Re: Your Questions (about the D-O-G)

Dear Cousin Laura,

Your comment made me laugh. I'm going out on a limb by telling you that, because I'm still not completely sure you were trying to be funny. Were you seriously "seriously offended"?... Let me apologize and assure you that we didn't remember the connection with your newborn son at the time the name was suggested. In fact, I don't think it hit me until I was writing about it (in the comments). Sorry I'm so dense, and sorry for any negative association I may have introduced to your mind, but please be assured that I really like the name. I do realize that we gave our dog a human name; it's not like you named your son Fido or Spot. So let it be known. Anyway, you may or may not recall that when I was polling about names for Olivia, I posted Abby as an option, but my mom said "No Way!" because that was your family's dog.

Having said all that, I'm happy and willing to change my dog's name for your sake. In fact, I've thought of other names that I might like better. My husband and kids might continue to call him Jack, but I might start calling him Jasper or Tickle. (Tickle, because I love Junie B.)


Dear Gerb (and other Inquiring Minds who want to know),

Yes. I. Am. Crazy. Let me tell you how we came to have a dog.

Once upon a time, there was a little girl named Rebecca. She was about 5 or 6 years old. She really wanted a puppy. So did her siblings. Her parents considered the possibility. They took Rebecca and her siblings to see a cute litter of puppies. They bought a dog house. They got all ready. And then they went back to pick up their puppy, and something went terribly wrong. No puppy came home. The dog house disappeared.

(Are you crying yet?)

Years passed. Little Rebecca had a couple of incidents with scary dogs. She developed a fear of dogs that became somewhat paralyzing. But she still liked puppies. When Rebecca was 14 years old, her parents consented, once again, to get a family dog. They all went to see the puppies. They were cute. This time, a puppy did come home. He was cute for about 3 days. Then he started doubling in size daily, and also in energy, and he liked to chew on things (including ankles). After a couple of months, Rebecca and the rest of her family decided that they were not dog people. They found a nice home for that puppy, with an older couple who had just lost their beloved pet. Rebecca's puppy went home with this nice couple and promptly bit the hand that now fed him, which required several stitches to heal.

True story. (P.S. It's about me.)

By the time I got married, Doug and I happily agreed that we had no need or desire for pets.

Then we had children.

And those children seemed to be born with a crazy love of animals.

For more than 10 years, we have engaged in the Great Pet Debate. We tried goldfish--no fun, messy bowls, what's the point? We tried a cat--which nearly drove me to the asylum. After one weekend with that creature, it went back to the shelter and to its inevitable doom.
Doug tried birds. He didn't even ask my opinion before he pulled that one. Three unfortunate m birds later, the cage finally found a new home.

Once again, this family had sworn off pets.

But the pleading, begging, campaigning, and praying of the children was incessant.

I stood firm. "If you want a pet, you can wait until you have your own house, and then you can get whatever you want." "Just think of Grandma's pets as your pets." "Play with the neighbors' pets. That's fun, right?"

More pleading. More bargaining. More cajoling. Researching and arming themselves with information.

"I do not want a dog in the house, and our back yard is too small/not fenced/too rainy."

The begging continued.

Then, we moved. And Doug and I knew that we were losing our footing. At least, we lost some of our excuses. We now have a fenced backyard that is big enough for a dog to play in. We have an extra garage where the dog can stay at night or in bad weather. We've seen that the animal love which our children have doesn't seem to fade. We watched Emily spend Spring Break playing with and "training" Grandma's dog. We saw the girls brainstorm and create and deliver flyers around the neighborhood, offering their pet-sitting services.

One evening, I came home from running some errands, and the girls enthusiastically told me that Doug had made a deal with them: something about doing really well in school and earning the privilege of owning a dog.

We were caving. Doug and I had come to believe that we would get a dog for our kids, maybe next summer. I did not want to go through the puppy stage, however. They are the cutest kind of dogs, but way too much work.

Half a block from Doug's office is the local animal shelter. The girls started visiting the shelter with Doug, on occasion. I had no desire to visit that place. The smells? The germs? Ew!

Then one Saturday, Doug and I got up early and went to the temple. On our way home, I told Doug, "Hey, today is seven-eleven." (the date) And he joked, "Good things are waiting for you?" (like the jingle). And then he got pulled over for speeding. But that's another story.

We came home and the girls wanted Doug to take them to the shelter. It turned out that everyone was going, except me. They invited me to come, and I agreed, because after all, Saturday is a good day to be together as a family. The shelter was surprisingly clean. Yes, there were smells, but it was much more inviting than the shelter where we got that dumb cat, years ago.

The girls looked at the noisy dogs in the cages, and I talked to the shelter employees. They told me about a certain dog that had just become available for adoption, and how he was everyone's favorite. We met Jack (who at the time was nameless).

We took him on a leash outside. Jack seemed very sweet. He didn't scare me, and that was a big deal. He wasn't mangy. He didn't bark. He didn't mind when Olivia smacked his nose. That was a really big deal.

As we walked him around the parking lot, we met a man who was about to leave the shelter. (Turns out he was looking for a lost cat.) He was getting into his car, when he saw Jack. This man stopped, came over to us, and asked if we were adopting that dog. We told him we were thinking about it. He went on about how Jack's breed is so obedient, so loyal, so fun with kids, so smart. He was a really friendly guy,and I trusted him. For some unexplainable reason, I trusted Jack.

While the girls played with Jack inside the shelter, Doug and I watched them through the window and talked it over. I could tell he was going for it. It all depended on me.

Frankly, I was tired of fighting the issue. And we agreed that we thought our kids would do well to have a chance with a pet of their own. I knew I would never get to the point of wanting to own a dog. But I wanted my kids to have that life experience. And I guessed I was as ready as I ever would be.

So, we wrote a check, signed the papers, and left with Jack in the back of the van with us.

Surprise! We got a dog.

And, surprise! I don't mind him all that much...So far. :)

When Pigs Fly...

...Jack will be sure to alert us! This dog who is usually so quiet was going nuts over this phenomenon this morning.

Now I know that the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade would not be a good place to take him.

Or maybe he just has strong feelings about Bank of A.F.?...

Lazy Days

When school let out for the summer, we sat down as a family and created summer job lists. We do this every summer, and the list doesn't change much from year to year. There's the obvious: make your bed, be sure your room is clean, etc. There's the extra: This year, the extra job varies by the day, but it's usually something like fold & put away a basket of laundry, or do some dusting, or even, entertain Olivia for 30 minutes. And there must be some summer studying: reading is required, math is necessary, and sometimes a little writing assignment.

As I told the girls, none of their summer jobs are very difficult or lengthy. If they would get up in the morning and get going, and stay focused, they could still have most of the day to play.

It sounds so easy, in theory.

But in practice, it turns into this redundant routine: Sleep in late, lounge around in pj's, push sisters' buttons, push mother's buttons, ignore mom nagging the girls to get their work done. Eat dinner. Go to bed. Repeat.

So by halfway through the summer, I'm resigned to chill out as the task master. Frankly, I'm happy if they get dressed and get outside. It's better than having them inside, lazing around in their pajamas most of the day. My nagging about summer jobs is only half-hearted. Discipline is out the door.

Sometimes I think summer really should be more of a vacation. I just want to play.

Today was the perfect combination of great weather and laid back mom for Lauren to do this:

Lauren's happy, I'm happy...the whole darn neighborhood is happy!

Ca-Ching!

It's a BOY!

I know I've said I wouldn't go there. The girls have been wanting one for so long, but I just wasn't ready. Somehow, they finally talked Doug and me into it. Hopefully, this will be a really good thing for them.

Now he needs a name. We've discussed:





Cowboy


Scooter


Rudy


Jack


Archie





...plus a few other unmentionable names that Doug suggested under his breath, but I'm pretty sure he was kidding.





What do you think?

He's ticklish.

He seems like a good boy so far, but really, what do I know?

Senses of Summer

Last evening I was driving around with the car windows open, and thinking about all the ways summer makes me feel good.

Tastes:

Our garden is producing such yummy things. I've only had two grape tomatoes ripen so far, but soon I'll be eating my garden tomatoes like candy. I'm loving the peas and green beans and squash and cucumbers, too. I love picking food in my garden, washing it off, and popping it in my mouth.

Hamburgers. Or anything on the BBQ. And everything that goes along with that.

Popsicles and ice cream. (I like them best when they're melty.)

Fruit: Watermelon. Any melon. Cherries. Strawberries, Raspberries, Blueberries. I still remember the first time I ate fresh blueberries. When I was seventeen and we moved from California to Pennsylvania, I spent the night at a new friend's house, and her mom served fresh blueberries on our cereal in the morning. I'd never heard of such a thing! Bananas on cereal-- of course! Strawberries on cereal--a treat! Fresh peaches on cereal--makes my mouth water! (Can't wait for our two trees full of peaches this summer!) But fresh blueberries (the size of grapes)? I was hooked.

Sights:

Sunshine!

Swimming suits and tanned skin. Sun-bleached hair.

Bicycles, balls, and kids in the streets.

American flags.

Sounds:

Rainbird sprinklers as I go to sleep at night.

Real birds chirping to wake me up in the morning.

Touch:

Warm (even sweaty) skin.

Grass under bare feet.

Toes wiggling in the freedom of flip flops.

Warm evening breezes.

Cool water refreshing sun-heated bodies.

Smells:

Tomato plants.

Cut grass.

Hay. (I actually like some of those farm smells.)

Sunscreen.

So much of my nostalgia is linked to this state where I currently reside. Part of every summer of my childhood was spent here, visiting relatives. Even the 12-hour drive to and from our annual vacation is now a good memory. (Have you seen the picture book called "The Relatives Came" by Cynthia Rylant and Stephen Gammel? You should. It's one of my favorites.)

Last night as I drove, and recognized the perfect combination of summer elements, I remembered a summer night when I was a teenager. I was sitting on my Grandma's front porch swing with her and my cousin, Chad. (I really wish I had a porch big enough for a swing like that today!) My cousin, Troy, drove up in is sporty car. Chad said, "Troy's been out fishin'." It took me a minute to get what he meant by that. Anyway, we hopped in Troy's car (I'm pretty sure Grandma stayed home on the swing) and they took me to Pace's Drive-In for french fries and Pace pops.

Nothing big happened that evening. But somehow, it was just one of those moments that stayed with me and comes back to the surface of my mind whenever I experience that perfect combination of summer senses again.

Disturbing Drawing

I found this last night. I thought Lauren drew it, and I wondered, Was she mad about something, or has she just seen too many scary Michael Jackson images recently?

As it turns out, Hannah was the artist, and it's her rendition of Troy (Zac Effron), that HSM hottie.

Vanity

Click here to see what I've been staring at today.

The Queen

Hannah may be the biggest princess in the family, but I'm definitely the queen.

Today I even got a crown!

I plan to wear it all the time. Even while I sleep at night.

And it sure makes it easier to eat without pain.

Happy 4th!

Independence Day 2009

began with a neighborhood celebration.

Doug and Emily ran the mile.

Then all the girls joined the parade.

Olivia's chariot was pulled by Katelyn.

Hannah relished riding on the "royalty float".

Emily and Lauren decorated and rode their bikes.

Buy More Bisquick

I like to use Bisquick for pancakes and waffles. Sometimes I get fancy and make waffles from scratch, but only for dinner, never breakfast. And sometimes I make Krisanne's recipe for Banana Pancakes from scratch. But most days, Bisquick is good enough for me. I like it much better than the "just add water" type pancake mixes.

A few years ago, my friend Laura introduced me to another Bisquick recipe that I use all the time now: Cornbread. It's really tasty. It has replaced my old trusty cornbread recipe which I got from my mom. Now I only revert to that one when I'm out of Bisquick.

Last week, I wanted to make some blueberry muffins from scratch. I found a recipe at allrecipes.com that sounded easy enough. I hoped that they would be as good as they were easy to make, and guess what: they were! They were quite delicious, actually, and moist, which I think is crucial to a good muffin.

So here's the recipe I found at allrecipes.com:

Sour Cream Blueberry Muffins
SUBMITTED BY: Tory Ross
INGREDIENTS
2 cups biscuit/baking mix
14 tablespoons sugar, divided
2 eggs
1 cup sour cream
1 cup fresh or frozen blueberries*
DIRECTIONS
In a bowl, combine the biscuit mix and 3/4 cup sugar. In another bowl, combine the eggs and sour cream; stir into the dry ingredients just until combined. Fold in blueberries. Fill greased muffin cups three-fourths full. Sprinkle with remaining sugar.
Bake at 375 degrees F for 20-25 minutes or until a toothpick comes out clean. Cool for 5 minutes before removing from pan to a wire rack.
FOOTNOTE
If using frozen blueberries, do not thaw before adding to batter.
Rebecca's note: Why use frozen while fresh ones are in season?! Go fresh!


When I made these last week, I added a couple Tablespoons of milk to the batter (because my sour cream was pretty firm, and it needed more liquid) and I also sprinkled brown sugar on top of the muffins, rather than white. I think that was a good substitution.

Today I added a mashed banana.

These are no-fail delicious. Trust me!