, bra-less, squint-eyed, wild-haired woman in a ratty night shirt and a bite guard. Pretty.) and saw the most gorgeous brown dog I have ever seen. She stole our hearts immediately.
I called around and found a vet open on Christmas Eve to check her out and make sure she wasn't going to give my other hounds the plague. Oh, and to see if she was chipped so we could give her back to her real owners. Yeah, like that was going to happen. They would have to have a really good reason why she was dumpster diving next to an interstate before T would relinquish her. Anyhoo, no chip. We got her wormed and vaccinated. She weighs a whopping 82 pounds. The vet estimates her to be two or three years old. He gave us the wormer for free since we were adopting her on Christmas and all. I think he was half hoping I would let him have her!
So far, she has done remarkably well. She seems to be fine with letting the tiny male pom remain the alpha dog - even though she could eat Griffin in two hairy bites. When Izzy barks at her, she is fascinated rather than annoyed. She lets the kids climb all over her. She did eat a stick and a half of butter and the beginnings of a breakfast casserole off the counter on the first day. There were, ahem, digestive consequences for that in the middle of the night. Blech.
Last night she hopped up on my bed with me to snuggle while I was on the phone with my fam. So. very. sweet. So, weird dog people it is - though T says we only have one dog per person, so we are still one dog shy of weird dog people. Whatever. I'll take it!
UPDATED: We named her Holly. Holly Berry actually. A nod to both the season and another gorgeous brown girl. T is trying to stage a mutiny and is calling her "Brownie." I am not going to have it. (Blackie and Brownie? Uh, no. Blackie is bad enough - everyone assumes the kids named her.) Besides, her real name has already been recorded at the vet's office!
12.25.2009
Merry Catmas!
Nothing says merry Christmas like a bunch of ticked off cats! Enjoy!
Ho freaking ho. This is why I barf in your shoes.
I posted this one last year, but it still makes me laugh out loud.
I hope your holiday was filled with lots of laughter - and no cat barf!
I hope your holiday was filled with lots of laughter - and no cat barf!
12.22.2009
Addicted
I am addicted to crack. Christmas Crack, that is. It is the sweet version of Chex Mix, and it should be illegal. Actually, I renamed is Christmas Crunch so that there would not be any unfortunate misunderstandings involving family services or jail time. I stumbled on the recipe here, and made a few modifications that make it just that much more addictive yummy.
Rae Ann's Christmas Crunch
There you go. Now you can be an addict, too. You're welcome!
Rae Ann's Christmas Crunch
- 3 pounds vanilla candy coating (aka: Almond Bark)
- 1 box each: Coco Puffs, Kix, Corn Chex, and Wheat Chex (or generic equivalents)
- 1 bag stick or ring pretzels
- 1 bag Christmas M&Ms
There you go. Now you can be an addict, too. You're welcome!
12.21.2009
The Naptime Decorator Strikes Again!
I am so tickled with myself! I managed to get my curtains all sewn and hung in the living room, dining room and kitchen. I got the idea for the curtains from a fall issue of Better Homes and Gardens magazine (I'd give you the issue and a link, but I can't track them down. Rats!)
I made them out of burlap. As in feed sack material. It sounds weird - or at the very least trailer park chic - but they turned out impressively well! The fabric has a good texture with nice body and looks like linen when the sun shines through it. Best of all? It was cheap! I bought 13 yards for just under $40. Awesome!
I could have make it easy on myself and just hung them with curtain rings, but that wasn't quite the look I was going for. Instead, I sewed a four inch seam across the tom and put in back tabs for a fuller, slightly more formal look.
I am probably not finished with them yet... I am planning to add some kind of fancy trim to contrast with the humble burlap. I am toying with multiple ribbon bands, some kind of dangle-y beaded trim, or a wild loop fiber trim. I haven't come across the perfect trim yet, but I will know it when I see it!
It is amazing to me how a few curtain panels make a room look so much more finished! Now, if I could just get these last few boxes unpacked!
I made them out of burlap. As in feed sack material. It sounds weird - or at the very least trailer park chic - but they turned out impressively well! The fabric has a good texture with nice body and looks like linen when the sun shines through it. Best of all? It was cheap! I bought 13 yards for just under $40. Awesome!
I could have make it easy on myself and just hung them with curtain rings, but that wasn't quite the look I was going for. Instead, I sewed a four inch seam across the tom and put in back tabs for a fuller, slightly more formal look.
I am probably not finished with them yet... I am planning to add some kind of fancy trim to contrast with the humble burlap. I am toying with multiple ribbon bands, some kind of dangle-y beaded trim, or a wild loop fiber trim. I haven't come across the perfect trim yet, but I will know it when I see it!
It is amazing to me how a few curtain panels make a room look so much more finished! Now, if I could just get these last few boxes unpacked!
12.18.2009
Ho Freaking Ho
The Christmas season is officially kicking my rear this year. I have managed a few victories: getting the tree inside (and lit); taking the kids to see Santa; going to see the gingerbread houses at the Children's Museum; finishing my holiday shopping. And yet have suffered ignoble defeat at the hands of getting the tree decorated, the making of the Christmas goodies and getting my Christmas cards in the mail. Forget about getting the presents wrapped!
The decorations on the tree only go up about two feet. With about three ornaments per branch. One sad specimen is weighed all the way down to the ground. The rest of the ornaments are waiting hopefully in their boxes - down from the attic, at least! - behind the couch. I keep waiting for T to be home so we can decorate the tree as a family. I am too stubborn to just cave and do it myself. We are going to have some family fun, dammit!
It almost goes without saying that the house won't be completely put together in time for the festivities. Just close enough to make me crazy. @#$%! It is so tempting to spend my dwindling hours until the big day cranking out curtains for the public areas of the house, but somehow I don't think that would be a wise use of my time. Better to corral the massive herd of dust bunnies and get the spots out of the carpet than worry about finishing details so far from the finish!
This year, for the first time, I can see why my mom was always such a crab at Christmas. I'd better get a lid on myself or it will be bay leaves and melted butter for me!
And now for gratuitous offspring pictures!
The decorations on the tree only go up about two feet. With about three ornaments per branch. One sad specimen is weighed all the way down to the ground. The rest of the ornaments are waiting hopefully in their boxes - down from the attic, at least! - behind the couch. I keep waiting for T to be home so we can decorate the tree as a family. I am too stubborn to just cave and do it myself. We are going to have some family fun, dammit!
It almost goes without saying that the house won't be completely put together in time for the festivities. Just close enough to make me crazy. @#$%! It is so tempting to spend my dwindling hours until the big day cranking out curtains for the public areas of the house, but somehow I don't think that would be a wise use of my time. Better to corral the massive herd of dust bunnies and get the spots out of the carpet than worry about finishing details so far from the finish!
This year, for the first time, I can see why my mom was always such a crab at Christmas. I'd better get a lid on myself or it will be bay leaves and melted butter for me!
And now for gratuitous offspring pictures!
12.14.2009
The Tinkle Has Landed!
Q TINKLED ON THE POTTY!!!
We have been in the pre-stages of potty training with Q for a while now. He likes to flush the potty and pull down his pants to get on the potty, but actually sitting there? Not so much. We set him up there and he'll sit still for about a nanosecond and then he is ready to be doing other things.
So tonight, during the pre-bath-time wind-up, I didn't expect for things to go any differently. He got himself undressed. He pulled up the stool and situated the potty seat. By himself. ('By himself' has been a key player in our house lately.) He accepted a little assistance to actually climb up on the throne.
As expected, he was ready to get off as soon as his tush hit the seat. I told him to wait a minute and see if anything happened. Before the words had even completely left my mouth, his eyes got all round and there was a tiny splash in the pot. He looked up at me in awe and said, "I did it!"
Years of cheerleader training kicked into high gear. I squealed and congratulated him. I bounced around. I went and got T and shared the big news. Then he cheered and congratulated him. Q was very pleased, if somewhat nonchalant about the whole thing.
After the congratulatory hubbub died down, Q walked over to the toilet, flushed, and said, "Bye-bye tinkles!" like he'd been doing it his whole life. Wow.
If you had asked me before I was a parent if I could get this excited about a bodily function, I would have laughed my head off. Who knew!?
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