Puppy Eyes

It all began a few years ago after Ross asked when he could get a dog.  The answer, "Not till were living in the country".  That day, a deal was made that Ross would get two dogs when he turned 9.  We'd certainly be living in the country by then and besides, Mike was 9 when he got his beloved Panda dog, therefore 9 would be a good age for Ross to take on that same responsibility.

 

Have I mentioned Ross has a memory of steel?

 

As we get closer and closer to country living, the dog topic has reared it's head.  Last week as Molly was coming down from her Triaminic high, we became aware of 2 ten-month-old border collie/lab pups who needed a home in the country.  I was cautious yet willing to entertain the possibility.  However, Mike's beloved Panda dog was a border collie and the moment he saw pictures of the 2 pups, he was a goner.  On the other hand, I wasn't so sure.  It's really not the right time.  We're not even living in the country yet.  Ross hasn't turn 9 yet.  Lets wait until spring.  Spring would be better. 

 

Mike called the owners to arrange a meeting with the pups.  The dogs were living inside and their only outside time consisted of being tied to a rope. When we arrived, the dogs were hyper, jumping, barking, humping Ross' leg, basically leaving me convinced this was the last thing we needed to deal with.  Meanwhile, Mike was rolling around in the grass, laughing and playing with the dogs as though it was the best thing to ever happen to him.  Crap.

 

Suddenly, I was in a pickle.  As we walked home, I tried to explain the dogs were not going to be a good fit.  Don't we have enough going on as it is?  The kids are not big or strong enough for these high-energy dogs.  No.  The answer is No. 

 

Ross told me he hated me as Mikes face fell.  The battle ensued for nearly a week.  Eventually, Mike sat me down and explained how his parents agreed to keep the dogs at their place until we moved in.  He told me the dogs were the perfect breed for us.  He told me Ross had his heart set on these dogs and we'd made that 9th birthday deal.  He told me he'd take them to classes and have them trained.  He told me they would calm down.  He told me he'd take full responsibility for them.  He told me we'd give these pups a really great life by bringing them to the country.  I sat there, shaking my head and doing my best to avoid eye contact.  That's when he looked at me.  Damn him.  Turns out he's got puppy dog eyes of his own.  Eyes, which he knows turn me to goo.  Add a touch of desperate glossiness to those eyes and I'm dead meat.  With his heart on his sleeve, he told me he wanted those pups even more than our boy did. 

 

So with that being said,

Meet Maverick

 

and his brother, Goose.

 

 

We didn't tell Ross right away because we wanted him to suffer a bit.  We made him write a contract, outlining his responsibilities to the dogs.  He would have to read the contract to the dog owners and ask them to sign it before he could bring the dogs home. 

 

 

 He was nervous... but he did it.

 

 

We've discovered they're not nearly as crazy as we first thought.  They're just puppies and they needed space to run.  They only seem to bark when one can't find the other.  They're tight like that.

 

Welcome to heaven boys.

 

 

 

Lets just say, my 4 boys couldn't be happier.

The Tooth Fairy

Ross has been saving all his baby teeth in a little container in his room.  He's never put a single tooth under his pillow for the tooth fairy... until recently.  He's always been a bit of a hoarder.  However, that's started to change as he's become money-hungry.  The past few nights he's secretly placed a single baby tooth under his pillow (not telling Mike and I as a way to test whether or not the fairy truly exists).  Each morning he's woke to $1 under his pillow in exchange for the tooth.

 

Saturday night Ross threw us for a loop.  Just as Mike was about to make the switch, he noticed the tooth was awfully large.  Turns out Ross had snuck a shark tooth under his pillow; hoping to con the tooth fairy out of $1.

 

He's not that lucky.  Mike and I got a kick out of his attempt and Sunday morning Ross told Mike and I what he had done.  He figured if he could trick the tooth fairy with a shark tooth, he could earn around $50 since he has around 50 shark teeth. 

 

I don't know what this kids' going to grow up to be, however, whatever it is I know he'll be a good one.

 

The shark tooth he'd hoped to con the tooth fairy with. 

Monkeys

It was only a matter of time...

We have monkeys.

Where's My Baby?

I thought I had her all figured out.  She's my funny, kind, stubborn- but not really, sweetheart Moo.

 

Then last Friday happened.  It was the day she got her hands on half a bottle of Nighttime Triaminic Cold and Cough Medicine.  Grape.  Apparently, it's a popular flavor.  Poison Control was called (I've been in touch with them before) and her consumed dosage was calculated based on age and weight.  Sure enough, 12 doses of Benadryl were now floating around in her system, plus 6 or 8 doses of something else I can't pronounce.  Bottom line; she'd be fine.  According to Poison Control, she'd either get a little hyper or really tired, it's really hard to know which way the kiddo will go. 

 

In Molly's case, she turned into Crack Baby, or Chucky, your choice.  Nasty, violent, bossy, rude, persistent, off kilter, and funnier than ever.  The strange thing is that it hasn't really wore off.  I'm wondering if the Triaminic was just a window for a new stage with her.  She's been scratching us, turning the t.v. or radio up full volume just to piss us off, peeing on the rug (on purpose), telling me I'm not her mom, spitting, throwing mac and cheese on the floor (which gets smashed into rug fibers and is now an act of God to remove in His own time), spraying anything and everything with a nozzle to the point our house has layers of hairspray on the walls, Windex on the floors and Febreeze embedded on the rug above the mac and cheese.

 

She insists on showering several times a day and needs her hair "blow dried" after each shower.  I don't know, perhaps that's the secret behind her luxurious head of hair. 

 

After returning from a trip to the pool, I realized Mike had stashed the back of my van with fire-starting twigs and leaves.  I've learned to not ask questions and just go with it.  As I was wrestling a 1-inch plastic toy bear out of the shop vac hose,  I realized something had happened.  Molly's mouth was open, drool dripping off her lips, her face was red, yet she made no sound.  That's never a good sign.  Sure enough, the automatic van door shut on 2 of her fingers.  The good news is the fingers are still attached.  I'm guessing the automatic doors reverse on themselves if there's resistance. (That's what I'm telling myself).  However, I'm secretly hoping it teaches her to quit playing with the dang van doors.  Consequences right? 

 

I have a feeling our 3rd is going to be keeping us on our toes.  Meanwhile, I'm fresh out of hairspray and Windex...

Saturdays With Kratt

Serene Saturday

Footings, Twinsies and Locusts

Last week our footings were poured.

 

 

 

As we watched concrete shoot out of the tube, our conversation naturally shifted to loose bowels, stomach cramps and cleaning toilets.  I'm sure you can imagine.

The word on the street is our foundation won't be poured until next week. 

So we continue to wait.

 

Meanwhile, the girls have matching dresses.  On a recent episode of Disney's 'Jesse' two teenagers dressed alike and called each other "twinsies".

  

'Twinsies' has become the word of the week at our house.

 

Oh, did I mention Molly has a baby?  She does.  Her name is Flower Pie.

 

These photos were taken on Fathers Day at Grandma and Papa Boyd's house.

 

Maisie arranged the fairy garden...

 

while Molly ran in circles to make the back of her dress fly in the wind.

 

 

 

Maisie's become pretty comfortable handling the locusts.  She creates habitats in air-tight jars and waits for the locusts to suffocate.  Keeps her busy.

 

Speaking of locusts, we spied a couple of them mating on our sidewalk yesterday afternoon on our way to the pool.  I swear Ross blushed and acted as though he'd just watched a porn.

Full Moons and Potatoes

It started with a wart.  A $600 wart to be exact.  The wart on Ross' elbow that is stubborn beyond words.  It's been frozen 4 times, treated with the pharmacy's secret wart solution, scooped out with a razor blade, scraped off during a roller-skating accident, smothered in duct tape and treated with beetle juice.  Yet it keeps coming back. 

 

I've always had a teeny-tiny interest in witchcraft.  I'm guessing all it started back in '96 after I checked out that witchcraft book from the Eldridge library.  Eventually the library called to say the book hadn't been returned and I'd be charged for it.  I searched high and low for that book with no success.  I cut up my library card and accepted the fact that I wouldn't check out anymore books from the Eldridge library for as long as I lived.  I ended up finding the book a year later under the seat of my car while packing for college. 

 

It was Aunt Judy who brought up Grandpa Claussen's old wives tale about warts when she visited us.  The theory goes something like this:

 

Under a full moon, you cut a potato in half and rub it on your wart.  Then you bury it without telling anyone where it's buried.  While talking to Papa Green about our plan, he mentioned a few more details.  Apparently, after rubbing it on the wart, you throw it over your left shoulder, wrap it in a rag and bury it in manure.  So there's that.

 

Friday night was the night.  Not only was it a full moon, but it was Friday the 13th.  In sheer desperation, I trespassed into the neighbors horse pasture and into a barn.  I emerged with a shovel-full of manure and boogied back onto our side of the fence.  We waited until nearly 10:00 for the moon to make it's grand appearance. 

 

Ross was responsible for sending a prayer to Grandpa Claussen as he secretly buried the potato in manure.  Only he and Grandpa know where the potato ended up.  Now we wait. 

 

Regardless of the results, I'm pretty sure Grandpa Claussen's gonna make sure Ross never forgets the full moon on Friday, June 13th 2014.

 

 

 

The below photos show how we killed time waiting for the moon to come out...

 

Starting a fire with a magnifying glass.

 

 

Chopping firewood.

 

My family. 

One with a knife, one with an axe, one in a maxi and one without pants.

 

Tiles and Faith

Tiles are set, footings are in, foundation will be poured next week.  We're starting to see the footprint of our house take shape.  Since we've never actually seen our house in real life (only the floorplan on paper), it's exciting to see what we picked.  Hope we like it!

These photos are of the tiles going in.  Each of those grey 2x4 looking planks have little slits in them for water drainage.  The peak of the house is visible just to the right of Ross' head.

The large rectangular section in the center of this photo is our front porch. 

First things first.

The house seems longer and narrower than I pictured.  The whole process baffles me.

Us. 

This is us standing in the hole where our home will be built.  We don't know how long it will take to build, we don't know how much it will cost, we don't even know what it will really look like.  All we know is we have each other and an abundance of faith.  

Ready or not, here we go. 

Strawberry Fest, Cousins and Dad's Garden

 I took my kids on a little adventure to my old stomping grounds.  It all started with the annual Strawberry Festival.  The kids each ran in the fun run.  Yes, the same race that gave us Green kids stomach cramps, dry mouth, unpredictable diarrhea, cold sweats and statements like, "I think I'm just gonna jog it."  So naturally, I couldn't resist signing my kids up for the same memories.

 

Ross was old enough to run the mile while the girls each ran 1/4 mile.  Molly held my hand the majority of her race, Maisie's shoe fell off twice and Ross won 4th place in his age group.  Oh, but hold onto your hats!  These days the Strawberry Fest coordinators give away prizes to kill time while racers await the official race results.  Maisie's name was drawn for a brand new bike as well as a coupon for a cookie at Subway.  Ross commented, "Jeez, Maisie must be having a lucky day."

 

These girls are ready to race.

 

 

Uncle Greg runs with Grace while Aunt Heather runs with Laura. 

 

Maisie and Laura appear to be laughing as they run.

 

I got the honor of running with Molly. 

 

Ross gets focused before the mile race begins.

 

After I snapped this shot, he told me to 'quit-it and go away'. 

Sheesh.

 

I think I pissed him off.

 

Maisie being presented with her new bike.

 

 

Ross rounds the curve with lightening speed.

 

 

Zach, Cole and Ross show off their trophies.

 

I think they were a little excited.

 

The girls thought this dog was pretty awesome.  Since the dog didn't talk, Laura just danced with it. 

Awkward.

 

Racers after the race.

 

Meanwhile, there's now a stuffed fawn residing at my parents house.  Molly couldn't stop petting it.

 

Luckily for GG, the girls are old enough to start helping prepare meals.

 

Zach, Maisie and Molly really hit it off.  Zach gave these flowers to the girls. 

Maisie Daisy and Molly Rose.

 

Cole and Ross were attached at the hip.

 

Aunt Heather and the Maxi-Dress girls

 

 

The boys took a dip.  The next day 2 very, very large snapping turtles were pulled out of this pond.  Yikes!

Turtle Stew anyone?

 

Meanwhile, my dads garden never ceases to amaze me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  Yep, it's official.  The best things in life aren't things.