Where Oh Where Has My Little Dog Gone

I have a wee tiny doggie IV in my leg.

I gave my dog a bath and groomed him last week.  Afterward I let him air dry outside in the sun and in doing so, forgot to put his collar back on.  Since he's a rather fluffy dog, I didn't notice his collar missing.  It has a habit of disappearing into the fluff around his neck.

Fast forward to today when we received a call from a concerned neighbor.  Apparently someone had rescued a dog from our street that matched Parker's description.  He'd been missing for 12 hours and we hadn't even noticed.  Mainly BECAUSE WE ARE TERRIBLE, TERRIBLE PEOPLE. You see, we'd gone to bed after a late evening with friends and hadn't bothered to be sure the dog was sleeping in his bed before we turned in for the night.  In our defense, we assumed he was in the back yard (we have a doggie door, so he comes and goes as he pleases.).

While we were happily at dinner with our friends last night, our neighbor was rushing Parker to the emergency vet because he was discovered laying in the middle of the street and she assumed he'd been hit by a car.  In reality, he'd suffered a heat stroke while running around trying to get back in our yard (once we'd left for our friend's house, we closed the garage door which prevented him access to his doggie door.)  His temperature was 106.7 when he arrived at the vet. 

When I went to claim him, the folks at the vet clinic kept referring to him as "the stray".  God, it killed me to hear that.  Poor Parker.

The bill for the overnight stay was $500.  Which is more than I make in two weeks' time working at my part-time job. 

All because I didn't put his stupid collar back on.

This is Gross. You Shouldn't Read It.

Dont' let the cuteness fool you.

Sometimes I am AMAZED as how far I've come.  Or fallen, as the case may be.

Take today.  Paige left a specimen in the potty that was, well, it was beyond description.  And instead of thinking "OMG that is totally disgusting", I immediately thought "thank goodness it's Saturday and Dave is home".

All I cared about was a witness.

What the heck is wrong with me?  Motherhood makes disgusting frat boys out of all of us. 

Dave obliged to come and observe the, uh, item.  He then picked Paige up and hugged her while saying "My goodness sugar, I bet you feel MUCH BETTER".

And I'll bet she's lighter too.  By several pounds.

*gag*

Last of First

Today was William's last day of first grade. 

On the way to school this morning the children were absorbed in their music (Phineaus and Ferb soundtrack. Oy.) and their magazines (Boys Life and Highlights) so I had time to weep quietly in the front seat while I gazed at my boy there in the back seat.  All knobbly-kneed with grown-up front teeth that don't quite fit his face. 

He's a kid now.  A real-live Big Boy. 

I wept because I like him so much and I wish I could breathe him in way deep in my lungs and hold him there.  Right there where he is now.  In this very moment when he wants to know the names of all of the poisonous spiders and whether there really ARE aliens.  When his heart is so curious and pure and hasn't known what it is to experience tragedy.

My hopes for him are so big.  More than anything, though,  I hope someday he will know - really know - that he was a dream I had that came true.  A wonderful dream that I get to live every day. I hope he knows that he is my privilege.

Happy Last-Day-of-First-Grade my big boy.

My gosh I love this kid.

The Secret Garden

Paige approached me today and asked if I would read her a story.  And let me just stop right here and say that there is almost nothing sweeter to me than a small child asking for "a story" while simultaneously backing slowly toward your lap in anticipation of being lifted up and snuggled. 

Which is why I agreed instantly before realizing what book she was holding.  She'd smuggled "her" copy of The Secret Garden off of the shelf where it has lived since last June when Susan gave it to her (she exclaimed: "Paige should have this book since my house is full of boys who will not appreciate it"). 

Paige takes the book down fairly regularly and looks at the few pictures within.  Sometimes she even "reads" aloud - inventing wild stories about the character on the cover.  But I've never actually read it to her because she can barely sit still for "Goodnight Moon", so I know she's not ready for an actual novel.

But today I decided I'd just start and see how long she could stand to sit there.  Turns out, a whole chapter!  Although I don't think she was really absorbing the story.  Really she was just enjoying my voice and my lap.   Which was, honestly, wonderful. (Let's not stop and ponder how little time I have left where she will happily sit in my lap.  DON'T GO THERE.)

The reading was great, except for one small problem. 

You see, *I* have never actually read The Secret Garden.  I don't know why I haven't, but there you go.  And when I read that first chapter I was completely drawn in.  I am in love with this book!  And I know every other girl in the entire world has read this and is now rolling her eyes and saying "DUH".

And now I'm wondering what OTHER books I've missed.  So hit me: what are your childhood favorites? 

iPhoning it in

It's 11:17pm and I'm here in bed wondering if it's better if I just don't write tonight.  What can I possibly say?  Shouldn't I just go to sleep?

These days I'm torn between wanting to keep my blogging habit going and wondering if it's bad to sometimes "phone it in" by posting minimal (and sometimes awful) writing.

What say you, dear reader?  Are you annoyed by frequent, yet lazy writing?  Would you rather read occasional well-written posts? 

And here's the real thing: sometimes I think the only way to get good at writing is, well, TO WRITE.  Often. 

So maybe I'll just keep doing that.  I'll just keep writing.  And sometimes that means I'll have to phone in it (or iPhone it in, as the case may be). 

Take today!  Today all I have to report is that I worked. And I ate lunch with Aunt Susie.

Oh! And I watched William impress his classmates with his first ever diorama. 

I will never hear the word "diorama" and not think "diarrhea".  I'm sorry.  I can't help myself.

William used grocery sacks for tree trunks, moss for leaves, and he attached lots of rainforest animals WITH SCOTCH TAPE.  It was atrocious.  Which made it all the cuter.

I wish you could see the tape.  God bless his little soul.

His last day of school is Wednesday.  Man, I'm going to miss having a first-grader.  This has just been the best year ever.

Reunited



Hayley and me circa 1992.  Please note the wild pants and the old cars in the background.  Also, why is Hayley holding a hanger? 

 

I graduated from high school in 1992.  That was 20 years ago, y'all! (Yes, yes, I know some of you WERE BORN IN THE NINETIES.  Just hush now.) This means that, in just a few short weeks, there will be a reunion.

And I desperately do NOT want to go.

I hated hated HATED high school.  At the time, my parents had divorced and were busy wrapped up in their new and exciting dating lives.  (They were MY AGE then.  HOLY COW I AM OLD).  At home I felt ignored and sad and lost. 

At school, I was busy dating All the Wrong Boys.  Which is good, in hindsight, because by the time I met The Right Boy, I recognized him for what he was. 

I also got real REAL busy perfecting my eating disorder in high school.  Go me!

What I'm saying is: that time, twenty years ago, is NOT a time I wish to revisit.  For any reason.  Ever.

And I felt exactly the same when it came time for my 10 year reunion.  But I forced myself to go, and I was glad I went.  We were all 28 years old.  Most of us had gotten married.  A few of us had children.  But it was nice to catch up and see where life had taken my classmates.  I genuinely liked my classmates.  Even back in high school. 

But now we have Facebook.

I *know* where life has taken my classmates in the last 10 years because I see it posted nearly daily!  So-and-so got divorced.  Miss Priss turned out fat.  Mr. Handsome has lost all his hair.  Ms. Grumpy had 17 children.  Blahblahblah.

So what's the point in going?  Hasn't Facebook done what reunions were intended to do? 

What about you?  Have you been to a reunion post-Facebook era?  What did you get out of it that couldn't be gotten from Ye Olde Computer?

Sloppy Chic

So neighbor Susan has started a "30-Day Get Dressed" movement on her blog. (www.workingcloset.com) Which sort of makes it sound like we are all otherwise running around nekkid.  No. Worse! We're running around in our yoga pants, or worse still: we're leaving the house IN OUR PAJAMAS. (Not that *I* would ever do such a thing. Ok, I would totally do such a thing) So I accepted her challenge and have been dutifully documenting my "get dressed" moments, and have been tagging them properly with the #getdressed hash tag. Go me! But here's the truth: there is always one day each week when I INTENTIONALLY plan *not* to see another human being. Nor do I leave the house. And on those days, I shower, I put on my most comfortable yoga pants and my squishiest tennis shoes. And do you know what? I think it makes me MORE productive.  What about you? Do you have planned sloppy days?