Corn and Dog Trouble

Tonight I sent this story to a dear friend in an e-mail.  I decided the story is blog worthy.

"Ok - so, here's a little story about my evening. I think it will serve three purposes for you. 1 - it might make you laugh. I rolled my eyes a little about my predicament. 2 - it will serve as a warning, as a fellow canine owner with corn dog loving children you need to be aware of this. 3 - It will prepare you for the inevitable.

 So, tonight I make the kids corn dogs and baked fries for dinner (I know, eating like champions). First, Max pretends that he has eaten his really fast, but eventually shows us that he has bitten off the top, and then shoved the stick of the corndog down the front of his pants with the rest sticking out of his wasteband so that it looks like........ Nevermind. You don't want to know what it looks like.  He thought he was pretty funny.  Then, after a few minutes he is whining that he dropped his corn dog and Truman ate it. I told him that's too bad and he can have a banana. I don't know why I was on such a phallic symbol roll for dinner tonight. Anyway, half an hour later I start to wonder - where is the corn dog stick? I search around and find fragments of it on the floor that equal maybe a quarter of a stick total. Great. My dog has corn dog stick ripping up his guts. So, I call the vet to find out what to do. He tells me to give Truman bran cereal for a few days to "bulk up his bowels and help it pass through." Now, I ask you, what family with an average age under fifty has All-Bran sitting around? The Commissary is closed for the night at this point, it's after 8 P.M. I stop by the gas station to see if they have anything - no such luck. So, at this point, Max and I have to make the hour long trip to town and back to get All-Bran for our corn dog stick eating dog. And that, is my Saturday night."

 

 

The Experiment Begins

One of the factors that I had to consider when thinking about this little experiment was cost, obviously. When the manager from the hotel that I had looked into called and told me what she could do for me, it sealed the deal. The price was so good that when she said it's usually a $200 per night room, but I'll give it to you for "blah blah blah", I said "you mean one-blah blah blah?" She said no, just "blah blah blah". I considered it a sign from heaven that I should definitely take this opportunity. So, for the next couple weeks this will be our home.

The room is perfect. It's got a king bed and a pull out couch. That means that during the day, when the couch is folded up, there's a little bit of room for the kids to play on the floor - something you don't get in the traditional size hotel rooms. It even has a rocker/recliner, which is awesome for rocking Jack to sleep. Every morning there's the usual Holiday Inn style breakfast - which includes some kind of eggs, breakfast meat, cinnamon rolls, pancakes, cereal, yogurt, pastry's, biscuits and gravy, bagels, etc. We've been eating this already for two weeks now and Israel is tired of it, but the kids and I don't mind it.

We have a small fridge and a microwave in our room, so for the other meals of the day it will be sandwiches or microwave food. Every few days we get hungry for something "real", so there are a few options in town, but not many. The nearest McDonalds (not that I consider McDonalds "real", this is just to give you an idea of our isolation) and Walmart are an hour away! That's kind of insane in my world. Yesterday for lunch we stopped at a place called the "Bear Trap." It looked like a hunting lodge inside and out. Complete with at least 5 different kinds of stuffed animals hanging on the walls. For environment, this really wasn't my style, but the smell coming from inside lured us in. The Upper Peninsula of Michigan is wild about Pasties apparently. I got to know pasties when I lived in England, I didn't have them a ton, but I liked the idea of them. Meat, vegetables and potatoes baked into a pastry shell. The story I heard of their origins was that farmers wives made them to send out into the fields for their husbands to enjoy for lunch. Anyway, several months ago I had gotten a little longing for them, so I had tried to make my own using my recipe for shepherds pie and some crescent roll dough. They were ok. But, the "Bear Trap" really knows how to do them. Quincy and I shared one yesterday and it was awesome. I have a feeling we'll be stopping by the Trap every now and then - I'll get a picture next time.

Israel leaves for Minot today. I'm a little nervous. One thing I've learned over the past couple weeks is that hanging out in a hotel room with the kids, ok, really it's with Max, can make you crazy. That kid just has too much energy to be safely contained in one room. So, my plan is just to plan. I think we'll go for a morning venture each day, return for naps, and then do the beach in the afternoon. There are plenty of places for us to explore each morning. Last night I took a look at the map and used the internet to figure out something for today. Hopefully I'll get the chance to post some pictures tonight or tomorrow. I'm a little nervous to see how things will go without Israel, he helps with the kids a lot when he's around, but I am pretty familiar with doing it by myself when I need to, it's all going to be about my attitude.

As I waved goodbye to Cindi, my neighbor of the last year, I said "you should consider making yourself homeless, it opens up all kinds of options." I stand by that.

An Experiment In Living

An Experiment in Living. That is what Henry David Thoreau called his time at Walden Pond. He "went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived."

I find myself now contemplating my own little experiment in living. At present our family is in a unique situation - basically we are homeless. Due to a tangled web of events, involving difficulty with board exams, flooding in North Dakota, and few other things, it was necessary that we move out of our home on June 18, with no where particular to move into. We stashed our household items in a neighbors garage and off we went. We have been living in a hotels for the bast 9 days.

Although it's not exactly economically sound in general to live your life in a hotel, it's kind of nice. For the past ten days there has been no expectations on me to clean or cook. I've had plenty of time to play and swim and do whatever the kids wanted me to. I don't even have to make any beds if I don't feel like it. It's not the life for everyone...but I kind of like it.

Things are slowly starting to fall into place. Israel passed the exam, and will need to report to Minot AFB, in Minot, North Dakota no later that July 5th. However, the city is experiencing a catastrophic flood, and much of the area is under mandatory evacuation orders. We have been advised that it's probably not a good time to come and try to find somewhere to live there at the moment. So, the kids and I need to find another place for ourselves. Utah is always an option, and we will eventually make our way there. However....

We spent the past few days in Northern Michigan, on a family vacation that we had been thinking about taking for several months now. After visiting Mackinaw City, and Mackinaw Island we made our way to Munising, Michigan, and Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore. The place is AMAZING. So beautiful, so peaceful. Awesome, perfect beaches where Quincy and Max literally spent hours entertaining themselves. I would show pictures, but the cable hooking my camera to the computer is stored in someone's shed right now. Anyway, in a few days Israel will be off to North Dakota, and the kids and I will need to find somewhere to "be". And that's where Munising comes in. You see, I'm considering taking the kids and spending several weeks just enjoying them and life in this beautiful place. I imagine us going out and exploring every day, and knowing every little spot and area of that beautiful forest. Life would be simple, we'd stay at the hotel and be safe and secure. We'd swim in the pool or the lake everyday. They could have all my attention because I would not have to be bothered with the usual tasks of tending a home. Because we have not rent or mortgage to pay right now, our housing money can really be used however we want. This just might be the chance of a lifetime, and things have "not worked out" perfectly to set it up. On the other hand, I might just be setting myself up for disaster. I would be "alone". Inevitably there will come the day when I have just had enough, and need to have a little time to myself - will the seashore offer enough distraction for them to give me a few minutes peace? What do you think - do I throw myself into this little experiment I am considering, or hop onto I-80 and make time?

"I Am Slowly Going Crazy, One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Switch,..."

I enjoy writing, and I use this blog primarily as a place to write. I also enjoy my job, stay at home mom, and frequently write about how I feel about my job. Sometimes, however, I have considered that my blog does not really reflect every aspect of my job very well. You see, I only write when I feel inspired, and I usually only feel inspired when I feel happy. So someone who has read very much of what I write, might get the impression that life in this camp is always a bowl of cherries. Not so, I just don't feel like writing when it's lemons. Anyway, I like to keep things real, and it just so happens that I have felt like writing this week, and it's also been a really, really, hard week.

I think Max has officially turned three. His third birthday was 4 months, 23 days ago, but the switch didn't go off until approximately five days ago. I will always love that boy, but he's been really hard to like this week. Everything, and I mean everything, has become a fight with him - from meals, to baths, to breathing. He's thrown tantrums on a level that I wouldn't have even thought he was capable of. I've lost track of how many times I've been told that he hates me. Every night he has left me feeling like a wind up toy wound so tight that it's about to break.

Yesterday he was being a pain for Israel when we were in a bookstore. Israel helped him and Quincy pick out a book to buy while I ran a couple errands in the mall. Israel was in line to make the purchase and Max was misbehaving, so I grabbed Max to head to the car, and told Israel not to buy Max's book - the deal was that they got the books for behaving, and he wasn't. Picture me pushing a stroller with Jack, and carrying Max, who's not that little anymore, while he is flailing and shrieking for everyone in the store to see and hear. I think he kicked over some display as we were walking out, I didn't stop to look because I'm sure the store people would prefer to just have us out while they pick up the mess. When we finally got to the car, he was hysterical, and refused to sit in his seat and get buckled. Israel struggled with him for several minutes, and then I tried. Finally I gave up, and spoke loudly over his yelling to tell him "Fine! You won't have any buckles and if we get in an accident you'll die!" Then I turned around to see about six people watching the spectacle - some glaring at me, and some with their mouths hanging open. I sure felt like a good mom with my car full of kids.

The good news to all of this is that I know it will pass. I remember that Quincy did the exact same thing at nearly the exact same age. I remember sending a note with her on the first day of pre-school letting her teacher know that I had a very "spirited" child (that's code for strong-willed, which is code for brat), and that I'd appreciate it if we could just communicate openly about anything my child might do. I bet that teacher just chuckled at this first time mom. Quincy never got into much trouble that year, and she has matured and grown beautifully. I even got a note from her first-grade teacher a couple weeks ago, letting me know about something kind that Quincy had done, and telling me I should be proud of her. Quincy was once not very likeable as well, and now she is a delight. I look forward to Max moving through this stage and becoming delightful too.

Max has been just one of my challenges this week. Israel has been working 60+ hours per week for the last month. I realized yesterday I'd actually forgotten that that's not "normal". That I wouldn't be spending all day every day by myself with the kids forever. I love being with the kids, generally, but doing it all, by yourself, day in and day out can kind of burn out anyone I think. Tonight is the last night of this rotation, and I couldn't be more ready.

Jack is a sweatie, but he's high maintenance. I don't know what it is about my babies, but they just don't self-entertain, so if they are awake, then I am occupied, and the minute they go to sleep I'm racing to get as much done as I can.

Anyway, to be perfectly honest, sometimes this job makes me feel like I am slowly going crazy. Tonight at the gym a song came on my ipod that I listened to over and over again. One of the lines says "This is not what I intended, I always swore to you I'd never fall apart. You always thought that I was stronger. I may have failed, but I have loved you from the start. " The truth is, that in one way or another I think every parent fails. None of us are perfect, and while we are busy making sure that we didn't make the mistakes that we can so clearly see that our own parents made, we're making many of our own. I fall apart every once in a while. Quincy sees me being a person that I don't want to be, and she's old enough that she'll remember it. But I hope that what she really sees is that, although I fail her at times, I have loved her from the start. Oh, how I have loved her, and Max, and Jack. So sane or not, it's my job, and I'm going to do the best I can to hold it together. After all, you cannot taste the sweet if you do not know the bitter.

"You're writing that down, aren't you?"

I call my mom on a nearly daily basis to tell her the funny things that come out of Quincy's mouth. She always says "you're writing that down, aren't you?" I always say I will, but....... Anyway, I am going to want to remember these things, so I may as well blog them. Here's what I got this morning. We were in a hurry to get somewhere, so Quincy took a shower with me. When we were drying off she said "Mom, you've got four mosquito bites on your bum." No, I have not been hanging around outside naked, these mosquitos sting through multiple layers of clothes. Anyway, I said "Why would a mosquito want to sting me on my bum?" Her reply "Maybe it's the juiciest part." She's going to be a brilliant scientist someday.

Pictures

Q and Mickey.

Q and Mommy

Max was enthralled by the Jedi Training Academy

On their way to nowhere in particular.

Poor Max - he will always be mashed in the middle.

A Bee at the Toledo Zoo

Yes, she had painted her own face.

She made bunny ears for herself at school, and then some for everyone at home.

The boy sipping hot chocolate while.....

The girl learns how to ski!

Joyful Sacrifices

Yesterday I was sitting in the foyer of Quincy's school reading a book and minding my own business. I do that for half an hour every Friday morning, that half hour in-between the time she heads to class and I show up to help with centers. I really love that half hour of sitting, reading, making a shopping list, and watching kids walking as fast as they can down the hallway without actually running, their little bodies jerking unnaturally as they try to make their stiff legs move faster and faster. This week Mrs. G joined me on the bench. She and her husband volunteer at the school so much, that if I didn't know better I would think they worked there. She started talking about how excited she was to be going to her nephews graduation from medical school. I smiled proudly and told her that I had just attended my husbands graduation from medical school. Then she started telling me how in debt they are, that she had personally co-signed on some of his loans, and how he'll be working like 80 hours a week for the next several years and making something akin to $8 per hour. I smiled again, a little smaller smile, and told her I know how that goes - or at least I know that I will know. Then Mrs. G starting talking about how her nephews wife is pregnant again, and how she is not using her 4 year degree, and why are they having another child when they are barely making it to start with? I don't think I smiled this time, I thought about the 4 year degree that I haven't really put to practical use yet, and I looked down at my belly that's 7 months pregnant, and I didn't really know how to respond to her. Luckily at that moment Mr. G came along, hit her with a newspaper, and I got my chance to slip away to the kindergartners.

Seventeen years ago, when I was only fourteen, a very wise man who loved me very much, my grandfather, told me that my "children will a blessing to you; the greatest joy in your life." At that time I thought "well, ya, that's pretty generic, any mother will say that her children are a joy to her," but I was also pretty involved in the care of my siblings, and had an inkling of the amount of work that children are. I really didn't comprehend how the word joy could truly be what I would feel when I got to have that work for my own. Now, with 2.75 of my own, I realize how incredibly wise and inspired my grandfather was. My children truly are a great joy, the greatest joy in my life.

The Cambridge English Dictionary defines joy simply: "great happiness; a person or thing which causes happiness." Such simple definitions for so great an emotion.

Last month, around Mothers Day, I was thinking about the sacrifices that mothers make for their children. It starts early with days, weeks, months (depends on who you are) of nausea and vomiting. Then there's the general tiredness and fatigue. Soon awkward, stretched, and lumbering join in. Then the pain. After that more fatigue, this time due to the lack of deep sleep. Then more lack of sleep, and more lack of sleep. Then there's the not getting to sit all the way through a meal, because inevitably the baby is fussiest right when you sit down for a minute. There's the inconvenience of nursing. I know, I know, they say nursing is totally convenient, but I beg to differ. If I didn't know that nursing was best for my child, it would be Similac all the way - really, who likes to have to partially undress and risk exposure of that whenever they go out? It's why I never leave my house for 12 months after each child - they don't like to stay under the blanket. Eventually you get to give up any "thinking in your own head" that you may like to do, because two year olds never shut up, and you will feel like you no longer have your own head. Then you get to give up any television programs you enjoy, or evening activities you might like, because 4 year olds stay up for at least part of prime-time, and they ask what words mean. And once you get them to bed you're too tired to enjoy what's left of primetime. I'm sure I'll have things to add to this list the older my children get.

So, Mrs. G., why do we do this to ourselves, on purpose? Because, children can be our greatest joy. All of these sacrifices, and more, somehow bring us joy. I forget all the pregnancy misery for a few moments when I hold my brand new baby and feel their soft hair on my cheek. It only takes a few weeks of my 18 month old (yes, mine take that long) sleeping through the night to forget how tired I was for the previous two years. And somehow, I've learned to enjoy meals, even when I have to get up 5 times for different things, in fact, on the rare occasion when Israel and I go out alone and have a meal, it seems rather boring. Don't tell Israel. Breastfeeding, well, I never forget how much I dislike that, but baby's do get weened, eventually

. When it comes to no longer having my own head, well, whatever used to go on inside my melon was pretty dull compared to what goes on with Quincy and Max in there. I don't mind sharing with them at all. Not to mention how awesome it feels when you realize that useful things from your head have transferred to theirs, and they begin doing things like counting by two's, and reading. No more grown up TV or personal time (I guess if you like to stay up late you get it, but I just don't) - well, I love the evening snuggles, and Disney Movies, and all that other stuff was just trash anyway.

People talk about how lucky you are if you love your job. As far as I'm concerned, these kids are my job right now, and I don't think I'll ever have another job that will bring more joy. I admit, I do think about the day when I can further my education, and put those degrees to work in a way that will make the world a better place. I look forward to the days when I only have to get myself dressed. I look forward to evenings when I can read, or garden, or watch grown up TV, or go out with friends. But right now, I'm lucky, because I'm really enjoying what I do everyday - the little routines - dressing, feeding, teaching, nurturing, playing, working, enjoying, right now these things bring me joy. And if anything is sacrificed, it's a joyful sacrifice.

I'm Gonna Miss This

I love being a mom. Yea, there are hard days, but right now I'm kind of in an "easy" period. Max is old enough that he sleeps pretty well. As long as I can get my sleep then life is easy. It seems like lately I've been painfully aware that "these are the days." Somehow I know, that when the story of my life is told, this is going to be one of the best parts, but I also know that it will pass much too quickly. Sometimes I feel like I can't savour things enough, I can't get enough of those special moments with Quincy and Max.

Today is one of those days when I planned on feeling stressed. I had alot of things to do and I knew I was going to be busy all day, and I thought it was going to be a hard day to get through. Luckily I'd had a good nights rest and was feeling pretty cheerful. I was in the middle of slathering 50 potatoes with shortning when I looked over to see this.

I'll admit, that sometimes I might look over to see that and get a little ornery about the mess and the wasting. Today all I could do was smile at the little guy. You may be able to hear some of the song in the background, it just happened to be on a cd that I was listening to at the moment. It fits this moment in time perfectly. It's "You're Gonna Miss This" by Trace Adkins. One of the versus says:

Five years later there's a plumber workin' on the water heater
Dog's barkin', phone's ringin'
One kid's cryin', one kid's screamin'
She keeps apologizin' He says: They don't bother me,
I've got 2 babies of my own.
One's 36, one's 23.

Huh, it's hard to believe, but ...

-Chorus-

You're gonna miss this
You're gonna want this back.

You're gonna wish these days hadn't gone by so fast
These Are Some Good Times,

So take a good look around
You may not know it now
But you're gonna miss this

I know that all too soon these days are going to be gone. Oh how I'll miss them. I am going to want them back, I know that. I had the same feeling one day a couple weeks ago. Some great friends were over. I've been so blessed to be able to find the best friends wherever I've been. People who are my family away from family in every sense of the word. Heavenly Father knows how much I need them. Anyway, the friends were over, the kids were swimming, and we were sipping lemonade out in the yard. I almost felt guilty for having such a great "job". I remember distinctly knowing that "these are the days." These are the one's I'm going to long for someday. These are the ones that I'll re-live over and over in my mind someday when I'm sitting in my rocker. I'm so thankful for these days, these kids, these friends.

Abused Kids

I was just looking through the pictures that I had taken this past week and realized that they looked more like pictures that would be found on a camera belonging to Child Protective Services than pictures that a mother took of her lovely children.  Here they are.  

Do you agree?  Max has a giant growth on his head from a mosquito bite, well,  I think that's what it is. Quincy sometimes blows up like that too when she gets them.  Quincy's knees are not going to survive the summer.  One day a couple weeks ago she was running into school and tripped and skinned them pretty good - we got our first experience in the school nurses office that day.  We kept band-aids on them for several days and THE DAY we took them off, she fell again at a park and tore the scabs right off.  So, we doctored them up and bandaged them again, for several more days.  I decided that she could have bare knees for the last day of school, and that morning, what to you expect - she ran into school again and tripped again!  Another trip to the nurses office. I couldn't believe it, they were looking pretty bad - these pictures were taken that day after school.  As if this story couldn't get any longer - tonight I was out with her and she was on her bike.  We were going along a fishing pier and she got caught up in watching someone reel one in, and down she goes, AGAIN.  Poor girl - good thing she's tough - I know that one of these days and innocent sidewalk is going to get more than they bargained for when they pick on her.

It's Been A While.....

It's been a while since I last posted, I just haven't been in the mood for blogging. Julia has started to get so that every conversation involves a passionate and guilt provoking dissertation on how she's missing out on the lives of my children. She gets that way every time I take a break. I don't know why she doesn't just come visit if she wants to see these kids. I guess I can put something up. ;)

This is one of those video's that most people will just find boring, but it makes me laugh, and I think Grandma will like it. Quincy's going to be famous one day ;) This actually reminds me. When Quincy started school she taught me this song that they sing everyday at the beginning of class. The words are "Rise, and shine, and welcome to school today........" It had this tune that I had never heard before, but we sing it together all the time and I have learned it pretty well. A couple of weeks ago parents were invited to come in for a special craft day at school. The teacher let them sing their "Welcome to School Today" song, and lo and behold, it's to the tune of that camp song "....rise and shine and give God your glory...." I would never have known - Quincy loves to sing, but she cannot carry a tune. I'm pretty embarrassed by how dirty the rug behind her is in this picture, and I know that maybe you wouldn't have noticed it if I hadn't said anything. Anyway, I'm embarrasses, but I'm gonna be real. Yes, sometimes the carpet gets dirty and I take pictures before I have had the chance to clean it.

I've been so lazy with posting, that I haven't even put anything up to show our Christmas. Most of the people we knew here went away, so we spent the day as a family. Poor Max tripped on his pants that were a little too long, and got a giant gash/bump on his head. He loved the potatoes though.

Laura introduced us to "Fancy Nancy" last time we were in Utah. Nancy is a little girl who loves to be fancy, just like Quincy. She speaks alot of french and uses fancy words. She's a girl after Quincy's own heart. Quincy loves it when we use our flutes for "bubbly." She can often be heard quoting Nancy "Ooh la la, my family is posh." Yea, we are so posh. The word she is saying here is "Merci".

There's something I just love about this picture, maybe I can talk one of my photoshopping friends into removing the food from her face, and putting her on a cooler background - I just love the face....

Julia specifically asked for some pictures of Max, so here's the little guy, just hanging out with Israel's feet. You can see that two weeks after Christmas, he still has a little scar on his head.

My friend Ruth gave us these awesome Red Velvet cupcakes one night, as you can see Max loved them and snuck in for late night snack...

Here's the boy hard at work with his dad.

I let his hair grow a little longer during the winter. I really like it that way, but the only way I know to cut hair is with clippers and I just can't seem to get the hang of cutting the long hair with clippers. It's shorter now, but I think that once it grows out a little, I'll keep it that way and just start forking out the money for real haircuts.

There really isn't any commentary for this next picture, other than to say I don't usually let him roam around the house in the buff. I just know that Julia will love this one.

Quincy loves to dance - she especially likes to do fancy "piro-whips." Max just loves to do anything that Quincy is doing. Neither of them really like to share the camera, or me for that matter.

Here's Max, caught in the act again. This time sneaking Quincy's ice cream that was out softening. It seems like for a few months, he (and his little buddy Ben) always had some kind of wound on their foreheads. Fortunately, it seems like they're both getting a little more coordinated now.

Quincy and I went on a date with some of our friends, we saw Disney On Ice. We loved it, I don't know which of us was more enchanted. I think when you're a grown up you appreciate the athleticism and grace more. As a kid it's just so magical. It was one of my favorite things that my parents took me to as a kid, and so I was so excited to share this with Quincy again (we saw one in St. Louis a couple years ago). The costumes were awesome. We had a great time.


And, finally, here are a couple shots from one of our recent family activity's. We went to one of the Metro Parks for a program called "Return to the Sugar Bush." Did you know that Michigan is the #6 producer of maple sugar in the world? We learned all about how they do it. It was very interesting. It takes 40 gallons of sap to make one gallon of syrup. We got to see them tap a tree (which produces one gallon of sap on a good day - the producing season is 6-8 weeks long), and even taste the sap as it dripped out of the tree (it tastes like water). These two pictures totally show the real Quincy, in the first she is showing that ever present attitude, (I should call it spirit or sparkle, right?), and in the second she's got her hand raised. She always wants to answer questions and talk.

They collect the sap in these bags, which are emptied everyday.

They "cook it down" in a special vat on top of this wood burning oven. They don't actually sell the syrup that is made here at the park, but they sell syrup there (does that make sense). We bought a couple of small (expensive) bottles, and I have decided that I actually prefer my Great Value, made from corn syrup with butter flavor syrup on my pancakes. I'm so glad that I have cheap taste.



After our little woodland adventure we went to one of my favorite places to eat - Macaroni Grill. These pictures say it all.

So, Julia, you'll have to think about something else to talk to me about now.....

All Those Children Getting Kidnapped.....

I love dogs. Every few years I get a real itch to add one to my family (I do feel a little trashy admitting that after reading one of Jessica Crapos latest posts - I guess it would mean an end to taking food to neighbors. ;). The last time I started seriously looking into a dog we ended up getting Max. Technically I had a dog until a couple months ago. I adopted a great little Black Lab named Maggie from the pound when I was 19. She replaced a lousy boyfriend. She was the perfect dog: mild, affectionate, a good leash walker, pretty. She did have one little problem. She liked to step in her poop. Most dogs have a natural aversion to their own waste, somehow Maggie was missing that. Anyway, she would step in her poop and then when she was excited to see you she would jump......enough said I guess. Maggie stayed with my parents when I got married, and she died a couple months ago when I was home over Thanksgiving. Anyway, this post isn't really about Maggie. It's about me wanting a dog right now. So, I've been preparing as well as I can - I've been reading some books by the "Dog Whisperer" Ceasar Millan. They are the best parenting books I have EVER read. I'll probably do another post about that sometime. So, I decided to start checking out dogs and the kids and I went to an "adoption" at Petsmart the other day. The woman who was in charge starting talking to me. She was passionate about the dog rescue work she does. She told me how long she'd been involved, how many dogs she had rescued, and a few stories about particularly interesting cases. Then she began telling me about how good it is for families and children to have canine companions. Her main point was safety and protection. "A dog is better than a gun," she said. Then she moved very close to me, so our shoulders were touching, leaned her head in so that our heads were nearly touching, covered her mouth with her hand and lowered her voice (we were in Petmart remember). She said "I've done some research. You know all those kids in California and Texas and......that keep getting kidnapped. ALL of their families had CATS!!" It was all I could do to keep my face as serious as her, and solemnly whisper "oh." There you have it - if every family had a dog there would be no more missing kids.

As a note, I wish not to offend cat lovers, if you like 'em, good for you.

Here's a couple examples that lead me to believe that show me my kids would do just fine with a pet.

Milking a Cow

Riding a Pig
Hugging a Bear
Riding a Horse

"He Cooks.....He Microwaves"

I love that my daughter never ceases to amuse me. She's been really into cooking lately - using works like chef, and cook, and all things related. It started when her dad jokingly told her she could work at McDonalds when she grew up. She was really excited by that possibility. So today during lunch she was talking about being a chef, and the following conversation took place between us:

"I love the food dad cooks."

"Dad cooks food?" He doesn't. Ever.

"Yea, he's the best chef."

"Really, what does he cook?"

"He cooks.....(thinking, thinking).......he microwaves!"

"He microwaves? What does he microwave?"

"Chinese."

"Oh, like the Chinese we get at a restaurant and bring home?"

"Yea, it's sooooo good."

I'm just glad she likes it.

Since I'm on this topic of food, particularly Chinese food - yesterday Quincy helped me make this recipe for Sweet and Sour Chicken (and that's what we were eating during this conversation). It's really good. My mom thinks it's really easy - I think it takes a while but it's worth it.

Sweet and Sour Chicken

4-8 chicken breasts - boneless, skinless (I've tried 3 and 7, and think that 5 would probably be perfect).

1 beaten egg

cornstarch

oil

1 1/2 cup sugar

1/2 cup ketchup

1 cup vinegar

2 tsp. soy sauce

1 tsp. garlic powder

Cut the chicken into bite sized pieces. Dip them in egg to coat. Dip them in cornstarch to coat. Cook them in a small about of oil until light tan ( ;) TerriLyn). Place them in a 9x13 inch pan. Mix all the rest of the ingredients together - sugar, ketchup, vinegar, soy sauce, and garlic. Pour the sauce over the chicken and stir a little.

Bake at 325 degrees for 1 hour, turning every 15 minutes.

Here's a pictures of The Girl helping me, I was kind of surprised, I would never touch raw meat until I got married and was forced into it.

I realize now that I am cementing the fact that this post is a jumble of only loosely related things. Oh, well, it's my blog, I can do that. Some day Quincy will love reading all these things about herself - I hope. Anyway, she said something today that reminded me of my dad. When I was a teenager, he referred to me as an "aggressive" driver. That's law enforcement man talk for someone who goes through tires and brakes quickly. I wasn't really aggressive as in mean, or road rage. I just liked to let my car exercise. I have received alot of tickets though. I've become of big fan of cruise control, but I call it ticket control. As a side note - sometimes you can, and sometimes you can't get out of a ticket by saying you are hurrying to the next bathroom - I think you have to have beads of sweat on your forehead to get away with it - so keep a spray bottle close. I think I have only received one ticket in the last four years (I've been a mom for four years too, that's probably why). Anyway, my dad became pretty good natured in his heckling me. One day I pulled into my parking spot while he was outside. He said something like "Were you just parking a car, or landing a jet?" That always makes me smile. Yesterday I was getting the kids in the car and after I buckled Quincy in, and while I was buckling myself she said out of the blue "Ready for takeoff!" Funny girl.

Too Funny To Not Post

I've haven't blogged for a while, and this is going to be no significant post, I just had to put these up for Laura to laugh at.

Max has been sick for what seems like forever, and he's lost his appetite. In fact, he lost about a pound and a half in the last 2 weeks. A friend dropped off a couple bags of caramel corn for Christmas, and I have been giving Max little pieces throughout the day - it's about the only thing he'll eat. Well, somehow he got ahold of the bag and helped himself to the whole ball. I think it's so cute. He carried this giant popcorn ball around for an hour, and just pleasantly snacked.

Now for Miss Q. Everynow and then I'll double pajama her - if I think she'll be chilly I'll put a lighter pair on and then some heavier ones over the top. Apparently Quinn thought it would be really cold tonight. She came downstairs looking like the Pillsberry Dough Girl - when I started counting the layers - she had on 7 pairs of pj's! Cracked me up. She looks grumpy in the pictures, that's because she doesn't like me laughing at her, but I couldn't stop.