Reality Bites

"A little learning is a dangerous thing." --Alexander Pope

We still do not have a yard.  We have mud.  A little bit of grass is beginning to emerge here and there but it's mostly a vast expanse of mud and puddles bordering our new pool.  I remembered seeing a post or two on Facebook listing flowers and plants that deter mosquitos.  I remembered marigolds but did a quick search to see if the post had any basis in fact and what other plants would work.  Different sites gave similar lists so I headed out for pots and plants!  I couldn't find lavender in the garden center and forgot to look for an actual citronella plant (I didn't think to search the lists while actually at the store) but found marigolds everywhere.

I put pots of marigolds on my upper deck a month ago.  I did not buy any of the large, pretty, colorful flowers as we already had large black bumblebees out there.  (They tend to freak my kids out a bit.  I've reminded my offspring that while they're sweet, they need not worry about a bee mistaking them for flowers so they'll be fine.)  I put marigolds up there and was happy that we've been able to sit up there without many mosquitos!

Later, when talking with a landscaper, I asked him if it was true that lavender would deter mosquitos like marigolds.  He didn't know of any plants that actually deter them and reminded me that my deck is higher and mosquitos prefer to stay low by the ground.  Okay, maybe my marigolds weren't helping but I figured they weren't doing any harm, either so I left them on the deck and yesterday, bought many, many more to plant near my pool.  While I was planting, the kids were having fun in the pool but had to duck once in a while to avoid a pesky wasp or two that were scaring them.  (What happened to those big, fuzzy bees?)  I suggested we take a break and go sit up on the deck for dinner. They could stay in their wet suits but get up and away from the pool and the bugs.  They climbed the stairs half-way and stood there, waiting for another wasp to stop circling the deck, then went to sit down.  My youngest started yelling that our dog "pooped on the chair!"

My Golden Retriever is capable of a lot of mischief but actually climbing up on a patio chair to do that?  Not likely.  I came up to investigate and did find something on the chair but it was not put there by my dog.  I stormed into the house, complaining that I've been trying to avoid chemicals but I now we had a mud-dauber nest on a seat cushion and no spray to kill those suckers.  My husband said he thought we had hornet killer in the garage but while I went to get it, he took care of the nest.  He went out with a fly swatter and swatted the one trying to protect the thing, scraped it off the chair and kicked it somewhere!  (I asked what we would do if it was still full of wasps but he said he stomped on it!)

It was gone but the kids didn't want to sit there, any more.  One went inside and another came back down to sit by the pool, beside the large pots of marigolds as I went back to planting.  I finished the pots up with ivy around the edges, just as a deer came by to investigate!  (I'd forgotten the deer as I was planting my large pots of salad for them!)  The deer left, I cleaned up, poured a glass of wine and got back online.  I wanted to read more about marigolds and see if they really would deter any insects, at all.  This time, I read a little further.  One site said that both mosquitos and many gardeners dislike them for their strong smell but they are a good plant to place by windows and doors to keep the mosquitos from entering your house.  The same site cautioned, however, not to put them on patios or around a pool as the large orange blooms can attract wasps.

It does look like poop.

Tricky Tuesday morning

Are you superstitious? How would you approach an obviously sinister threat, directly outside your door?
Our fluffy, Golden attack-chicken would like to know.

Human visitors are easy.  She will BARK loudly and be THERE.  (Preferably ON THEM.)  But what if the threat is more sinister?  What if you were to look out and see the tall grass swaying in front of the corn fields, only to see a black cat taking her time, poking around the outside of your fence?  Bark!  Right?    Yet one bark caused the cat to turn and look this way.  Looking into the direction of the rising sun, her eyes were glowing.

Golden chicken looked back at me, to be sure she had human back-up, before proceeding half-way out the door, barking and wagging her tail, simultaneously.  She cautiously made it all the way out on the deck,  bark-bark-barking until the cat stopped.  Sat.  Stared.

Golden chicken came back inside.  It's better to protect the home from the inside.  When the cat was ready to move on, gc did go back outside to bark the dog equivalent of "that's right, you'd BETTER go!" until the cat finally sashayed to the next yard.  Our fierce, fluffy protector then felt empowered enough to venture out into the actual yard (ever so slowly) for one last bark ("yeah!") before running back into the house to make sure I was okay.

She's chewing on her security blanket, now.

Run for your life!

I am standing in my kitchen, telling myself it is time to exercise.  It is time for all of us to exercise.  (Not you--everyone in my kitchen.)  I need to go for a run with the dog and the 4-year-old needs to run outside.

We should have gone earlier but my son requested pancakes and I made them.  Far too many of them.  I am hungry and if I do not go run soon, I will eat them.  But instead, I am standing at my computer, reading this true, real, fascinating article.  Before I can finish the article, I see the grin on my 4-year-old's face.  The grin with an index finger in the middle of it.  The grinning child with the finger in his mouth is standing in the kitchen, trying to block my view of the tub of margarine with a 4-year-old-finger-sized canal running through it.

He's sneaky but he's honest.  "I ate butter.  I like to eat butter."

Sigh.  It's time for a run.

Moving past Teeewwwsday...

Hey, boys and girls!  It turns out, you're never really too old to have a theme for the day!

My youngest came home from preschool yesterday with an alligator pouch he'd made (full of "A" pictures) and an alligator dance.  You won't be surprised to learn that it featured a big "chomp!"

On the way to pick up the older two from school, I heard a little more chomp chomping from the back of the car.  This time, it was the dog.  Hers wasn't so much an alligator impression as she was trying to taste the DS game left in a cup holder.

We picked up my son first and while he mourned the loss of his Mario game, we picked up my daughter.  She placed a tiny present into my hand: the bracket that held her braces to her back molar.

I admire my friends and relatives who are dental hygenists and dentists.  I have never had any desire to put my hand inside anyone's mouth.  So after trying to coax Playdoh out of the dog's mouth a little later, I decided to open the wine, declare that I was off-duty and ordered pizzas for dinner.  (Yes, one was cheese-free!)

Consequences I can live with

I love spending time with my children.  I also love to read.  I think it is important to read to your children.

But a day off from any one of the above wouldn't kill anybody.

After spending two hours at the muddy playground with my youngest and the dog today, everyone needed a bath!  My exhuasted son did not want to get back out of the tub and was quite irritated that I kept trying to drain the tub.

"Mommy!  If you touch that drain ONE MORE TIME, you will not get to read me a bedtime story!"

Snow days

You have seen the storm rolling across the nation.  You can't see my state on the radar right now but we're still here, under that blanket of clouds, just like most of you.
In anticipation of the storm, my husband emailed me from work Monday, asking if we had all of the necessary supplies.  "Yes," I replied.  "We have plenty of wine and printer ink.  Oh, but we need milk." :)

We attempted to get my daughter to gymnastics as the edge of the storm rolled in and we never made it to Taekwondo but we stopped, on the way home, for the rest of the kids' essentials:  junk food.

So we're set.  I was grumpy, yesterday, as I'd planned to get much writing and reading done while I was "stuck" at home.  Unfortunately, with three wild kids who were also home, and who riled to dog up, too, I didn't accomplish much but cooking.  (I had the oven and the stove and the slow cooker going!)
Today the BIG snowflakes have arrived and are falling.  I gave up on being productive and made chocolate chip pancakes for the kids.  So now, they are building a fort, the dog is napping and I just might get something accomplished, after all! 

What ever happened to predictability? The milk man, the paper boy, evening tv?

Before I had children, I made silly, blanket statements.  I said judgemental things like, "I won't let my children watch mind-numbing television.  They will never play a video game with any amount of violence."  Before children, I could not understand how any reasonable person could put their child on a leash, like a pet.

I have three human children, now. The only claim above that I have stuck to is that I do not own a "child leash."  (Clearly, if I was going to "cave" on one, that should have been the winner!)
Before we brought our current dog into our home, we vowed not to give her any "people food" of any kind.

Today, Gracie is one year old.

Our dog has tried most forms of "people food" by now and though we do not give her chocolate, I made her a cake.  A meatloaf cake.  With cheese "icing."  WHY?

Because my children have seen FAR too many old episodes of "Full House," including one with Comet's birthday.  (You will be shocked to learn that their dog was served a meatloaf cake frosted with cheese "icing.")  And because I ask all of my children what what type of cake they would like for each and every birthday but the dog cannot speak for herself--all three children agreed, unanimously, that Gracie wanted a meatloaf cake with cheese icing.

I do not eat meat.  The idea AND sight of ground meat disgusts me.  But I cook meat for my family, occasionally.  Today--I put my hands in a bowl of ground turkey, raw egg and a few other delicious ingredients--and made a meatloaf cake.  For our DOG.

I need an undercoat

I know what you're thinking. You think the blonde roots have resurfaced. (They haven't, what you see is grey.) You think I mean I need an overcoat.

It is snowing. It isn't icy, it isn't slippery, I can handle snow. The wind today, however, will cut through you. Not a little jab. Not through to your bones but all-the-way-through your bones. This is butcher-knife wind.

As a mother and sometimes-responsible pet owner, I know the dog would enjoy a good 2-mile run. (Good for the dog and safer for my offspring, who will not be pounced upon immediately upon entering the house, IF I take her for a run). Said pet, a golden retriever, has an undercoat. While I can see the wind blowing her fur everywhichway, she is unfettered. She lies in the snow, rolls in the snow and eats the snow. A moment later, I am almost reduced to tears when I open the door to call her in. Not because I don't want her in the house but because I opened the door. I let the wind in. It hurt.

I have the fire going, am wearing my slippers on and hold yet another hot mug of coffee in my hands. I have to go pick up the older two children from school in half an hour, so they won't be standing out in the wind but I don't want to go out there. I need an undercoat.

Rainy days and...Tuesdays

Do not, on a rainy day, ask your child what he feels like doing, because I assure you that what he feels like doing, you won't feel like watching.
~Fran Lebowitz

A gloomy, rainy Tuesday should be a good day to hole up and get lots of writing done.
Unless you happen to be in the house with a three-year-old and a puppy who are also holed up, staying in from the rain.

The rambunctious puppy has a new bowl of breakfast. (The little guy dumped her first bowl into her water dish. I guess he thought she'd like it more like cereal, this morning.)

She (the dog) is staring down the boy who is pretending to watch Max & Ruby but is really trying to figure out which Christmas decoration to dismantle next.
**Correction: in the time it took to type that, I realized the boy is actually surrounding himself with toys--the DOG's toys. No wonder she is staring, biding her time, waiting to pounce.

The dog really needs a run. And now, I have one of these. Which makes it easier and fun to run when the wind is at my back, pushing us along. The return trip though--pushing a wind SHIELD AGAINST the wind--seems like a little too much effort, at the moment.

Will I write today? Absolutely.
Will I reach my Nano goal today? Not unless this weather not only lulls little children and big dogs into nice naps but into nice, long, coma-like naps. Now I'm feeling sleepy, too...

To perk myself up, I'm also over here, reading Joshilyn Jackson's blog. Go on over. While I recommend her books, I insist that you read her blog. Even if it is about a Monday. Go!

The voices are getting louder

I mentioned characters and, perhaps, an actual person from the past speaking to me.

Yesterday, I was upstairs and heard my son calling me from the backyard. He was out there with the dog, so I came running down to see what was wrong. When I made it to the backyard, I found them running in the grass. Both were FINE. So I asked why he'd yelled.
He shrugged. "I didn't."
Oh.

Last night, I was in my bedroom when I heard my daughter call me. (I thought it was her. I am always getting in trouble for going to the wrong room when the other has actually called me.) But this time, they both frowned at me for coming into the wrong room. Neither of them called me. I was sure my youngest was asleep so I gave up.

At 4am, I nearly jumped out of bed when I heard a door slam. I looked at my husband--he'd heard it, too. We looked at each other, then heard the gate at the bottom of the stairs slam shut. We both got out of bed but after I second, I told my husband I was sure it was our older son. (He offered to sneak down and scare the snot out of him but wisely refrained.) When I did not hear any refrigerators opening or water running, I went to check. He was in bed. I checked my daughter's room, and she was in bed. Our youngest never gets out of bed in the middle of the night. Ever. (If he wakes--he cries, calls or just sits there but he does not even get out of his bed in the morning until someone comes to open his door).

But it had to be him. His door was still shut but that would explain the slammed door we'd heard. Sure enough, I went in and found his bed empty.

I went downstairs and found him standing in the dark living room. "I heard Daddy calling me so I came down here," he said, "but now I can't find him."

(I got him back upstairs and we assured him it was a dream. He wasn't completely convinced. He asked his Dad twice more why he'd called him.)

While I was putting him back in bed, I remembered the Bible story where the son woke his father three times, asking why he'd been called. The father finally realized it was God calling his son. My son was, apparently, only called once. And he is three. I don't think God has a message for a three-year-old that can't wait until morning.

Clearly then, there are only two possibilities:
I've invited spirits into the house that want to mess with us (now I know I'm not the only one hearing them) or, the dog has taken up ventriloquism.

Frantic Friday

Yesterday was busy but not with much writing. So I'm far behind on the word count goal.

Fridays are normally "my" days. (My youngest goes to a "Mom's Time Out" on Wednesdays and Fridays. Wednesdays, I volunteer at my older son's school during that time. Friday mornings are mine. But Thursday afternoon, the little guy got sick. So he's staying home, this morning. It is a Toy Story marathon morning here, with many interruptions to occupy the dog who is ready to PLAY. Somewhere in there, I've got a lot of work to do to make up for being very, very behind on my word count on the new novel.

At the moment, though the toddler is asking to make lemonade. And hiding in the pantry. I wonder if it's dark in there...
I bet somebody had a pantry 150 years ago. And a kid who liked to hide in it...

I wonder if I can count blog posts as part of my word count? ;)

Tuesday to-do list

Another load of laundry done, this morning? Check.

Get kids off to school? Check. (In reverse order, unfortunately, so one was a few seconds late. Not a lot--but late enough to need a tardy slip. Back to the "regular" order, tomorrow!)

Vote? Check. The three-year-old even tried to help.

Get dog groomed? We'll be there in an hour.

Catch up on my Nano goal? Oh....right. 400 words in, this morning. Here's hoping we still get a nap in for J, during or after the dog grooming!!!

(If not, we'll hope for Plan B: where J takes a late nap, after I pick up the older two and drop oldest at gymnastics. He can nap while C does homework and then, maybe, I can get a few hundred more in...)

How's your Tuesday going?

Whew!

No nap on Monday, no nap on Tuesday. It was starting to look like my youngest was ready to give up his naps! He will be three on Monday--the same day Nano begins. Which is why he cannot give up his naps, just yet! ;)

He argued about it today. (This is the child who has never given us any trouble about going to bed or taking naps). I know the end is near but I really need him to keep napping, for at least another month!

I had to wake him up, this morning to get him and his siblings to their dental appointments by 8am. After HIS first visit to the dentist (he has been dying to get behind that magic door!), I dropped his siblings off at their respective schools and took him to his Time Out program. He played with kids and had a snack while I went back to the elementary school for library time. When I picked him up, he had a few treats he'd been given for Halloween. He had a little sugar in the car and a little more with lunch. That was probably not the right menu for someone getting ready to go to bed!

He is finally asleep! I played fetch with the dog and now she is asleep. I have an hour until I have to leave to get the older kids. I can finish the dishes or fold clothes or take a shower or write or read. But I am daydreaming about taking a nap.

Hum dum dum ditty dum

Oh the wind is lashing lustily

And the trees are thrasing thrustily

And the leaves are rustling gustily

So it's rather safe to say

That it seems that it may turn out to be

It feels that it will undoubtedly

It looks like a rather blustery day, today

It sounds that it may turn out to be

Feels that it will undoubtedly

Looks like a rather blustery day today

~ Winnie The Pooh and the Blustery Day, Richard M. Sherman & Robert B. Sherman

Long days, Mondays. Longer yesterday--middle child had to be at school at 0-dark-thirty to ride the bus to the Red Ribbon Breakfast. Poor kid had a nosebleed on the way to school (yes, they wear uniforms--nice WHITE shirts). He received a new, red t-shirt at the breakfast to wear over his uniform and won a prize from a drawing: a giftcard for Playstation Network! So, he's good!

My daughter has gymnastics until 9pm on Mondays so everyone (but the little guy) seems to go to bed a little later on Mondays.

Tuesdays are the easy days. Tuesdays are the days I know I will have time to get the stroller and run with the dog while I get the little guy to the playground. So the three of us exercise, on Tuesdays. But it is WINDY. And WET. I can't open the windows so my house smells like a mix of new carpet (installed yesterday) and wet dog.

But I have time to sneak in a little writing, during Dora the Explorer episodes. Maybe I will even get around to sharing more details from the conference last weekend. (I promised details after I'd slept, which hasn't really happened yet, so maybe...) Or read a few more pages. I started Therese Fowler's Souvenir on the plane ride home. I hope to finish it soon. The first half rocks!

Enjoy your Tuesday!

We all have work to do!

My deadline is fast approaching--and I haven't made it very far, yet!
We taught the dog to "drop the ball" yesterday and she was great at it! Today, she is looking at me like I am speaking Dutch.
My son wants to watch an episode of a tv show AGAIN so I paused it and told him we can resume the show as soon as he can tell me what six times seven is. He left, to go play in his room.
It seems we all have a bit of work to do!

Maybe I just need patio furniture!

After I stayed up far too late (intending to write but not getting very far), I got up this morning to try again. I've been given some unanticipated quiet time as I am the only one up besides the dog but she wants to PLAY! A big dog biscuit/chew in exchange for a few undisturbed minutes on the computer isn't really SO wrong, is it? ;)

Otherwise, I considered sitting out on our newly covered deck with the laptop while I watch her run around the backyard. Option 2 is certainly better for her but I can't find my tv tables and can't figure out how to balance my coffee cup and my laptop in just a lawn chair!

It is time to pick out a table and chairs for our new pretty deck!

Nature vs. nuture

No matter how you raise them, little boys are genetically predisposed to act like little boys. (Especially my youngest--he is ALL boy!)

Puppy dogs, no matter how much you treat them like toddlers, will still behave like animals. I cannot blame a pup for trying to bury a bone (even if the "bone" is an edible dog biscuit.) I can't blame a dog for trying--until she tries to bury it in the leather couch!

One month later