Just a Blurb.

My fuse is as short as a pig's tail this morning.
I was home sick with the boys all day yesterday with the most annoying of all sicknesses: Pinkeye. Pinkeye ain't so bad if you don't wear contacts. For me, it locks me up in my house, with my ancient glasses, no make-up, feeling like a slob.
Yesterday was a long, slow, relaxing day. I enjoyed it. I went through every.single. one. of the boys toys and got rid of five bags of them. Glory hallelujah! Then we went for a walk to the park and enjoyed the first day in a long time with blue skies and warm temperatures. In the fifties of course. We take what we can get around here. The biggest thing was there was very little wind.
But today it's one day too many and my patience is worn thin. I don't know why...too much coffee? Not enough food? Pinkeye? The medicine I took for my recurring sinus infection?  Who knows.  I feel jittery and like old thin branch about to snap.
I skype with my sister in about twenty minutes, which should help, as long as I can find something for the boys to do.
I'd stick them both in front of a long movie except Noah isn't into them yet. With Ethan I was oh so careful the amount of TV I let him watch when he was one or two (No more than twenty minutes a day!) and then with Noah I sit him on the couch and try to sell it: "OOOOOOO!! A MOVIE!!!! how fun!! Let's sit here with our blankie, and snacks, really good snacks....and WATCH IT!!! YAY!!!!" But, alas, it only takes about ten minutes and he slides off the couch, looking for something really naughty or dangerous to get into. 
Yesterday he only tried to kill himself three times. Thankfully we came out of the day with only a minor cut above the eye and bruises on the chin and forehead.
Today the skies are covered in white clouds and it looks cold. I can't wait for summer.

Goodbyes.

I am a bad, bad, bad, bad, BAD person.
As I sit here and write there are no little dog paws prancing around my kitchen. Feibi was picked up today by a pair of RVer's from Oklahoma and Riley is on her way to the Humane Society.
(Big sigh).
I have been crying on and off all day long. I decided to put Feibi up solo on Craigslist knowing that small dogs go fast and it would be harder to place the two together, especially with Riley's health problems (did I mention she is, no was, starting to  leave poo all over my kitchen floor every other morning or so?). As was expected I got quite a few calls on Feibi right away and am still continuing to get them.
Feibi will be fine, I hope. The couple who came to my doorstep to pick her up were late sixties, high riding RV people from Oklahoma who were in Reno for a gun show. He was short and stout and from the way his shirt was mis-buttoned you could see his left boobie kinda just hanging out under his shirt. He had what looked like sailer tattoos and what I pray to God were not prison tattoos on his forearms. He was direct and dry and would say some sort of a joke ("I'm not fully dressed if I don't have dog hair all over me") at random times with a completely straight face. I liked him.
She was smiley with blondish gray whispy hair going all over the place. She had on a light pinkish flower shirt and her jeans had a hole in them ("You really gotta fix that hole, Mary!" her husband says).
They have two Rat Terriers (NOT Jack Terriers, as I was quickly corrected) who ride with them everywhere they go on the dash of the motorhome. Feibi should fit right in.
The only thing that worried me was when he started talking about the types of treats he gives his dogs. He tells me in his thick, Oklahoman accent, "Yeah, we giv'em chicken bits and bull penis'. They just love'em. I get'em for twenty dollars a pound. They can't get enough of 'em."
At this point I just couldn't picture Feibi chewing on a bull's penis but I smiled and went with it. She will probably love it, and I sure as heck am not buying her anything as exquisite.
Riley, on the other hand, is on her way to the Humane Society. With her health issues I know she will be hard to place and she will probably be put down. The whole thing is just heart breaking, from beginning to end. If you have followed my blog since the beginning you know that after I graduated college I wanted a dog.  Feibi and Riley were number three and four; the first two didn't work out at all. Riley and Feibi were a good pair and they worked; I just never once considered the cost of boarding my dogs every time we want to go on a vacation. Too much.
So. I am once again dogless. I will appreciate the ease of going out of town and not having to find someone to house-sit, or pay someone; not waking up to poo all over my kitchen floor, not having to worry about the neighbors hating us because of Feibi barking. I will not miss the yearly shots and 100 lb bags of food from Costco, or the goo from Canada we buy at fifteen bucks a bottle so that their pee won't kill our grass.
But I will miss them. Dogs are worth having just because. They are little buddies, always ready to be with you even when you are at your worst. They don't care. They love you regardless. And I will miss that ready love.

At least Feibi will have her bull penis.
Oh I am a blubbering sobbing mess right now.

Playing Catch Up Again.

There's so much to catch up on! Again!
The most depressing and at the same time freeing thing is that we have decided to get rid of the dogs. I feel like such a bad person, like I have crossed over to the dark side.
Which is probably true.
So they are for sale on Craigslist. It is all very humbling to me. But I know it's better for my family. The hole I wanted those dogs to fill in my heart (seriously) has just turned into a pain in (mostly) my husband's ass.
For that darn hole in my heart, well, I have at least since realized dogs won't fill it, nor will another baby, or my husband, etc. etc.
Moving on....
Operation Butt, Hips, and Back of Thighs.
I have come to the conclusion that with as much as I work out I really have no excuse to have a part of my body that I don't like because it's not in shape.
Enter Operation Butt, Hips, and Backs of Thighs.
Starting whenever the weather warms up I am going to be doing serious boot camp on my butt. There is a hill right out my front door that I am going to commit to running up it at least five times, three times a week. Tyra Banks was asked one time how she kept herself in shape and she nailed it: "I run. Hills."  (That's not a direct quote even though I just made it one, but she did say that's what she did).
I also am going to do the leg press and hamstring thing at the gym with enough weight to make me break a sweat when I do it on the opposite two days I don't run.
This is what I feel like I have been missing: WEIGHT.  To help tone it all up and make it perky instead of saggy, smooth instead of craters of cellulite.
I had sort of come to accept my butt/backs of legs as is but I have never really tried to focus and change them. The rest of my body has gone with the program and toned up quite nicely. My butt however is stubborn so I am going to kill it.
Maybe if I get brave I will post some progress pictures, but actually as I write that it is a very dumb idea. I will not be posting even covered pictures of my rear on my blog (cheers from Joey!).
Moving on...
We re-did our bedroom, a little mini-make-over. I love love love it!! And I should post pictures but I am just too lazy. Maybe later.
We have been doing all sorts of spring cleaning and it all started because we bought a new vacuum that actually worked. When Joey and I saw the amount of dirt coming out of what we thought were relatively clean carpets we both wanted to puke and cough all at the same time.
Even since we have been on a cleaning frenzy over here: the blinds, the floor boards, organizing closets and pantries, re-doing our bedroom...it  feels so good!
Makes me think of that book The Tipping Point and how in life there is a point where things reach and from there they just take off; the vacuum was our tipping point. I can't stop now. I want to clean and paint and re-do everything.
We've been in this house five years now, enough time for it to need to be deep cleaned. 
But of course right now I have two options: find some dusty thing to deep clean with q-tips and an old toothbrush or go take a nap in our new bedding.

What's been Happenning. I've Missed My Blog!

I haven't written in so long! I've been busy! uninspired! and busy!
I am looking for a new job. Not that my old one is bad or anything it's just that I want something full time. And with all the cutbacks due to the economy blah blah blah, my family will in the very near future need mama to be working full time.With benefits. (I can safely say all this on the Internet due to the unfortunate fact that the staffing agency I signed up with decided to call to "verify" my current employment while I was making small talk with my boss. That was fun).
Anyway, trying to find a good job is a full time job in itself: the resume (trying to adjust and manipulate pre-formulated formats: oh just shoot me!); the interviews (the outfit, the nails, the hair, the shoes, the bag, the toothbrush, the extra deodorant--you all know I sweat like a pig), the right smile, the right handshake. And of course, finding the time and child care to make it all happen.
It's crazy.
I am so so so thankful for my work in exercise on the side. I make money doing something I absolutely love!
The boys have been easier the last couple of weeks (which is maybe why I am so uninspired!). Life feels normal, predictable, safe. When it's like this I almost can't believe how crazy it can get sometimes, until I go back and read my blog. Heh heh.
It's about that time of year when all I do is start writing about the weather, and how bad I want summer, and how terribly cold it is, and how good it feels to feel the sun on my cheeks.
Yep. Brace yourself.  March and April are the hardest months for me to get through. I want summer so bad I feel like pressing a fast forward button.
This year, however, we have a slew of fun stuff planned to get us through these last two grueling months. We are planning on going to San Diego to see my new niece? or nephew? in a couple of weeks, whenever the little darling plans on getting out. Then we are going to go to Graeagle, one of my very favorite places in all the world with it's massive trees hundreds of years old and the stillness in the air when you take a walk after dinner...it's like the definition of peaceful, in a place. The smell of mountains and dirt and not of car exhaust. Anyway I love it and I love having my boys up there, seeing them enjoy all of the things I loved when I was little.
And then we are going to Vegas, me and my honey. I've never been to Vegas and I am so excited! Joey is running in a race and I am going to sit by the pool and shop. Then we will come together and go to some big race dinners and stuff and it is going to be dreamy and fabulous. We even get to go on a plane! I am sososososo excited!
And then it will be May, and hopefully the sun will have decided to stay, and I can breath and take off a lot of clothes and hang out in my backyard as much as possible. We'll get the pool out and sun bath as much as possible and if I can, talk Joey into getting a trampoline.
The other day at my pastors' house Ethan jumped on when of these things for hours, and heck, I still want one from my childhood. It's just a matter of finding the right spot, you know? Plus I heard they help you tan (they are black) and they are great with the sprinkler underneath or for a fun place to sleep in the summer. Ooooooo....see, now I want summer even more!!!

Eating.

I thought I was doing better with Noah and his refusal to eat.  I put a piece of hamburger meat in his mouth and he actually started chewing it. I looked away all happy and glowing inside until two seconds later when I happened to glance back at him and noticed he was rolling the meat out of his mouth with his tongue and then grabbing the tiny pieces off his chin with his fat fingers and throwing them to the dogs, just like normal. I gave him a desperate look and he looked back at me, his eyes saying, "What? That was totally disgusting. Any sane human being would do the same thing."
His table manners have gotten really, really bad. He throws spaghetti, cereal, or anything you put in front of him. He smashes it on his tray and then chucks it to the side or behind him. It would be hilarious if it weren't my kid, or my kitchen floor, or my laundry.
I don't know how he's surviving, but he seems to be doing just fine. He's got a little chub in the behind and he's growing tall.
His teeth are priceless. They are coming in at all different times and sizes and in all different places. It's like looking into a mouth full of miniature glaciers. And then when they all come together in that puffy cheek grin he does it just about busts your heart in a million pieces.

You Know. Just Another Thursday in Crazyville.

Today was a crazy day (are we starting to see a pattern here?). Riley had her rabies shot appointment, and since I had already switched it a couple of times, I decided I better just get it over with. I always do this with the dogs: make their shot appointments, and then call and reschedule ten times before I actually suck it up and go. We were only about ten minutes late, which was a miracle if you take into account the massive poo Noah decided to have as we were running out the door.
So, there we are, me, my two boys, and my paranoid dog. I happened to ask the vet if  he thought she was blind (her white eyes sorta gave it away for me) and he said yes. Completely.
So that's why she keeps running into the sliding glass door! And tripping over her dog bowl! And running into the open dishwasher! And I thought she was just dumb.
He also said we need to do a blood test ($) to see if she has diabetes ($$$) and also that there is a specialist in town that removes dog cataracts ($$$$$$$$$).
I have decided it is time to start saying my goodbyes to this sweet, good-looking, pitiful dog.
I am more worried about Fiebi, my other dog, than anything else. Fiebi is fine, as long as Riley is babysitting her. Left alone, Fiebi screams and cries like a two year old and then her only solace is sucking and chewing on my dinning room table chairs. Or, she works herself up so much she barfs or has diarreah all over my kitchen floor. I'm not sure if she thinks Riley is her soul mate or her mother, but either way when she is not with her she freaks out.
After the vet we drove to Wal-mart for an eye appointment. I've gone in for "follow ups" every two weeks now since my contact incident at that long awaited Christmas party which was a long, long time ago. My eyes won't settle. They keep getting worse. It's horrible. The next step is bifocals.
BIFOCALS!!!!!
Are you freaking kidding me. Maybe some rich soul out there will feel sorry for me as the youngest woman ever to have to wear bifocals and sponsor my lasik surgery. And maybe they'd throw in breast augmentation while they're at it. That would be awesome.
After Wal-mart (I know,I know:  we entered the you-are-a-brave-brave(or stupid)-mommy-for-running-more-than-two-errands territory) we drove to Plato's Closet because I had some clothes there I had to pick up or they would put them all back and not give me my money for the clothes I had brought in two days before. I hadn't been able to finish THAT day without the kids because the store was backed up, so today there I was: freaked out, dying dog in the car; and my two kids, already two errands in, on the verge of lunch and nap time.
Can you say tense? My neck and shoulders still are not relaxed from it, even though we got home safe and sound almost four hours ago.
We picked up Old McDonald's on the way home and I got Ethan a happy meal. I didn't think to get anything for Noah, because you  know, as the second child everythings an after thought, but he ended up eating more chicken nuggets and fries than Ethan did. Good to know.
Then they both went down for their naps and I lied down to see if I could steal another nap like the other day. It sorta worked. Enough that I feel good. Noah is still sleeping and Ethan is watching his movie, and here I am, blogging about just another plain 'ole day.
Life's good. Looking forward to the weekend!

Focus.

I feel like I need a vacation from screens, and buttons, and all things electronic. Something like a month or two in the mountains with nothing but hot water and a blankie and the big trees to keep me company. Oh, and a lake. 
I got this new iphone to try and stay up with the times and really I don't know if it's the phone or if it's just me but my brain has turned into scrambled eggs.
There's too much going on people! Can't we just focus on ONE THING AT A TIME?! I read this awesome article about this woman who went to some place like Switzerland and learned how to focus on one thing at a time by milking goats.  It was enlightening, revolutionary really.  See, the thing was, the goats could tell if her mind was on anything else and the milk just wouldn't come out. She had to completely focus on them and the task at hand or they dried up like raisins in the sun.
I lack focus. My mind is always going going goiNG goING GOING!!!! It's hard to enjoy things, especially children, when my mind is always wanting to do stuff.
And they are cute. Tonight Ethan was a bunny with his jammy legs on his head for ears. He ate his whole dinner that way. Then we played school and he set up books as the children and when it was time to sit he would lay them all down and when it was time to stand he would stand them all up.
Laborious, I know. But also genius, don't you think? He was "Miss Fawn" and I was "Miss Amber" and led the "kids" in a song (the bad ones had to go to a time out chair) and then taught them about Saturn. "But, Miss Amber, why is SaDurn 'sad'?" I tried to explain it wasn't "sad" but "Sat" like "Saturday", but he didn't seem to really get it and kept looking at me like I was just making excuses.
 It was fun. I haven't had fun with him in a while. The clerk at Walmart (seems like lots of significant things happen at Walmart...) said out of the blue to me, "He's precious. We don't think so when we are raising them, but we miss them when they are gone." I don't even think I had a murderous mommy look on my face or anything, he just said it because he wanted to. And I needed to hear it after the last six days we've had with my first born.
"He's precious."
Yes, he is.