Rodents and Roatan

Wow. Sorry. It’s been awhile since the last post. I always promise to do better, and then life gets in the way. Let’s see…what have we been up to that I can sum up in one neat little package called a blog post?

Today, being Groundhog Day, the media has been obsessed with discussing the mental state and hallucinations of some silly rodent in Philadelphia. So what if it saw a shadow because today, after almost forgetting what the thing is called because it hasn’t been visible for 8 weeks, the silly sun decides to shine. So we’ll base our spirits on the news that the overgrown rat saw its shadow, which somehow scientifically affects the weather and will make it cold and snowy for at least 8 more weeks. We’ve already had one of the snowiest winters on record, so what’s 8 more weeks of the depressing white cover that quickly turns into disgusting sludge along the side of the roads and under the car? (and inevitably ends up as splatter on the back of my pants when I'm trying my best to tiptoe through it in the parking lots...grrr)

My mind is taking me back to the first week of December. I was in a much happier place then. See folks, our family decided to head south. (and I’m not talking within the U.S.) When we go south, we really go south. We went on a cruise (again) to the Caribbean. The weather was WARM (what’s that like) and while Omaha was getting slammed with the first 12” of snow for they year, we were on a beautiful sunny beach in Roatan. My biggest complaint of that day was I forgot to reapply sun block after my massage on the beach. Oh what I’d give to go back there again now.

R1 is now officially a seasoned cruiser. She thinks any vacation begins once you set foot on a boat. Deuce travelled very well also. He enjoyed the sunshine and played some in the water. His favorite part was watching the ocean go by while sitting on mom’s lap on the balcony of our room. It’s in those moments that all was right with the world. (for both of us)





(Or maybe it was this moment, when he napped on the beach after his beach massage...)



We travelled with both sets of our parents as well as some friends. All together (counting the kids) there were 14 of us in our group. We danced, dined and dove the week away. It was beautiful and fantastic. We made memories that will last a lifetime. It was one of the best Christmas gifts we could have possibly given each other. Who knows, it may become a tradition. Let me know when you want me to start planning for next year! It’s only 10 months away!!

You know you live in Nebraska when...

…in the span of one month you have had high’s in the 80’s and high’s (yes, I said high’s) in the 30’s.

You know you live in Nebraska when…
…in the span of one month you have experienced the following weather phenomenon: Thunderstorms, flurries, snowstorms and rain, all within a few days of each other.

You know you live in Nebraska when…
…in the span of one month you get to see green leaves on trees, red leaves on trees, yellow leaves on trees, brown leaves on trees, then there’s no leaves on trees…

You know you live in Nebraska when…
…in the span of one day, you go from the temperature in the morning (when it’s still dark outside) of 62 degrees to the temperature when you drive home (while it’s still light outside) of 42 degrees.

You know you live in Nebraska when…
…the weatherman tells you the forecast is for possible snow flurries and you end up waking up to this…

You know you live in Nebraska when…
…your daughter walks out of the house in the morning and tells you “Mommy, it smells like snow out here!” (and then a few days later, it snows)

For the record, I love living in Nebraska.

What do you know, Bo?

Yeah, yeah, I know, it’s been awhile since I’ve update all of you on the happenings over at our place. Please understand, life has been very busy for us this summer.

A couple of months ago, our beloved dog, Ozzy, got very sick and we had to make the difficult decision to put him down. This was a very hard day for our family. Ozzy was our “test” child and he was a TERRIFIC dog. He is buried out on Grandma’s farm under a tree in the field. Rest in Peace Ozzy.

For about a week, things were very quiet after Ozzy’s passing. Then, the first night J wasn’t able to come home after work due to having to work the soundboard at the Omaha Royals Baseball game and I found myself alone with the kids at home, I decided that we needed another set of K9 eyes and ears around. There’s just something very comforting about having a dog around to see and hear things that are out of place. So I began my quest to find the next perfect dog.

We found Bo on an add on Craigslist. He was in a small town in Nebraska about a 2 hour drive from Omaha, but he was just what we were looking for. He is a German Shepherd pup mixed with Rottweiler and Brussels Griffin Terrier. He was about 2 ½ months old when we “adopted” him and has grown like a weed so far. And most importantly, he was free.

So far, Bo has been adapting well to life with us. His biggest problem is he has an unlimited supply of puppy energy. He seems to do very well in his kennel and has not had an accident while in it. (We have had a few accidents in the house, but they are becoming less frequent) He is learning to sit and lay down, although he seems to think that if he does the command for only one second that it counts. We are still working on “stay”. That one seems very hard for him to comprehend, although, I shouldn’t be surprised, he doesn’t really ever stop moving, so that command will probably be the most difficult for him to learn.

J took him out for a little target practice the other day to find out if he was at all gun-shy. Bo passed that test with flying colors. J now wants me to research how to train him to be a hunting dog in the hopes that one day he’ll be able to take him pheasant hunting or something of the sort. (one of the commands he’ll need to learn for that is “stay” so we’ll see.) It may be a bit early to start his training on that, but in the meantime we’ll keep letting him hang around when J does his target practice and see what develops.

Eerily, Bo looks a lot like Ozzy did with similar markings and coloring. He does seem to be much more “leggy” than Oz, but lacks a lot of the bulk Oz had. I’m not expecting him to get quite as big as Oz was (Oz was over 100lbs.) but I estimate he’ll get into the 80lb. range give or take 5lbs. or so. He’s got rather large feet, and doesn’t seem to be able to do anything with anything that resembles grace. We’ll see if he gets less clumsy once he grows into those feet.

So, in closing, welcome to the family, Bo. You’ve got some mighty big paws to fill.

The Girls Must Look Tired

The other morning we were rushing around like usual, getting ready to face our days at the office (and babysitter). It was a normal morning in our household, 3 of us rushing around in our semi-organized chaos and R2 silently watching it all unfold in front of him. J and I were in a state of half dress, working on getting fully dressed. R1 had instructions of her own to go get herself dressed and she wanted to join J and me in our room for a little “family” dressing time. In the usual fashion of R1, she was jabbering on about various things when I heard her say, “Mommy, I’m going to wear hanging boobs like you when I grow up.” J about lost it. But managed to keep a relatively straight face in the moment. Now a multitude of responses went through my mind in the few seconds following her remark, but I decided simple was the best approach, so I responded with “Probably so.” To which she says, “Yeah, like when I’m a teenager.” And proceeded to walk out of the room. Now the laughter that J was doing so well to hold in came bursting forth. I looked over to him, looked down at my chest, and said, “They don’t look that bad, do they?” and pulled my shirt down over my head. Finally, dressed for the day.

R1’s observation about my “girls” got me to thinking more about them. These two “gals” have been through a lot in the last few years. These magnificent mammaries have been a source of food for 2 children. R1 nursed for just a few weeks past 1 year, and R2 has preferred them to any artificial source of food or comfort (bottles and pacifiers) since his birth, just a mere 4 months ago. I’m going to brag here just a bit, but I’m still amazed that he hasn’t had to have one drop of formula during his life to date, which for a working mom is quite an accomplishment. It also means that not only have my “girls” been introduced to the wonderful art of breastfeeding, but they have also gotten to know Medela (my breast pump) very well. So well in fact, that I have over 125 oz. of milk frozen in my freezer on any given day. R2 is starting to gain and make a dent in his popsicles, but for the most part, I’m replacing what he consumes.

(I refer to breastfeeding as an art because it takes a creative mind and a little luck, to figure out how to successfully hold a squirming child with one hand while with the other hand undoing those tricky little clasps on nursing bras while lifting up a shirt AND managing to somehow keep a blanket draped over the whole event so one doesn't accidentally flash boob flesh to anyone happening to be looking.)

The girls have also served another purpose for R1 and R2. These girls have been the soft pillow for tired heads on countless occasions. They have been the padding to soften the blows of skinned knees, bumped heads, bruised shins, stubbed toes and pinched fingers. In their squishy glandular form, they have been napped on, cried on, drooled on and spit up on. Yet despite all the punishment I have put them through in the last few years, they continue to “hang around’, waiting to solve the next problem I decide to throw their way. There have been times when R2 is really fussy and just can’t seem to get that darned gassy burp all the way out. The remedy to this problem seems to be to place his belly directly on top of the left breast, push in with just the right amount of pressure and pat his lower back. This technique has produced results almost every time.

These “ta-ta's” may not always be the prettiest or the perkiest. They aren’t often seen in cutsie little tank tops or sexy lace bras. It’s not easy to find lingerie or a swimsuit in a size needed to offer them adequate support they so much deserve after their dedicated years of service, but I’m not trading them in. Nope, these gals are mine, and I’m proud of them, high or low, thick or thin, left and right, they’re not going anywhere...these peepers are keepers. I just hope they don’t start to drift below the belt. Keep your heads up girls! Stand proud! (Please??) You’ve earned it!

Lessons in Life, Through Death

Have you ever tried explaining death to a small child? It’s not as simple as you might think. There are a lot of questions involved, and it’s difficult to put emotions aside to answer them all honestly.

Grandma K (J’s grandmother) passed away recently. This was a Grandma that R1 had quite a bit of interaction with. We took her to the viewing. This was her first time seeing a deceased person that closely. (When my Grandma P passed in Dec, we didn’t go up close to the casket while it was still open, she knew her body was in the big box, but she didn’t really see it) I tried my best to prepare her for what she would see while on the way to the mortuary. Leave it to a child to provide the comic relief at such a somber event. Grandma J took R1 up to see the body, which was lying on a table with her lower half covered with a sheet, and explained to R1 that she was in heaven now with all the angels. R1 looked down at her body for a minute and asked “All of her?” Grandma J said, “Yes honey, all of her, she’s in Heaven now.” R1 looked at her body again and shook her head. “Just her legs are in Heaven, because the rest of her is still here.”

It was just the thing that Grandma J needed to hear in that moment. To be able to bring laughter to someone grieving is a talent. Seeing a smile on the tear stained face of my mother in law was priceless. I’ll forever remember the image of my mother in law holding my daughter in the funeral home crying and laughing at the same time.

I truly believe that children are God’s way of helping us find smiles and laughter during even the darkest times.

Rest in Peace Grandma, we’ll all miss you.

1th...errr...1st

The other day I was rushing around as usual in the morning, getting ready for work, and asked R1 if she had everything she wanted ready to take to the sitters for the day. She asked to take the Robot movie with her. (this is an animated musical DVD that is really neat to watch. You can check out the Animusic Videos here: http://www.animusic.com/ She's been mesmerized by both of these DVD's since we bought them when she was about 1 year old.)

Anyhoo...I went and grabbed the one that has been her favorite and tossed it in the bag of items that was to go with us to the sitters for the day. She seemed concerned that maybe I didn't grab the correct one because she asked,
"What one did you get, Mommy?"
I told her that I got her favorite one. To which she replied,
"But I want the oneth one."
"The what one?"
"The ONETH one."
"Oh, you mean the FIRST one."
"Yeah, the first one." (while holding up one finger) "Make sure you got that one."

I absolutely LOVE talking to kids. The English language is so complex to teach. But hey, she's getting the idea!

-A

BBQ Rules

This was sent to me in an e-mail from a friend. I found it so truthful and funny, I had to share it with all of you.

B B Q RULES

We are about to enter the summer and BBQ season. Therefore it is important to refresh your memory on the etiquette of this sublime outdoor cooking activity, as it's the only type of cooking a 'real' man will do, probably because there is an element of danger involved.

When a man volunteers to do the BBQ the following chain of events are put into motion:

Routine...

(1) The woman buys the food.
(2) The woman makes the salad, prepares the vegetables, and makes dessert.
(3) The woman prepares the meat for cooking, places it on a tray along with the necessary cooking utensils and sauces, and takes it to the man who is lounging beside the grill - beer in hand.

Here comes the important part:

(4) THE MAN PLACES THE MEAT ON THE GRILL.

More routine.....

(5) The woman goes inside to organize the plates and cutlery.
(6) The woman comes out to tell the man that the meat is burning. He thanks her and asks if she will bring another beer while he deals with the situation.

Important again:

(7) THE MAN TAKES THE MEAT OFF THE GRILL AND HANDS IT TO THE WOMAN.

More routine....

(8) The woman prepares the plates, salad, bread, utensils, napkins, sauces, and brings them to the table.
(9) After eating, the woman clears the table and does the dishes.

And most important of all:

(10) Everyone PRAISES and THANKS HIM for his cooking efforts.
(11) The man asks the woman how she enjoyed 'her night off.' And, upon seeing her annoyed reaction, concludes that there's just no pleasing some women....