Adventures in Dog Sitting - Part Seven

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We are almost done with the dog sitting...tomorrow is our last FULL day (although Steph isn't getting back until late Saturday night...)

Jasmine is going to miss having her "friend". I caught them playing tug of war (something we try not to do very often with Jasmine since she is a hunting dog and you don't want her to play tug of war with a bird...but it's fine for dogs)....they were having a blast! This was a bad picture, they were moving around so fast. But now you get an idea of how the two dogs interact...it's quite amusing. Makes me want to go out and get my Bouvier...

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I Don't Get It

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Honor eats the bare minimum of cooked broccoli, but while I am cooking dinner, she will happily suck away on a frozen floret and say "delicious!" She won't eat a salad if it is on her plate, yet she will pick up the discarded core from a head of lettuce and munch on it until the actual dinner starts.

Her food preferences extend past the green vegetables to potatoes (unless they are in fast food french fry form), however I have caught her grabbing raw, unwashed potato skins from the TRASH CAN and sneaking into the other room to eat them...

I just don't get it.

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Adventures in Dog Sitting - Part Six

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Rawhides and Kid Toys Don't Mix

Have I mentioned that Bogie LOVES Jasmine? He follows her around like...a little puppy dog (except he's a big puppy dog...have I mentioned he's BIG???). And when she leaves the room and he is in his kennel, he cries.

The night before last, I stayed downstairs until 4 in the morning (I kind of took a nap on the couch) because he couldn't fall asleep. I thought he fell asleep at midnight, so Jasmine and I went upstairs. Of course, Jasmine isn't very subtle and she shook her collar which jingled and woke him up. He then got upset because she wasn't downstairs and started whining....loudly. "Honey, I'll just go downstairs and watch tv until he falls asleep." I said to my husband. I didn't know that midnight would turn into 1 am and 2 am without him falling asleep. Sometime between 2 am and 4 am he actually did fall asleep and I woke up cold from my little nap to go up to my warm bed.

So last night we had Jasmine go upstairs with Daddy around 11 pm so when Bogie fell asleep around midnight, I went to bed no problem. Around 3 am, Bogie woke up and started whining. "You better go down and sleep on the couch again." said my thoughtful husband. In his defense, the dog does like me a lot better than he likes him.

"No. See, he's stopped. He'll be fine." Uh huh. I won't make this mistake again...

5:30 rolled around and Bogie woke up again. "Dear, go let him out and then bring him up to our room."

"I'm getting up in 15 minutes anyway, just give me 15 minutes."

5 minutes later, the whining turns to a loud bark. "GO GET HIM. I don't want him to wake up the kids!" I hiss at my husband.

"I have to get up soon anyway...just let me sleep a couple more minutes!"

2 minutes later. "UGH. FINE. I'm AWAKE now anyway...I'LL go get him." Yeah. That was a mistake.

I could smell it from the stairwell. Apparently Bogie DID NOT miss Jasmine that much. Apparently, rawhides and kids toys don't sit well in his stomach. I can say one thing for him...he tried to keep it out of his kennel. The three large piles of doggy business were outside of his kennel. The vomit unfortunately was not.

So at 6 am this morning, Daddy and I gave Bogie a bath and I washed his doggy pillow and scrubbed the floor.

"Are you going to shampoo the carpet?" Daddy asked.

"No! I'm not crazy! That's hard work! I'll wait until Bogie's gone before I bring out the big guns."

"How are you going to get the stains out of the carpet?" We are out of carpet cleaner...

"Um...baking soda." I lied, knowing he wouldn't like my real answer. He has some sort of an aversion to using dish soap on carpet--despite the fact that it is gentle enough to take oil off of penguins!

DAWN takes grease out of the way... and does a great job of take dog poo stains out of the carpet.

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Dog Dominance...

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I feel bad for docking Jasmine's tail. Sure it saves her from getting all bloody as she dives into bushes to flush out pheasants, but it doesn't do much to help her claim of dominance over "the pup". Bogie, on the other hand, has a big, long tail that sticks straight up when they are playing. He lords it over her like a flag, "See, I can be the dominant dog...I have a tail!" Jasmine tries to wave her little stump, but it just doesn't go anywhere, "Um...I'm the big powerful dog, you little pup...see my...stump!" Yes...definitely a disservice.

It's a good thing she makes scarier faces...
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Adventures in Dog Sitting - Part Five

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The List

This is what Bogie has destroyed so far... (2 days)

• Samuel's sippy cup (he's particular... he only had two of the kind he likes, but we bought 2 more today so now he has three...)
• The Soccer Ball
• The Bouncer Ball (that the kids bounce on)
  
• The Rubber Bouncy Ball
• The Plastic Football
• The Plastic Bouncy Ball
  
• The Bubble Tiger
• The Plastic Watering Can
• The Sidewalk Chalk Paintbrush
  
• The Water Rocket (all three parts)
  
• The Hose

I caught him with the lid to the gas tank for the lawn mower, but he didn't eat that. He has also NOT eaten the rawhides or the kong...except for when he is in his kennel and that's his only choice.

Apparently he is a dog of refined taste...

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Adventures in Dog Sitting - Part Four

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Honor: "Bogie is the best doggie in the whole world!"

Daddy: "No he's not! Jasmine is the best dog in the whole world!"

Honor: "Jasmine is a good doggie too."

Daddy: "No, Jasmine is the best doggie in the whole world!"

Honor: "They are both the best doggies!"


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Connor: "Oooh. Dog poopies. This one has colors in it!"

Mommy: "Yeah. That's Bogie's. He's been eating your toys again."
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Adventures in Dog Sitting - Part Three

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Doggy Bootcamp

My sister-in-law actually told me on the phone today that Bogie is in "Doggie Bootcamp" at my house. I am expected to turn this little pup into a DOG in six days. Yeah. I don't think so.

Oh, we're doing well. He now sits fairly well on command from a distance and he "drops" whatever is in his mouth, etc. He is learning basic manners. But I can't guarantee he'll be over his "puppyness" when he gets home.

All I can guarantee is that he will learn the nose trick. And I think that's all they care about.

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Adventures in Dog Sitting - Part Two

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The Problems

Honor and Ariana did not like him. Let's rephrase that...Honor and Ariana hated him.

"Time to go to Aunt Steph's!"
"Is Bogie going to be there?"
"Yes, of course."
"I don't want to go to Aunt Steph's house!"

And of course you remember the Dinner Conversation where Honor said she can't go to Iowa because they have dogs...she was thinking of Bogie at the time.

You see, the first day we brought the kids over to meet Bogie after Steph decided to keep him, we forgot about Honor's irrational fear of all things animal (she's even afraid of our chinchillas if the cage door happens to be open--how is she possibly my daughter?????). Bogie immediately put his nose in her face (same height) to smell her and she screamed and ran. He's a puppy. He chased her.

And the hatred began.

She passed this hatred on to Ariana who mimics Honor in everything. We learned our lesson and Bogie was never at the door again when the kids came over, but the damage was done.

So Steph and I went to work on desensitizing her. While the kids were in a "movie trance", Steph would let the dog in unnoticed and he would silently lie down by the couch. Of course Honor didn't notice him until it was time for her to leave and then she would refuse to get off the couch. Then it was my turn. "Honor, you will get off that couch, I am not going to carry you. Bogie will not bother you. It is time to go. Steph isn't going to put him outside." Eventually she would have to get off the couch--as far away as possible from the offending dog--and Bo never left his comfortable spot.

After a little while, we started introducing "tasks" that Honor needed to complete before we could leave the dreaded dog. "Honor, Steph will put Bogie outside if you pet him three times." "Okay."

It worked a little, but we were out of time...Steph only had a couple of weeks before vacation. It was now time to work on the bigger problem--Jasmine.

See, I knew Bogie would be socialized and I wasn't worried about him, but I was worried about Jasmine. She's a little...over protective. So a few weeks before the vacation, we began introducing them. The first night was a bit rough. We kept both dogs on leashes and Jasmine "attacked" any time Bo got too close. Eventually we let her off her leash and she stopped attacking him. And pretty soon they were both able to run loose without any major problems...as long as Bogie stayed in line.

Then time was up.

Late Friday night, Steph dropped off Bogie, his giant kennel that takes up most of our living room, his giant pillow that takes up most of his kennel, his leash, his dog bowls, his giant bag of dog food and her obedience school manual so I could work on his "homework" with him. And she left.

They were doing okay, but neither dog would settle down for the night while the other was in the room. So, Daddy took Jasmine upstairs and gave me some one-on-one time with Bogie. We went outside and I attempted to wear him out with a game of fetch. He happily ran after the balls I threw, but thought it was a fun game to keep it from me. So I pulled a trick from the Dog Whisperer (Hey! Don't judge! There was nothing else to watch while I was in the hospital with Samuel!). I threw the ball and then turned around. Standing with my shoulders back and my head held high, I waited. And waited. I could hear him getting closer to me--trying to get my attention--but I didn't turn around. Finally a little ball rolled down by my foot. I turned and Bogie was waiting expectantly--he had "joined my pack".

From that point on, he really listened well to my instructions. He followed me around the house and listened when I told him what to do. When it was time for bed, he fell asleep in his kennel and I went upstairs for the night.

Neither Jasmine nor I slept well that first night. I kept picturing my house destroyed by Bo--he can get out of his kennel if the door isn't facing the wall so I was scared he would just break down the rest of the kennel. Every time I sat up, Jasmine began pacing. I didn't want to let her downstairs in case Bo should hear her and then start whining and she didn't like having the "strange dog" downstairs unattended. At 4 am, we crept downstairs and peeked around the corner (the baby gate was up). Bogie was awake, but calm inside his kennel. I quickly ran upstairs and hoped he hadn't seen me.

Morning came and he hadn't gotten out of his kennel. He was still behaving himself nicely. Now came the challenge. See, we had told the kids that Bo was going to stay with us for a week, but they weren't awake when he arrived. He had done well all night and I was ready to introduce him to the kids. Connor was no problem. "Hi Bogie!" But the girls were another deal altogether.

I waited outside their door.

"Girls, look under your door and tell me what you see."
"We don't see anything."
"Okay. Well, I just wanted you to know that Bogie is out here with me..."
"Nooooo! I don't like Bogie!!!!" in chorus.
"Shhhh....just listen. Bogie is out here with me and he is being a very good dog. I need you to be kind to Bogie because he's going to be staying with us for a whole week. You don't want to scare him. He's our guest. If I open this door, can you be kind to Bogie and not scream and scare him?"
"Uh, huh."
"Okay...here we come then..."

I opened the door and the funniest thing happened. Honor came right up to Bogie and said, "Hi Bogie! You're a good boy!" and then patted his head. Silly girl! Ariana wasn't quite willing to pet him, but she didn't scream and run away either.

We all went downstairs, and that's when the problems with Jasmine started. See, Jasmine was doing fine with Bogie as long as he left her alone, but she was quick to put him in his place if he stepped out of line. She is the alpha dog and she will not allow him to walk past her shoulder. So, just like she follows me everywhere, he follows her everywhere--it's like a little train.

But he's a puppy and he wants to play. So I kind of feel bad. It's like I brought home the annoying younger brother that is always pestering her to play and she just wants to relax. For the most part they do well together. Bogie lies down about 3 feet from wherever Jasmine lies down--always behind her in reference to where I am sitting. But every few hours he starts feeling puppish.

It starts with a little "bow" to her with his tail wagging. She ignores him. Then he nips at her foot and Jasmine snaps at him. Ooooh...that's what he wanted. Now she is paying attention to him. He barks. She ignores him. He sneaks forward and nips at her ear. She jumps up and "bites" him in the throat (that sounds and looks much more vicious than it really is...she can actually look quite scary when she wants to, but there has never been any blood). Now she's "playing" with him and he gets all excited and starts dancing around. She goes into her kennel to get away. He bows outside her kennel, waiting for her to play some more. He gets her a bone. She takes the bone. Ooh...now there is something for her to protect inside her kennel. He tries to take it. She snaps at him again. I take the bone away and shove Bogie outside. He comes back in (stupid doggie door!). I make him lie down. And he is calm until Jasmine gets up to move again.

So you would think that Jasmine hated him, but I don't think that's the case. She roughhouses with him outside just like she used to do with DeJour (except their roles are reversed) and I know that she "loved" DeJour (I know anthropomorphism, but she didn't have any signs of separation anxiety until DeJour died...). I think she's just annoyed with him. And I feel bad for her, but they are working it out.

Oh...and if you are scared for the kids, don't be. First, the kids stay away from them when they are "roughhousing"--if they happen to start when the kids are around, the kids quickly get up on the couch out of the way (but the kids typically are in the front room where the dogs aren't allowed anyway). Second, the dogs are not fighting--there is obviously no malicious intent--Jasmine is simply teaching the "puppy" (that's twice her size) how to behave. And they have never bumped into anyone (adult or child) during any of these incidents--they are in control of themselves. It might look scary to someone who doesn't know dogs, but if they were trying to hurt each other, they easily could--and they haven't tried.

It is just very annoying.

"Bogie, Eh Eh! Outside!" My throat is getting sore!

And then there is the problem of the chinchillas. Not really a problem since Bogie isn't allowed upstairs unsupervised, but he wants to go upstairs. He wants to eat the chinchillas. He is a terrier after all. Small rodents are his specialty. So far the baby gates have been keeping him downstairs and he really is fine as long as we're downstairs, but one of these times he's going to realize that it wouldn't take much for him to knock down the baby gates...

Oh well...we'll deal with that when it happens...

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Adventures in Dog Sitting - Part One

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The Dog

Have I ever mentioned how much I LOVE dogs? I am an animal person through and through, but I especially love dogs...and I especially love BIG dogs. Little yappie dogs are good for someone else and I'll happily pet them at others' houses, but only medium-sized or larger dogs for me. I grew up around hunting dogs. My dad actively involved me in the training of our dogs from when I was really little. I honestly remember taking my springer for a walk at the tender age of 5 all by myself (it was a different world back then!). She was bigger than me!

In general, I really don't trust little dogs--the only dog that has ever actually tried to bite me was a little Chihuahua. I would never let my kids stick their faces near a little dog, but they climb all over Jasmine. They pull on her jowls, her ears, her tail. They ride her like a horse (not that she lets them, but they try). She cleans off their faces after breakfast (when they climb down before I can clean them off) and I don't bat an eye. I'm always in attendance--but I'm not scared of an attack. Because Jasmine is an English Springer Spaniel--they are rated as "very good" with small children. And she is. Of course, I have taught my kids to respect dogs and be gentle with them and frankly, my kids typically leave dogs alone--the dogs (DeJour and now Jasmine) have always followed me around and pretty much ignored the children so the children pretty much ignore them.

So when my sister-in-law called me up a few months ago and said they found a stray pit bull puppy, 'But he's really sweet and we're thinking of keeping him,' I was kind of surprised by my reaction--I tensed up. "Hmmm..." I said to her. "I really don't know much about pit bulls. I will have to look them up." That's what I said. What I was thinking was, "aren't those the dangerous dogs they use for fighting?!! and you brought it home!!!"

Now let me explain. I have always been a firm believer that when dogs show aggression, (unless the dog has some disease) it is almost always the owner's fault. Dogs are pack animals and enjoy being trained, but people try to treat them like babies and think it is "mean" to make them obey, which confuses them into thinking they are in charge--and then the dog acts like a dog and reinforces pack order--the dog as alpha. Or on the other end, people think dogs are "happier" outside being a "dog" and only give it attention during feeding time (again they are pack animals, social animals) so the dog that is left outside without a lot of socialization again doesn't feel like it's part of the "pack" and then acts like a dog--it defends "its" territory.

I have always defended German Shepherds and Rottweilers. I have never met a "bad" one. And at one time in Iowa, German Shepherd Mixes were considered "vicious" and required extra insurance so I had to license DeJour as just a plain mix breed to avoid any issues. But for some reason, Pit Bulls scared me. They didn't get the special "protection" from me that the other dogs got because I had never really known one.

By-the-way...Steph is WAY less trusting of dogs than I am--she did not grow up in a "dog family" (and had heard more pit bull horror stories than I had)-- so I figured if she liked this dog, he must be pretty good.

The next day I went over. As the self-proclaimed "dog expert", I figured I could help Steph decide if this would be a good addition to their family (granted that no one claimed him--she was responsible and called the pounds and put an ad on the lost dog website they use--no one claimed him).

I was impressed. The dog was not what I was expecting. He was very cute (picture the Little Rascal's dog without the ring around the eye and brown spots instead of black) and he was fairly well-behaved. It was obvious that someone had worked with him at least with basic obedience. He walked well on a leash and seemed to recognize simple commands. And I saw absolutely no signs of aggression. His body language was very submissive.

So, I went back to my house and researched pit bulls...and I was surprised by what I found. Where as my gentle Jasmine is ranked as "very good" with children, The American Pit Bull is ranked as "excellent" with children. They are very loyal to their owners and good with people in general. Their only real "flaw" is that they are dog aggressive--which makes sense since they are used for dog fighting. Someone who would want a dog for dog fighting would want a dog that was loyal to people so that he wouldn't attack the person during the fight. And because of their popularity and reputation for being a "vicious" dog, it would also make sense that there would be many cases of bad owners and dog attacks.

So I told Steph that if she liked the dog and intended to make him part of the family, I didn't see any reason not to keep him. I even volunteered to dog-sit when she went on vacation--provided she got him neutered and attended obedience school for socializing since these dogs need "strong" owners and are dog aggressive.

He was obviously a puppy, but he was fairly large--about the size of Jasmine. I told Steph that he looked fairly full-grown to me...that he would probably get broader, but not much taller. I was wrong. The dog grew very large. I really think he is mixed with a Great Dane (or at least somewhere down the line there was some Great Dane mixing). He is a horse! But still very cute.

So the time came a few months later that I was called upon to dog sit her 80 pound puppy. What was I thinking? Thankfully he is now kennel trained so I don't have to worry about him destroying our couch when we are not in the room like he did theirs...or destroying our backyard by digging (he is a terrier). And they did take him to obedience school (where he was the star of the class...he behaves very well... on a leash...).

But I did have two things to worry about...one less of a worry than the other....

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Get Off!

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After setting up my husband on facebook (because I wanted to be married on facebook and I got sick of him looking at all of his friends through my page...), I went over to give him a kiss during his car racing video game.

Connor: "Stop cuddling with my Daddy!"

Daddy laughed. Mommy didn't move.

Connor: "Mommy! Stop cuddling with my Daddy! You are messing him up!"

Daddy laughed even harder...it's the first time one of the kids has used the possessive on him when I was kissing him...usually it is "That's my mommy!"

Fine! I know when I'm not wanted...I'll just go cook dinner now...

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Bye Daddy!

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Daddy left for work right after the kids woke up this morning. Honor was in the restroom, but I could hear her clearly from the living room....

"BYE DADDY!!!!"

"Bye, honey!" he left out the garage door.

In an indulgent voice, "Daddy is growing up..."

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Hmmm....Suspicious

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Connor to Ariana: "I don't want to eat my rice--it's all messy!"

Ariana to Connor: "Eat your rice!"

Connor to Mommy: "Mommy, I can't eat my rice...I'm allergic to rice."

Nice try...

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I looked over at Ariana's plate one moment and saw it was full of food (except the rice--she likes rice). I went into the pantry to get Samuel a cracker. When I came out, all of Ariana's food was gone. I looked over at the plate Daddy had left on the table--it was now piled with food.

Nice try...

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Bloody Mess and All That

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"Samuel, come here. I need to change your diaper so you can go outside and play."

Samuel runs away into the kitchen. A second later I hear a loud bang. Samuel starts crying and runs up to me to be held. Hee, hee...into the arms of the enemy! I pick him up, assuming he merely added another bruise to his already colorful legs and prepare to change him. I quickly realize that the smell from his diaper has substance and is about to leak onto my arm. mmm. I rush over to the floor to begin the diaper change--thankfully I had everything all nice and laid out. I put my leg over him to begin and notice the long stream of blood coming from just below his knee cap. Darn! He didn't just bruise or scrape his knee...he actually CUT it. Now he needs a band aid! UGH!

"Honor! Hurry and grab the band aid box off the counter please."

"This one?"

"Yes! Hurry!"

I wipe the wound quickly with a wet wipe. I know a wet wipe is not the best thing to use to clean a cut, but I fear if I get up to get peroxide or even a wet paper towel, he will run away and I will never get him back. Best to do a quick job for now. Of course...wet wipes have lotion in them... poor Samuel!

Still with an oozing poopie diaper, Samuel starts fighting for his life. Have I mentioned before that he is strong? Well....he is STRONG. Before I can get the cap off the polysporin, Samuel has wriggled out from under my leg and turned over.

Mumbling under my breath, I grab him and place both my legs over his stomach/hips. I then wipe up the blood from my carpet. Of course I now I have to re-wipe his wound with a wet wipe....he kicks me in the face. Thanks Samuel.

Now I dare you...just TRY to get a nice even stream of polysporin on a moving target...just try....I'd like to see it. You would have failed as miserably as I did!

He starts to push out from underneath both legs now. By the time I am able to squeeze the molasis out of the tube, he has grabbed the band aid and is panicking because it is stuck to his finger. I use his distraction to get a good line of polysporin on. Yeah me! Then I reach for another band aid. The first one has now managed to lodge itself in his hair--it no longer bothers him so he is free to put full force into wiggling out from my legs. He succeeds....but I catch him before he can turn over. Unfortunately, my pants have smeared off the polysporin. **sigh**

Enough is enough. I put polysporin on the band aid and THROW it on his wound...who cares if it is only partially covered...it should contain most of the blood. I want to cheer in triumph.

I begin to clean up wrappers and Samuel uses my distraction to make his escape from the diaper change. I throw everything in a grocery sack and look up to see him waving his band aid in the air like an enemy flag. GRRRRRRRRRR!!!

THAT'S IT!!!!

I throw him (gently...even angry I could never be too rough with my "baby") onto the ground...and sit on him. That's right...I sat on him. Now I have the use of all four of my limbs. I use my legs to pin his legs to the ground and I expertly put polysporin in a smooth line on the wound. Then I put a band aid on perfectly to cover all of the bloody area.

I learn from my mistakes. This time I don't let him up until his diaper is changed and his pants are on. His face is a slimy mess, but I win...and isn't that all that matters?

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Connor's Lunchtime Conversation

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"So...how was your day today, Mom?"

"Fine, Son. How was your day?"

"It was pretty awesome....I spent the day fighting bad guys...and I beat up bad guys...and I used a sword on bad guys...."


Hmmm...really. I thought you spent the morning drawing with your new drawing board. Shows what I know!
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Sure Sign of Samuel

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I hear banging in the kitchen. I turn my head to see what it is and see nothing. Moments later, a car "magically" appears on the top of my kitchen island. It then starts moving back and forth. Soon, a second car joins the first. They start randomly crashing into each other. They hold still for a second and a third car joins them. The first two cars crash into the third car and it falls to a terrible death. A little voice pipes up, "Uh Oh! Oh No! It's Stuck! All Right! Let's Go!" The third car reappears...

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Play is a Child's Work...

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Can someone please explain to me why my children cry when I tell them to go play in the front room? (You know...the land of toys...)

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Happy Adoption Day!!!

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So, I just had one of the best (and most exhausting!) days of my life.

At 9:30 am, our family went to the county juvenile court house. There we met our old case worker, three of my licensing workers, our lawyer, our adoptions case worker, a kind lady from our church, and my husband's family (grandma, parents, sister, brother-in-law, niece and nephew). Quite a nice turnout!

We were ushered into a tiny room where a judge waited. My husband and I sat with Connor and Ariana at a table up front so that we could answer the questions from our lawyer. Her questions were VERY simple.

"Are you [my name]?" "yes."
"Do you live at [my address]?" "yes."
"Do you currently reside in X county?" "yes."
"Has Connor and Ariana lived with you for the last 3 years?" "yes."
"To the best of your knowledge, do Connor and Ariana own any property outside of what is at your home?" (something like that) "no."
"To the best of your knowledge, are either Connor or Ariana Native American?"(something like that) "no."
"Do you intend to change the names from Conner Owen [last name] to Connor Owen [OUR last name] and Airianna Nicole [last name] to Ariana Jane [ OUR last name]?" "yes."
"[my husband], do you agree with everything she said?" "yes."
"Do you intend to adopt the children?" (something like that) "yes."

And then the judge said something to the account of By the powers invested in me by ...jurisdiction...blah, blah, blah.... I hereby grant your petition for adoption. All ties shall be severed to DES. blah, blah, blah... (there was a lot of legal mumbo jumbo, but you get the point!) And that was it. Connor and Ariana are now officially ours for as long as we all shall live!!! **big grin**

After the adoption, we recounted with our case manager all the tales of woe associated with this case. He said that in his 15+ years in CPS, this was one of the top 5 of his hardest cases. He went on to say how frustrating it was for him knowing that she had lied over and over again (which should have negated everything right then) and not being able to prove. Every time they had a court hearing he said he felt like he was going on the Jerry Springer show. This adoption was a huge blessing for him as well! I was touched that he made the effort to come and wish us well--he stopped being our case manager as soon as we started the adoption process so he really didn't have to do it. We are so thankful for his advocacy for the children and for us as foster parents throughout this process. We were definitely blessed by the choice in case managers!

Once most of our party left, Steph's family and our family and grandma went to the mall play area and the kids had a wonderful time climbing around. We had several people compliment us on our adorable outfits (I had the kids wear their Easter outfits...get as much use out of those as possible!!) The kids were very well behaved and I even got them ice cream before we went home and took naps.

After naptime, we went to a place called BounceU which we had hired out for our big party. Basically it has all sorts of big jumping bounce houses/obstacle courses/slides. The kids had a blast! Several families from church came to support us and I felt truly blessed to have such wonderful friends. Of course their kids had fun too... ;-) And of course all of my husband's family came there as well, plus some that couldn't make it to the hearing. We had over 50 people in attendance which was very nice!

After bouncing for an hour and a half (believe me, that was plenty of time!), we gathered together and thanked God for his goodness to us, before eating pizza and cake. Lots of junk food today!

When we got home, I let Connor and Ariana open their presents. There weren't many presents because I told people I would rather they help out with the cost of dinner than give the kids toys (we have enough already!). I let Honor open one. Unfortunately, the one that she chose to open was a photo album...not fun when Connor got a Doodle Pro and Ariana got a Bubble Dog!

As I tucked Connor and Ariana in, I reminded them that Mommy and Daddy loved them so much that we chose to adopt them and keep them "forever and ever". Both of them just looked at me like I was crazy--of course they know we love them and why wouldn't we keep them forever and ever?--but they smiled and said they loved me too. All they really understand was that today they get to be [our last name]s (so now when they are in trouble I can use all 3 names instead of just 2!) and they got to have a big bouncy party to celebrate "Happy Adoption Day!".

When it was time to tuck Honor in, however, she was a little upset.

"What's wrong, honey?"

"I wanted to open presents too!"

"Oh. Well today was Connor and Ariana's special day. You get to open presents on your birthday."

"But I don't want a birthday! I want to be adopted!"


And thus ended one of the best days of my life. Thank you God for blessing us!

Behold, children are a heritage from the LORD,
The fruit of the womb is a reward.
Like arrows in the hand of a warrior,
So are the children of one’s youth.
Happy is the man who has his quiver full of them;

Psalm 127:3-5a

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Another Dinner Conversation

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Connor: When I get older, I will be a man.

Mommy: mmmhmmm

Connor: When I am a man, I can get married.

Daddy: mmmhmmm

Connor: And when I am a man and I get married, then I will have a baby.

Daddy: Looks like you have it all figured out son. Who are you going to marry?

Connor: Well, I guess I will have to marry Mommy.

Daddy: You can't marry Mommy...she's already married to me.

Connor: Well, I guess I will have to marry Honor.

Mommy: You can't marry Honor...she's your sister.

Connor: But when she grows up, she will be a woman.

Mommy: But she will still be your sister. We don't live in Arkansas.

Daddy: You can't marry your sister son.

Connor: Well, who can I marry then?

Mommy: How about Abigail from church?

Daddy: Nope. She'll be in Africa.

Mommy: Oh right. Okay. How about Emma. Nope, she's older than you. Okay. Aliyah.

Connor: Okay. I'll marry Aliyah.

Mommy: And Honor, you are going to marry Addison.

Honor: No! I don't like Addison!

Daddy: Good girl. You're not going to marry Addison.

Honor: No. I don't like boys! I like girls!

Daddy: I'm sorry dear. Girls don't marry girls...at least not in AZ. You'll have to move to Iowa.

Mommy glares daggers at Daddy for daring to insult her "home state".

Honor: I can't move to Iowa...they have dogs!


...and that is why I feel it is important to eat dinner as a family.

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Empty Tomb Hunt

But when they looked up, they saw that the stone had been rolled away—for it was very large. And entering the tomb, they saw a young man clothed in a long white robe sitting on the right side; and they were alarmed.

But he said to them, “Do not be alarmed. You seek Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He is risen! He is not here.

-Mark 16:4-6

I love Resurrection Sunday! What an amazing, wonderful gift to be able to celebrate the day that our LORD had victory over death! Love it, Love it, Love it!!!!

Next year we will start the annual tradition of making Easter Tomb Cookies and I can't wait. I have been waiting patiently until I was sure the kids (at least Honor and Connor) would understand what we were doing, and next year is the year. But until then, we can still continue on the tradition of the "Empty Tomb Hunt." Instead of hunting Easter eggs (which never made much sense to me), I have my children look for empty tombs with 1 angel (jelly bean) inside. Maybe they don't understand what we are doing, but they have a lot of fun and I feel better about including my favorite (childhood) part of Easter. Of course, we don't do the Easter bunny. They know Mommy is the one that hides the tombs while they are down for their nap, but they don't care.

Here is a run-down of this year's "Empty Tomb Hunt":

Last year Honor got almost all of the eggs (which means she ate roughly 30 jelly beans all by herself...right before dinner...Daddy can't say "no" to the dimple...).

This year I thought that I would give the other kids a fighting chance. So I lined all the kids up and gave each of them their Easter bucket. Then Daddy took Samuel to look for tombs. He found three...and then he found the peep that was in the bottom of his bucket. The peep won out to the eggs..."a bird in the hand..."

After he had his three eggs, I sent Ariana loose. She found two right away so I sent Connor out. He found one right away. So I sent Honor out... I should have waited a little while longer...

Ariana figured out the tombs had jelly beans in them and stopped after each to eat the "angel". Samuel never left the picnic table...it took him a few minutes to eat his treat. Honor ran around like a madwoman, snatching tombs up like there was no tomorrow. Connor followed behind her to get any she may have missed--there weren't many.

Here are the totals:

Samuel...3

Ariana...5

Connor...8

Honor...21

Well, I guess that's better than 30!

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Easter From A Boy's Perspective

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Driving to church this morning, Honor made a spiritual connection to the telephone poles.

Honor: "Mommy! Look at all the crosses!"

Mommy: "Yes, honey. They do kind of look like crosses, huh?"

Honor: "Yes they do. Jesus died on the cross for our sins!"

Mommy: "Yes, He did."

Connor: "They look like upside down swords!"


Yes, Jesus did have victory over the grave...great metaphor son...

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Poor Pooh

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Samuel is going through the phase that all of my children at one point or another has gone through...taking his pants and diaper off during nap. Specifically his camo pants. Everytime he wears them, they come off during nap.

Today Daddy got him up from nap and was treated to Samuel standing with a naked behind proudly displaying all for the world to see, giant grin spread across his face. My husband came running into our bedroom.

"[Mommy]! Samuel peed on the carpet!"

Sure enough, Samuel did not wet the bed....but the surrounding floor was quite damp. Then Daddy noticed the casualty.

"Oh No! He peed on Pooh!"

That just sounds funny to me...

Poor Pooh!

Why You Shouldn't Go to Burger King...

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...Subtitled: Why "Bat Felly" is NOT Funny.

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Sunday was an interesting day for us. We went to church. Well, that was normal. After church the kids recited what they had learned and we rewarded them by going to Burger King. Well, that was normal too. It has slowly become our traditional Sunday lunch...lucky for Burger King there aren't too many fast food options around our home with drive through...

No, the interesting part happened in the drive through....

Daddy ordered our normal lunch: "I would like a number 1, medium, with a Dr. Pepper; A tender grill chicken sandwich--no lettuce or tomato; two 4-piece chicken nuggets; two whopper jrs.--ketchup, mustard and pickles only; and a large fry." (Well, usually I don't get my chicken sandwich--I only get that if I need to go to the grocery store and have none of my food at home...ANYWAY... don't judge...)

"Okay, sir. Your chicken sandwich is still being made. Can you please pull forward into that parking spot and wait for one moment?" Daddy rolled his eyes at me (he hates ordering my chicken sandwich because it costs almost as much as his whole meal) and pulled around the corner.

"Honey, didn't the man tell you to pull into the parking space?"

"It doesn't matter...this way I'll be closer when they come out the door."

"Yeah, but what if one of those cars need to leave?" I asked, pointing to the four cars we were now blocking. (Yes, I know cars wouldn't need to leave...do you have to be so technical???)

"Then I'll move!" He said, giving me a frustrated sigh. (he gets cranky when he's hungry...) "Do you hear how the truck is idling?"

"Um. Sure."

"You don't hear that? It's horrible!"

In an attempt to stop it from idling so rough, my husband turned the truck off. But it didn't actually turn off--it just stopped mid-turn.

"What happened?" I asked blankly.

"I don't know!" (Remember, he's cranky...no lunch yet.)

He turned the key a few more times. Absolutely NOTHING happened. He popped the lid. (Did I mention that my husband is a great mechanic?) He fiddled under the hood for a second and then turned the key. Nothing happened. He fiddled again and turned again. Nothing happened. He calmly put the truck in neutral and started pushing the truck out from behind the other cars--children, wife and all.

"Honey, do you want me to get out and help?"

He laughed at me. He actually laughed at me. "No honey. I'm fine." (Did I mention that my husband is strong?)

He parked the truck and tried again. Still nothing. I began calling all of Steph's phones--house, her cell and her husband's cell (she lives around the corner from this particular BK). No answer. So I called my husband's business partner who also happens to live around the corner. His wife answered.

"Hi! Is B available?"

"No. He's working on the dance studio." (They own a dance studio also--free dance lessons for all my kids...isn't that great!)

"Oh. Perfect! I have to call him. Bye!" (I realized later that it was probably rude of me not to tell her what was going on. Oh well. I'm sure she's forgiven me by now...)

God always blesses us. How on earth was the truck breaking down in the Burger King parking lot a blessing you ask? Well, guess where B's dance studio is...just guess... in the same parking lot as the BK! And guess what vehicle he had with him... the company truck...with ALL their tools!

B came right over. Meanwhile Steph returned my call. Turns out that they weren't home yet anyway...God knows all!

Daddy asked me to take the kids in to the restaurant while he and B worked on the truck. The kids were overly excited...they got to eat inside!

****Now time to interject a new story...we'll come back to this in a moment****

My husband and my darling sister-in-law have very high metabolisms. I mean VERY high. Growing up, they were skinny. Of course now they both have perfect bodies. I'm serious. My sister-in-law (that you all know and love as "Steph") is 5'9" (...10"...I don't know...she's tall) and weighs maybe 125. Can you say "model"? I had serious body issues when I first met her, let me tell you!

Anyway... because of their high metabolisms, fat had a hard time sticking to their bodies as children. Well (and I'm sure I'm going to get this story wrong so...Steph, please don't shoot me), as I've heard the story told over and over again, when Steph was Honor's age, she leaned back, lifted up her shirt and announced "look at my bat felly." Cute, right? Yeah.

So now Daddy thinks it is funny to get the kids to talk about their bat fellies--which they don't have. Of course, my kids have me for a mom. I have never been skinny. I had horrible body issues growing up and refused to encourage this "bat felly" nonsense in the off chance that one of my daughters would seriously think she had a fat belly and go through years of dieting at the first sign of a pudge (or what I like to call "the baby waiting area"). But Daddy can't help himself. He is constantly lifting up his own shirt and poking his own belly and saying "look at my bat felly!"

Connor is a Daddy's boy (have I mentioned this before? Think Mini-Me and you won't be far off...) Except for some reason he refuses to say it the "cute" way. So he is constantly leaning back, pulling up his shirt and saying, "Look at my fat belly!" Cute, huh?

****back to Burger King we go****

After lunch, Daddy popped in and told us that he was going to Checkers to get a new battery. Oh. Great. What am I supposed to do now? The kids ate all of their food.

hmmm...

I had a bad day. The kids deserved some ice cream. Chocolate shake! Yum.

While I was in line getting the chocolate shake, a rather large man (and I mean tall as well as wide) came and sat in the booth next to ours. None of my kids said a word. Phew.

When I got back to the table, Honor, Connor and Ariana were seriously on the floor under the bench acting like dogs. I was only away from them for 1 minute! They must have planned this out before we entered the store while Daddy and I were organizing the carryout bags...how else could they perform such organized disobedience?

After I poured half a bottle of Germ-X on their hands, I broke the bad news to them. Since Samuel was the only one "behaving" (he really didn't have a choice, strapped into the high chair as he was...), he was the only one who immediately got to eat his ice cream. I was tempted to take away their ice cream all together, but I got a LARGE. I couldn't eat a large by myself 50 pounds ago. So I compromised. I made them cry big crocodile tears because they weren't going to get any ice cream until Daddy got back with the battery. Then, they could have their ice cream, but only as long as it took Daddy to put the truck back together...and only if they sat quietly until Daddy returned. If they didn't finish before Daddy was done, or if they made too much noise, the shakes were going into the garbage. Their little greedy eyes lit up in anticipation and you have never seen such quiet 3 and 4 year olds. (Mommy has made good on plenty o' threats in the past!)

Just as Daddy pulled into the parking lot, the giant stood up and smiled over at my "well-behaved" children. Aw. How sweet.

"Mommy, look! That man has a fat belly!"

"Shhh. No he doesn't Connor. Eat your ice cream!"

And THAT is why you shouldn't go to Burger King.

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Pasta

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For dinner tonight I made hamburger helper (well, ground turkey helper). The particular kind was Italian Shells and Cheese...yummmmmmm.

I don't make hamburger helper often and I have never made this particular brand before, so when I passed out dinner, the kids asked "What is it?" (well, after eating their garlic toast...)

Mommy: "It's pasta! It's like spaghetti, but with shells instead."

Honor: "Oh. Did you go down to the beach and dig these up for us to eat?"

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What Was That?

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Pillow fight with Daddy. Participants: Daddy, Honor, Connor, Ariana and Samuel. Mommy watches passively from the sofa.

"Oof!"
"OW!"
"OOF!"
"Oh!"

"EVERYONE GET OFF DADDY!" comes the scream from Honor, abruptly halting all activity.

"What is wrong? Why are you crying?" Daddy asks, concerned.

"LKJBIUJWH ALKJOIUCH AKJOI EUR HAKC AHHHHH!"

Mommy bursts out laughing.

Daddy has a little more self-control. "What was that, Honor?"

"KJLKJR.... ARIANA KICKED ME IN THE NOSE!"

"Oh. Okay. Do you want me to kiss it?" In response, Honor climbs into Daddy's lap and he kisses her nose. "There. Is that better?"

"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Daddy loses his self-control and starts laughing. "It used to work! Oh well. I guess that means we have to stop roughhousing now."

Honor jumps up, all traces of tears completely gone. "Okay, Let's Fight!"

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Heroes and Villains

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Connor held a piece of hard plastic with holes in it up to his eyes like a mask.

Mommy: Oh what a great superhero you are!

Connor (in a gravelly voice): I am not a superhero.

Mommy: Oh...what a scary villain you are!

Connor: I'm not a villain...I'm a white guy!


I was very worried that I was somehow raising racist children and started to make mental plans for a trip to the library to get children's books filled with pictures of other cultures and break out one of my favorite movies "The Power of One" (great movie and book, although horribly inappropriate for 4 year olds...) until Daddy piped up. "He's a storm trooper."

Oh. Darth Vader must not be good enough for him anymore....

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