Cinderella

I feel just like Cindrella.  I sweep and mop the floors every day.  I vacuum every day.  I cook.  I clean.  I do the laundry.  I get no appreciation.  After dinner today, my husband said, "Woman, do the dishes!"

I scowled and went to my post at the kitchen sink.

My six-year-old son brought his dirty plate to the counter.

"Woman," he said.  "Clean faster!"

Ugh!

Where is that fairy godmother?  And where is that nice ball at the castle?  I could sure use a break!

Bad Day for Bubba

It was a bad day for my boy.  First, his allergies acted up.  His eyeballs puffed up so that his eyes became narrow slits.  Eyedrops and allergy medicine didn't help much. 

Then he got upset because his friend wouldn't let him play with a turtle he found in the woods.  He was so upset, he tackled the kid.  The kid punched him in the mouth and loosened his front tooth.

Then we thought we'd go to the playground.  Everyone piled into the car -including the eighty-five pound German Shepherd (my husband's idea, not mine!).  When we arrived at our destination, the dog trampled over my son to get out of the car.  The poor kid got a few scratches from that one. 

Then he put on sunscreen and got some in his eyes.  Boy did his eyes sting!

The kid was so upset and exhausted, he just wanted to go home.

I took his hand and led him back to the car.  On the way, he managed to run into a garbage can (his eyes were closed, so he wasn't watching where he was going.).  He sliced open his lower lip.  Blood oozed everywhere.  I frantically searched for some guazes in my first aid kit to stop the bleeding.  I found an eye patch.  Good enough.

I was covered in blood.  My son was covered in blood.  And the dog, well, he was obnoxious as usual.    It was not a fun ride home.

Poor Bubba!  

Beast Strikes Again

I have had a couple of extra varmits to take care of these last couple of days.  The huskies next door needed to be pet sitted (yes, the same ones who sliced my dog's ear and took the cone off his head).  Apparently, my dog wasn't too happy about that, and he rebelled.

When I returned from feeding the huskies, I found that he had wandered into the front room where I teach violin lessons.  He knows he's not allowed there!  He jumped up onto my desk and grabbed my violin shoulder rest in his mouth.  He promptly destroyed it.  I am furious!  How dare he mess with my violin stuff!

He is now banished to the crate.  Forever. 

Turtle Day Care

My son was playing in the woods with his friends when he found the box turtle he had harrassed last fall.  Somehow the reptile had survived the harsh winter.  That turtle must have a really bad memory, or he's a glutton for punishment. 

The boys picked him up and put him in the cold creek water.  Fortunately I happened to be there when they did this and put an immediate stop to it.  I told them that they needed to be nice to the turtle.

That gave them the brilliant idea to open a Turtle Day Care.  The boys took turns caring for the animal.  They groomed his shell.  They found leaves and worms for him to eat.  They even built him a little shelter.  With all of that pampering, the boys might find themselves with a few more shelled visitors! 

Catnip Crazy

Our cat loves catnip.  We sprinkle some on the ground and he rolls around in it like a mad man.  My son observed this strange behavior and decided to see if catnip had a similar effect on him.

He grabbed the container of catnip, opened it and sniffed.

Then he started rolling around on the ground just like the cat.

The cat stopped, stared at him, and ran off.

Needless to say, I'll be keeping the catnip away from my boy.

Ant Eater

"I have some new friends," my six-year-old son announced.

"Oh, yeah?" I asked.  "Who are they?"

"One's an ant, one's a bee, and one is a spider.  Do you want to meet them?"

"Sure," I said.

He took me over and introduced me to the ant, the bee, and the spider.

Unfortunately our dog had to get in on the action.  The ant was particularly interesting to the big bad beast.  He watched the little insect scurry around.  Then he sniffed it.  He must've decided that it would taste good, because then his big pink tongue flicked out and scooped the ant into his big old mouth. 

Needless to say, my son was very upset that his friend became dog food.

All I can say, is I hope that little ant bit up that pink tongue before it was swallowed!    

The Demise of the Lamp Shade

The lamp shade collar my German Shepherd puppy had been wearing is finally gone.  I didn't remove it though.  The dog's Husky buddies next door helped him out.

He was driving me nuts with his barking again, while I was trying to teach.  So I let the beast outside.  I don't know quite how it happened, but the Huskies got a hold of the collar, tore it off, and dragged it under the fence into their yard.

I found out about this when my neighbor rang the door bell.

"Hi," she said.  "We have of few of your things in our yard."

"Uh, oh," I thought.

She told me about the cone.  Then she said there was a tent in her yard.

I had set up my kids' tent on the other side of the fence so they could play in it.  Apparently after being liberated from the collar, our beast poked his head under the wire fence and grabbed the tent, dragging it into our yard and shredding it.  Then he gave it to the Huskies as a present for helping him out of his collar.

Those nasty, cunning, wild animals!

The Big Storm

I was on the road, taking my daughter to her dance lessons when the storm sirens went off.  The sky looked ominous as the black clouds rolled in.

I rolled into the parking lot as the first flashes of lightening streaked across the sky.  We dashed into the building.  What we found was mass pandemonium.  The weather channel was playing on the radio.  Tornadoes had been sighted nearby. 

"What should we do with the kids?" one teacher asked.

"Put them in the storage room.  Put them them in the bathroom.  Get them out of the classrooms!"  the adults shouted.

So that's what they did.  All of the students were bunched up in a bathroom and a storage room.  That's where they stayed for thirty minutes.

Meanwhile, I took a seat at the front of the building.  I had a great view of Mother Nature's big show.  It was just a thunder storm.  Nothing more.

Now if we were in Missouri it would have been another story.     

Lamp Shade Head Strikes Again

You would think that a dog with an Elizabethan collar that covers his face would not get in trouble.  Our dog could find a way to get in trouble even if he was in a straight jacket!

The poor creature was getting stir-crazy from being in his crate for four days.  (He had been neutered, so we were instructed to keep him relatively quiet.  Ha ha!)

Lamp Shade Head was driving us nuts with his barking, so we let him out.  The hope was that he would blow off some steam and be a content, quiet dog.  Let me just say, he had a lot of steam!  He promptly located the grill ignition wires and ripped those out.  Then he attacked the nice plastic box we keep the hose in.  Now it's missing the handle which cranks the hose.  I swear, if that dog had access to our cars, he would rip apart the wheels and tear off the hub caps!

What the heck am I going to do with that animal?     

Lamp Shade Head

It's day three of our German Shepherd puppy's banishment to the crate.  He was neutered, and as a result he's had to wear a funky collar that looks like a lamp shade over his head.  It's driving him crazy!

As soon as I let him out of the crate for a potty break, he charged around the kitchen, pulling me with him as he went.  He crashed into the table.  He knocked over chairs.  He rammed into the sliding glass doors.  The dog is a maniac!  Why can't he carefully manuever his way around?  That's what I would do if I was a dog!

But I'm not a dog.  I'm a mom - a loving, nurturing mom.  So I guided him outside and spoke to him quietly, trying to calm him down.  He sat for a moment and listened.  Then he lay down and attempted to pull out his stitches.  (Thank God he was wearing his cone!).    Then he suddenly bolted and dragged me around the yard.  It was a sight to behold.  Little me being dragged around by a dog with a lamp shade over his head.

Gosh darn it.  Why did we have to get an eighty-five pound puppy?   

Hair Goop

It's that time of year when the dancers at the dance studio prepare for their showcase performances.  Do you know what that means?  It means moms have to plaster their kid's hair into unnatural styles and cake way too much makeup on their kid's faces.

This evening my daughter got out her big green tube of hair gel.  "Here, Mom, I need you to do my hair."

"What's the style?"

"A side pony tale with a right part."  Of course that's the exact opposite of her natural part. 

I brushed her hair.  I sprayed her hair.  I put her hair in a side pony tale and pinned it in place.  Then the goop came out.  We slicked back her bangs.  We tamed the wisps.  Then we sprayed it all in place.  Her hair was like a cement slab when we were done.  And my hands were a sticky mess.

I love hair goop!

The Cone of Shame

Our German Shepherd puppy got neutered today.  He came out of the vet clinic wearing a huge plastic cone-shaped collar that covered his head.  He looked ridiculous.  He bumped into walls.  He bumped into furniture.  He crashed into the car trying to get in.  He was a mess.

When we got home, I took him into the back yard to do his business.  The two huskies next door came over and stared at him.  What humiliation!  The poor dog not only has a sore bottom, but he has to look like an idiot for two weeks, enduring ridicule from the animals next door.  And he can't even have a proper sniff.

My heart goes out for him, even if he is a big, dirty, smelly, obnoxious dog!   

Dog Dirt

I really wish it would stop raining in Cincinnati!  I don't really mind the rain.  I do mind the mud.  I'm talking about the mud my big old German Shepherd puppy tracks in.

Normally the dog has a nice tan colored underbelly.  This afternoon after I had let him out, he came back in the house and his underbelly was completely black.  His legs were black.  His face was black.  Even his tongue was black.  In short, he was an absolutely disgusting, filthy mess. 

Then the dog had the nerve to track up my nice clean kitchen floor.  He shook himself and the mud landed on the walls.  Did I mention how much he stunk?  Wet dirty dogs do not smell good!

I got out the mop and started mopping.  I washed the walls.  I cleaned everything except the dog.  I don't think I'm ever going to let him out of his crate again.  Oh, wait a minute.  That would mean even more messes if he doesn't go outside for a potty break.  Ugh.  Does anybody out there want a dirty, stinky, sometimes loveable dog? 

Sticky Concoction

My daughter has a big project to do for school.  She has to create something and market it.  She chose to create some spa products. 

"Mom, I need brown sugar, oatmeal, olive oil and honey," she announced.  "Oh, and could you please grind the oatmeal?"

I ground the oatmeal and got out the rest of the ingredients.  My daughter mixed it all up and spooned it into a jar.

"Breakfast for your skin," she announced.

"Great," I thought looking at the sticky brown stuff.  I wonder how she's going to convince people to smear brown sugar and honey all over their body.  Stay tuned.   

Dog in a Tutu

My daughter had a dance performance at a nursing home today.  The residents gathered in the dining room to watch the show.

The young ladies in beautiful costumes pranced onto the stage.  So did a dog in a tutu.

"What?" you ask.

Yep.  I kid you not.  There was a miniature great dane walking around in a fluffy white tutu.

The residents loved it.

I wonder how our eighty- pound German Shepherd puppy would look in a tutu.

I wonder how he'd behave in a tutu.  He'd  probably shred that thing in less than ten seconds! 

Mechanical Mama

"Honey, I need you to grab a torque wrench," my husband said as he tinkered on his motorcycle.

"Is this a torque wrench?" I asked pulling something that looked like a wrench out of his toolbox.

"No, that's a socket wrench."

"Oh."  I put the wrench back and tried again.  This time I was successful.

"Now I need you to take this hammer and tap on this part when I tell you."

"Okay," I said and waited for further instruction.

The instruction was given, and I started tapping.

"Excellent!" my husband exclaimed.  "You just installed an axle."

A minute later, my husband had another project.  "Here, " he said.  "Take this wrench and apply 10 to 20 pounds of pressure right here."  He showed me where.  I put all my weight on that thing.  I figured that should do it, since I'm a petite person. 

"Way to go!"  my husband said, clearly pleased with my performance.  "You helped me tighten the brake."

Wow.  I didn't know I had such talent.  Now I really hope it works!

Saving Worms

I"m sure you've seen sidewalks after a good rain.  They're wet and usually covered with worms.  Today was one of those days.  My son and I went outside after the sun started drying things up. 

"Mom, look at these poor worms.  They're going to die!"

"Maybe they'll crawl back into the dirt," I said.

"No they won't.  They'll dry out.  We have to save them!"

We stooped down and began saving those slimy things.  We tossed them into the grass and watched them squirm down through the wet blades into the dirt.

I never thought I'd be saving worms, but I'm glad we did.  It was a nice thing to do for a creature who was in need of some assistance. 

Frog Hunting

Today my little guy wanted to hunt for frogs.  Normally that would mean we'd go to the lake with a big net and try to scoop the green amphibeans out of the cattail reeds.  Not today.

Today we were armed with a device called an Identiflyer.  You slide a frog card in,  press a button and get frog calls.

"We're going to trick those frogs," my son said.

"Okay.  Let's do it," I replied.

We sat down by the lake and pressed the bull frog button.  My son searched through the reeds.  Nothing.  We kept pressing the button.  Then we heard a splash.  We went to investigate.  There in the reeds, were two huge bull frogs.

Ha!  We tricked them! 

Catching Fish

"Mom, I want to go fishing!" my six-year old son announced.

I looked at the piles of laundry.  I supposed they could wait.  "Okay," I said.  "But not for long.  I have a lot of work to do."

We grabbed a fishing pole, some hooks, a bobber, and bread for bait.  Then we walked to the lake.

After I rigged the line, my son cast it into the lake.  He did this for fifteeen minutes and did not get a single bite. 

"Okay, let's go," I said. 

"No, I have to catch a fish," he replied.  "I'm going to try something new."

Instead of casting the line, he plopped it into the water next to him.  In less than two seconds, he caught a bluegill.  I took it off the line and tossed it back in.  He did the same thing again, and another two seconds later, he caught another fish.  This went on for almost an hour.

Let me just say it took me forever to get the fish smell off of my hands from unhooking and releasing all those fish!

 

Bug Hunting

My son had a homework assignment to search for insects and count how many he found.  I went outside with him to go on a bug hunt.  We searched and searched, but weren't having much luck finding the little six legged creatures.

Then I took a look at my son.

"Dude," I said.  "There's a bug on your armpit!"

He didn't believe me.

So I showed him.  A big brown beetle was clinging to his shirt under his armpit.

Now, that would've freaked me out.  But not my son.  He thought it was great.

"Cool," he said.  "This bug went on a people hunt and he found me!" 

Mother's Day Nap

Happy Mother's Day!  I hope all of you moms out there had a wonderful day.  I'm a bit under the weather.  I've caught another cold.  I thought it might be nice to take a little nap and rest a little bit.  Resting is something I don't do very often.  I went to my room, expecting to lay down and take it easy.

I walked into my room and sirens went off.  My kids had rigged my room with spy gear equipment.  My bed was torn apart and set up as an undercover spy fortress.  My kids of course were under the covers spying.

Of course my kids thought the whole thing was hilarious.  I sighed and plopped down on the sofa.  Then the dog started barking.  So much for a nap. 

A Fly Named Billy Bob

This morning I found my husband running around in the bedroom with a towel in his hand swatting at a rather large fly. 

"I'm going to get you!"  he shouted at the fly.

I went into the bathroom to put in my contacts.  The fly followed me and so did my towel-wielding husband.

"Stop Billy Bob.  Stop right now so I can kill you!"

I looked at my husband quizically.  "You named the fly Billy Bob?"

"Yep.  And Billy Bob is going to die."

The chase continued with various things flying off of the counter as the towel came down. 

Finally, the fly was cornered in the shower where he met his demise and was promptly rinsed down the drain.

So here's to the fly who flew high until my husband decided he should die.  Rest in Peace Billy Bob.     

Filth, Filth, and More Filth

I really do not like filth.  Unfortunately filth is part of the mom job.  I can't seem to get away from it.  Today was one of those exceptionally filthy days.  Most of the filth came from our German Shepherd puppy. 

I let him outside to blow off some energy.  When he came back in, he was still as hyper as could be and covered from head to toe with mud.  He jumped on me, and the next thing I knew, I was covered in mud.

I decided that the dog needed a good long walk to tire him out.  So off we went, down the street, completely covered in mud.  I got a few quizical looks from some neighbors who were out.  If that wasn't bad enough, the dog decided to do his business.  I finished the walk covered in mud, holding a bag of dog turds. 

When I got home, I had to feed the turtle.  I checked the worm supply in the refrigerator (yes, there are worms and dirt in my refrigerator.)  The supply was a little low, so I had to go worm hunting.  You know what that meant - more dirt.

By the time I was done, I was completely covered in dog hair,dirt, worm slime, and mud.  Disgusting!

Life

This afternoon my six-year-old son and I played the game of Life.  In case you are unfamiliar with the game, it's a game in which players move around a board earning money and losing money while following the natural progression of life (getting married, having kids, retiring, etc.).

My son decided he wanted to be the banker.  I hestitated on that one, but decided to let him give it a try.  He sorted the money his way.  When he was done, I looked at the piles.  He had all of the hundred thousand dollar bills, while I had all of the promissory notes.

"What's this?" I asked.

"It's life - I have all the money, and you're broke!"

(They learn young, don't they?)   

Dog Genious

Our seven-month old German Shepherd puppy decided he wanted to watch TV today.  I was busy teaching, and I had the dog leashed on the back door.  The dog is now tall enough to unleash himself.  So that is what he did.  He promptly walked into the family room, found the remote on the table, and chewed on it, causing the television to turn on.

I heard the TV, so I decided to investigate.  The dog genious was lying down in front of the TV, chewing on the remote, watching a hockey game.  He seemed to be pleased.  I most certainly was not!

The Egg Story

Last weekend I boiled some eggs so that my kids could color them for Easter.  I thought I had boiled them long enough.  I turned off the stove and let them cool.  When they had cooled sufficiently, I put them back in the egg carton and placed them in the refrigerator.  I little while later, when my kids were ready to color them, I took them out.  They colored them beautiful shades of purple, pink, orange, yellow, and green.  When the dye dried, I put them back in the egg carton and placed them in the refrigerator once again.

The next day was Easter.  I had planned to make stuffed eggs with the colored Easter eggs.  I took the eggs out of the refrigerator and proceeded to crack the eggs.  Much to my surprise, I found the eggs appeared to have not been boiled enough.  I could see the yolk was still quite runny.  I checked all of the eggs, and they were all the same.  "Oh well,"  I thought.  "It's just another culinary malfunction."  I tossed the eggs and didn't think any more about it.

Today I was planning on making scrambled eggs for my family's breakfast.  I went into the refrigerator and pulled out the remaining carton of eggs.  I cracked an egg.  It didn't spill out as expected.  I took a closer look.  It was a hard boiled egg!  They were all hard boiled eggs!

Silly mommy!