Bustin' Loose

I have a dog.  A little dog.  I know, you already know this.  My dog loves people.  LOVES people.  And running.  And running to the bus stop in the morning. 

Yesterday, she got out.  Now we're still working on basic commands like "come."  She's pretty good at "come"...if she knows you have a treat.  But unfortunately, "come" is not powerful enough to overcome the siren song of the bus stop. 

Like I said, she got out into the front yard.  Which she does on occasion.  Usually she just hangs out nearby.  But schools been out for a week.  She hasn't seen her bus stop entourage.  She's apparently going through bus stop withdrawal.   

Which explains why she headed straight down that way.  I got her to stop, but hadn't yet convinced her to "come" when all heck broke loose.  She spotted some of the boys from the bus stop walking to the park.  They were a full block away.  And away she went.  Charging past me, barrelling out across the street - without looking...I might add.  Straight towards the boys, who by this time had gone around the corner and out of my sight. 

I gave chase.  Remember though, it's summertime, and I wasn't wearing my running flip flops.  Nope, I was wearing my cutie wedge flip flops.  And a skirt.  Picture if you will...little dog running down the street, ears flying back.  Middle aged mom (me) running after said dog at top "mom" speed in a skirt and flip flops. 

Next up, comes teen aged boy (Brian), who was barefoot, following suit, and overtaking mom in flip flops.  The dog, by this point, had come to rest at the feet of a group of boys, tail wagging.  "Hi, hi, hi, whatcha doin?"  "whatcha doin?"  "wanna play, huh, wanna play, hi hi hi."

Brian reaches her, and scoops her up.  I catch up to them.  "hi, hi, hi, did you see me? did you see me? I ran real fast...real fast.  Hi, hi, hi!"  "you ran good too, mom!!"  "can we do it again?"  "can we, can we?"

She is soooo grounded. 

I'm now one of "those" people

It's true.  It's happened.  My dog has taken over my life.  I'm now "dog people."  She goes on rides with me in the car.  I take her to the bus stop morning and afternoon.  She's on my lap RIGHT NOW as I'm typing.  Snoring.  And I'm trying to sit still, so I don't disturb her.  It's true. 

On the other hand, it's a little chilly today, and she is keeping my lap warm.  So, technically, she's earning her keep...right?

Wait...leg is asleep...gently, slowly, just moving it....okay, okay, I'll stop.  Whew that was close.  Almost woke the dog up.  In fact I did, if only for a brief moment wake her up.  She gave me the stink eye.  She's back to sleep now.

But, she's just a puppy.  A baby.  I used to hold my human baby in my lap while she napped in the afternoon.  At seven years old, she barely fits now.

We went to a barbeque over the weekend at a friends house.  Our kids are the same age, husbands work for the same company.  Want to know what we talked about?  Our dogs.  They have three dogs, we only have the one.  Our dog was invited to come, but since one of their dogs is very old, we decided our dog/puppy might be too exuberant for him.  So she stayed behind.  In her crate.  See, I'm not totally dogged out.  I still make my dog stay in her crate at night and while we are gone.  (at least when my husbands around...sometimes, when he's at work, and I'm only going to be gone for an hour...)

Okay, this time, dog be darned...I really have to move my leg.  I'm just going to do it, quick.  Like a bandaid.  She'll be over it in no time.  One, two, and it's done.  I tricked her.  I moved my leg before I got to three.  Ha.  She didn't even know what hit her, and she's readjusted and back to sleep. 

I might have to fire the painters.  We're having our house painted.  It's the first time we've hired out the task, and I gotta tell you, it's fabulous.  No hanging off ladders in the burning sun, or drizzling rain.  But yesterday, the painters assistant asked me what kind of a dog Frankie is.

I told him she's a mix.  Dachshund and Terrier.  Now you've all by now seen pictures of my dog.  She's not the most beautiful, but she is cute and adorable and completely loveable. 

"hmm," says he, pointing at my dog.  "See, that's why people should have their dogs spayed and neutered.  Cause that's what you get."

I smiled.  Cause I'm nice that way.  But inside, "SCUSE ME !!  DON'T BE DISSING MY DOG."  I'm just waiting for the perfect opportunity to slip a little dog doing at the base of his ladder.  I have plenty.  It won't be any trouble.  HA.  Take that, mister DOG DISSER.

btw, does anyone actually say "dissing" any more?  I didn't think so.

The Queen is Cool

While that line could totally refer to me.  Especially since my little daughter is also known as "The Beautiful Princess Samantha," which would of course, by default make me The Queen. 

The Queen in Question here, is my gal, Queen Elizabeth II.  QE I I'm not such a fan of.  She was kinda a stick in the mud, but QE II...well.

So first off, during WWII she was a mechanic.  Yup, that's right.  A mechanic, as in with tools and grease.  And she was a bonafide princess at the time.  Hanging out with the likes of Winston Churchill.  But she was a mechanic.  A princess mechanic.  Talk about taking one for the team. 

I watched this documentary about her several years ago.  This was back before Eugenie and Beatrice wore tacky attention grabbing fascinators (hats) to weddings.  They were little girls.  And their grandmother, the queen, was taking them and their cousins William and Harry for a pony ride at Balmoral Castle.  (you know, just like a regular grandma.  Pony rides at the Castle)  Nevertheless, she's explaining to the littlest one why she can't ride a pony yet.  She's doing this while she's walking alongside the children on their ponies, and while she's holding the hand of the little one, who's still too small to ride.  Then you hear the Her Royal Majesty the Queen of England say, "ouch, that's my foot you're standing on." 

Now there are all sorts of rules and pomp and circumstance about how one is to address Her Majesty, and how one is to behave in her presence.  Yet, once, many many years ago when she visited the United States, she went to the home of a single mom in a housing project. And the very excited and exuberant woman she visited was overcome and she full on HUGGED the Queen.  This is not done.  NO NO NO NO.  You do NOT HUG the Queen.  (It's actually for safety and health reasons these days.  I looked it up.  If you give a Queen a cold, she might not be able to go to her scheduled appearances, which would of course disappoint a whole bunch of people.)

But my favorite Queen of all time accepted the hug with a smile on her face.  She is classy that one.  Which I believe is an excellent quality to have in a Monarch. Ahem, Charles.

And today, when I went to check the news on line...cause that's what you do when you wake up at 5:00 AM - are you kidding me - and can't get back to sleep...there was another story about my Queen.  She's touring the Kingdom these days, celebrating her 60th year as the Queen.  A couple in Manchester heard the Queen was coming to town on their wedding day. So they sent an invite to their wedding over to the Queen.  And guess what?  She came.  She and Prince Phillip, her hubby, went to the wedding.  Her Majesty in a lovely pink queen frock and hat. 

So you can have your Dianas and Kates.  As for me, I'll take Elizabeth.  ( and the Queen Mum too, she was a spunky little spitfire, that one)

The conversation went something like this…

Brian:  7 years ago today you went into labor with Samantha.

Samantha:  What’s labor?

Mommy:  ummmm….

Seven years ago today, Samantha made her entrance into the world.  At 4:35 am.  After 13 hours of labor.  All 6 lbs 5 oz. of her.

On March 8, at about 2:30 in the afternoon, I had done all my chores for the day.  The older kids were already home from school and doing their older kid things.  I hadn’t been sleeping much at night, because the baby was practicing gymnastics each evening.  I have to say, it did feel like she was nailing her dismount though.  So that’s good.

At any rate, it was in short, a perfect nap storm.  I settled down on the futon I had put in the nursery.  Hmm, I’m surprisingly comfortable.  Weird.  I close my eyes.

“pop”  An actual audible pop.  My brain is confused.  My brain figures it out though when the fluid starts to flow.  Thank heavens I was wearing what turned out to be very absorbent corduroy maternity overalls.  And that’s all I’m going to say about that.  The rest I’ll leave to the imagination. 

No nap for me.  Much as I'm ready to have this pregnancy end, I'm a little bummed about missing my nap. Our older daughter, who was 14 at the time called her dad at work.  I went to change my clothes.  (when I came downstairs about 30 minutes later, the kids were cleaning the already perfectly cleaned kitchen…maybe I should have had them boil some water)

I hadn't felt any labor pains yet, but with all my amniotic fluid gone, the doc wanted me at the hospital asap.  Contractions started in the car (at rush hour mind you in Seattle area traffic) on the way to the hospital. 

We get to the hospital, and my husband wants to get all the stuff out of the car.  I want to get in a bed.  I give him the stink eye, and start walking with determination to the hospital. He decides he can get the bag later, and follows me in. 

Let me just add, when we went to childbirth class, we were all asked to describe what we wanted our birth experience to be like.  I’m afraid I didn’t win any points with the instructor when I announced I was there to learn about managing my pain until I was dilated enough for an epidural.

For some reason, the nurses were determined I should sit and bounce on the "Labor Ball" to relieve my “discomfort.”  I can't see how this will help, and I figured, “I’m in labor in the hospital…I should be in bed.” 

I won. 

Finally, around 9:00 pm I get my epidural.  And I also get my nap.  Around midnight, I start feeling pain.  It’s mild, so I don’t worry about it, but by 1:00 am, it’s crazy bad.  I'm in transitional labor. Seems my epidural shifted, and they are going to have to re-do it.
 
At around 2:00 am, it’s replaced, but I’m experiencing what they call “a window” of pain.  There’s one little spot where the epidural isn’t working.  So they blast me with more epidural medicine.  Ahhhh.

The nurse says, “let’s see if you can push.”  I push, and she’s happy.  I think she’s going to go away, and let me rest, but noooo.  She makes me keep pushing. She was really nice too.  When I would whine about needing a break, she’d let me skip a contraction.

But after two hours of pushing and taking breaks, there was still no baby.  The nice nurse went to call the doctor, and tell him it’s going to be awhile, but that we may need to consider using the vacuum extractor.

While she’s gone, Nurse Kratchet comes in.  She’s having none of my whining, and tells me I can and will push and push and push. And in two contractions, Samantha is crowned.

Now all of a sudden, they don’t want me to push; the doctors not even in the hospital yet.  So I stopped (epidural lets you do that – cause I’m not feeling a thing.)  My body has another plan.  With each contraction, she scootches out a little more, then a little more.  When her head is almost out, the nurses decide they need to go for it. 

The doctor arrives just in time to deliver the placenta.  All I can say, is he must have needed his moment in the sun, because he hoisted the thing up by the umbilical cord and SHOWED IT TO ME!!  He TOLD me, “this is a great looking placenta.”  I’m not kidding.   Now I didn’t go through all this to spend any time admiring what appeared to me to be a “liver on a rope.” I hope I didn't hurt his feelings.

And then…this moment happened…

Happy Birthday Samantha.  xoxox

Lesson from the doghouse

Having a dog is teaching me all sorts of things.  My training is well underway.  We are now ending the first week of puppy ownership, and we’ve had two whole days now of no accidents !!! 

Since Frankie is still a puppy, albeit an older puppy, she still needs eyes on her at all times she’s not crated.  This means of course, the baby gate has been resurrected.  I’m flashing back to toddler time. 

I’ve discovered, I’ve been living life rather haphazardly.  Doing a little of this, a little of that, never quite completely finishing anything, before something else demanded my attention, (like the internet).  Miss Frankie, however, has required I be more focused on my tasks.  It’s a lot easier to block out distractions when I’m laden with guilt about my adorable puppy being crated so I can clean the bathroom. 

Yes, mommy guilt apparently extends to puppy mommies.  But sometimes, though I’m not a big fan of guilt in general, if mommy guilt is channeled into a positive and motivating force…well why not?  Things are getting done more efficiently, and I find I have more time to relax and play with the puppy. 

And she’s so sweet.  (I may have mentioned that before) 

This puppy is really kind of an ego boost as well.  Nothing like being greeted by the wagging tail.  Wagging butt, truth be told.  I highly recommend being adored.  It’s great.
 
And now for something completely different.  My six year old had an assignment, “If I were President of the United States I would...make a rule that everyone must have a pet.  And, only be able to eat one piece of candy a day to be healthy.  And, only one hour of play time in the snow."

A trick to get the house cleaned

We are getting a dog.  We finally made the decision yesterday.  The hunt is now on for the perfect pound puppy (no, not puppy, exactly - but a rescue dog that's been fostered and housebroken )  We are meeting our first candidate Wednesday evening.  Very exciting.  And yes, the dog we are looking for is a small dog of the lap variety.  A "useless" dog, if you will.  But cute, snuggly, wiggly, fits into our lifestyle, and makes small poop.

The kids spent the morning "dog proofing" downstairs.  I told my youngest to be on the lookout for anything of hers a dog might chew up.  You'd be amazed at what sort of motivation that gave. In fact, my daughter was pestering me to pick up my stuff as well.  She even used the old, "Mommy, if you leave your stuff laying around, it tells me you don't really want it anymore."  Hmm, gonna have to reassert my alpha female with her, I see.  And it was only a book I left on the coffee table.  Sheesh, lighten up kid.


Having this dog might also help loosen Samantha's stranglehold on "Baby" and "Silkie".  I love lovies as much as the next mom, and I think they serve a great purpose, but at almost seven, I'm thinking they should really be more of a bedtime thing.  Baby and Silkie are seriously starting to show their age.  They've been around since shortly after her birth, and have been boon companions ever since.  Baby recently underwent a stuffing transplant operation, and is looking much better, but Silkie...poor guy.  Silkie is frayed at the edges, and is more knobby and pilly than silky.  I'm not sure how many more washings he's got left in him.  I'm already washing him in the delicate cycle in a lingerie bag.

I wonder why we gave Silkie a male persona?  I mean, he's silky, and he's pink.  Or grayish pink now.  Still, not really characteristics one associates with a male.  Except with all the pilling on him, he does sort of have a five o'clock shadow.  Besides, after all these years, changing his gender on him would be rather confusing.  Then he would have to undergo extensive counseling....Better to just accept the fact that Silkie is a sissy boy and love him for what he is.   

So a dog ought to make life more interesting, and provide for lots of good blog material in the coming months.  I can't wait to go to obedience school, and make fun of the things the trainers say !!!

Love, Love, Love....

I can't tell you how many songs are running through my head this Valentines Day.  Songs about love.  Yet, though I love my husband so so so so so much, and I still think he's really cute, and really wonderful, and really everything, today I find myself applying the love songs to my friends.

I've finally lived in one place for more than ten years.  This is a huge record for me.  Prior to this, from the time I was a young teenager, I've never lived anywhere for more than three years.

Now I live in a town where I always run into someone I know, pretty much wherever I go.  I have official "girlfriends." 

Girlfriends who rallied around me when my mom was diagnosed with cancer and when she died two months later.  They brought us meals, they sent encouraging notes, they took care of my little daughter, so I could be with mom.

Girlfriends who aren't afraid to get goofy.

Girlfriends who like coffee.

Girlfriends who work out, and don't bug me cause I really don't.

Girlfriends who are ok with eating the organic health food I have at our house.

Girlfriends who are gabby.

So, "To all the girls I've loved before....I'm glad you came along, I dedicate this song," to my girlfriends.

The beauty of a bookmark

Guess what I discovered this weekend, while cleaning out my office.  (still working on it....it's gonna take some time)  A cache of bookmarks - that's what. 

There's the one someone made for me, with a picture of my husband and I at the beach, looking particularly in love.

There's the bookmarks from different retreats I've been on. 

There's some freebee bookmarks from bookstores, and a couple of just because bookmarks I've probably gotten in my  Christmas stocking over the years. 

I wonder though, why I found these in a box on a shelf?  Shouldn't they be, oh I don't know, in a book?  Marking something like, oh I don't know, where I should start reading again.

Heaven knows, I'm reading at least 4 books at any given time, in addition to the instant download gratification books I'm reading on my electronic e-readie gizmo thing-a-mabob.  ( I did discover, when the power is out, and your e-reader's battery dies, it's good to have a physical book backup)

Here's what the books I'm currently reading are marked with:

• Last weeks grocery list
• A receipt from the paint store dated Mar 2010
• Laying open, spine up, on the nightstand
• The instructions for my new alarm clock
• a pen.
• a business card from a cutie little art gallery.

In ten minutes, all those are going to be replaced with my actual in fact bookmarks.  (though, the art gallery business card is really pretty)  And I will have acheived two of my goals.

• Not be such a hoarder of stuff I never use
• Surrounding myself only with things that make me happy.

And these pretty bookmarks, make me happy. 

Tickled Pink, and all kinds of other colors

I bought this book at Half-Price Books today.  For $3.99 plus tax.  Why?  Well, it's certainly not cause I want to or plan to do any "Landscape Drawing in Pencil." 

You see, I think it was sometime after my grandpa came home from serving on a destroyer in the South Pacific in WWII.  He wanted to work on his drawing skills.  My grandma said he went to the library for several days with his drawing pencils and practiced. 

He came home with several wonderful pencil drawings, some of which my grandma had framed.  Four of them hung over the sofa in their living room, until my grandma passed away 17 years ago.  Then my mom got two, and my aunt got the other two. 

A few years ago, my cousin rejoined the sets and had really good copies made for all five of the grandkids.  I now have my set framed and hanging throughout my house. 

Today, I was looking for a book on drawing flowers, because I want to design a header for this blog that includes pansies.   I love pansies. 

I pulled "Landscape drawing in pencil" off the shelf, thinking there might be some pansies in there.  (there aren't)  but right away on the cover, I saw the boat drawing that I have hanging in my entryway.  I flipped through,

and there was the cottage with the little girl, which hangs in my daughters bedroom

then I found the windmill,

and finally the covered bridge, which hang in our bedroom.

All four of the pictures.  All meticulously re-drawn by my grandfather in the 1940's from a book he found in the library.  This book.  Originally printed in 1936, and reprinted in 2006, and now in my hand from Half-Price Books in 2012. 

Wow !!