Poor old Dennis

As Spring Break draws to a close, the beautiful weather has gotten "beautifuller". Tempting as it is to let the boy play his new Legos Avengers video game, we chose to take the dog to the dog park. The first trip came and went without much excitement. Based on the mass exodus of pets and owners upon the arrival of two dock-eared intimidators, we got out of there as quickly as we could. They were mounting everything that wasn't attached to the ground and desperately trying to show their very unneutered dominance. The boy started asking questions, but luckily the dog was barking loud enough that he soon lost interest in trying to carry on a conversation. As we were leaving, we saw several high school ball players arriving, so we decided to go home, hydrate, pack a picnic dinner and go back for the baseball game for a bit before soccer practice. A flurry of excitement and activity ensued before we left, but they were excited for the change in the norm and the possibility of viewing a sporting event of any kind. Copper is always up for a trip to the dog park. She is a super fan of that place. I have learned that some growling, barking and teeth showing is part of the whole canine play process, but my children are freaked out about it. When we entered the park for trip number two, not a dog to be found. Okay, just let her sniff and run. It is all good. Then a very talkative, very super New York lady came with her dog...Dennis. Poor ole' Dennis. She stood and told us exactly every dynamic of the dog park and how it worked. She compared the dogs play biting each other with their gums like "your grandpa gumming his corn on the cob with the few teeth he has left". The kids looked at each other puzzled since both of their grandfathers have their teeth in tact for effectively eating corn on the cob. Another dog, Tiger the German Shepherd, came in for a visit. He had been injured at the dog park several weeks ago with a sprain, so Dennis's mother made it clear that she would communicate to Dennis that he needed to lay off Tiger's right front leg. Communicate? Really? Every time those two guys got to playing with each other, mom of Dennis kept yelling, in her best not so nasal Fran Drescher, "Dennis? BOO BOO!!! Dennis? BOO BOO!!!". Apparently that is how she communicated to him the other dog was hurt. My children retreated to seperate corners of the park, trying with little success to not laugh at poor Dennis and his situation. After a while, I could take no more and we retreated to the ball game. We could still hear, "Dennis? BOO BOO!!" from quite a distance away. Poor old Dennis.


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Uneasy in the unknown

As is every Spring Breaker's dream, we made our every few months trek to the allergist's office to try and figure out if they have chiseled away anymore mess to get to what has made our oldest have such weird health issues and reactions. Anyone who sees any kind of specialist knows, the word "specialist" really means 2hour+ wait. Luckily we came armed with ipads and books and my phone to try and keep people occupied during the wait. We really didn't need any of it out in the waiting room. A lady and her 9 year old daughter shared their piercing and tattooing history with the whole waiting room at top volume. Even though the child was too young for conventional tattooing, the artists not working on her mother gave her Sharpie sleeve work every time she went in to wait. They did share that the 9 year old had lots of piercings and not all in her ears. Luckily S was called back and we didn't have time to sit and think exactly where a child would be pierced other than ears. No answers were found this round, but the two youngers documented their feelings about sitting there all morning:



The boy is crazy, but I felt his pain. I just couldn't visually demonstrate it as he did. After escaping the office and getting lunch, we changed clothes and headed to the dog park to wear out, well, everybody. It worked and we got to see the agile jumping and footwork of a beautiful border collie mix that practically flew when she went after her frisbee. I hope Copper was taking notes.

The kids are all worn out and in bed. The girls are probably in bed together watching something on Netflix. The boy? Wiped I am sure. I am finishing up to get ready and watch Scandal. I don't plan on sleeping for a while. Night, Gladiators. Have a good sleep.


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Lucky number 7

Well it has happened again. My son has turned another year older...and I don't like it. Seven years ago, this sweet little ball of joy came into our lives. His delivery was a pretty darn trying one. I swear there were probably fingernail marks where he tried to stay in his nice little cave. The doctor was in no real hurry. He'd check every once in a while and then he and my "concerned" husband went back to their viewing of a glassblowing documentary on the Discovery channel. When he finally arrived, sunny side up, he was just perfect! Our Spring Break baby. For his birthday, we went to a new to us safari park, Circle G Ranch. He took a buddy and we went on our way to see a water buffalo, zebras, camels, various deer/antelope/goat like creatures and lots of pot bellied pigs. We all learned lots of facts, fed food pellets to the animals and got to pet some creatures. This one followed us everywhere:



Post safari we went to, wait for it, the Pizza Inn. Birthday boy gets his birthday meal wish. Before anyone jumps all over me, just know that I am a Christian and I am well into the Lenten season and the journey to the cross. This is one of the most soul searching and meaningful times of the year. That being said, I was taken by surprise when I saw this display on top of the salad bar:



Not usually the place I would usually expect to see a crown of thorns, but there it was. It never hurts to be reminded even in the oddest of places.

After a meal of pizza that did not involve OCD patrons or violent customers of any type, we went home for present opening and cake eating. The boy was very excited and grateful for each gift, playing with each one throughout the evening. His Avengers cookie cake was a big hit, setting us all to hanging from the ceilings with the icing's sugar content:



He is now resting comfortably, a newly turned 7 year old exhausted from a day of excitement. What a super kid he is growing up to be. It breaks my heart to realize how quickly he's grown, but I don't regret a single second spent with this coolest of kids. What a gift he is...
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Hell indeed has frozen over

The kids got home today. I was so happy to see their faces, but the transition back into the real world after being in shangri-la is always a tough one for them. The hub and I did enjoy having some time to do grown up stuff and practical things that turn into torturous events for kids 18 and under. Today I went to my happy place when thrown in the middle of 5,000,000,000,000 different flooring samples. I think our guy realized we needed to end our session and give brains a rest when I sat down on their nice old repurposed church pew, rubbed my eyes and ran my hands through my hair. We actually found some possibilities, but must wait for our kitchen guy to come back into the office. Sooooo, we headed back to the car and made our way to the next destination: the Apple Store...again. Our computer has been in its death throes for quite a while now and we needed to make a decision. The hub has built our PCs as long as I can remember, so this was a big step. We saw lots of our friends from yesterday's phone experience and they were friendly and interested as to why we were back. I even saw an old friend from my childhood who works there now. He looked very important and I never got to speak to him. Not sure if he was purposely trying to ignore me and honestly didn't remember...maybe somewhere in the middle. Oh well. Our guy, Coleman, was excellent and a Jack of all trades. He had the patience of Job as did my husband. In the end, he was making the decision for the children or that's what we decided to say. He will never be 100% Apple, but a large step was taken today. The kids are thrilled for sure.



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Sandy beds, sinks and Shaved Apple heads

With the kids gone for a day or so, the hub and I stayed up late watching shows we knew they wouldn't like. Because of this we went to bed late and conked out fast seeing as how we are lightweighs when it comes to late bedtimes. Poor guy, the hub was so sleepy. He started sawing some major logs...and I was a bad person. I kept poking him and pushing him and kicking him...guilt got the best of me and I got up. The boy's bed was close, so I crawled in there for some sleep and to not pop the husband in the side anymore. I pulled down the sheets, crawled in and basically landed in a mini sandbox. How that child could sleep in that and where it came from I do not know. Regardless, it was less than comfortable and I look forward for a sleep redo tonight. We decided to do as much kitchen remodel stuff while the kids were gone as we could, so we headed to the kitchen store. While the lighting lady was wonderful and plied us with freshly baked cookies from a $10,000 oven, the sink lady was like the drill seargant of kitchen sales. She intimidated me to death and I sure hope she got home from work in time to watch Dancing With the Stars, because that is the only human thing she expressed interest in during our conversation. I think she might be a robot. After this encounter, we decided to head to the Apple Store for more abuse. Suprisingly enough, we were pleasantly surprised. We were met by extremely friendly people who were obviously very bored and craving conversation while we waited for the hub's phone to restore. We had many conversations about odd things with our new best friend Matt:



At that particular moment, he was demonstrating to all of us how to freeze like a statue on command. We were all impressed. He also introduced us to the growing in popularity "Pixar Theory" which states that all the Pixar films are related. Google it and watch the 12 minute youtube clip explaining it...then go to the Apple Store and talk with Matt about it. Mind. Blown.

Here's hoping to better sleep tonight. The kidlets return tomorrow and I hope to have a more restful night upon their return. The boy's 7th birthday is coming up on Wednesday and I, well, I don't want to talk about it. It is all just going too fast. My little baby is growing up. I said I don't want to talk about it. I'll just mull the Pixar Theory over as I try to sleep. Night all.


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I love a good war movie

The hub and I are loners for a couple of days, so we are trying to get some not so kid friendly things done and get some viewing done of movies and shows that the kids wouldn't necessarily like. I want to see The Monuments Men. Not only does it have an interesting cast, but it is a good fight against the Nazis movie. Maybe it is because I am a tomboy, maybe because I have a big brother, but I love a good and well cast fight against the Nazis/bad guys war movie. Maybe I like them a little too much. I can remember sitting next to my brother, decked out in our Army surplus store fatigues or military coats and hats, settling down to watch The Dirty Dozen or The Great Escape or Kelly's Heroes. I must admit that I ordered the DVD of Stalag 17 for S for Christmas this year. We haven't watched it yet, but Spring Break is here. It's gonna happen. William Holden is the best.

Does my latest movie request get the best critiques? No. Is it getting 5 out of 5 stars? Nope. But it is based on a true story about brave men who went to save and preserve the beauty created by artists purely for us to freely enjoy and appreciate. The men who preserved what Hitler wanted so desperately to enjoy. I'm ready to watch...then I'll binge watch True Detective before the kids come home and things turn all Disney/Nick and angsty teen viewing. But we will watch the POW's in Stalag 17. Oh yes, we will.


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Soccer and graduation...whew!

We had a glorious day for the first day of Spring soccer season. I even managed to dress appropriately and not allow my children to get completely scorched in the sun. I consider this a successful day. The girls each ame away with a win and the boy's team just played each other since the other team had, as they say, "The Strep". G got injured a bit as she tangled with another player and landed with a pretty sickening thud on the ground. S clonked up her knee as she tangled with another as well. But it is all good...they both walked away although G took a bit longer.

After the games, we rushed home to wash the field off of our nasty selves and readied the house for Copper's last obedience class. This was the biggie...graduation. She had to perform several tricks and commands to Aunt Julie's approval. She passed them all. After her exam, she was presented with her diploma and a graduation cake:



The cake was made of peanut butter, banana, cream cheese and nuts. Needless to say, she inhaled it in three gulps, one from each of the children. She will now move on to the next course and we can't wait. We love Aunt Julie and her dog wisdom. I think she enjoys our family and, most importantly, Copper the escape artist. How could you not? Crazy, crazy dog.


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