House Dumb

Well, we did it. We all survived track out. My grandmother, Mams, made a guest appearance for a week here and that provided PLENTY of blog material... Honestly, my head is still spinning from some of those stories. But first, last week was Bonus's first week back at school. He is a big second grader; which apparently means he has to dress nicer than those white-trash kids in first grade. He actually expects me to iron his clothes. IRON.HIS.CLOTHES. I don't even iron Dorkfish's clothes (a daily power struggle around here...)



Deuce started last week as well. But he only went on Monday as part of their staggered entry program for kindergartners. Today was the BIG!DAY! for him. He chose his outfit, which included a button up shirt, denim shorts and a pair of green skull and crossbones socks. The hair, you ask? Yes, it was spiked in a faux-hawk. He boarded the school bus with his brother at his side and a spring in his step. One can only pray he returns home with a tiny bit of that left.



I am sure you all are asking the question that every single person has asked me lately... "Amo, what are you going to DO with YOURSELF?!"

Listen people, I lead a very exciting life. Just this morning I was taking a shower and pondering big things such as, "Why does the dog hair pile up at the baseboards and float through the house like tumbleweeds on the prairie?", "Does the roughness of your tongue determine exactly how many licks it would take to get to the center of a tootsie pop?" and "Is my left arm cleaner than my right because I always wash it first in the shower?"

Exactly when do you think I have time for a job or anything else to keep my mind occupied and sharp?! Pffft.

So, to celebrate my First Day of Freedom in Seven Years (Freedom Fest for short), I went to the dentist. I know, exciting eh? But to be honest, this is the first time I have been able to go with out planning it around a four-hour, three-day-a-week preschool or bribing a friend to watch them. So, yes, it was kind of exhilarating. Don't worry, the FOUR SHOTS OF NOVOCAINE took care of that moment of pleasure, but didn't damper the Freedom Fest spirits! Apparently, my body metabolizes novocaine rather quickly, so by the time I left there, I was numb up to my eye sockets and have a new appreciation for Tammy Faye Bakker.

(By the way, a mango-strawberry smoothie isn't the best choice for one who's lips won't allow them to use a straw and the cold sensitivity is of light-socket proportions. justsoyouknow)

Determined to not loose all of my day, I went to the bank to make a deposit. Again, the first time without a kid in tow. As I sat down at the desk of the branch manager, I immediately apologized for my lisp and assured her it was because of the novocaine and had absolutely nothing to do with alcohol or my kid's absence. Her jaw dropped, her eyes became huge and she said, "What are you doing driving?!"

*blink, blink*

(This may have been the point where my brain exploded...)

Gaining all my composure and trying to hold back all of my smart ass I said, "Because I don't usually drive with my mouth?..."

So this, my friends, has convinced me that staying at home during the day will in fact NOT make one 'house dumb'.

Now where are those damn bonbons?...

Five Lessons from Week One

Week ONE of vacation:

1. Humidifiers are not toys.

a. Humidifiers can catch on fire for unexplained reasons.

b. If the flames coming out of the humidifier don't burn you, the steam will.

c. Please don't act surprised when mommy is upset because she had to run naked through the house to the sound of "MOMMY! THE HUMIDIFIER IS ON FIIIIIIRRRRREEE" and she arrived scared and angry. She was angry because she was scared. The fact that she had to make that 'do I believe him and leave the bathroom with no clothes on' decision was also part of the angry.


2. Smores can be made in the microwave.

a. The directions should be followed closely. There is a HUGE difference between 15 seconds and 30 seconds. (That HUGE difference translates into saucer-sized marshmallows and chocolate oozing everywhere.)

b. The oozy chocolate and exploding marshmallow are quite hot. Not nearly as hot as the flaming humidifier, though.

c. One should really save smores for the campfire so the flying, burning marshmallow can be enjoyed in the safety of the woods.


3. When mom says, "JUST GIVE ME FIVE MINUTES OF PEACE FORTHELOVEOFGODANDALLTHATISHOLY!" She doesn't mean "Please come ask me when I am fixing breakfast/snack/lunch/snack/dinner/snack/dessert" or "helping you find underwear". Mommy's vacation doesn't start until you go back to school. If you keep bugging mommy she will continue to find unpleasant chores for you to do.

a. Cleaning your room is not an unpleasant chore. You made it; you clean it. This rule applies as soon as you are no longer in diapers.


4. When you are asked to clean the toilet, do not tell mommy you will after breakfast/snack/lunch/snack/dinner/snack/dessert. (See example 3.)

a. Yes, you are correct in your assumption that cleaning the toilet is your unpleasant chore. No, you are not allowed to complain any longer.

b. If you continue to complain, there will be more unpleasant chores ahead. The marshmallow explosion in the microwave is looming, after all.


5. Spending the entire day in your pajamas is perfectly acceptable on vacation.

a. However, when your mom is stopped in the yard by the neighbor and she says, "Oh, please excuse my outfit. We are cleaning today/washing clothes today/bathing dogs today", do not throw her under the bus by saying, "But you said we didn't have to dress since we weren't going anywhere!" She will find another unpleasant chore. I promise.

A (Bent) 'Tail' of Two Puppies: Part 3

Despite my initial concern that another puppy would increase my workload (IE potty training) exponentially, I simply had to have him. After all, who could pass up ANOTHER! SNUGLY! PUPPY!?!


Welcome Flash!
(Thunder, curled up behind him, is obviously happy with the new addition.)

But I kinda forgot to let Dorkfish know that I was going to get the other one. I mean, he had already agreed that it would be a GREAT IDEA probably be okay to bring him home. Ironically, I remembered this little detail as soon as Sheshe asked me what the hell I was thinking...

So when Dorkfish came home, I did the only logical thing. I hid Thunder in the bathroom and acted like Flash was Thunder. I mean, eventually he would probably notice we had two puppies, but he does work A LOT.

After all, their markings are very similar with their white paws and white marks on their necks.


Thunder is on the left and Flash is on the right.
(And yes, they do cuddle like this constantly.)

The only big difference is that Thunder is fawn colored and Flash is red. Oh, and the little 'bent tail' thingy... But otherwise, they're almost like twins! Heh....

He had been home about twenty minutes when he did a double take and said, "Hey, I thought your were gray..." BUSTED. So I brought Thunder out and he was overcome with joy, giddy, less angry than I had imagined.

But over the past few months, he has really taken to the little guys. I mean, he hardly complains when our "special dog", Thunder, poops in his closet. The crate training is finally going better too. The first night, they both cried like babies. Dorkfish wasn't nearly as heart-broken as I was over the sadness emanating from the tiny box. "Can't you do something about that?" he said in his overly sensitive voice. "I certainly can. I can put them in bed with us and they will hush immediately," I responded, because I am an enabler a great dog trainer. "Don't even think about it. Can't you put a blanket over their crate or something?" he growled. "Um, I hate to break it to you, but they are puppies, not parrots."

The rest of the house is adjusting well too. Molly even shared her bed!



All together now..."AWWWWW...."

But only that night. I am pretty sure she hates puppy breath.


Yes, she is in their bed which is half the size of hers...

In all, we are all loving the new additions. Even My Beesh can't help but snuggle with Flash!


Although he hates it when I call the puppy by his full name, "Flash Dance with the Fancy Pants." snicker

A (Bent) 'Tail' of Two Puppies: Part 2

Out of all the puppies in the litter, I knew Thunder Pup was the perfect fit for us as soon as I saw his bent tail.




Apparently, it was wrapped around his leg in the womb and the vertebrae in those two spots are completely twisted. His bent tail does nothing more than give him character and in my opinion, makes him a perfect addition to the quirky two and four leggers we have around here.

Not long after bringing him home, I noticed he seemed to have some vision problems. He would miss balls thrown, run into furniture, etc. After a thorough examination by both my vet and a canine ocular specialist (yeah, those aren't cheap), we found out his ocular nerves are undersized thus resulting in poor vision. In his right eye, he can only see light, no movement, and the vision is poor in his left eye. Apparently, this is a pretty rare condition and since the puppies are born with poor vision, they act like normal puppies. In fact, if you didn't know about it, you would just assume he was clumsy and a 'very cautious runner' as he totally runs like his emergency break is stuck. Fortunately, the vision won't get worse over time and Thunder Pup doesn't seem to be bothered by it at all. So truthfully, this was good news to me.

Before we even got home from the veterinary hospital, the breeder was calling me. The veterinarian had called her to let her know one of her dogs was a carrier for the disorder and she was mortified. Honestly, I believe she was more upset than anyone else. After all, only in the Davis household would we end up with a half-blind sight hound. Typical, really.

After a long conversation, the breeder tells me that she wants to give me Thunder Pup's brother, who she had kept to breed and show, as a 'helper' for Thunder Pup. My initial response, was 'no way'. I already had enough work with my 'dependent puppy' and couldn't envision taking on another one. After all, Thunder had become a constant companion:


Yes, he is sitting on my feet as I use the bathroom.



I don't think he liked the water, but the thought of being on the OTHER! SIDE! OF! THE! GLASS! was just too horrible.

He also spent most of the winter riding in our clothing:


He seemed to prefer my puffy coat over all the others.

He wasn't even picky on who's coat he was in:


I never said My Beesh had good taste in sports teams... *snicker*

But in all, he was fitting in to the Outdoordogs household perfectly.


Dorkfish was actually more excited than he looked.

In fact, I think he was my cure for mono.


Sorry for the fuzzy photo, but the picture would have been just as bad if it had been in focus.

But honestly, could this household really handle ANOTHER PUPPY?!

To be continued...

A (Bent) 'Tail' of Two Puppies: Part 1

After my mom passed away, I decided that the next dog we owned would be an Italian Greyhound. Mom had owned two and they were the best dogs. (Okay, one had health problems and the other preferred to potty inside.) But their dispositions and attitude and cuddlebility (totally a word, hush) was just perfect. This would be our next pet.

I am a firm believer that there are too many homeless pets out there and adoption is typically the best option. However, the last dog we rescued was a German Shepherd who was terrified of kids and being left alone. Not really a good fit for a growing, busy family. Also, considering my mother's pet store (probably puppy-mill) dogs both had health issues, I decided that it would suit our family best to find a local breeder. When I found that the most recent litter had been born the day after my mom's birthday, I was convinced it was time.

Time for the scheming to begin. Heh.

So, I casually mentioned it to Dorkfish. "Hey, baby, don't you think Molly would be happier with a companion?" I would ask while batting my eye lashes.

Sadly, his response was always the same, "When Molly dies, we aren't getting any more pets."

Fortunately for us, I am an optomist and realized that what he was really saying was, "We better get another dog before she dies because we will be too forlorn to get one after." It's a good thing I can translate 'man talk'.

I had already gotten my animal lover, Bonus, excited about 'helping Molly by getting her a puppy' so that was sorted. Deuce hasn't ever really taken notice of animals, so we left him out of the equation. I even took Bonus to the pet supply store so we could discuss all the things a puppy would need. As we walked in the door, he spotted the kitten adoption area. Immediately, he was struck by a little, black cat that he just knew Molly would love. Ironically, this little encounter sealed my 'gotta getta puppy' campaign...

As soon as Dorkfish got home that afternoon, I cautioned him that Bonus had found a kitten that he REALLYREALLYREALLYREALLY WANTED and to proceed with caution. When Bonus came in and began his kitten begging, Dorkfish said the phrase I know he now wishes he could take back, "Bonus, I would rather have a puppy than a kitten." (In case you need translation, that means 'I want a puppy'.)

SOLD!

The next step was to figure out how to pay for this puppy and smuggle it into the house. Ironically, this step worked itself out when I told my bestie "My Beesh" as I lovingly call him, that I wanted to get the family a puppy for Christmas. I'm still not sure if he bought the puppy because he loves us and considers us his family or to get 'one up' on Dorkfish in their 'I got you first' game... Regardless, the 'gotta getta puppy' plan all came together nicely and I picked up 'Thunder Pup'! Our first 'new addition'...



To be continued...

200th Post! (But really, who cares?...)

You know how organized, well-planned, REAL bloggers other bloggers do a GRAND! GIVEAWAY! or offer a SPECIAL! DEAL! for their 200th post?

Yeah, I ain't them.

And that's why you love me.

So, my 200th post is going to be about sick kid crap from this week.

But at least it will be funny...

Remember last winter when the ENTIRE HOUSE contracted mono except Deuce? Yeah...we had a mono scare this week with him. Fortunately, it turned out to be most likely be a coxsackie virus. (Say that without snickering. Yes, I'm 12.) I think my favorite part of the entire adventure was when Dorkfish tried to convince Deuce to eat dinner by telling him he wouldn't get better without eating and that meant he would have to go back to the doctor to get blood drawn. Honestly, the kid was 12 hours away from that exact fate, yet I had managed to keep him from realizing it. Until. Then. (In case you're wondering, he did not eat his dinner. But he was terrified of going back to the doctor...naturally.)

The positive side to his week-long illness is being surrounded by concerned friends. For example, when I told my friend Carebear we were concerned he had mono and couldn't figure out how he didn't get it when we were all sick she said, "Well, it says something about his immune system. You better get him in boys scouts cause if we have a plague that wipes out all human kind, he is gonna live a few months by himself...he should know how to shoot a squirrel." (Touching, isn't it?)

Now that we are almost twenty-four hours fever-free, I feel confident in complaining that I only have FIVE MORE DAYS of him being in preschool and this whole sick thing has cost me TWO DAYS OF FREEDOM. Selfish, possibly. Self-preservation and his own safety, ABSOLUTELY.

You Can't Fake the 'Look'

In a hilarious twist and a perfect ending to the 'tooth saga', Bonus brought home his Spring pictures yesterday.

Let me just warn you, the apple doesn't fall far from the Dorkfish Tree...



But he obviously was paying attention when I showed him how to hide the beaver teeth.