Wonderful Lazy Tuesday

I spent the day at home, accomplishing just enough work to say that I did something, but mainly resting. Our Nanny came and took ChellBell swimming, and the house was very quiet most of the day. It was interesting to see what our house must be like while we are at work.

The Big Dog slept all day except when his senses told him that there might just be a squirrel in the yard, and then he would get up, lumber around to the closest window, and begin barking loudly at the squirrel (or the yard if there was no squirrel) just to make everyone knew that a Big Dog was waiting inside.

The Little Dog is a cat-napper. He sleeps for just a short bit and then walks around looking for someone to give him attention, either trying to pick a fight with the Big Dog (just to have someone to play with), or coming over to see if I would scratch his ears. Then he'd lay down for another 15 minutes and start his little social parade all over again. I am convinced that this is where the shoe chewing and bad behavior must take place when I'm gone -- it cures his boredom.

Interesting that both dogs will snap out of the deepest sleep when the refrigerator door is opened. I know people say that dogs have a keen sense of smell, but my dogs have bionic ears. No bag of chips or pantry door can be opened without the dogs waking up and racing downstairs to beg for a treat.

Chris and ChellBell are back home, dinner dishes need to be washed, the TV is on, the dogs are no longer tired (on account of them sleeping all day). The phone is starting to ring, and there is no more quiet in this house.

Ah, but it was nice while it lasted.

Back to work tomorrow...

One Lucky Girl

Before Saint Patrick's special day is officially over, I wanted to pay tribute the only true Irish member of our family.  With two redheads, you would think it would be either me or ChellBell, but it's...

Duffy, the Irish Wolfhound.  The Big Dog.  He's such a great dog -- just a HUGE, furry, shedding lump of love.  He doesn't get too much spotlight on Pop Rocks for Breakfast, because his little friend -- Benny, the Little Dog -- is always making a meal of something interesting. like double-A batteries or shoes.  But Duffy is just dog-perfection.  Seriously.  I'm a lucky girl to have such a great dog.

I'm also a lucky girl to have great blogging friends like Kasey over at All That is Good.  Do you have a bloggy-friend where it's just a treat every single time you visit their posts?  Where you just feel at home, like you could prop your feet up on her coffee table, and she would comment on how great your shoes are?  Well, that's Kasey!  You must get to know her if you haven't been lucky enough to do so already.  And she was sweet enough to give me this award:

Now I have to tell you 10 things about myself (as if talking about Granny Panties in yesterday's post wasn't enough) and then pass the award on.  So here it goes...

1. My Dad was in the Air Force for 26 years, and we moved around a lot.  I lived in Hawaii twice and graduated High School in Japan. 

2. I have always looked really young, which I hated during the growing-up years.  Now I absolutely love it -- in fact, if someone doesn't guess me for at least 5 years younger than my 38 years, I get kind of offended!

3. My husband and I met at Baylor and were really good friends but never dated there (we were "stand by" dates for each other in case we couldn't find a "real" date).  In fact, we realized that we were "meant" for each other before we ever officially dated.  

4. I don't like white food.  Particularly white, dairy-based food like milk, sour cream, cottage cheese, whipped cream, cheesecake, cream cheese... you get the idea.  But I will eat bleu cheese dressing (see, Kasey, you're not the only one!).  I'm sort of strange like that.

5. I have 3 Webkinz and my own account, so ChellBell and I can play each other.  

6. Unfortunately, I work way too much but have a great job finding work for people in the IT field.  It's all I've ever done, and it's pretty rewarding!

7. My Mom is an excellent party-thrower, and I got the bug from her.  I like to have the same parties year after year -- making them each a tradition -- like our Dads & Daughters Breakfast, the Photo Safari, Easter Egg Hunt, and the Christmas Pajama Exchange.

8. I absolutely love to sing and have enjoyed singing with a great group of girls from the Dallas Junior League for the past 6 years.  I am that crazy girl who is always singing in the car.  My neighbors will pull up next to me at a stoplight and wave, but I'm too busy singing to notice.

9. I also put my makeup on in my car.  Sometimes while I'm singing.  I keep a Trish McEvoy planner in my car and do my makeup en route.  When we're entertaining at home, I have to run out to my car to get my makeup!  

10.  I am completely illiterate when it comes to sports.  I cheered in high school but still know nothing more than how to spell defense and that a basket in basketball equals 2 points.  

...Whew! More than you'd ever want to know about me!

So now I get to pass the award on, and the lucky winners are:

Rose at Prose from Rose -- Rose just celebrated her 40th birthday in style.  I am enjoying getting to know her through her blog and can't wait to learn more!

Renee at The Sturgill Road -- Renee is a fun Mom, and it's been great to get to know her family through her posts and pictures!

Christie at Favorite Things -- Christie is superwoman.  She manages her household and family (oh, you should see these cute kids!) while her husband travels and has an un-ending sense of humor about life!

Keri at Doing Life -- I have known Keri for 33 years, and everyone should have the privilege of knowing her.  She is an amazing writer, and just an amazing girl!

Becca at The Texas Darlings -- Becca is like my sister, and while her life has changed dramatically in the past 12 months, her love of life and creativity haven't changed at all! 

Lost

My friend Becca will read that and think about her favorite TV show.

My Mom will read it and think about people who need Jesus.

Chris will read it and think about the Baylor-OU football game.

Lost can mean a lot of different things.

But this morning it meant our dogs.

It all started with a way-too-quiet morning. Do you ever just get used to the normal "noise" of your house, and then suddenly panic when you realize that it is too quiet? A quiet ChellBell or a quiet dog in our house means someone is up to no good. And it was too quiet in our yard this morning.

On account of the iron gate being wide open. And the dogs not being in the yard anymore.

Our house backs up to a greenbelt, which backs up to a park. And with the unusual quiet having lasted for maybe 10 minutes (we figured that out once we figured out that it was too quiet), there was no telling where big tweedle dee and little tweedle dum had ventured off to.

Maybe the dogs weren't lost. They weren't looking for home, worried about where they were (although I can just hear the big dog say, "we're going to get in trouble", and the little dog respond, "come on, live a little!"). They were just out roaming.

Maybe it was the dog owners who were lost. Without a clue of where to start. On foot or in car? East or West? Park or Neighborhood? Clueless and Lost. Sad and Worried. Did I mention that neither dog had a collar on?

I'm happy to say that after sweet prayers from ChellBell and a 20 minute drive, Chris came home with both dogs who were one block away, together, sitting on the sidewalk. Perhaps waiting for the school bus or simply resting from their big adventure.

And now the house is back to being full of barking and growling and dog noise that we just ignore. But wouldn't wish away. (even the little dog!)

When God closes a door, He opens a Window... Chris does the same thing.

We've been having some issues with the door that goes to the back yard. Not actually the door, just the doorknob. So being the Handy Mandy that I am, I went to Lowe's and bought a new handle and lock set. To my surprise, I successfully changed the lock on the back door. But when it came to the handle... well, that was a different story.

The point is that we've had the new knob/handle to install, but I couldn't figure it out, and the old one has mostly done its job, so no new doorknob.

Chris got up at 6 AM with the dogs this morning and found himself unable to get out the door to the back yard. The knob will turn, but the little latchy-thing doesn't budge at all. So, being half asleep and surrounded by yelpy dogs, he picked up the little dog and ordered the big dog to follow and traipsed through the front yard, around the side of the house, and through the back yard gate.

Did I mention he was just wearing underwear?

So I get a call from my sweet husband at work today, who says in his studly-man-of-the-house voice, "Well, I fixed the door problem..." Which surprised me, because he'd had a miserably busy day, and I was amazed that he'd found time to fix it or call someone to come out to the house.

And then he continued, "When you get home tonight, just open the window by the kitchen table and let the dogs climb out." (Like some kind of new -- HUGE -- doggy door. And oh, yippee, it's 35 degrees outside!) And if that isn't bad enough, he adds, "The little dog got it the first try, but I had to show the big dog how to do it a few times before he would jump out."

Unfortunately, I do not have any footage of Chris demonstrating the Doggy Door -- um, window -- but I do have a clip of the poor, confused dogs, just wanting to come in the back door.

PS. I found Christmas stockings for the dogs this weekend at Old Navy. The red one says "Naughty" and the green one says "Nice". Perfect!

Hot Diggity Dog!

Isn't it always the bad kids who get the attention? It may not be the good kind of attention, but it's attention nonetheless. Children who behave badly get reprimanded and lectured and grounded and participate in endless discussions about conduct and carrying the family name. The good child needs none of this, so the good child gets none of this. And often is overlooked.

I am guilty of this behavior. Not with my child. With my dogs. I have a blog full of pictures of the little dog and excerpt after excerpt of his wildly horrid behavior. But not a single picture of the big dog, the good dog, who needs no lectures on carrying the family name (or eating make-up or digging holes to China in the family room floor, which still has yet to be fixed, by the way).

So here is the big dog. He is a good, gentle, loving, lazy dog. Thumps his tail when you talk to him. Loves to be loved. Can walk outside without a leash and won't even chase a rabbit if he has been told to "sit". He essentially obeys better than our child does. He's the perfect dog because he wouldn't hurt a fly, and yet, because of his sheer size and big bark, grown men have trembled when meeting him for the first time. And we introduce him to every solicitor who comes by the house.

The only thing the big dog has done wrong was last Thanksgiving. And he really can't be blamed... His head rests so nicely on the kitchen island, which is where the Thanksgiving Turkey was sitting atop the Williams-Sonoma platter.

He just couldn't wait for a bite of the orange and rosemary stuffed bird (at least a little nibble on the drumstick), so he pulled that platter a little bit closer in his direction, until all of a sudden "CRASH!" Turkey and platter broken and mingled all over the kitchen floor.

All in the room panicked, except for me. Not liking turkey of any kind, I was happy to see the dog enjoying a meal on Thanksgiving Day. He deserves it after eating Purina ProPlan night after night.

So there's the big dog. He may not get a lot of notoriety, but he does get lots of hugs and love and Beggin' Strips for being such a good boy!

Rise and Shine!

Mornings are hard at our house. Honestly, we have not a single person who enjoys the morning living under our roof. But it keeps coming (thankfully, I suppose), and 5 days a week it looks like this: 6 AM the little dog barks because he's awake and needs to pee. 6:01 AM the big dog barks because it's not fair if the little dog gets attention if he doesn't get in on it too. 6:05 I act like I'm dead asleep, and Chris mutters that he's going to give the dogs back. 6:15 both dogs are howling and I yell at the dogs that I'm sleeping and that they need to hold it. 6:17 both dogs make it known that it is time to start the day and that if I don't do it now, my day will start with cleaning up a big mess on the carpet. So I get up. And Chris pretends that he is dead asleep. ChellBell sleeps through it all. Give her a year -- then I'll give her the "big girl responsibility of taking care of the dogs, because you are so grown up now."

Around 7 AM, it's time for ChellBell to get up. She pretends to be dead asleep, but bribing her with Pop Rocks will get her to jump out of bed and get dressed in no time. (Really Moms, you should try this!)

Not being fond of Pop Rocks myself, I have been on a mission to find something to bribe myself with in the mornings. Well, friends, I am excited to tell you that I have found it. I found the CHI. The CHI flat iron. The promise of starting the day with straight, silky hair with very little effort. How has my world of big, humid, high-maintenace hair existed without the CHI for this long? This is a Nobel-peace prize contender. I can honestly say that since my discovery, it has been like Christmas morning, and there is a little spring in my step at 6 AM as the little dog starts to bark...