Guest Blogger: Moose

So Little C was not a happy camper tonight. It seems that he felt that he wasn't getting equal treatment when it came to the sleeping arrangements. You see, Big C earned the right to "camp" on the three season porch with a sleeping bag. Little C neither earned nor deserved this privilege. So as I sat holding the hand of a crying boy and explaining that fair does not mean equal, he maneuvered for some special treatment.

Little C: "Can I at least sleep in the top bunk?"

Dad: "Sure."

Little C (with pillow clutched firmly in his grasp as he climbs up): "Can you hand up my blanket?"

Dad: "Sure."

Little C: "Now, can you get me a Latte?"

Dad: "Excuse me?"

Little C (now smiling from ear to ear): "or an RB? That stands for 'Root Beer' in case you don't know."

Dad: "I know what it stands for and 'no' you can't have one."

Later:

Dad: "Honey, have you been singing 'Taylor the Latte Boy' on your way home from school again?"

pleasing find

I am no fashion blogger...but I have to share this! Alex Carleton has reworked the LL Bean aesthetic with an updated and fashionable twist. The new LL Bean Signature collection is just stunning. And if they hold true to Bean's quality standards...they could just give J Crew a run for their money. (What with J Crew's "standards" of late being SUCH a disappointment.)

The number of pieces offered is still limited, but the collection is classic and timeless. Check it out:

http://www.llbean.com/llbeansignature/llb/shop/8

not your mother's granny

Last night we were at a local arcade/ bumper car/ mini golf/ laser tag/ batting cage/ jumpy hut place. Yes, it is pretty much kiddie-meth.

It was a well-behaved crowd. Watching the pre-teen girls parade around was amusing until their mothers arrived to join the parade. I am now concerned that the recent popularity of the MILF will, through the generation they are raising, soon make way for the GILF.

ouch

Another mom and I were in tears today in the hallway at school at the end of the day. It started out like this:

Tall Mama: (rather chipper) Hi there! How is everything going with you guys?

And then it went downhill quickly.

Alpha Mama: (bursts into tears) Oh, Tall Mama. I am just trying to figure out the best way to help Miss M through some Mean Girl stuff at school.

Tall Mama: Oh no. I am so sorry. Miss M is so sweet. (Tall Mama starts crying too.) I worry about that, I know my daughter will not fit in with that Middle School vibe.

(The short conversation carried on with some sniffling and some vague question and answer. And then she said something that wrenched my guts.)

Tall Mama: A friend once said, "You don't know the meaning of the word MEAN until you see your eleven year old daughter treated badly by her peers. I never thought it was possible to hate a child, but I have learned otherwise."

I don't want to learn that lesson.

And I don't want Miss M to learn it either.

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They work like this: just sprinkle these non-toxic and non-digestible granules into your pet's food. Then when it is time to do the dirty work, just put on your Poop Goggles.

(A middle-aged man standing next to his sports car) "Oh my! I can actually SEE every poop in my yard! It makes it so easy to find and pick up." (He takes the goggles on and off a few times.) "How do they do that?!"

We'll tell you how, Bob. These specially treated lenses here filter out most wavelengths but through a patent-pending polarization process they allow the non-toxic non-digestible granules to show up brighter than anything around them.

(An elderly woman with six cats crawling on her lap) "I don't have to wonder any more if it's time to clean the litterbox. With these Poop Goggles I can see every little poo and keep the box cleaner for my babies. I can't do that with my regular glasses." (She holds up a cracked pair of very thick glasses.)

Dog poop, cat poop, even hedgehog poop...The Poop Goggles system works for them all!

(A woman, late 30's, sits on her couch in a very filthy living room while her son and dog run all around the room chasing each other, son is wearing Poop Goggles) "What I like best about them is the filter." (She puts on her Poop Goggles.) "It makes having Murphy much more pleasant. I can't smell a thing! I sure wish I had these when Murphy was a puppy! They would have paid for themselves when compared to the cost of replacing all those slippers. And shoes. And rugs." (The camera pans the room...then a Poop Goggle lens is held in front of it. A dozen spots start to glow around the room.)

If you call in the next 60 minutes and mention this ad, we will double your supply of non-toxic non-digestible granules for FREE! That's right, we said FREE! But only if you call in the next 60 minutes. Operators are standing by.

(A young couple are out in their yard with a very small Toy Poodle. Their 4 year old is playing nearby on the swing set. She is wearing a bike helmet, Poop Goggles, knee and elbow pads, and is streaked with sunscreen.) (Mother) "Poop Goggles have given Bella her life back! Before, the yard was just too unsanitary to let her play in it. (Bella takes a tumble off the end of the slide. The mother pokes the father and points at the little girl. He puts on his Poop Goggles, grabs a jug of hand sanitizer, and runs over to clean off the child's hands. Meanwhile, the dog has pooped behind the mother and is eating its own feces. The mother yells...) "Is she ok?" (The father gives her the thumbs up. The mother picks up the poodle.) "Like I was saying, Poop Goggles has made all of our lives better!" (The dog is kissing her face.)

Quantities are limited! Act now! Don't Delay! Order your Poop Goggles today!

(Only 2 easy payments of $19.95. Not available outside the continental Unites States. While the granules are non-toxic, they are not intended for human consumption.)

Here's the Scoop

Because it is Springtime in this Three Dog Yard I have spent the better part of a sunny afternoon scooping up just a fraction of a winter's worth of poop. To keep myself from running away from home with a flask of gin in my fist, I distracted myself from the overwhelmingly disgusting chore by dreaming up a few task-related business ideas.

First Up: Environmental Dung Beetle Emporium

If I can acquire a mating pair I already have enough "food source" for them to create a multitude of offspring. Then I can sell them to people for keeping their yards poop-free. I will even teach them how to best utilize their new beetles at my "suburban training center."

because I like symmetry

Tonight in the car I patiently explained to the kids why gracious manners and being aware of those around you is important. Punctuating a brief silence Little C said, "Thank you for sharing that information with me mommy." After we got home, the cygnets were genuinely sweet and kind to each other and very helpful around the house.

So to counter balance my less-than-exemplary-parenting-rant previously posted, I would like to offer up a few of the things I think I am doing right in the form of some phrases commonly used at our house:

"People interact with the world the way they feel about themselves."

"Finding things to feel grumpy about is a bad habit just like finding things to be happy about is a good habit."

"Trouble is trouble but lying is double."

"What did you do that contributed to the problem?"

"What can you do to contribute to the solution?"

"That uncomfortable feeling in your chest is supposed to happen. It is a good thing because it means you recognize your mistake. It is called sorry. When you apologize we will both feel better."

"When you make excuses for your mistakes you are not learning from them."

"May I have a turn when you are done please?"

"Tell me all about your day."

"Tell me something you did that made you feel proud today." (Insert any one of a multitude of positive words.)

"What did you do that made the world a little bit better today?"

"Let's go build a nest." (Which means we make a huge pile of blankets on my bed and cuddle up in the middle of it.)

"I love you." (You cannot overdo this one.)

ethical question

Is there a point in parenting when shame and anger are appropriate teaching tools? I don't mean on a daily basis, or as a first line of defense. I mean, is there an infraction serious enough to warrant loosing your cool and dropping both the f-word and the sh-word on your child?

Could that point be, perhaps, when one finds a sizable fecal smear on the wall in the hall?

Please say yes.

Welcome Honky!

Someday, I'd like to live in your world. The one where no one drives in front of you. The world where lines only ever form behind you. Because, I gotta tell you, I am kind of getting tired of being patient. Leaving my house early enough to get where I am going at the appointed time is sort of grating on my nerves. You probably don't understand that, never having experienced it yourself.

How frustrating it must have been for you this morning to have woken up in this world. Frightening, even. I can only imagine how irritating you must find it to have to stop at those red octagons and have minivans driving safely in front of you. You poor, poor thing.

Some advice: yelling and waving your hands might not be the best coping strategy for handling this new, and hopefully temporary, stress of driving on streets that don't automatically empty when you roll through. I could not hear you. Your voice does not project directly into my head in this universe so I was struggling with following your pantomimed directions. May I suggest setting down the phone and breathing? Perhaps some herbal tea. That giant, convenience store coffee is not going to help.

I have to say, I admire your boldness. If I woke up in a parallel universe, drinking crappy coffee, where things did not just fall in place for me I don't know if I would be strong enough to get out of bed. The confusion and unfamiliarity with ease would be too much for me.

May I offer some advice? You know, just to help you get through until you get whisked back into your own dimension.

Stop at red things.

You can go as fast as the car in front of you and no faster.

I have never known honking to produce the desired effect (did you notice me slow down?) so lay off the beeper.

Take turns.

Be nice.

I suggest starting there. Wouldn't want to overwhelm you on your first day in town. I suspect we'll meet up again later at the bank or maybe even at the grocery store. Take it easy with that cart. Let's say we review your progress then and see if we can't find a way to help you get home again.

Until then...good luck!

-Alpha

From Bad to Worse

Olly has been, overall, a pretty great dog. He does Regular Bad Dog stuff on occasion. But today he took it up a notch. He did some Worse Dog stuff. And then he tried to drag it in the house.

Can you even imagine the JOY in this dog's life? He was doing that four-footed dig. Jumping and playing in the mud. Enjoying Spring and all the fun it brings. I would have smiled and photographed the frolic if I hadn't just spent the morning cleaning my house.

Here is how I recommend handling this sort of mess.

1. Fill a large, shallow container with hot, soapy water. The kind for storing sweaters under the bed works well.

2. Take that container outside your door. Bring along a towel. Perhaps a washcloth as well, depending on the size of the dog and the % of his surface area covered in mud.

3. Wash one pair of paws at a time. Keep a good grip, or you just have to start over again.

4. Dry as much as you can and then banish the dog to an acceptable space inside to finish drying.

5. I almost forgot! Take photos. You might need them for evidence some day. You know, in case it eventually goes from Worse to Worst. Then you can pull them out when people ask where that big, crazy dog went. You won't have to say a word.

I don't have the answer

Big C: hey, mom?

Alpha: yah babe?

Big C: if they can make hand sanitizer that kills 99.9% of germs...how hard can it be to just make it .1% stronger to kill them all?

frozen assets

Cold hands I can understand. Cold feet, while unpleasant, at least make sense to me from a logical standpoint. But my bumper???!!

I thought fat was supposed to have this fantastic insulating property. At least that's what the saleslady told me. Especially in the quantity found on my ass! I paid extra for that increased r-value.

I just don't understand how I can be pitting out a t-shirt at one end and have a surface temperature of 42 degrees at the other.

You'll just have to read it!

Dear Diary,

I know, I know. It's been a few days since I wrote. Sorry about that. I was waiting for just the right thing to tell you about. I could tell you were getting bored with the usual funny kid/smart kid stories. The corners of your pages curled last time I mentioned the weather. But I have a good one for you today! And every word of it is true.

I hope you'll find it was worth the wait.

I hardly know where to begin. For starters, I am glad I finally went in for a massage yesterday. Remind me to schedule something with Nicole again in a couple of weeks. She has some mad skillz, that Nicole. SO great, in fact, that I was still feeling the effects of it this morning when I went to Physical Therapy. The range of motion on that left hip has improved but the muscle spasms are waking me up at night again. Libby was patient, as usual, and found a few more things for me to try.

But those are not the reasons I am writing today.

When I got home I went to the basement to work on the laundry before getting a little work done and then heading out for a lunch date. You know that inversion table down there? Well, I had shifted it over a bit to get something past it and thought to myself, "Hey, now might be a good time to hang upside down by my ankles, stretch out my spine a bit since my muscles are mostly relaxed right now." I was wrong.

See, when I moved it over I had inadvertently positioned it right under the clothes line that runs across the room. I never even checked the clearance. Hanging upside down felt really good at first but it quickly turned to PANIC when I tried to flip rightside up. The ankle contraption got caught on the clothes line!

I was, quite literally, strung up by my ankles. I was home alone...for the next 5-6 hours...and seriously stuck. The 20 minutes felt like hours, but here is how it played out:

Minutes 1-5

Alternated between screaming for help and trying to calm down. I was thrashing a bit. Swearing a lot.

Minutes 6-10

Spent the time going through all of the scenarios of what happens if I can't get down. Keep in mind this started at 10:10 am. No one would worry about me until almost 3:00 when I was late picking up Miss M. She would eventually reach Moose who would go get her and then the boys and then come home. He would worry. He would call many, many times. I would hear the phone but not be able to answer it. Best case scenario I would be rescued by 4:00. Also, by then I would most certainly have peed my pants. The thought of being water-boarded with urine ran through my brain. I truly began to panic.

Minute 11

Without regard for what would happen next, I pulled and twisted and yoinked out one foot! It was throbbing and bruised but free! Hooray! I mean, SHIT! I was now dangling by one foot. That other foot was not budging. My shirt was falling over my face and I let it fall and yawlped my most Barbaric Yawlp and threw it across the room. It didn't help.

Minutes 12-16

Similar to the first five minutes. I calmed down, I panicked, I calmed down. My foot and leg were killing me. I pressed off the floor with my arms until they could no longer take it. Then I hung from my foot some more. Thought about burst vessels and red eyeballs and realized I would have to get out of this alone.

Minutes 17-18

Did the most intense sit-up of my life and grabbed at Miss M's ballet tights that were drying on the line. Knocked off 4 pair, but managed to grab the last one. Those tights were going to save me! I channeled MacGyver and tied them in a knot. Pulling them to the side and down. Nothing. Tried harder. They ripped! I pictured what Moose and the kids would find when they got home. Me. Dangling by one foot, blood pooled in my now-damaged brain, topless.

Minute 19

An intensity of panic I have never experienced.

Minute 20

I struggled some more. I wondered if I could cling to one side and tip the whole thing the other way. Was I willing to take a possible compound fracture of the ankle? Not if I could help it. I ignored the pain in my foot and ripped it out of the damn ankle vice. I could have lifted a car at that point. But I was not thinking very clearly. And gravity was still working against me. I crashed to the floor in a heap and hyperventilated on the floor. I clung to that cold floor like I had been clinging to driftwood in the ocean, surrounded by sharks, and finally washed up on dry land. Or like I had been lost in the desert and finally found an oasis that was not a mirage. (Fill in more cliches at a later time.)

Aftermath

I caught my breath and cried and cried. Slowly standing, I limped upstairs and called Moose and then cried some more. Then I threw up. And now, every muscle in my body hurts. My eyeball is a bit twitchy. I have a killer headache. My feet are bruised and swollen.

And I may never be able to do laundry again. Ahhhh...the silver lining!

As always, Alpha

{I challenge you...no, I DARE you...to come up with as many similes as you can that relate to my biggest near-disaster to date. I would love to read them! Please post in the comments.}