Craziness at the Haircutter's

My daughter was in serious need of a haircut.  Because of my teaching schedule, it is very difficult to find time to get the job done.  Tonight we finally got around to it.  When we got to the shop, it was  late, so my little guy was a bit over tired.  You know how over tired kids get: silly!   Well, he was in super silly mode.  He absolutely could not sit in his chair.  On top of that, it was a forty minute wait for the haircut.  I decided  we simply could not stay in the shop for forty minutes.  We killed some time at a  nearby store .  My son was rather hyper, so when the sales clerk gave me one of those, "When are you going to get out of here, lady?' looks, I decided we should exit. 

As soon as we got into the haircut place, he got on his belly and started slithering like a snake. The other customers looked at me kind of funny.

"Please sit in the chair and try to behave," I said.

He sat under the chair.  (At least he was sitting.)  Then he started crawling around under all of the chairs. 

"What are you doing?' I asked.

"Exploring a cave system," he responded.

"What are you finding?"

"Cave spiders."

I looked under the chair.  Yes, there was a dead spider.

One of the customers gave me one of those, "You have your hands full" looks.

Twenty minutes later the haircut was done and I dragged my crazy little boy out of there - with an orange helium balloon that didn't have a string.  I'm still trying to figure out where that went.     

Rainbow Land

We've had a lot of rain here in Cincinnati.  This evening, while the sun was shining, it continued to rain.  The result was a rainbow.  Actually there were several rainbows.  I saw a double rainbow, a regular rainbow, and a blotch of rainbow in the sky.  My kids, of course, were thrilled, especially since one of the rainbows seemed to be hovering close to our house.

We admired the pretty sky on the way to taking my daughter to dance class.

When we entered the dance studio, my son proudly announced to anyone who would listen,  "I live in the house next to the rainbow."  

Does that mean there's a pot of gold nearby?  Maybe I should start looking.  I could really use a pot of gold  for all of those dog expenses!

Twenty Reasons Not to Own a Big Dog

Our dear German Shepherd puppy was at it again today.  My husband had just fixed the screen door that the dog ripped out a couple of weeks ago.  So what did the dog do first thing this morning?  He ripped it to shreds!  So, as I sit staring at the tattered screen blowing in the wind, I feel compelled to write a list of reasons why you should absolutely positively not get a big dog.

Here they are:

1.  He'll bark and wake you up at 6:00 AM.
2.  He'll dump your garbage all over the floor and try to eat it. 
3.  He'll eat your grill cover.
4.  He'll eat your grill ignition switch
5.  He'll eat your tulips and garden plants.
6.  He'll eat your trees.
7.  He'll chew your kitchen chairs.
8.  He'll pee on your kitchen floor.
9.  He'll leave giant turds all over your yard.
10.  He'll play with other dogs and end up with mangled body parts.
11.  He'll dig holes in your yard.
12.  He'll leave muddy paw prints all over your carpet and furniture.
13.  He'll leave hair and drool wherever he goes.
14.  He'll nip at your fingers and toes.
15.  He stinks even when he's clean.
16.  He'll shred your screen doors.
17.  He'll bleed all over your floor if you trim his nails the wrong way.
18.  He'll eat your wind chimes and garden ornaments.
19.  He'll chew your kids' toys.
20.  He'll make you end up in the poor house with all of the vet visits, pet store purchases, and home repairs!

If  you're thinking about getting a big dog, DON'T DO IT!  Learn from my mistake!    

Mud

Now that the bloody dog drama is over, I can concentrate on other things - like mud.

"Mom, can I go outside and play?' my six-year-old son asked. 

"Yes, but stay away from the creek," I replied.  "It's a muddy mess from all of the rain."

A few minutes later, my daughter asked if she could go out.  I gave her the same instructions.  I watched my kids for a while to make sure they were listening.  They seemed to be doing a good job, so I went about my business cleaning up dog hair. 

Thirty minutes later my kids came back in the house.  They were filthy!  Obviously they had gotten into some mud.

I looked at my son.  He was soaked. 

"What happened to you?" I asked.

"I fell into the creek."

"I thought I told you to stay away from the creek," I replied completely exasperated.

"Yeah, but we were playing a spy game, and it was muddy, and I slipped."

As my kids went to their rooms, I looked  at the floor.  I now have muddy kid footprints and doggy prints streaked across my beautiful hardwood floor.  Sometimes I wonder why I even bother cleaning.

Wrestling the Dog

This is part two of yesterday's madness with the dog.  A quick recap:  Our seven-month-old German Shepherd puppy (if you want to call him that) had a toe nail trim that didn't go so well.  The result was a bloody mess that just wouldn't stop.  After two hours of bleeding, my husband and I decided we needed to try to do something else for the varmit.

And so began Operation Bandage Puppy.  We hauled the bloody beast outside and washed him off.  Then it was time to hold him down to wrap his foot.  I had the job of holding him.  I am a rather petite person, so that was a very good trick.  Of course the weather didn't cooperate.  There I was, in the pouring rain, at night,  wrestling a very strong eighty pound hairy, bloody beast.  Let's just say, it wasn't my idea of fun!

Fortunately, the operation was a success.  The bleeding stopped. He'll still have to see the vet tomorrow, but at least he'll be okay.  As for my husband and me, I think we have been completely truamatized by the experience.  And my arms are still aching!

Bloody Paws

Didn't I just write a post about blood a couple of weeks ago?  Well, here we go again.  This time the dog's toe nails got clipped a little too low.  Blood started oozing everywhere.. There was blood on the floor, blood all over the dog, blood on my socks, blood on my pants, and blood all over my husband's shirt.

"That's nothing," my husband said.  "It looks worse than it is."

I looked at him quizzically.  "Are you sure?"  It certainly didn't look good to me.  

We put the dog in his crate and cleaned up the mess.  Meanwhile, the dog was going around in circles licking the blood off of the floor of his crate.

"I'm going to go to Walgreens and get something for him," my husband announced.

"Okay," I said.

He came back with some cauterizing stuff.  I tried to hold the dog down as my husband attempted to apply the stuff to the wound.  That didn't go well.  I think it made it worse.  The dog was yiping and more blood oozed out.  There was blood on the floor, blood on my socks.....you get the picture.

It's two hours later and the dog is still in his crate, going around in circles licking his blood.  Of course the vet isn't in now.

Will this dog saga ever stop?

30 Seconds to Destruction

The kids came home today after being gone for four days.  First, my son charged in the door.  He had the remains of Oreo cookies plastered on his face.  He planted a cookie crumb kiss on my cheek and deposited his suitcase and coat in the middle of the kitchen floor.  Then my daughter came in.  She was considerably neater in appearance, but she still deposited her suitcase and coat in the middle of the floor.  Then the grandparents came in.  They deposited an assortment of things on the kitchen table and countertop.

A few seconds later my son called down.  "Mom, can you fix my Lego starfighter?  The wings fell off."

I went upstairs and saw that the loft was completely covered in Lego pieces.

In thirty seconds, my neat and tidy house became a scene of utter destruction.  It's so nice to have my kids home!       

Missing the Mama

It's been three days since my kids have seen me.  They've been at Grandma and Grandpa's house.  My poor son has been rather homesick.  Every day at 8:00 AM, he calls me.

"Mama, when are you coming to pick me up?  I miss you!"

"Not for another couple of days," I reply.

Then the alligator tears start.

"It can't be that bad," I say.  "Grandma and Grandpa always take good care of you."

"But they don't have an X-Box!"

Playing in the Sandbox

No, my kids were not playing in the sandbox.  The dog was.

That oversized puppy figured out how to take the lid off of the sandbox - just in time for the huge deluge of rain.  Apparently he decided he wanted to use the kid's sandbox toys as chew toys.  I went outside after the  storm and found a small pond in the sandbox.  The kids mangled toys were scattered across the yard.  I attempted to empty the water, but it was just too heavy to lift.

"Heck with it," I thought.  "I'll deal with this some other time."  So I gathered the toys and threw them into the sandbox.  Then I put the lid back on, making sure it was tightly sealed.

A little while later, I let the dog out.  Sure enough, he bolted for the sandbox.  He quickly removed the lid.  He stuck his black snout into the rain water, and immediatlely got an eyeful of sand.

He whined all the way back to the door.  Do you think he got any sympathy from me?  Absolutely not!

Google Eyes and Lego Pieces

My kids are at their grandparent's house for a week.  Do you know what that means?  Well, to anyone else, it would mean peace and quiet, and a chance to rest.  But not for me.  No.  For me, it  meant that it was time to clean out the toy room in the basement!  Let me tell you what a job that was!  I went through piles of artwork, McDonald's Happy Meal toys, and hot wheel cars.  There were spider webs with dead spiders still hanging on them.  The place was a train wreck!  I managed to sweep out the entire place and organize everything (which meant putting a few things in the donation bag - but don't tell my kids!).

When I was done, I looked at the pile I had swept.  Would you like to know what was in it?  Dirt, and dust, and feathers, and sequins, and glitter,   and google eyes, and itty bitty Lego pieces.  (I didn't feel like figuring out where those Lego pieces went, so they ended up in a random Lego box.  I hope my son won't be looking for them any time soon!)

So much for resting!

Close Neighbors

My son was feeling a little upset about having to spend a week with his grandparents who live four hours away. 

"Mommy, can't you come with me?"

"No, not this time.  I'm sure you'll have a lot of fun with Grandma and Grandpa.  The time will go by quickly,"  I replied.

"But I'm going to get homesick," he complained.

"You can call me," I suggested.

"I wish Grandma and Grandpa lived only a mile away."

"That would make things easier," I agreed.

"But it would be even better if they lived only an inch away."

.

Spy Club

Kids love to spy on grown-ups.  Today my nephew and two children decided to form a spy club.  My computer-savy daughter even asked to go on to microsoft publisher to create name tags and a schedule for their covert operation.

I knew they'd be spying, but I didn't think much of it.  So after our Passover dinner, all of the adults were sitting around the table talking.  All of a sudden, I felt somebody tickling my feet.  I looked under the table and saw three children, grinning from ear to ear.

I hadn't even noticed that they had sneaked under the table.  I have to admit, that was some pretty good spying!  

Recycled What?

Last night was not good.  I spent most of the night with my friend, the toilet.  When the alarm clock went off this morning, I was not a happy camper.  My husband had some minor surgery the day before, so he was in no condition to help me with the morning ritual of getting the kids off to school.  I had to get up and do my job.

Unfortunately, I had to spend more time with my friend, the toilet, so we missed the bus.  I had to haul my sorry self and the kids to school.

When we got to the school, we had to wait.  The doors were still locked, and the teacher who watches the kids outside before the bell rings, was not yet at her post.  My stomach was not at all happy!  It needed to be with my friend, the toilet.

"Kids, I'm not going to make it," I said attempting to keep down whatever was trying to come up.

My kids looked around for an acceptable dumping site.

"You can use the playground," my son offered.

"Ewwww, that's gross!" exclaimed my daughter.  Then she spotted the recycle bin.  "You can use that recycle bin over there," she suggested.

Hmmmm.  I wonder what could be done with recycled vomit?  Any ideas?

Racing the Clock

Have you ever had one of those days where you zoom non-stop from morning until night?  That was my day.  I awoke at the crack of dawn (5:30 AM) to take my husband to the hospital for minor surgery.  The goal was to get my kids to school on time.  Well, the place we were told to go, was not the place we had to be.  When we arrived at the doctor's office they told us to go to another place which was thirty minutes away. 

"But, the sheet gave us this address," my husband said.

"The sheet is wrong.  You should've read the other sheet in your package.  That has the correct address."

Grrrr.  Why was this our fault?

So we zoomed to the next place in the middle of Cincinnati rush hour traffic.  We were of course, twenty minutes late.

I called the school to tell them my kids would be tardy.  As soon as I dropped off my husband, I raced down the highways back to the school.  Somehow we made it with only a minute to spare.

The rest of the day went the same way.  I had doctor appointments for my daughter.  I raced to get home so I could teach lessons.  Then I had to race to take my daughter to dance lessons, because my husband couldn't drive her.  Then I had to race to teach some more.  Then I had to race to pick her up from the dance studio before the studio closed.

Man, I'm tired!  Too much racing around!       

Wild Goose Chase

Before I tell you this story, I have to tell you another. A couple of days ago, my son came home from school telling me that his friend had lost a dog they had just adopted. The friend asked my son to be on the lookout for the dog. As is typical with six-year-olds, not much of a description of the dog was provided. This evening, my dear son showed up at our front door with a big brown dog. The dog had a collar, but the tag had no phone number on it. "This is my friend's dog!" he announced. "Great! What's your friend's phone number?" I asked. "I don't know." "Where does he live?" "Somewhere around here. He rides the bus with me." Okay. That told me a lot. I went to the class directory and figured out who the kid was. Then I called his house. Of course nobody was home. We left a message. Meanwhile, my dog was just thrilled to have a female friend. I quickly crated my dog so he wouldn't do any damage. My husband and I decided to walk around the neighborhood with this dog and see if we could find its home. So there we were, dragging the kids around the neighborhood, listening to my husband rant about all of the varmits in our house. The dog appeared to know where she was going, and didn't mind being walked by strange people. We walked all over the neighborhood asking everyone we saw if they knew the dog. To make a long story short, the dog was not the friend's missing dog. A neighbor who was out walking, said she had seen our furry visitor roaming around the neighborhood for years. Apparently the owner just lets his dog roam. We walked back home and released the dog. "Oh, can't we keep it?" my daughter begged. NO!

Hungry Boy

Today we spent a ridiculous amount of time at the doctor's office. My daughter had stepped on a nail in the creek, so we had to have that checked. That's another story in itself. Anyway, all that sitting around in the doctor's office made my son hungry. On our way out, the boy spotted a vending machine. "Mommy," he said. "I'm hungry. Can I please have something from the machine?" We walked over to take a look. "Sorry kid, I don't have any money for that," I said. My son looked around. He spotted the fountain in which people threw coins. "How much does it cost?" he asked. "Eighty cents." "Then just take eighty pennies from the fountain, and you'll have enough."

Quicksand

My daughter came into the house today covered in mud. "What the heck happened to you?" I asked. "I fell into quicksand," she replied. "What?" I said. "We don't have quicksand!" "Yeah we do. It's by the frog pond." "How do you know it's quicksand?" "Because it came up to my knees when I stepped in it." "Okay," I said. "Go clean yourself up, and next time watch out for that quicksand." So now I guess I have to worry about my kids falling into quicksand. Marvelous!

Little Plugger

My son and I were taking a walk outside when he noticed our neighbor's lawn. It had been recently aerated, and little mud plugs were left all over the yard. "Mom, there's goose poop all over that guy's yard!" he said. "No, that's just dirt," I replied. Then I attempted to explain the process of aerating a yard. My son frowned. "That's just messy," he said. "It needs to be cleaned up." Then he got down on his hands and knees and started putting the plugs back into the holes. He just didn't get it.

Mission: Rescue Catfish

"Mom, I want to go fishing with my friend. Can I? Please?" That's how it started. "Okay," I said, "but I'm coming with you." We walked to the lake which was in his friend's back yard. There were about five boys back there fishing. No dads were in sight. The boys cast their lines. Of course they each caught catfish. Chaos and mayhem followed as the boys kept tossing their lines in and out of the lake. "Does somebody have a pair of pliers?" I asked. Of course nobody did. "Will somebody get their dad to help us?" No dad was available. It was up to me - super mom. "All right. Nobody fall into the lake. I'll be right back." I ran home and got a towel and pliers. I ran back. I yanked those hooks out of the mouths of those catfish and saved all five. When I meandered home, one of the neighbors asked if anything was wrong. She saw me sprinting up and down the street. "No. I was just rescuing catfish," I replied. All in a days work.

Treasure Hunt

"Mom, let's go on a treasure hunt," my six-year-old son said. "Okay," I said. "Where should we go to look for treasure?" "Let's go to the Little Miami River." We drove to the river and began our hunt. "Do you think we'll find gold or diamonds?" my son asked. "Not likely," I replied. We walked along the bank of the river and found a partially buried metal container. It almost looked like a row boat. "A pirate ship!' my son exclaimed. We walked on further. We saw a large metal canister in the shape of a torpedo. "A cannon launcher!" My son was very excited. "Maybe we'll find pirate treasure!" All we found were fossils and clam shells. It sure was fun looking, though. I'd sure like to know what those metal things we saw were too!

Dead Fish

Yesterday we changed the water in our fish tank. It was looking a bit cloudy. Apparently, though, some of the fish didn't like it. "Mom, there are two dead fish floating around," my son announced. "Okay, I'll take care of them after I'm done teaching," I said. Instead of leaving the fish, do you know what my son did? He reached in and grabbed them right out of the tank with his hand. "Here they are Mom, what should I do with them?" he asked holding them in front of my piano student's nose. "Flush them down the toilet! And wash your hands!" "But Mom, they're so cute!" "Flush them down the toilet. NOW!" Oy gewalt!

Garbage Picker

Today was garbage day. It was also a very windy day. You know what that means; garbage all over the neighborhood. As we stood at the bus stop this morning, my environmentally-conscious son picked up a wayward cheese package that had some moldy cheese inside. "What are you going to do with that?" I asked. "Throw it in the garbage," he replied. Then the bus pulled up. "Here Mom," he said passing the disgusting package to me. "You throw it away." Thanks a lot kid.

Arm Flatulance

My kids and I watched the Kids Choice Awards on Nickelodeon last night. There was a new feature: The Arm Fart Hall of Fame. Three contestants vied for the title of Arm Fart Hall of Famer. One guy did his gig with a symphony (my personal favorite), another had a flashy light show (the winner, but my least favorite), and the other was a woman scientist. The kids thought this was the funniest thing. I thought, "Oh no...now I'm going to have to listen to arm farts for at least a week!" Sure enough, they spent the rest of the evening and much of today honing the art of arm flatulance. My husband joined in the fun. So ladies and gentlemen, be sure to watch the Kids Choice Awards next year. My family will probably be in the competition. (Me? I'll be hiding somewhere in the audience.)

Tongue Trouble

My kids were playing at a friend's house this evening. When I went to retrieve them, I found a very strange sight. The kids were yelling and screaming with orange creamsicles shoved in their mouths. "That's odd," I thought. "How could they be carrying on like that when their mouths are stuffed with creamsicles?" I knocked on the door. My son answered it. "Mommy, my sister's tongue is stuck on the creamsicle!" "You've got to be kidding!" I said. Just then she yanked her tongue from the frozen orange treat. "Ow!" she said. Then she looked at the creamsicle. "There's blood on it!" she exclaimed. "Apparently, you ripped off some of your tongue," I said. "Ewwwww, that's disgusting!' they all said. I heartily agreed.