Dog Daze...

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Almost 2 years ago our beloved Sasha went to doggie heaven. She was 14 years old and seriously the sweetest dog. She was our child before we had the two little humans who inhabit our home now.Shortly after Sasha died, my husband and our children began the search for a replacement. Don’t get me wrong, I loved her, but when she died I assumed that was the end of our dog days. As much as I adored her, I didn’t want another pet. Not because I didn’t want to replace her or my heart was too broken. Our family just doesn’t have the time to give a puppy all the attention it deserves. Sure my husband does all the feeding and playing and training. But what happens when he forgets to pick up dog food, the dog gets sick or has to go out to pee in the middle of the night. That’s right, it’s my job. Since giving birth to my first child, I have enforced a strict rule: I don’t feed, water or play with anything unless I’m required by law to do so. It’s not like I will purposefully ignore the needs of our pets or houseplants, there’s just a good chance I’ll forget to feed or water it. It wasn’t long after we married that my husband decided against sending an innocent houseplant to its inevitable death just because it was our anniversary. Instead he opted for a nice Fichus tree. It’s still as green as it was the day he gave it to me AND it doesn’t shed dead leaves. So back to the dog. The kids and my husband are really starting to put pressure on me about the dog. And now that Christmas is approaching the first thing my youngest says to our “Elf on the Shelf” in the morning is, “Please, please, please Isaac Sprital, make sure Santa brings me a new puppy for Christmas. Amen.”  Usually I completely ignore his request and instead explain to him that if he really wants a puppy it might be a good idea to pray to God, not Santa.  I’m not expert on religion but that’s the kind of thing that might tick The Almighty off. So just last week my husband tried one more time to plead his case to ensure a new puppy might be waiting for us on Christmas morning. My husband, Jay, said, “We really need to start looking to make sure one will be ready by Christmas. Remember how we waited too long last summer and the puppies were all gone.” I completely forgot I told him the puppy store had run out of puppies. I was more shocked that he believed that story. “The boys aren’t ready for an inside dog,” I said.  “I’ll take care of him if the boys don’t.” For the record, this is the same man who said he would have the baby for me if he could when I was in the 15th hour of labor with our second child. “Becky, we live out in the country. Don’t you think it’s a good idea to have a guard dog that will bark and let us know if strangers are coming up the driveway?” “We have a guard dog. Her name is Barbara Andrews and she lives next door. And who is scarier, a fluffy white dog or a white-haired woman wearing a nightgown speeding towards you in a golf cart and holding a loaded shot gun?” “But we could train our puppy to warn you when she’s leaving her house to come over so you can make an escape.” SOLD! The dog will be ready for pickup any day now. UPDATE: We have our new puppy, Shep! He is such a friendly little thing and so smart. It only took 4 days to teach him to bark like a mad dog at my mother in law. by Becky Andrews

In the beginning there were no sleepovers...

When birthday time rolls around for my boy’s one item always listed on their celebration itinerary is ‘sleepover’. We host sleepovers throughout the year but the birthday sleepover is different. Instead of one friend, there could be 5, 6, 7 or 8. Eight was the magic number this year for my youngest child’s birthday soiree. An event of this magnitude is as elusive as Bigfoot to the adolescent. Parents know what goes down at these things. No matter how fun the party, kids just want to stay up all night.

So armed with only pizza, juice boxes, XBOX360 and our wits, my husband and I were ready.

The drop off…

There are three types of parents when it comes to a sleepover.  The concerned, 'are you sure about this’ parent.  This is the same parent pulling away in their car when asking that question. Then there’s the, ‘No take back, who cares if you changed your mind, we’ve already made plans for a date night and nobody is going to keep us from a dinner out where no one spills juice or milk’ parent.  And lastly, the,  ‘Now if he gets scared in the middle of the night, forget my name, forget my number, forget me. He can wait until the morning’ parent. 

When all the boys arrived, we started to get concerned. The adult to child ratio was 2-8. Because of the power shift, we did what any normal parent would do- deleted ‘Lord of the Flies’ from the DVR and braced for a long night.

It begins…

My boys speak in two volumes- mumble and ear-splitting. The mumble is reserved for answering questions about homework, cleaning rooms or brushing teeth. And when you add 6 additional children to that equation you get a noise factor only compared to the background music at Abercrombie & Fitch during the holiday shopping season.  At 11pm after countless rounds of ‘nerf gun war’, wrestling and XBOX, it was time to quiet the troops. At 11:30 it was time to give the troops a reminder.  At 1am, they got their 3^rd ‘reminder’. At 2am it was my husband’s turn. When he didn’t return after 5 minutes and the kids were still as loud as ever I went in as back up.

Every light was on upstairs. It seems our reminders only fed their need to stay up and make us crazy. When I walked into my oldest child’s room, my husband was standing there with a look of both fear and disbelief on his face. Then I noticed what he was looking at. Candy wrappers as far as the eye could see. And in the middle of all that garbage, a very large and now, empty candy jar. The candy jar that was full of kit kats, Snickers and Hershey kisses up until this sleepover. When we asked who ate the candy and took the candy jar out of the playroom, they all stood there, chocolate covering their mouths (and my furniture!) with a look of glazed over confusion. Like a person looks when leaving a casino after 18 hours at the slot machine.  But No one did it? You gotta love that about boys. They weren’t giving up a friend. 

By 4am all was quiet. At 6:30am it started again. The noise, the running, playing, shouting, and laughing. My husband and I looked at each other in the way we did when our boys were newborns. So we did what we did back then… We made coffee and made a note to schedule a vasectomy.

The last child was picked up at noon. We shut the door to our last guest and looked at each other the way we did the last time we hosted a big sleepover. And repeated to our children what we said back then… “You’re both grounded, go to your room!”

A Christmas Interpretation...

A Christmas Interpretation…

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

T’was the night before Christmas and all through the house Not a gift had been purchased without the click of a mouse. The stockings sat upright on the living room floor, No chimney meant Santa would be using the door. The children complained about going to bed And because the XBOX controller batteries were dead! Mom and Dad in work clothes, trying to wrap Not believing that once again, they bought all of this crap2011 was a tough year for most That American Dream seemed to be toast. Unemployment was high and moral low Home values were falling, instead of the snow But along comes Christmas and with it brings hope That things will get better, and somehow we cope So back to my story about Christmas Eve I promise it gets better so please don’t leave So around 2am we heard a loud clatter, Unless the house was on fire I say it didn’t matter. But dad got up just to be sure How much more of this season could he possibly endure? The gifts and parties and store after store The happiest season had turned to a bore. When he rounded the corner he saw the living room tree But you’ll never guess what else he did see. It was a jolly old man in typical dress Eating the cookies and making a mess “Am I dreaming?” he thought but just couldn’t move He was the only one watching, so this would be tough to prove. The jolly old Santa he wrote letters to Asking him for Tonka, Star Wars and super gross Goo He’d given up on Santa a long time ago. But now his Christmas spirit was starting to grow Of course he was dreaming and woke up just in time To see the kids wrestling and laughing, that dream was a sign. So please give up worry and keep fighting the good fight. "Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."