The first step was to recognize I have a problem.

1. I have admitted that I am powerless over the disaster that is my front lawn—that my lawn has become totally and completely unmanageable.
2. I have come to believe that something somewhere greater than myself could restore my lawn to green.
3. I have made a decision to turn my will and my life with regard to lawn care over to the care of Scott’s Turf Builder.
4. I have made a searching and fearless moral inventory of the all of the weeds in my front lawn.
5. I have admitted to the home owner’s association, my neighbors, and my facebook friends the exact nature of my wrongs (see photos).
6. I am entirely ready to have Scott’s Turf Builder remove all these defects of my lawn.
7. I have humbly asked (ok, begged and prayed for) Scott’s Turf Builder to remove my lawn’s shortcomings.
8. I have made a list of all neighbors I have harmed with our lousy front lawn appearance, and have become willing to make amends to them all.
9. I have tried to made direct amends to such neighbors wherever possible, except when to do so would cause them to actually have to look at my front lawn while I apologized.
10. I have continued to take personal inventory, and commit that when I allow new weeds to promulgate, to promptly kill them.
11. I have sought through hard labor, blood, sweat and tears, to improve my lawn’s contact with Scotts Turf Builder, praying that it works, and the elbow grease required to carry that out.
12. I, having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps, will try to carry this message to other lawn offenders, and to also practice these principles in my side and back yards.

Today we mopped all the floors and rearranged the living room.  This was Offspring's idea.  A bit odd, but as he pointed out, I can sit in the morning with my coffee and contemplate the birds out the window.  I've had worse ideas ..... 

Steaks, robotics, and the van breaking down

So Friday we went to Angus Barn for our anniversary dinner with my parents.  It was their 45th, our 6th.  That made a combined 51 years of marriage at one table.  We sat at a table for four that was very close to a table for 2, in a little alcove area.  For the first half of dinner, an older couple sat at the table for 2 and I kid you not: said nothing the entire time.  Nothing.  NOTHING!  I started getting the giggles about it but managed to squelch them.  I mean who orders their food, eats it, pays and leaves, all the while saying not a single word to each other.  Not one word.  Ok, not to beat a dead horse, but they just sat there and stared at each other.  It was like a twisted game of verbal chicken, but neither swerved.  All I could think was perhaps after 60+ years of marriage (that would be my guess), one runs out of things to say???  It was downright weird ... and funny! 

The next two people to sit there - most importantly, spoke to one another, and secondly, were quite friendly.  We struck up a conversation with them and turns out they were up from Atlanta to see their son participate in a robotics competition the next day at Dorton.  It sounded very interesting (especially to a 10 year old boy), so we exchanged numbers and promised to see them the next day.  

Then we left.  Or rather, tried to leave.  We got out to the van, got Wheeler loaded in, strapped down and then .... tick tick tick.  Tick tick tick tick tick tick tick.  Van wouldn't start.  Absolutely zilch power in the battery.  Great......  The valet guy went and got someone to try to jump us, but that didn't work either.  It was around then that I remembered I didn't have Wheeler's manual chair in the van.  This is important because it was looking increasingly likely that the van would need to be towed, and a) he can't be towed IN the van (against all the rules for towing joints) and b) that 500 pound behemoth doesn't fit in any other normal vehicle, so he'd have to drive his chair home.  Except we were 15 miles from home.  Worst case I (with ALOT OF HELP) could get him out of the power chair, out of the van and into the manual chair, and from that into a regular car, since the manual chair folds down.  But first someone would have to fetch the chair from our garage instead of the back of the van (WHERE WE ALWAYS STORE IT FOR EXACTLY THIS REASON), drive it to us, etc.  

Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick.  My dad calls the towing company.  I start dialing the phone to call Offspring's dad to see if he'll get the manual chair from our house and bring it there.  Just then .... cough cough sputter.  Ah ha!  It didn't start, but it was sounding more promising.  We all hang up our phone calls, cross all available appendages and try again.  Cough cough, varoommmmmm.  YAY!  It started.  We drove home, and we were supposed to stop by to get Offspring on the way back, but my dad and Wheeler both suggested we not press our luck and just go home first.  The speedometer starting bouncing around erractically, the odometer stopped working, and it shifted itself into a low gear all by itself while driving down the freeway.  And it's a good thing we did - we pulled in the driveway and it literally died 10 feet in off the street.  Now THAT is some kinda timing.  

The next day we went to the robotics competition and found the people we had dinner next to.  They were really really nice and explained the whole thing to us - and as it turned out, their son's team won the whole shebang!  These were the regionals and they will go to the nationals in St. Louis at the end of this month.  I'll be sure to follow the results on their website.  It was alot of fun watching it, Offspring was totally awestruck.  I am going to see if I can sign him up for the junior Lego league.

And now ask me .... go on..... "have you put the manual chair in the van yet?"..

No.

I am an idiot!

Offspring's choir concert

Last night Offspring was in the school choir concert.  He chose to be in the choir as its optional, which surprised (and delighted) me.  First they played 3 songs on the recorder.  Hot Cross Buns, Merrily We Roll Again and some other song I didn't recognize.  Then there was a "challenge" song that only the best recorder players got to play.  I assumed he wouldn't be in the challenge one, but damn if he wasn't.  I was really proud of him.  The funny part is that the challenge song was ..... wait for it .... Bad Bad Leroy Brown, which completely cracked me up.  However, laughing hysterically is generally frowned upon during a 4th grade concert, so I had to stifle myself.  Then the choir sang 5 songs, which was really really cute.  And no, I will not subject anyone to listening to it, although I did of course video it.  The best part was seeing him all dressed up in black pants, brand new black dress shoes, and a white dress shirt.  He looked SO cute.  Man, I love that kid. 

Some days it is good to be a dog

Brazilian Knot Bread - Gluten Free

1-1/2 cups tapioca flour (look carefully in the flour aisle or gluten free section)

1/3 cup oil

2/3 cup milk

1 egg

dash salt

1 cup packed shredded cheese (any type, I used a colby jack mix)

Mix in a high speed blender (think margueritas) for 1-2 min until silky smooth.  Grease a mini muffin pan and pour the liquid (which will be very very thin) up to the top of each cup.  Put in a 400 degree oven for 15-20 minutes.  And the fun part is watching them bake - they will first form a sink hole, then they will start to puff and puff and puff and PUFF ... and some will fall over, making it look like a knot of sorts.  And be sure to make a double batch as they are DELICIOUS.  They have a truly unique stretchy taste, almost a chewy bagel consistency.  

Oh go on now, try them.  You'll like them.  And report back if you do. 

A misadventure

So. 

Last night, Wheeler needed to be pulled up in the bed - with our bed it moves up and down and tilts feet or bed up.  Normally I just lay the bed flat, stand with my feet on either side of his shoulder, grab him by the arm pits and just pull him up.  But he hadn't had a shower in 4 days and honestly, he stunk.  So I decided to trendelenberg the head down and feet up at a really steep angle so that I could just grab the bedpad under him and pull him.  When I do that, it takes barely any energy at all, and I don't have to grab his pits.  I began tilting the head down when I heard a very loud hiss, which was shortly followed by a bunch of yellow powder billowing out from behind my half of the bed.  You know how time slows down when something traumatic happens?  It was like that - it seems like it took me forever to put together what happened - which was that I had hit the fire extinguisher and it was spraying yellow fire repellent powder EVERYWHERE. 

I ran behind the bed as fast as I could, grabbed it and stopped it from blowing.  Then I coughed, choked and sputtered from a large portion of it going down into my lungs.  If I die of lung cancer I'll know why.  Thank god Offspring wasn't here, with his asthma that would have been an even bigger disaster than it was already.  Then, I just stood there and saw that the all the air in the room was a haze of particles.  I ran to the bathroom and got a wet washcloth, which I put over Wheeler's mouth and nose - with his severely compromised lung function the last thing I wanted was for him to suck down the powder and get pneumonia.  After that I just walked around in a daze.  After a bit, I sat down on the bed and just tried to collect myself because I was near tears. 

A few minutes later, I decided to do something that I never do.  I asked for help.  I called up to Uncle Air Force's room and told him what happened, and asked if he'd help me clean up.  He did so, and was tremendously helpful.  The two of us devised a multi-step process.  First, we got everything off the floor - everything but the furniture.  Any bedding or clothing went in the hall into what turned into a ginormous pile to be washed.  Then I wiped off the furniture  Then we vacuumed the floor, and I was pleasantly surprised by how well that worked - it got probably 90% of it up off the floor.  Then I took my handheld Dyson sucker-upper and cleaned up the chair rail and baseboards.  Then Uncle Air Force started mopping.  Between the two of us we mopped the entire floor in the bedroom and hall.  Then he started to severely itch and had to go take a shower.  It never did bother me, and thank goodness because that stuff wasn't going to clean itself up. 

I mopped floor entirely two more full times, just using water.  Then I got Wheeler into the sling over to the shower chair, and gave him a head to toe major washing - but that was after I took a shower first.  Or rather, a co-shower, we were both in there at the same time.  And I washed my hair better than its probably ever been washed in my life (and Gee My Hair Smells Terrific today).  After his shower, I stripped our master bed, the only bedding I hadn't gotten out of the room at that point.  Then I put all new bed clothes on, fresh sheets, blankets, sheepskin, bed pad.  Put him back in bed, and mopped one more time for good measure.  Fed the dog, let him out, and then collapsed into bed. 

Woke up this morning and the bedroom looks great!  Its never been so clean, and it sure looks huge now that everything had been removed and I only put back stuff that actually should be in there.  But as I was sitting here on the couch with the sun streaming in I could see powder on the floor out here.  Obviously the powder was in the vents and got sucked up and blown around out here.  So I mopped the entire floor in the kitchen and living room and hall - which is ALOT of floor space in this joint.  Now I am finally sitting down and vowing to keep the pins in the fire extinguisher at all times.

Because I have done this before. .

Are you old?

"Are you old?" said by 3 year old boy, after eyeballing Wheeler in his wheelchair up and down for a good bit.  I like his logic!

Duct tape and WD-40

You only need two tools in life: WD-40 and duct tape.  If it doesn't move and should, use the WD-40.  If it shouldn't move and does, use duct tape.


- author unknown


- author brilliant

Next time? Listen!

Offspring has a friend who comes over after school every day.  Every. Day.  I like her, she is a delightful little girl, so I don't mind in the slightest (but I am going to negotiate with her family over taking her as a tax deduction on my taxes).  She and Offspring ride their bikes here every day, and then we walk her home later.  On Monday, Wheeler was up and so we all went.  Offspring was on roller blades, I had Dog and the friend rode her bike.  We dropped her at her door and turned to walk back home (well, half of us, only Dog and I were technically walking).  I had ahold of Offspring hand, with Dog's leash in my other hand. 

About a block later, I could hear Wheeler saying something, a one syllable word of some sort, but I couldn't understand him.  He can't speak terribly loud because his injury is high enough that it compromises his lung function and hence he can't shout very well.  So I heard "ruudub .... ruuubud .... duuub ... duuug...." ... I finally understood that he was saying - "DOG!".  Why, you ask?  There was a tiny dog in the yard we were walking by and if Dog sees another dog, he goes bonkers.  Wheeler, seeing the potential for disaster involved with me, a leash, and a kid on roller blades, was wisely trying to warn me. 

Unfortunately it was too late.  Dog spied little dog and lunged towards it.  That nearly pulled my left arm out of my socket (thankfully, this was my uninjured shoulder), which pulled Offspring on his blades.  Then Dog decided to prance in an excited circle, so my arm wrenched the other arm,  Offspring started twirling the other way and Dog just kept going such that we all made two complete revolutions.  The entire time I just kept thinking that one or more of us was going to break one or more bones.  And Dog was barking and prancing and jumping like a wild animal.  I kept trying to let go of Offspring's hand so he could skate safely away, but he had a death grip on me and I never found a good chance to let him go anyway. 

Normally this story would have ended in a trip to the hospital (or minimally a destroyed pair of pants or dropping my phone), but it didn't.  It ended with me finally gaining control of Dog, then we all burst into hysterical laughter.  Wheeler was watching the whole thing with his mouth agape, wondering how the hell we all survived unscathed.

Next time, I'll pay attention more the first time Wheeler says something!

Our Modern Family

We are hooked on Modern Family.  Its on Wednesday nights on ABC and its a really great show.  I even let Offspring watch it, and while about half of it goes right over his head (thankfully!), he does understand alot of it and the humor is quirky .... much like my own wit has known to be at times. The show is a sitcom without a laugh track.  I have a well known anaphylactic (Wheeler would say apocalyptic) reaction to laugh tracks, which is why I hate sitcoms.  But I like this one alot.  If you don't watch the show, a) what rock have you been under? and b) you should start watching it.  It is the story of an extended family and their various conventional and unconventional parts interacting in the real world of boring everyday things, somehow made funny.  Kinda 30-something crossed with Seinfeld.  And to be honest, that's what our lives are alot like - boring everyday things, but I usually get a laugh* from it. 

Let's see: a long suffering dude in a giant chin-controlled wheelchair married to a klutzy air-headed, yet brilliant** wife searching for the meaning of life, who despite being in her 40s (early 40s mind you), still loves the Black Eyed Peas and Eminem (hence, the long suffering part on the wheelchair dude's part). Then throw in Uncle Air Force living with us, a man who used to teach survival tactics in the service and regales us with all sorts of stories about eating bugs and such (at dinner usually).  Also add a pinch of an adorable and hysterically funny (and sometimes very ill behaved) 10 year old boy, a persnickety poodle who goes to prison once a week, and who literally won't leave the porch if it's raining and will hold his pee for up to a documented 23 hours.  Then add in the Tea Party parents just up the block, and a supporting cast that includes a Mensa member who I'm pretty sure is actually me but in another body in another state, two sets of drop dead gorgeous identical twins, a gaggle of devoted hockey fans (in the south no less) and and that's just the folks who would make regular appearances in our Modern Family show.  We have a whole lotta other friends that would spice things up for our annual Halloween special and our Very Special Christmas Episode.

Yes, I think we would make a nifty version of Modern Family.  

* It beats crying

** I actually am smart, I promise. I just don't seem like it most of the time, I know, I know. If you don't believe me, what's 7 * 4?  Its 28!  See, I wrote it down even faster than you thought of it.  So there.

Serendiptous shampoo

Wheeler frequently has an itchy head, and because he has no arm function whatsoever, he is often in misery from having an itchy scalp and no way to scratch it. We have tried a million anti-itch / anti-dandruff shampoos and a few are ok, but none have really helped substantially. Lately, Dog has the same problem - minus the paralysis!  When I was at the pet store the other day buying food, I found some "hot spot & anti-itch" shampoo that is medicated with lidocaine and hydrocortisone - it is an over the counter shampoo. So in a "keep your peanut butter out of my chocolate, keep your chocolate out of my peanut butter" moment, I realized as I was washing Dog with it (and letting it sit for 10 mins, I had alot of time to think this over - just try staring at a wet dog for 10 minutes, you'll see what I mean) that this could be perfect for Wheeler. So the next time Wheeler was in the the shower, I washed his hair with Dog's shampoo. It turned out to be a match made in heaven. I wash his hair, massage it in deeply with my fingers and let it sit on his head for 5-10 minutes. Him in previous sentences applies to both Dog and Wheeler.  Consider this my public service message for the day. 

New Hampshire mustaches

French's is a tiny independent, locally owned toy store that has been in Concord NH for decades.  It has nearly gone under a few times, especially recently, and almost totally closed this past year, but somehow it hung on thanks to a decent Christmas season.  It has a truly skeleton crew of toys at the moment, but that matters not, Offspring and Niece-ette (the younger of my brother's two girls); they love French's, no matter how pathetic the inventory.  Every time Offspring is here, they go spend time (and considerable dough) at French's toy store.  This time I went with them and they were carefully considering their options: they each had $20 to spend.  As they were weighing their various options, Aunt Sister in Law exclaimed loudly and with glee 

You guys! They have MUSTACHES!

which led to a stampede to her location, to see just what that meant.  It is a hilarious assortment of fake mustaches to stick to your face, including variations such as the handlebar, the sheriff and everything in between - there are 7 or 8 in total.  We thought about going home and having everyone pose with the mustaches, but then I realized that this would be the absolute perfect cold vector and we all thought better of it.  All to the benefit of French's though ... as we ended up buying two mustache kits - one for each kid.  

Tonight Niece-ette and Offspring, who I've taken to calling Thing Four and Thing Five (which is very funny if you know my maiden name) are sleeping under the stairs; there is a little alcove there.  A sleepover, but I think they will end up upstairs, so I've already set up a bed for them in a room, a room OTHER THAN MY ROOM, so tonight I get the bed all to my glorious self, ALONE. A-L-O-N-E. Ahhhhhhh.

Schools dismiss early for safety

The local news station had this headline today after the schools closed due to predicted snow and ice: "Safety tops reasons for early school dismissals" 

Really?  Seriously??  Safety tops reasons?  Nothing like being MR. OBVIOUS!!  What other reasons are there?  Seriously people?!  I'm imagining these headlines instead:

• Students nag, teachers give in; schools dismiss early
• Teachers complain they have inadequate time to spend their salaries; schools dismiss early
• "No one wanted to be there anyway" says principal; schools dismiss early
• NC teachers run out of things to teach; schools dismiss early
• January white sale lures school children and staff alike; school dismiss early
• Mutiny. Shools dismiss early.
• In a stunning coincidence, 95% of students and staff have a dental appointment today; schools dismiss early
• Citing a desire to get a jump on the weekend, schools dismiss early
• Unexpected spring fever outbreak causes schools to dismiss early
• Citing the need for additional unstructured playtime for their students, schools dismiss early
• Citing unity with part time workers, schools dismiss early
• In an effort to teach the war strategy of "retreat", schools dismiss early
• Teachers quit their day jobs; schools dismiss early

and the REAL headline should have been ....

• In an effort to muck up parents' lives and wreak as much scheduling havoc as possible - SCHOOLS DISMISS EARLY!

Who is Sarah?

It was April, 2000.  I was newly pregnant and I had an absolutely miserable cold.  I was sniffling, sneezing and I was pretty sure that my head was going to explode.  Of course, it was after hours for my obgyn, so I couldn't ask him whether I could take Sudafed.  I hadn't told anyone other than my husband that I was pregnant, I wasn't showing, but I was full scale preggo paranoid.  So having no one in person to ask, I did what we all do now .... I turned to the internet.  After a few searches and clicks and clacks, I happened upon a series of "expecting clubs" at a major baby/pregnancy website.  The expecting clubs were arranged by month.  Those with babies due in May of 2000 formed one group, those due in June 2000 formed another, etc, etc, all the way out to the newbies like me due in November 2000 - who in April were just a smidge over 2 months pregnant.  I found that the expecting groups each had hundreds, if not a thousand plus members.  I began to browse the November 2000 group.  Finding many kindred (read: pregnant) souls, I decided to register and post my question.  Can I take Sudafed while pregnant?  I don't recall the answer.  But I do know that's how it began.  The amazing journey that has changed my life and so many other lives.  

As the months wore on, as November of 2000 approached, more and more women found the November 2000 expecting club.  There were hundreds of members, some who posted frequently, others who lurked and everything in between.  As summer rolled around, we posted our excitement at so many milestones like the first flutters of the baby kicking - especially us first timers like me, and we collectively relied on the wisdom of the others, some of whom were having their 5th baby in some cases. 

We commiserated over our discomforts - reflux, swollen ankles, aching backs, and swapped home remedies.  Whatever the complaint, all of us women understood.  We truly understood because there is something universal about the experience of being pregnant and especially being so exactly-the-same-amount-pregnant as we all were.  We talked about our bodies, about our partners, about our friends, about our jobs, about our other children, about breastfeeding, about pretty much any and everything.  We especially enjoyed discussing the boorishness of the men in our lives who didn't understand that sometimes we needed, yes NEEDED spaghetti and sugar cookies at 11:30 pm.  And that yes, he needed to leave the house and get these items.  RIGHT. NOW!  We understood, the November 2000 sisterhood. 

As the months progressed, we planned our nurseries, bought clothes, had baby showers, and began to literally count the days until our due dates.  Our very first November 2000 baby, Shelby, arrived in October 2000.  Lots of other babies then began to follow in quick succession, with our last Nov00 baby coming sometime in mid December.  Mine came along exactly on his due date of November 2nd, for which I was grateful, as I watched the agony of other Nov00 mommies waiting and waiting past their due dates with swollen bellies and aching bodies.  But eventually of course, we all became Nov00 mommies, not just expectant mommies. 

The website that administered the expecting clubs then changed over the groups after the due date month passed to be "playgroups".  So we became the November 2000 playgroup, or just Nov00 to all of us.  Members continued to find us over the first year especially and the group probably reached 1,200-1,500 registered members at its peak.  But as the years wore on, the group shrunk - natural attrition.  So after a few years of being a playgroup on the public website, we decided to take the group to a private website that was password protected and invite only.  There were probably about 100-120 of us at that point who were active and were still interested in reading or posting to the group.  I volunteered to adminstrate the website and the whole group moved to a private site. 

This turned out to be an amazingly positive thing because the privacy afforded to us on the new website - unfound by google, impossible to access without an invite only username and password - which were controlled by us - allowed us to talk.  To really talk.  About life.  About things that mattered.  We opened up about our lives in ways that we never had before.  We revealed our marital problems, our health problems, our fears, our pasts, our dreams, our victories, our fall flat on our faces humiliations.  And we were there for each other.  It was a bit odd because the vast majority of us had (and still have not) met in person.  So the somewhat anonymous feel that gives, allows one to open up in ways you wouldn't perhaps, with a casual friend over coffee.  Its safe to say something on a computer screen.  But yet, on the flip side, precisely because of that, we felt more bonded to each than people who we'd known as life long in person friends. 

It has now been 11 years since the formation of the November 2000 Expecting Club, then the November 2000 Playgroup, now we are just Nov00.  There are about 40 of us left that form the Nov00 mommies.  Plus one guy.  There is a sole daddy who was accepted by all the moms and stuck it out with us.  He is the spouse of a Nov00 mommy, and is every bit as much a member as any other mom.  

Sarah is a Nov00 mommy.  I am a Nov00 mommy.  When one of us sick, we rally to their side.  When one of us is sad, we rush to support her.  When one of us succeeds, we all clap and shout louder than anyone else.  We have experienced almost everything that life has to throw at us collectively.  We have experienced divorce, death of a spouse, death of a parent, disability of a child, a near fatal car accident, miscarriages, mental health crises, health crises, cancer, stillbirth, job losses, abuse, and now we are facing the thing we never thought we would have to face: the death of one of us.  A Nov00 mommy will become a Nov00 mommy angel soon, very soon. 

Sarah has fought a heroic, valiant and dare I say, kick-ass, battle against breast cancer for 4 years now.  She has a son Ben who is a Nov00 baby.  She has another son Sam who is 2 years younger.  Her husband is Alan.  All of them will lose her, as will we.  As will all of the friends, acquaintences and people she has touched in her tragically short life.  So to those who ask? 

I have never met Sarah in person.  But Sarah is my friend.  Sarah is a mother.  Sarah is a wife.  Sarah is a daughter.  Sarah is a niece. Sarah is a friend to so many.  Sarah is going to be gone from the earth soon but she will never, ever, EVER, be gone. 

May her children and husband find peace and comfort somehow from knowing the Nov00 mommies are deep in mourning with them. 

Godspeed Sarah. 

alansarahblog.blogspot.com

The Santa Secret

How Offspring still believes in Santa, I'll never know. I outright told him 3 years ago that I am Santa, but he has since told me that he knows that I told him that just to "make me feel better because back when I was a little kid, I was afraid of Santa and the Easter Bunny breaking in like robbers. But now I'm not afraid of that". Me thinks he just figures that he gets more presents if he believes in Santa, not knowing that he'd still get just as many presents sans Santa, it'd just be that they'd all be under the tree and from us. On that note, I picked up Offspring and one of his friends from school the other day because its been so ungodly cold (high teens temp with winds 25-30 mph taking the windchill near zero). Offspring walked ahead a bit and his friend said to me "I'm kinda sad because last night my mom told me the Santa Secret". I said "well, don't tell Offspring!". She said "Oh no, I wouldn't, my mom made me promise to never tell anyone... (pause) ... wait! (with panic in her eyes) YOU know the Santa secret right??". Me trying not to laugh "What Santa Secret? ... (pause) ... yes, I know".

How to get what you want

Offspring has been playing with a friend who lives down the street, and she loves dogs. When they play here, she gloms onto Dog and just loves him. I taken to walking Dog with them, where I double leash Dog so that she can walk him, but I have secondary backup controls in case he sees a: cat, squirrel, rabbit, goose, or duck. In those cases, Dog yanks the leash so hard that he has actually* pulled me over once he spies one or more of those creatures. His prey drive is strong and intact - to say the least. 

Today, she came over after school and we took Dog for a walk. I double leashed Dog, but this time attached him with a long leash to Wheeler's chair and a short one for her. Unlike me, Dog physically incapable of pulling Wheeler's chair even one inch - with him in it, the chair is almost 500 pounds. That and Offspring was sitting in Wheeler's lap today during the walk, so add another 50 pounds. We went up and around the far edge of the lake, and I let Dog go .... and go and go! He ran like the wwww-iiiii-nnnn-dddd with absolute sheer joy in every gallop leap and turn. Then, he ran pell mell into the it-surely-must-be-cold-in-November lake up to his belly so that he was covered in water, dirt and utterly disgusting green algae. HE STUNK. Badly!! That little adventure ensured that I'd be giving him a much needed (even before his lake run) bath tonight. 

We're walking back from the lake and Offspring's friend was again lamenting the fact that her parents won't let her get a dog. My son decided to be helpful and explained how to procure her much wanted dog. 

OK, here's what you do. You BEG. You just say please please please please PLEASE PLEASE pleasepleasepleaseplease until they get so sick of it they say ok eventually. That's what I do!

Ahhhhhh, that's my boy. Sharing wisdom (and my parenting weaknesses) with the world. 

My brother has a pig named Bacon

I can't really top that!

I am Poodle. Pamper me.

I'm on the back porch. Trying to look casual. Turning on the water, pretending to water my plants. My mom quietly brings out two ratty towels wrapped around a bottle, and hands them to me as if dropping off a covert package between spies. 

Damn. 

He saw the shampoo bottle. 

This means that now I have to come in off the back porch and chase Dog, who was previously whining to come on the back porch with me, all over the house. He knows. Shampoo bottle = bath. And despite his breed being a WATER DOG, he loathes a bath. Absolutely hates it with a passion. 

So I chased him around the house, eventually cornering him in a bedroom upstairs. Then I have to drrrrrag him down the stairs and out the door, with the DRAGGING becoming harder and harder the closer we get to the back door. Hosed him down, lathered him up, with him getting lower and lower to the ground the whole time. And just when he hits maximum suds + water? 

SHHHHHHHAAAAKKKKKKKKKKKKE!

Which of course soaks me entirely. He looks at me as if to say "see?!". Finish washing, rinsing (with several more shakes in there) and dry him off with the aforementioned ratty towels. 

Now, the poodle part kicks in. 

Its dark, so I can't just set him in the sunshine to dry. I call him and he follows me up the stairs into the bathroom, and he sits down expectantly. He knows what comes next. The hair dryer. Ahhhhhhh. He hearts the hair dryer. Seriously. He loves the hair dryer! I dry him, with him turning his head up, down, side to side, and then? He lifts his paw. Seriously. "Please dry me under here too, thank you my servant owner". 

Good grief.

Six Word Memoirs

I have this book from the library (see 2 ago previous entry) called "Not Quite What I Was Planning: Six-Word Memoirs By Famous and Obscure". They are wickedly awesome and surprisingly diverse. Some of the ones I really, really like are below. Some I like for their pithiness, some for their closeness to my own experiences, and some are just funny.

A sake mom, not soccer mom.

Tombstone won't say "Had health insurance".

Wasted time regressed so changed life.

Catholic school backfired! Sin is in.

Made a mess. Cleaned it up.

Bad brakes discovered at high speed. <-- I think this is me

I was born. Some assembly required.

I'm enjoying even this downward dance.

I recognize red flags faster now.

Macular degeneration. Didn't see that coming.

No words can describe my life.

Red diaper baby, hippie bourgeoise adult <-- I wrote my overcoming upbringing one before I read this one

Girlfriend is pregnant my husband said.

I was and now I'm not.

In a Manolo world I'm Keds.

I'm just here for the beer!

I've been thinking of my six word memoir candidates. So far I have:

Crazy. Worth effort to be with. 

One mom. One boy. Happiness found.

Had career, lost it, was happier.

Free spirit overcame straightlaced conservative upbringing

And Offspring came up with this one, which is the title of this blog:

It wasn't funny ... at the time.

And also:

If it's fun, don't do it.

What is/are yours?