Every Dog Needs Some Boys

We have been thinking about getting a dog for about three years now. There was always a reason why we shouldn’t: we had a new baby, we were moving, we had a new home. The list went on and on. 

I frequently added to it when my Facebook friends would post pictures of their muddy pups or a picture of the critter their hound killed and left on their porch.

“Yep,” I’d say, “that’s reason number 827 why WE are NOT getting a dog.”

Well, yesterday, we got a dog.

I’m not really sure how it happened. It just did. Really quickly. Really quickly after three years of talking about it and the boys begging us for one. Really quickly after two summers of the boys participating in Camp Kindness at the Humane Society. Really quickly after over two years of me writing pet articles for a local print magazine.

Really quickly after the six months’ worth of nightly searches on rescue organization’s web pages that Hubby has been doing.

Finally, after the 75^th cute dog he showed me, I said, “Email them and say we’re interested.”

Then really quickly they emailed back and wanted to know about our family and wanted references and wanted to set up a home visit. 

The first dog we looked at was taken; but they said they had another dog we could adopt. They sent her picture, and instantly I knew she was our dog the way parents know that a baby is theirs to adopt. 

The first dog was still available, but this second dog – she was the one. The home visit went well, though they didn’t bring her to the visit. The dog rescue agency had to move on, people were waiting for Hannah. Our Hannah. Our puppy.

So true to our quick decision-making reflexes, three years after talking about getting a dog, we decided to go for it. They said we can return her in 30 days if it doesn’t work out.

I think it’s already working out. 

Ashley Cox for Freedigitalphotos.com 

Click here to read eight reasons why EVERY family needs a dog. 

One Long Epic #parentingfail

Do you ever have one of those days when you feel like your entire tenure as a parent has been one big fat huge #fail? When you look back and wonder why you answered the call of the wild in the first place and decided to bring forth the fruit of your loins?

You think, Maybe if I had never given him a bite of that donut when he was 9 months old, he wouldn't have such a sweet tooth now.

Or, GAH! Maybe if I didn't yell so much, she wouldn't be snapping at her younger sister.

Or, SMH, maybe if I would have made him sleep in his bed from the beginning, he wouldn't be such a clingy little worrier.

Or maybe, just maybe, you think, If I would just keep taking my antidepressant, maybe I wouldn't yell at my kids like a crazy woman whom they will all shun one day.

Or maybe, you wake up in a perfectly great mood several days in a row, but Crabby Craberson is snapping at everyone and bringing you down. And Yelly VonYellerschnitz is driving you crazy with his stuck-on-one-decibel volume. And Pokey McOhMyGwadWhyWon'tHeHurryUp?! is threatening to push you over the brink of insanity (Or is it sanity? You don't know because YOU HAVE LOST YOUR EVER-LOVING MIND!).

And then you think, What in the hell have I created here? Because you know it is All. Your. Fault. It's always the Mom's fault. Catholic Guilt? Pfffft! That ain't got nothin' on Mom Guilt - the beast that makes us all crazy, gray-haired, wild-eyed, drooling, mental patients by the time our kids graduate from pre-school.

It convinces us we are doing it all wrong. Our kids will be screwed up for life if WE do not get OUR acts together. The hugs and kisses, the attempts at healthy home-cooked meals, the bedtime stories, volunteering as room mother - they are not enough, Woman! You must do more, you must do it better, you must do it more often. More, more, more. Better, better, better.

But you still feel it's only mess, mess, mess. And you are bitter, bitter, bitter.

Then, as if just to save your sanity, little Sweetie J. Petey comes out of nowhere and wraps his arms around your neck and says, "I luff you, Mommy," and kisses you right on your nose.

And you think, Maybe I'm not a #completefailure after all.

How to Sleep-Train A Toddler in 30 Easy Steps

I absolutely adore this little kid! He is, as the world's greatest supernanny said, "practically perfect in every way." He is sweet, loving, friendly, smart, curious, fun, happy, and gives the best hugs.

That said, he does have one flaw . . .he is a horrible sleeper.

It may have something to do with the fact that he has no idea how to self-soothe and that he thinks my nipples are his own personal sucking candies. When he wakes up and they are not there in his face, he has no idea what to do, but cry (I'm sorry ladies, but does this not sound like a typical man or what?).

Anyway, as he is almost 19 months old, and the quality of my own sleep has been so poor for the last, oh, 28 months, I think it's time to lay down the law and do some sleep training. So I present to you, my 30-step plan for sleep training my toddler:

1. Put him to sleep at his normal bedtime, via the normal routine (rocking and nursing - hey, if he's all cozy and satisfied, maybe he will stay asleep all night this time).

2. Go about my normal routine, which involves getting into bed at about 2:00 a.m.

3. Get all snuggled up in bed, wiggling and tossing and turning until my body is right in that comfortable groove in my bed.

4. Drift off and just barely enter REM.

5. Is that a baby crying? Hmmm . . .a baby is crying. I wonder where it is.

6. Get kicked in the shin by Hubby, "The baby is crying."

7. Unwrap from warm cocoon and prepare to get out of bed as Hubby says, "Just let him cry."

8. Cover back up and stare at the ceiling, listening to baby cry.

9. Twenty minutes later, lay fuming as Hubby is solidly snoring away and baby is now yelling, "Mommy! Moooooommmmmmy!"

10. Uncover again, get out of bed, and close door to bedroom so Hubby doesn't hear. 

11. Close all bedroom doors so no other little children wake up.

12. Stand with hand on door handle to baby's room, willing baby to stop crying.

13. After almost falling asleep standing up, decide it would be best to lay in hallway and listen to baby cry. Maybe being so close to the door, I will absorb all the sound and no one else will hear.

14. Start drifting off, only to be awakened by a shooting pain in my hip from laying on the floor.

15. Realize baby is now all out sobbing.

16. Think, screw it, and go in his room.

17. Have every intention of just shushing him, giving him a pat, and leaving, but instead, melt and give in when he smiles, reaches his arms out and says, "Mommy!"

18. Pick him up and sink into his tight little hug and toddler sweetness.

19. Stand with him, swaying back and forth until his little head drops on my shoulder.

20. Convinced he is asleep, gently lay him back down in his crib.

21. Yell, "CRAP!" and run out of the room when he immediately pops back up.

22. Go back down the hall, close the door, get back in bed and cover head with several blankets and pillows.

23. Realize I can still hear baby yelling, "MOMMY!!"

24. Hear 9 year old in the hall, and realize baby is in danger of waking everyone up.

25. Throw off covers, sighing audibly.

26. Meet 9 year old in hall, who says, "Mom, the baby wants you."

27. Curse fertile uterus.

28. Completely give in by picking toddler up, getting comfy in rocking chair, and nursing him until he's sound asleep, and I have a cramp in my butt.

29. Resign myself to this routine until baby is in kindergarten, I have enough money to hire the baby whisperer, I make the cover of Time Magazine baby's ear infection is all cleared up.

30. Put baby down, sound asleep, and creep out of room as sun is rising while thinking to myself, He's only little for a short time. Who cares? Not me. Not really.



Do you struggle with any poor sleepers at your house? What is your plan for fixing it?

Simply Having a Wonderful Christmas

It was Christmas Eve. The eleventh hour. And I was still scrambling to get everything done.

Presents wrapped, house cleaned, food made.

We were hosting Christmas this year for my side of the family. Hubby kept reminding me that it was just family. Just 18 people.

Who were family, by the way, so why did it matter what the house looked like? There would be enough food, and everyone would have a wonderful time, he kept assuring me.

I knew this. I knew it. But Christmas always stresses me out, almost to the point that I dread it. With the snowstorm on Thursday and the boys being off school, there were a few things I didn't get done - namely, getting Hubby's special gluten-free cookies. Which makes me feel really awful since he always makes Christmas special for me (he actually did all the shopping for the boys this year!).

And I forgot to get the ingredients to make cinnamon rolls for Christmas morning. I always make cinnamon rolls.

I'd been snapping at the boys. Making demands. Pick this up! Clean this mess! Put this away! Everyone has to help!

I was feeling horrible. Why do I get so stressed? Why do I wait until the last minute to get everything finished? What makes me forget so many of our special things?

What's wrong with me?

The boys were invited over to their cousins' house to play Christmas Eve morning. I think it was to keep all the boys occupied so my sister-in-law and I both could finish Christmas preparations. I planted myself in the basement with my wrapping supplies, and I wrapped like a mad woman.

I was listening to Pandora, and for some reason, there was a heavy volume of children's songs being played. Each time I heard their sweet little voices singing carols, my eyes welled with tears.

It made me think of Joey.

But I pressed on and kept wrapping, thinking to myself how lucky it was that I had told the boys that elves are messy creatures. And how lucky it was that my boys wouldn't care about bows or ribbons.

I was all done by 11:30 that evening, and morning came quickly, before 7:00 a.m.

6:50, actually, and it was all said and done by 7:06 a.m.

The boys tore open each present in a matter of seconds with shouts of, "COOL!" "IT'S JUST WHAT I WANTED!" quickly moving on to the next gift.

And as I sat on the couch, still in a sleepy haze contemplating coffee or tea, I realized that no one had expressed disappointment. No one had simply said, "Oh," and moved on.

In fact, I heard seven-year-old Knox exclaim, "This has been the best Christmas ever!"

We had celebrated with Hubby's side of the family on Sunday. Hubby's huge, chaotic, loud, wonderful family which is now made up of 57 people! All but eight were there.

This isn't even half of his family. There are more somewhere!!

I have always wanted to be a part of a big family. The dynamics among the cousins and in-laws are warm and sweet and sometimes simply hilarious. It's truly a gift that everyone gets along so well. And even though I sit and observe the chaos with no gift in hand (Hubby opts us out of the gift exchange, and I am no one's godmother), I never feel left out. But rather, blessed.

And then there was that moment yesterday, as I was standing in the kitchen. I was still dressed up from Christmas mass - heels and a pencil skirt and a cute peplum top. I had my apron on and Hubby was next to me chopping onions for soup. The boys were playing with their new toys in the family room and someone yelled into the kitchen, "Mom, what's 8 times 8?"

As I answered quickly and kept stirring whatever it was I was stirring, I felt a wave of gratitude and happiness wash over me.

For this.

This is what I had always wanted in my life - this "kiss-your-frog-marry-your-prince-and-live-happily-ever-after" life.

I have it. Standing all dressed up in my kitchen with an apron on making Christmas food for my family while my children play. This.

However, this life may not be perfect because we are grieving the loss of someone.

This Christmas may not be perfect because Mommy kept forgetting to move the elf and she forgot the cookies and the cinnamon rolls and wrapped the presents hastily and snapped at people.

But no one really noticed that except for me. So it didn't really matter after all.

And Slim has made sure that Joey has been with us all Christmas season. He brought Joey's beloved stuffed animal, Stripey Kitten, downstairs to "help" us decorate the tree Thanksgiving weekend. And even though I keep telling him to put her back, he keeps bringing her out every time we do something Christmassy. So I know he's thinking of Joey, too, and giving us a little reminder of his presence.

So in the end, I didn't really screw anything up too badly - not that anyone noticed anyway. My small family all said they had a lovely time celebrating at our house, and there was even food left over.

 Hmm, maybe if I'm still hungry, I can lick
some of the frosting off that adorable face.

It's clear to me as I sit and reflect on how the holiday went for us all, despite my perceived failures and foibles, it was a pretty great Christmas after all. I think it's safe to say that everyone had a simply wonderful Christmas.

I know I did.



8 Ways I'm Dealing with Parenting Stress

I wrote in my last post about starting each day with new, fresh eyes and a happy heart. The sun will rise and that stuff.

Yeah, didn't work so great for me yesterday.

It doesn't help that I really hate Mondays. For me, instead of being a time to start fresh and begin a new week, they always seem to be packed with things I forgot I had to do until an e-mail, a bing-bong on my phone, or an actual live person reminded me.

Yesterday was no different. I had promised to work the book fair at school for two hours, and I still have no babysitter, so I had to ask my parents to watch Baby E and Lil' C.

I had to call the orthodontist because one of Slim's spacers fell out already. Then, while I was at school, I had to run down to his classroom to look and see which one it was, then call the orthodontist back to make the appointment that he had to have THAT DAY so it could be replaced.

I had to go to Knox's classroom to tell his teacher to tell him that he had Cub Scouts after school because that had slipped my mind until I read a reminder e-mail.

I had to pick Lil' C and Slim up early from school to take Slim to his appointment, and I had just enough time to stop at the store for Baby E's special milk and one needed ingredient for dinner before I had to pick up Knox from Cub Scouts.

Typical day for most moms, right?

But there was still the behavior I had to deal with. The boy who told Grandma that he didn't like her. The boy who wouldn't wear the Cub Scout shirt I brought up especially for him. The fighting over who would get to play a game on my phone in the car. The boy who wandered off three times during the ten minute grocery store trip. The backpacks and shoes and coats all over the laundry room floor for the gazillionth time this school year. The fighting, the talking back, the disrespect.

I. Had. Had. Enough!

I suppose it also didn't help that a little monthly visitor had also arrived that day, but I lost it. I yelled and screamed and told the boys under no uncertain terms was I doing anything for anyone anymore. By the time I was done with my tirade, the two older boys were in tears, and the younger ones were avoiding me.

Oh, this is not the mom I want to be. This is not the mom I want my boys to have. I felt like things were spiralling out of control and the pressure was building and building and building until the lid blew right off the boiling pot.

I could have handled it better. I should have handled it better.

Hubby would say, "Coulda, shoulda . . . now what are you going to do about it?"

Good question. I've been thinking a lot about that today, and I've thought of some ways I can deal with my parenting stress:

1. Don't sweat the small stuff. Also called, pick your battles. One forgotten paper, misplaced shoe, spilled drink is not the end of the world. It happens. I need to take a deep breath and remember we've been through much worse.

2. Put more energy into the big stuff. I have not been consistent enough with some of the life lessons I want my boys to learn, like consistently following the same routines about chores, rewards, consequences, prayer, thankfulness, service to others, respect, patience, kindness, tolerance. I need to think about what I want them to learn, and rather than continuously harping, I need to model the behavior.

3. Do my screaming and yelling in private. I always tell my boys that feelings are okay. You have a right to your feelings. But your responsibility lies in what you do with those feelings. It's okay for me to be mad and frustrated - holy hell, please tell me we all get this way, right? But it's my responsibility not to verbally abuse my children. If I feel like screaming and yelling, I can go in my room or my bathroom, shut the door, and have a good scream or cuss session. Done. Let's move on.

4. Vent to friends. I have some amazing friends, and by now I know exactly which ones I can say which things to. It's like eating my favorite chocolate or drinking my favorite wine. It's a comfortable treat that makes me feel better when I'm done.

5. Have something for myself. I love being a mom - I really, really do. But the trap I fall into is when that's ALL I do. It puts too much pressure on me to define myself only in that way. Since I've been writing, I realize that I have something else I can contribute to those outside my family. And I earn praise for being something other than a mom. I earn praise for being me.

6. Savour my downtime. I have two hours to myself in the afternoon. I am usually running around like a chicken with my head cut off trying to get as much done as possible. When 3:00 rolls around and I didn't get as much done as I wanted, I beat myself up about it. I can't do that. I need set realistic expectations for myself. I also need to realize that after everyone goes to bed, it's okay for me to watch t.v. and read blogs - I deserve it. It's not okay for me to stay up late and be crabby the next day though.

7. Rely on Hubby and let him rely on me. This is finally something we're getting better at. I'm not talking about the division of child-rearing chores. We've always done that. I mean when I've had a bad day, he can step in and be the yang to my yin and vice-versa. Previously, if he was in a bad mood, I would be, too. If I was yelling at everyone, so was he. Now we both realize that if we are feeling that way, it's because we've had a long day or we're stressed or we are sick, and the other person needs to step up and be the voice of calm. Hubby did that for me last night, and it helped calm me down, too.

8. Relieve stress in a non-destructive way. Can anyone say binge eating?? I can. It usually involves some sort of carbs or eating ice cream right out of the container. Vacuuming, jumping jacks, yoga stretches, running up and down the stairs can all produce the same result (except around my waistline). I need to care for myself in order to care for my children.

I am so not a perfect mom or woman or person. I make mistakes. But luckily my children are young enough that I can correct those mistakes. If I can do better at "dealing," I think that's half the battle in reducing the stress in the first place.


What strategies do you have for dealing with stress in your daily life as a parent?

It's Not Enough, SeaWorld

So, I've been waiting to write this post about SeaWorld San Diego for three weeks now. I've been waiting to hear back from SeaWorld San Diego about an incident that happened to my family there - at SeaWorld San Diego.

And I've finally heard back from SeaWorld San Diego about the incident that happened there - at SeaWorld San Diego. So now I'm going to tell you about what happened at SeaWorld San Diego and how I feel about it.

(I am not nuts. I'm just trying to put "SeaWorld San Diego" in this post as many times as I can so it will get picked up by search engines. So people will read this and it will somehow affect SeaWorld San Diego in the hopes that they will actually do something about "the situation" <--- Oh, and no, not the Jersey Shore Situation. Wrong SEO. I'm totally getting off track here....)

Anyway . . .so my family took a much needed vacation to San Diego a few weeks ago. We had a really nice time. We stayed at a nice resort where the boys could play in the sand near the water, we went to Coronado Beach (gorgeous beach, quaint and darling town), and went to LegoLand (we LOVED LegoLand, so perfect for our kids' ages as they are obsessed with Legos right now and the rides were just their size).

And of course we went to SeaWorld San Diego.

We had gone to SeaWorld Orlando on our Make-A-Wish trip with Joey. We thought it was okay (probably just the circumstance under which we were there). Since Slim is also obsessed with sharks and other underwater creatures, SeaWorld San Diego was a must.

We were impressed with many aspects of our visit. The park was immaculately clean, the shows were darling, and every single employee - from clerks to custodians to guest relations - was beyond friendly, helpful, and smiling. Hubby and I kept commenting to each other all day about this.

The day after we were at SeaWorld San Diego, PETA was to be protesting there about the treatment of its killer whales. From what I understand, this is not the first time SeaWorld has come under criticism.

Of course, every bit of evidence we saw was to the contrary - happy, loving trainers and workers reminding visitors to be careful with the animals and smiling even as kids (mine) interrupted their prepared speeches about the animals.

We became aware that a television crew was on site filming a commercial for SeaWorld. In general, I found these people to be a little blunt, cold, and almost annoyed by the presence of visitors. One sign in the turtle house read, "Television filming in progress. If you don't want to be on camera, then stay out!" Or, seriously, something to that effect. So we stayed away. I didn't want my kids to get yelled at or anything.

So, later, we were walking by another location where filming was taking place. It was off to the side and gated. As we were walking, Slim was slightly behind us, walking in his Slim way, looking at the ground not paying attention at all.

I saw a woman sitting in a director's chair pointing at him and talking to the man next to her. I kept looking at her to see what she might be talking about.

And then "the incident" occured.

Slim wandered aimlessly in the direction of the gated off area. A SeaWorld employee, who obviously drew the short straw and was assigned to be the minion protecting the gate of hell, quickly steered him away.

Without missing a beat, Slim changed direction and followed us. No harm, no foul. Right?

Wrong. Not according to the director chair bitch who is probably related to some other bitch who has been in the news lately.

This woman, who had been pointing at Slim, then took her fingers, shaped them into a gun, and pantomimed shooting Slim!

I am shaking again, even as I write this.

I mean WHAT. THE. FUCK??? (And you should know people, I hardly ever drop the F-bomb. This is how upset I still am about this.)

The child did absolutely nothing wrong. This is my child who IS likely to bust in somewhere and interrupt; but he didn't even do that, so WHAT ON EARTH was this woman thinking??

I was livid, and stunned. I stood there and stared at her, and she stared back at me with a smirk on her face. I did the only thing I could think to do at the time - I flipped her off and kept walking, hugging Slim to me  (thank God neither he nor the other boys had seen what she'd done).

I was shaking as I told Hubby about it moments later - I wish he had seen because he would have yelled at her all of the things I then thought about yelling, two minutes too late.

In this day and age of social media, he suggested going back and taking her picture and putting it all over YouTube and Twitter and my blog. I was too chicken of a confrontation, though. I am so not a confrontational person. Plus, I didn't want to get us kicked out of the park.

And let me tell you, it absolutely RUINED the rest of my day. I couldn't stop shaking and thinking about it.

Of course I filled out an incident report at Guest Services and went home with plans of writing about it and submitting it all over the web (if only I had the bitch's picture!).

But, I waited to see what SeaWorld's response would be.

After all, SeaWorld is obviously a family friendly place. They want families there, so to allow a person from a company hired by SeaWorld to do this, is unfathomable.

Right?

Three weeks later, I got a short letter as a response:

Dear Ms. Frog:

Thank you for your correspondence. We greatly appreciate you sharing your concerns with us. I am terribly sorry for your experience during your recent visit to our park. We agree; the action you described by a member of the production crew is unacceptable. We are following up with the agency that coordinated and oversaw this commercial filming production as this type of behavior will not be tolerated.

Again, I want to genuinely apologize for the behavior of the member of the production crew and express how sorry we are that it detracted from your family's experience while visiting the park.

Sincerely,
Dave Koontz
SeaWorld San Diego

Well played, Dave Koontz's administrative assistant. This is exactly what a mom would want to hear.

However, for me, it is not enough. I am a mom, darn it. I want to know how this production company was punished, not that they got a "talking to." I want to know that you stood up for a family at your park and fired this company for not adhering to your family values.

Do you think I'll ever hear back from Mr. Koontz about the final outcome?

No, I don't either.

Some people might say, 'Oh, Kathy, just let it go. That's just how the world is.' But I don't want to let it go, nor do I want to simply accept that people are just rude. I, for one, am tired of rude people. I don't accept that it is okay to be rude to someone just because you do not know them, so what does it matter?

Well, it matters. It matters how you treat people, especially children. Especially in this gun-crazed, psycho pedophile, terrorist-laden society - yes, it matters.

We cannot let rudeness and ugliness become standard behavior just because that is what most people are doing. What happened to smiles and kindness? What happened to helping and caring for all people? What happened to acceptance and understanding?

I could have been one of those people who took this to the media. I'm sure they would have jumped on this story given the problems SeaWorld was experiencing that week. But that's not what I wanted. I wanted to know what would be done.

And I'm still asking, what is going to be done? That behavior is offensive and scary and stupid, and the fact that an adult did it toward a child who was doing nothing wrong is even more disturbing. It shouldn't be allowed to continue, and it should be known that it will not be tolerated. After all, it is California. Production companies must be a dime a dozen. I just want to know that SeaWorld is spending its dime on a different production company.

The woman who did this will never get punished, but I want her to know that her actions lost her company a job. I want people to know that their actions do have consequences, because, after all, isn't that what we're all trying to teach our children?

I think I'll keep Mr. Koontz's name on file and follow up with him in a few weeks. I think he thought he heard the last of this when he asked his AA to draft a letter to this crazy mom.

But I'm not done because it's not enough.


What do you think I should do? Just drop it and accept the apology, or follow up and find out what happened to the production company?