Entries from May 2008

A Few Egg Shells Won’t Kill Ya…

May 31, 2008 · 3 Comments

The Big One received this really cool little contraption for her birthday a few weeks ago. PhotobucketThe Learning Tower is touted as being sturdy with a non-tip construction that is safe for toddlers and young children.

Essentially it brings little kids up to countertop height so they can help make wonderful creations in the kitchen. Well, I am sure it has other uses, but we use it in the kitchen because the Big One loves to help me “make somefing.”

So today I had the unpleasant task of bringing home my precious Maxwell puppy dog’s remains from the Vet’s office. Apparently while I was gone, the Big One was harassing the Husband to make something in the kitchen. He told her to wait until I got home and then promised I would make something with her.

We happened to go to Smart & Final today and picked up the industrial size Heath Toffee Bits because the Husband loves anything with Heath bars in it. So we opted for cookies using chocolate chips and the Heath bits.

Typically the Big One and I make pancakes, waffles or, our specialty, chocolate marbled banana bread; all of which do not require anything other than a whisk or wodden spoon. We’ve only done cookies a couple times and this was the first time using my uber-cool Kitchen Aid mixer. Normally I just use the hand mixer because it’s a lot easier to clean. I figured it’s silly to have the big Kitchen Aid and not use it so I dusted it off and started the process.

I quickly learned why I have never done cookies using the Kitchen Aid with the Big One as my assistant. First thing to go awry was the attempt to pour the sugars in the bowl. {I don’t have the handy little chute-like thing to add ingredients. It was a casualty of one of our last 4 moves in the last 5 years.} About 1/3 of the sugar went on the counter. No big deal I scoop it up and dump it in the bowl anyway.

Then comes the eggs. Normally when we make pancakes or waffles, the Big One cracks the egg open and then hands it to me to actually break apart and add to the bowl. For whatever reason today she cracked it and then dropped it in the bowl… while the paddle was whirring around. I calmly turned the mixer off and began to fish out the shattered egg shell, while explaining why it’s not so good to drop the entire egg in the bowl.

Meanwhile she is whining that she wants to add the other egg. Not this time, I tell her.

Figuring the cookies might not be a total loss, we continue the process. She measured the first cup of flour out and most of it went in the bowl. The second cup didn’t quite make it all in the bowl. But I figured we were far enough in the process we were going to press on and hope for the best.

Next came the chocolate chips and Heath bits. The Heath bits all made it in the bowl and most of the chocolate chips did too. My problem now is that her attention span had run its course and all she wants to do it eat the chocolate chips.

After several bites and pleas of “just one more mommy,” I finally got some in the oven, 10 minutes later, the Husband deemed them a success. I just hope nobody chokes on the egg shells.

Categories: The Big One · Uncategorized
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No Thongs in This House

May 28, 2008 · 3 Comments

The potty training thing is at the forefront in our house. There is a lot of talk of pee, poop, flushing, cleaning our butts, washing our hands and eating blue M&M’s {the reward of choice.}

This morning we’ve had two successes and it’s only 9:30 a.m. The Big One has peed and pooped in the potty. She has only pooped on the potty one other time so, yes this is monumental!

We are on our second pair of panties already. But it’s not because of an accident. But rather because her potty was still a bit damp after the pee clean-up, when the Big One picked up the potty with the same hand that was clutching her favorite blue Dora panties. As a result, the panties got wet.

So she and I headed upstairs to choose another pair of panties. She selected another pair of Dora panties. Dora is wearing a blue shirt on these {yes, there must be blue somewhere on the panties or she will not wear them}. This pack of panties is more like briefs, while the first blue panties that got wet are more like bikinis.

As she is pulling up these brief-like panties, she just about gave herself a wedgie because she was concerned with full coverage; She wanted to assure that her bottom was covered, while at the same time assuring that the panties were pulled up past her belly button.

As I helped with the proper adjustment of the panties, it hit me, this kid will not be wearing any thongs. She will be a granny-panty kid, which is just fine with me and the Husband.

Categories: Potty Training · The Big One · Uncategorized
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The Why Button

May 28, 2008 · 3 Comments

When the Big One turned 3 last week, I thought {foolishly} that we had somehow escaped the “why” phase. You see, the Big One never really cared about the “why” of things. She instead was fixated on “What’s dat?” Everywhere we would go she would ask what it was that she was looking at. Even if she knew that it was a bird or a truck or a flower or Target, she would ask, “Mommy, what’s dat?”

Suddenly when she turned 3 years old and 5 days, someone pushed her “why” button and now it won’t stop. We have suffered through most other “terrible-two’s” I really was hopeful that the “why” thing would just skip over this house.

No such luck. I am such that yesterday alone, I heard “why” at least 432 times. It didn’t matter if she knew what the answer was or if there really was no answer, she continued to press on with her questions.

This problem has been around for all the ages. Anyone have any fantastically brilliant retorts? I have tried, “well, why do you think…” She just says “I don’t know” and moves on to another round.

Why, oh why, oh why……

Categories: The Big One · Uncategorized
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Gravity and the Kitchen Floor

May 27, 2008 · 3 Comments

The Little One has discovered the great joy of gravity. She’s known about it for a while, but it seems to have hit its peak in our house. Any time she is “uppy” she wants to play gravity. You know the game, clutch on to something for dear life, drop it on the floor, giggle, and then laugh hysterically as someone retrieves it for her. Repeat over and over and over again.

She loves to drop her “bear bears” from her crib. {On a side note, if you have a spare one of these bears,Photobucket please contact me!} But, her all-time favorite game is to drop things from her highchair. By things, I mean spoons, cups, Cheerios, puffs and any other food pieces that she is supposed to be eating.

She is the second child, so I am very familiar with the game. I will usually retrieve her sippy cup or spoon a maximum of three times before I tell her it’s “all gone.” She doesn’t seem to mind when it’s gone, as long as she can’t see it, it’s out of sight out of mind.

The challenge that I am having with this current round of gravity is the lack of my precious doggy to clean up the floor. Max was always waiting anxiously for those tiny morsels of goodness. He got crazy excited about a Cheerio, a puff, even a chunk of cheese. The Little One would get equally excited as Max jumped up to retrieve whatever it was that she dropped. Long after this mommy got tired of the gravity game, Max would willingly oblige the Little One but lapping up whatever it was that she dropped.

So now I am left to wonder, those of you who don’t have dogs, how in the world do you keep your kitchen floor clean during this phase?

Seriously I can only sweep the floor so many times in one day. Add the Big One “helping” me sweep to my challenges with keeping the floor clean and I am pretty much toast. One of the Big One’s favorite games it to swish her little broom right the middle of my neat pile of crap that I have gathered. She thinks that’s great fun. What’s a mommy to do? How do you keep your floor clean?

Categories: The Little One · Uncategorized
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The Big Questions ~ #1

May 20, 2008 · 5 Comments

Ok, so I have some questions that I need some input on. Here is the first one. How in the world do you cook turkey bacon?

Seems simple enough, but apparently not for me. The package recommended 2 minutes in the microwave. So I put four slices of the turkey bacon on my handy-dandy bacon cooker. I set the timer for 2 minutes and waited anxiously. This was the first time I have had turkey bacon, so I didn’t really know what to expect. But I guarantee that what came out of my microwave was not what turkey bacon was supposed to look like.

My bacon was black as black can be. It was fried beyond fried. So I figured okay, 2 minutes was too long. I’ll try 1 minute and 30 seconds. Once the 90 seconds was up, the bacon was definitely not cooked all the way. So being the brilliant chef that I am, I surmise that maybe 1 minute 45 seconds would do the trick.

I kid you not, after 1 minute and 45 seconds, what did I have? I had two slices that were burnt to a crisp and two slices that were still raw. How in the world is that possible?

So if you’ve got any tips or secrets for cooking turkey bacon perfectly, please leave me a comment with your ideas.

Categories: The Big Questions · Uncategorized
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Now I am Getting Mad

May 13, 2008 · 6 Comments

My sadness over my precious Max’s death is slowly being replaced with anger. I am angry at the Vet {Southern Kern Vet Clinic} who told me on Thursday afternoon that there was nothing “catastrophically wrong” with Max. If that were truly the case, then why in the hell was my dog dead within 24 hours? I am fairly certain the lymphoma and heart twice the normal size didn’t happen in 24 hours.

Why did the second Vet {Quartz Hill Vet Clinic}, who talked to us and let me sit and pet my sweet, sweet Max for as long as I wanted, point out to me that she didn’t understand why the first Vet didn’t even mention the enlarged heart to her. She felt the enlarged heart was more of an issue than the “apparent mass on his liver.” And seeing as he actually went into cardiac arrest and died I am guessing she was right.

Why won’t they let me have my dog’s X-rays? I just want to be able to show the Husband how big Max’s heart was. On a silly level, the Husband knows how big his heart was, but I want him to be able to see physically what happened to Max. My guess is that is has more to do with litigation fears than “needing them for their records.” Again, I know my dog was sick and I certainly have way too many other things to do with my time than sue a Vet for being stupid.

On a logical level, I know that my Max was sick and I know he wasn’t going to live forever. What makes me the most angry is that I wasn’t given the opportunity to prepare myself for that horrible phone call.

I truly believed that while my Max was sick, that I would be able to bring him home from the ultrasound. Yes, I knew I would maybe be bringing him home to die, but at least I could have helped the Big One say goodbye. I could have taken a couple more pictures of him with the girls so they could remember their first doggie a little bit better.

I did say goodbye on Thursday night. As I lie on the floor with him, we talked about how great a friend, companion and protector he was. I assured him that it was okay to leave us if he had to. I made peace with him, but had that small glimmer of hope when I saw that he had moved from one room to the other on Friday morning.

I know there are a million people out there who think, “it’s just a dog.” But to me Max was so, so much more.

On a side note, I am totally screwed if the five steps of grief really are:

  • Denial
  • Anger
  • Bargaining
  • Depression
  • Acceptance

And I am only on anger. UGH! Crap, it’s going to be a long few weeks or moths.

Categories: Max · Uncategorized
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A Sad, Sad, Sad Day! ~ My Max is Gone

May 9, 2008 · 8 Comments

I miss you and love you, puppy dog.
I honest to goodness cannot remember when I felt so ill, heartbroken, sad and defeated all in one day. We lost our precious dog Max ~ the best dog in the entire world~ today.

It started innocently enough on Wednesday night. He didn’t finish his dinner which was extremely unusual. Then after I got the girls to bed, Max started throwing up. After the first time, I got him outside where he threw up again.

It’s not the first time he’s gotten sick and I just figured it wouldn’t be the last either. Thursday morning I found another pile of barf on the floor and noticed he was having a hard time walking.

I knew something was wrong and debated loading everyone up and heading to San Diego so I had family back-up if Max was truly sick and needed medication or constant monitoring. I decided it was way too much work to drive three and a half hours with both kids and potentially a puking dog. So instead I went next door and blurted out to the neighbors something about needing a vet for Max.

Susan, my neighbor told me she knew of one locally and volunteered her son Eddie to go with me. {Just a side note, the Husband is out of town for 30 days for training for work.} Eddie, bless his soul agreed to go with me, not knowing what was even going on.

So we took Max {we equals me, the Big One, the Little One and Eddie carrying the 70-pound terrier}. We were quite the sight bombarding the Vet’s office. {Southern Kern Vet Clinic} We decide they will do some X-rays and blood work to try and figure out what was going on. It was obvious to everyone that my sweet, sweet Max was not feeling well.

After an agonizing four hours, I called the Vet for the verdict. He told me there was “nothing catastrophically wrong” with Max. His white blood cell counts were high, his liver enzymes were high and it looked as if there was a mass on his liver. He recommended bringing Max home with some antibiotics and see if he just had a weird infection. If in the morning he wasn’t well, the Vet recommended either sedating Max and getting another X-ray or doing an ultra sound to determine the problems.

On Thursday night, Max was immobile. He wouldn’t move from the spot he was in. I stayed with him until about 11 p.m. and then went up top bed. I slept off an on and finally came down at 5 a.m. to check on him. He was in the exact same spot I had left him in. I patted him, told him I loved him and left him alone. When I came back downstairs at 7 a.m. Max was in the play room. I had left him in the living room. There was a small glimmer of hope that he was feeling better.

Then I saw it. There was a trail of black sludgy poop from the living room to the play room, but at least I knew he could walk. I called the Vet and told them I wanted an ultrasound. My fabulous friend, Karen, pointed out that what would probably happen if we did the X-ray was that it would be inconclusive and we’d have to do the ultrasound anyway. She was right.

I went next door to summon Eddie again and beg him to come with me. My 70-pound lump of love was too much for me to handle with both kids. He graciously agreed, canceling an appointment he had.

We ended up having to wait at the Vet {Quartz Hill Vet Clinic} for an hour just to drop him off. Apparently everybody else’s dog got sick today too.

They explained that they would be starting the procedure in about 30 minutes and that it would take about 30 minutes to do the procedure. I assumed they would call me in about an hour or so.

My sister and mom made the drive up and had just gotten to the house when I noticed it had been almost two hours since we left him. I told them what was happening and then I said it had been two hours so I knew something was wrong. They tried to assure me that the Vet’s office was just running late or dealing with some other issues and not to worry. Not 10 minutes later, the phone rang.

I could tell immediately from the Vet’s tone that something terrible had happened. She was very hesitant and then finally said, “we lost him.”

I screamed and collapsed on the ground in tears which of course set my mom off and freaked the Big One out. She was very concerned and I was trying to be a good mom and not freak her out more. But I failed miserably. Max was my first baby. I had had him for 10 years.

At some point my sister took the phone and spoke to the Vet while I tried unsuccessfully to control my emotions.

After an hour or so, I was ready to go say good-bye. My sister drove me while my mom watched the girls. It was so heartbreaking to see my Max lying there. He looked very peaceful and calm. But he was gone and I am just so, so, so sad.

Apparently after the ultrasound was completed, he started throwing up and then according to the vet, he just “stopped.” Everything stopped. He went into cardiac arrest. She said they got his heart re-started two times, but just couldn’t get him back.

The ultrasound points to lymphoma. His heart, liver, kidneys and lymph nodes were all enlarged. That coupled with the elevated white blood cells indicate cancer. We saw the x-rays and were astonished at how big his heart was.

Well, I wasn’t really all that surprised he was the sweetest, most wonderful dog in the world. I love you Max. And miss you terribly.I miss you and love you, puppy dog.

This was out Christmas 2006 picture. You can’t see the Little One because she was in my tummy. :-)

Categories: Max
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Where Does it Go?

May 8, 2008 · 3 Comments

As I was laying in bed last night listening to the Little One cry, while anticipating when/if the dog was going to puke again I had an hilariously funny, fabulously entertaining post in my head. I wrote almost the whole thing out in my brain and then I somehow drifted off to sleepy land, where apparently the best posts go to die.

Note to self: You really need to put the paper and pen next to the bed. I’m sure it would have been a great, multiple comment-provoking blog and now it’s gone. *sigh*

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A Potty in My Kitchen

May 5, 2008 · 4 Comments

Yes, there is a potty in my kitchen. No I am not trying to be funny. It’s not a “party,” it’s definitely a potty. Trust me, potty training the Big One is not a party.

I have really tried to take a laid-back approach to the potty training thing. Everything that I have read says not to push your toddler, to let them go on the potty when they are ready. So for the most part we have left it alone. Trust me, we have tried in the past to “force” issues with the Big One and it just doesn’t work.

So recently she has been showing definite interest in going on the potty. Like I said I don’t push her, if she wants to go on the potty great. If she wants to continue on in a wet, stinky, cold diaper more power to her.

It started a couple days ago, she told me she needed to go, so we got her pants and diaper off and she took her seat on the potty in the bathroom. Now here is where we are struggling. Sometimes she pees immediately upon sitting on the potty. But most of the time she sits and sits and sits. Occasionally she groans a bit to “push the poopies out.” I’m not really sure where the groaning and grunting come into play. I have perfected the art of pooping without an audience so she didn’t get it from me. {yes, I still pee with an audience but I have figured out the timing on the solo poop.}

Anyway, after a couple minutes of sitting, she realizes that she still has her shirt on so that must be the problem. Somehow she’s decided that in order to go on the potty she needs to be completely naked. Apparently it helps to get things flowing. Well, technically she is not completely naked she is still wearing her blue socks.

So we take her shirt off and on this particular day, I tell her that I need to go start making dinner. Not wanting to be alone in the bathroom on the potty, she stands up, picks up the potty and follows me into the kitchen.

She says she needs to “see mommy and <Little One>” while she tries to go potty. So there we were, Little One in her high chair, me cooking dinner, and the Big One sitting with her blue socks on in the middle of my kitchen.

By now she’s been on the potty for close to an hour {yes, you read that right}. When Suddenly Big One jumps up yelling triumphantly, “I peed… I peed… I peed.” So I stopped the dinner prep to high-five and jump excitedly with the Big One as we celebrated the pee in my kitchen.

Unfortunately I think we have set a precedent. Big One has been carrying the potty with her from room to room to room since that one day. She apparently doesn’t want to miss the opportunity to pee in the potty. I’m sure the “experts” will say that we are somehow scaring her for life by letting her walk around naked, carrying the potty for hours, but I don’t know what else to do. I certainly don’t want to squelch her excitement about going on the potty

Categories: Potty Training · Uncategorized
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Eradicating Enemy Number One

May 3, 2008 · 1 Comment

Today is the big day. I am done. I can’t take it any longer. It has to stop. So today we are on a search and destroy mission in my house. No pacifier is safe today. We will find each and every one of them and they will be destroyed.

What brought along such a violent approach? Three nights in a row of be startled awake by the blood curdling screams from the Big One when she couldn’t locate the dreaded paci.

The Big One will be 3 years old in two weeks, it is high time to get rid of the dumb thing. We’ve tried in the past and somehow she always gets another one. We’ve tried cutting the tips off of them so they are “broken.” We’ve tried the “Big girls don’t need pacis” approach. We’ve tried the “sending them to the babies” approach. Somehow none of them have worked.

The Big One has discovered one in the bottom of my purse. She has found several in my car {they must be like rabbits with the way they multiply}. She has even gone so far as to steal them from the Little One.

So tonight we are going paci free. The Little One is getting dragged into this battle now so that I don’t have to re-live it in another year. Yes, I will also be taking them away from the Little One too. I figure if one of them is going to scream all night, might as well add the other to the mix. If you’ve got any tips to make the transition easier, please send them my way.

The biggest challenge with tonight’s cold turkey mission is that it will coincide with another life-changing event for the Big One. The parental unit is on their way to our house as I type with the “big girl” bed. Yes, we are combining two life altering moments tonight. We will be going paci-free in a brand new twin bed.

I know the psychologists reading this {you know you are out there} are cringing and shaking your heads at me. I know it’s a mistake to combine two “life-changing” events at the same time. Trust me, it’s not the first time I’ve screwed up with the Big One. And I can guarantee that it won’t be the last. Hey! Maybe I’ll go for the triple threat and put her in panties and throw the diapers away tonight too.

C’mon you didn’t think I was serious did you. I’m not a total moron. I am after all the one who would have to clean the sheets in the middle of the night when she peed all over the brand new bed.

Categories: The Big One · The Little One · Uncategorized
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