Sometimes, Kids Say Logical (and Hysterical) Things.

The other day, we saw our small black dog sporting a bandanna. After a discussion with Dh, we realized the kids were responsible. When we asked them why, Girl1 replied,

"Because he stayed still long enough for us to do it."

I'm living in a zoo.

The whole dryer situation has me a bit overwhelmed right now. The washer and dryer aren't a luxury for us. They really are a necessity. We have 4 kids & 4 pets. We need a working washer and dryer.

I mentioned the 4 pets on twitter and that was a smack in the face. FOUR pets? When in the world did my house turn into a zoo? Well, one could argue that it always was.

When I remember how each of our fuzzy children found us, it doesn't seem quite so overwhelming. When you shove them all together and count them, though, yeah, that'll shock ya. That will probably injure you too since they don't get along together in a group setting. Yeah, that's putting it mildly.

Cat1 & Funnel Face were shelter rescues. We were newly married when we adopted Cat1 as a companion for a cat I brought into the marriage (who was the most wonderful pet in the world and has since passed away). Problem was, MyCat hated Cat1 with a passion. So, for dh's birthday the following year, we adopted teeny tiny Funnel Face as a companion for Cat1. They got along wonderfully.

Okay 2 cats. That's not bad. 2 cats isn't an insane number of animals.

Then we adopted a dog. The Nutless Wonder is a consequence of the "war" in Iraq. He was about 6 months old when his owner (a friend of dh's) was sent to Iraq. Unable to care for the dog, he gave him to us. This dog has given our family the gift of countless hours (and therefore posts) of funny dog-related comments.

2 cats and a dog is starting to be a bit much, but still within reason, isn't it? Particularly given the manner in which said dog found his way to our family.

The 4th addition to our family is PresidentCat. He is my sister's fault. Her husband drove home from work one evening and heard a baby crying. After some searching, they found that baby was actually an approximately 4 week old kitten that had ridden home in his engine. How he survived, I know not. Upon washing off the filth, my sister found the kitten looked similar to the then departed MyCat. The sister played foster mom for a short while and then he came to live with us. He is not my cat. He is my daughters' cat. He adores them and only them. He tollerates the rest of us.

When you look at them each individually and see how they came to us, it seems bearable. When you look at them en mass, though (and the havok they wreak in the process), it's almost enough to make you run screaming. Then again, maybe that's just me.

I promised photographic evidence

and who am I to let you down?

If you give two kids some potholder loops, the ability to finger knit and a small dog, you will wind up with this:*



When they first lavished the dog with their crafty goodness, I couldn't help but think that they're giving this guy a run for his money:




In one day, the twins have finger knitted various goodies for the pets, toys, and various others (including a pink and yellow wig for a giraffe, a multi-color leash for a camel and countless bracelets for friends and family). By the end of this coming week, I'm sure we'll have an entire wardrobe to rival that chihuahua clown's.

*No pets were injured in the making of this entry. I can't guarantee there was no humiliation, but I can assure you the dog wasn't permanently scarred.

Say what?

I just heard these words come out of my mouth:

"Dog, you can stop barking now. The Mormons are gone."

Hello, hello, hello is there anybody out there? Just nod if you can hear me. Is there anyone at all?

I'm still here. I know I've been scarce and for that I apologize. Lots of chaos occurring at and around Chez Reiza. I still exist, though and I promise I will post something of more substance in the not-too-distant future.

Until then, here's a comment from the husband that struck me as funny.

"I don't believe this dog has to go to the bathroom. I think he just has a good memory and really wants pie."

A recap of the hilarious soundbites from my week

"Decaf is a French word meaning, 'Complete waste of time'."(me)

"Don't put your underwear on the dog." (dh to TheBoy)

"Just go to the bathroom, already. Mama can't poop for you!" (Girl2 to TheBoy)

Me: What do you want to be when you grow up?
TheBoy: Soupy-heawoe.

Overheard at my house

I made this comment today to the dog,
"Your brother doesn't need your help. Leave him alone. (pause) Now you see what I mean? You try to help him out and he jumped on your head."

Random link Wednesday

There's oh so much I should write, but instead of tackling any of that, I'll leave you with this:

I Do Dog Tricks

Type in a trick (stand, speak, sit, etc) and he'll do it. Make sure you try, "Kiss." That's my favorite.

Blah

So, guess what I am? I believe the technical term for this feeling would be, "Blah."

I'm just feeling down lately for a number of reasons.

Restaurants hate me. I never get to go to them. I love them dearly, but they apparently have some sort of force field that keeps me away. About this fact, I am greatly displeased.

Yesterday, plans to go out to eat with friends got nixed which ticked me off more than I realized. So I hit the phone and called a bunch of friends trying to find someone I could meet up with for a change of lunch plans. Everyone was either sick, busy or at work.

So I told dh we'd go out for dinner. He was fine with that (which is odd because he hates going out to eat), but then that got nixed because my kids headed for Pestville at warpspeed and I refuse to reward bad behavior with a trip to any place that they adore. So yet another chance at going out was nixed. Can't you just see some little old man smacking my hand away screeching, "No restaurant for YOUUUUUU?"

I wanted Starbucks tonight after the Nutless Wonder's training class which is conveniently right across from a Starbucks, but that didn't happen for a number of reasons. My fault because I didn't say I wanted it, but I'm getting annoyed with dh's ability to get huffy lately. I didn't want to deal with the passive aggressive sighing, so I didn't say anything.

I adore Starbucks. Anyone who knows anything about me knows I love my iced coffee drinks with a frightening passion. So any time one is within 100 or so feet of a Starbucks, one should know to ask. One should make absolutely certain he/she offers me coffee when it is just hours before my birthday, there is a Starbucks right there and one is well aware that not only is said Starbucks within reach, but it can actually be on the way home if you just make one simple left turn. But, alas, no Starbucks.

I'm sensing this is going to be yet another in a LONG line of sucky birthdays. Last year, for the first time in a long time, I actually had a good day. The previous year had been a tough one, so I threw myself a birthday party. I needed it. I had a blast. This year, no party and no definite plans for anything. Every year, I hope for something, but that never happens.

Grrrrr. I love my birthday. I just hate that it gets screwed up year after year. There's so much potential, but it usually gets squashed.

Let's see how many people forget it completely. Let's see how many people stumble across this entry and say, "Oh shit! It was her birthday?"

Screw this. I'm going to bed.

In the eternal words of Eric Cartman: "Screw you guys. I'm going home." That and, "Mooooom. Kitty's being a dildo," but that last one really has nothing to do with this entry. Except, maybe that last word.

FTR, after about 12:30 pm tomorrow, I'll be home. If you have any clue where I live and you're in my metro area, feel free to show up at my door with coffee. Just don't expect me to invite you in. I have 3 kids, a dog, 2 cats, a husband who zones out with a book (when he's not sighing about granola bars), way too much junk of which I'm trying to dispose and a nice heaping case of malaise. Plus until just a few hours ago, it was Shabbat and G-d expressly said, "Dude, it's MY day. Step away from the mop!" Really, it's in there. Just bust out your copy of the Tanakh and you'll find it there. I promise.

Forget Xmas, we need a little funny

right this very minute. Although, maybe we can forgo the candles in the window and the carols at the spinet.

I need a giggle right now, so enjoy these:

My husband has named the dog’s stuffed bear YourNuts. This way, dh can ask, "Where's YourNuts?" The amusement is unending.

And now a word from my kids:

Yesterday, I overheard the girls playing. Girl2 tells her sister, "The kids aren't with me today. One is with her dad and my other kid is getting fixed."

A few weeks ago, dh and I stepped away from the table and when we came back, we found both girls had left. When faced with the question, "Did you ask to be excused," Girl1 replied, "Yes. I asked my sister and she asked me. We excused each other."

the Nutless Wonder

We are the proud new owners of a dog.

Our dog, however, is no longer the proud owner of testicles.

We dropped him off at the vet yesterday and picked him up today. He is now nutless and I have taken to referring to him as the "nutless wonder."

He's a pretty sweet dog. He's the perfect dog for kids. He's playful, but not too spazzy. He'll curl up and sleep in our laps. I'm still a bit undecided about him, but I'm warming up.

You see, with every animal that's come into my life, I get apprehensive for a while. I tend to go through that, "Maybe this was a bad idea," stage. Granted, I would never agree to give the animal up, it's just that it takes a bit of adjusting.


As a kid, I never went through that. Once I hit 14, though, every animal I adopted after that point left me feeling detached for the first few days. The only animal I adopted where I didn't have this feeling was Funnel Face. I actually did have a minute where I wondered if we made the right decision right after we adopted her, but then the tiny little grey ball of fluff (see the picture to your right of an 8-week-old FF on dh's lap) curled up next to me on my pillow and kissed my nose. That was the end of that.

So now we have the Nutless Wonder and I'm warming up to him. The kids adore him as does dh. The cats, however, not so much.

I know we're insane for getting a dog when we have an out of state move looming on the horizon, but...well...I've never been a fan of sanity. :-) At any rate, we have a dog and that dog is now nutless.
:-)

Dog

We are getting a dog...TODAY. blink. blink.

Dh has a friend at work who's deploying soon and needs someone to take his puppy. We are that someone.

Before we were married we had plans to get a dog, but like I've said a hundred times, dogs just don't fit well into the military lifestyle (as is made evident by the fashion in which we are acquiring this dog and that this is not the first of dh's friends to have this dilemma). I've also insisted that we will not get a dog until we move (when dh is no longer in the military).

What's that line about "Best laid plans?" Um...yeah.

So, as of this evening, we will have a dog. No, the kids don't know yet. We're going to surprise them. Plus, that way, if this falls through for some reason, they won't be crushed.

We're getting a dog. Pardon me while I pick my jaw up off the floor.