I call them puppies, but that may not be the correct term anymore. Abby has reached her full height, but as boxers tend to do, won’t reach her full growth for another year or so. I believe it takes boxers about 2 to 3 years to gain their full muscle mass. And she’s already pretty strong! Mason…sweet…sweet…HUGE, Mason. He’s definitely over a year old, but I don’t know that he has reached his full height. Since we don’t know exactly what breed he is (other than his mom was full boxer), we really don’t have anyway to gauge how big he will get. At this point we’re thinking moose, or maybe pony, and sometimes I wonder if he’s part deer. He is at least twice as big as Abby. In length and height. We have the biggest crate that Remington makes, and when he lays down and is sleeping, his poor little face is pushed against the door. Zale may have to custom build something for him. Seriously.

With our new furniture (best Dad ever got us new living room furniture for Christmas, since Mason had eaten the couch) the dogs haven’t been allowed to get on it like they could the old. I know, I know, it’s not fair. But they have very nice dog beds in front of the fireplace, as well as their crates (that are in the living room, ugly, but it is what it is). What we did discover, is that if we leave our bedroom door open during the day, (and I cover the comforter with another blanket) our bed becomes their bed, and they are perfectly content. I know, it doesn’t seem right that we’ll let them on our bed, but not our couches….the bed is older and we don’t really like it anyway. Make better sense now?

So, yesterday, after I got off the phone with a very good friend of mine, Mason was acting extra needy. I loved on him, petted him, but he kept wanting more. And he stuck by my side, literally leaning up against my leg and staying right by me wherever I went. It dawned on me that Abby wasn’t coming to get some lovin too. And this little girl can sense when he is getting petted. No matter where she is in the house, no matter how quiet we are, she knows and she will come running to get her share of affection. So I start calling for her and asking the girls if they know where she is. I began to think that maybe I had absentmindedly left her in the back yard when I let Mason in, but she wasn’t in the back yard either. So then I start to panic, say a prayer that she hasn’t gotten out, and go to grab my shoes to look outside. But then I notice that Mason is going into our bedroom and coming back out to me, over and over. It hits me, she’s gotten in our bathroom and can’t get back out. Sure enough, there she was. Not sure if she went to lay on the vent, or to try to drink out of the toilet, but the door had closed behind her and she couldn’t get out. She was very happy to be found, her little bottom just a wigglin’. And I think Mason was happy to get his companion back!

You know, I tell people that we “rescued” them through Middle Tennessee Boxer Rescue. But that’s really not accurate. MTBR rescued them, we had the pleasure of adopting them. And they are wonderful additions to our family!

My awesome Dad has always been great about father/daughter date nights. I remember many from childhood, and they always made me feel very grown up and important. (Not that I need help feeling grown up now….) I’m thankful, that even though many years have passed, we still do things together, just the two of us. And a big thank you to my wonderful husband for understanding and being so willing to take his girls out while I get a break!

Last weekend, William Shatner was doing his new stand up act, “It’s my world, you just live in it”, at TPAC in Nashville. We’ve always been Shatner fans (comes with being Trekkies) and even saw him a couple of years ago when the Star Trek convention was in Nashville. So here we go, a VERY nice dinner at the Capitol Grille and then the show.

Dad and I are probably funny to watch. Because it doesn’t take much to amuse us.  Here’s a good example, the Capitol Grille is in the Hermitage Hotel. A beautiful, 102 year old building that was redone in ’03. And the restaurant is famous for the mens bathroom. What a claim to fame, right? It’s all black and green marble. How do I know this? Because Dad made sure I saw it, he MAY have even threatened to throw me in if I didn’t go willingly. Thankfully, we were there early enough that the restaurant wasn’t packed yet, so I went in a few steps to see what the fuss was about. Then quickly made my way to the ladies room to compare. (Can you believe I’m blogging about bathrooms??? Me either!) The ladies room was lovely, but no black marble.

Dinner was wonderful, we ate quail for the first time and had a yummy steak. Our server was a gentleman named Ian, from Bath, England. I loved his accent and he’s only been in the states for a couple of years, only in Nashville for 4 weeks. He was very charming and just added a little something to the whole dining experience.

On our very short walk from the Grille to TPAC, it’s just a block away, we noticed cars being plucked up by tow trucks left and right. Three within the time it took us to walk one block. I guess during an event they make sure parking rules are met. We realized we were gawking, so we pulled ourselves together and went in to the show. As we sat down (wonderful seats, I might add) we discovered another father/daughter date going on beside us. The father was my age, and his daughter 11, but looked about 16, much to her father’s dismay! Dad could easily relate with that. I always looked older than I was and would have servers ask if I wanted anything from the bar when I was as young as 15. Dad and I shared a few stories  and encouraged them both to keep up the father/daughter tradition.

After the show, we walked back to the hotel to get the car, and I ran back inside to use the ladies room before making the drive home. As I’m walking to the restroom, I hear a guy who sounded about my age, maybe younger, say “Yeah, the ladies room is nice, but nothing like the men’s room!”. I had to chuckle, because he had obviously checked it out to know. So I didn’t feel as bad going in the men’s room.

Anyway, another wonderful night out with Dad. I am so thankful for those times and am already looking forward to the next one! By the way, to all the fathers out there with daughters, take them out! Show them how their future husband should treat them. Open doors for them, make them feel special, pay attention during your conversation, it will go a long way! For your own relationship with them, as well as teaching them what to look for later in life.

Yesterday Zale came home early with the intention of mowing. I’m sitting in the kitchen, thinking that I need to make dinner and give the girls a bath (even though it’s only 4:00) when there was a knock at the door.  I go to answer it and my eyes are immediately drawn to the gun and badge on the gentleman’s belt that has just knocked on our door. With Zale being an attorney, it could be anything, a visit about a client or who knows what.  And we’re a gun friendly home so that part wasn’t a big deal. But you know how you can be driving along, and notice a cop driving behind you, and instantly you feel guilty, even if you’re not doing anything wrong? Yeah, that might have happened to me  for a split second while I’m taking in the gun and badge, and asking, “May I help you?” He says, “Hi, is Zale here?” My reply was, “Sure, can I tell him who’s here?” Now, let me just say that the badges and credentials that  they show on TV are a little different than real life. So I didn’t have a clue which division of law enforcement he was from. But I sure didn’t expect what happened next. He said “I’m a friend of Zale’s from way back, but I’m in the FBI now, so can we have a little fun and you just tell him that the FBI is here for him?” My response, “Sure!! Hang on, I’ll go get him.” Now I was 95% sure this guy was telling me the truth, but just in case, I left him on the porch while I went to get Zale.

Zale was in the bathroom changing to go mow, I knock on the door (barely able to hide the grin in my voice) and say, “Babe, the FBI is here for you.”. His reply? “Tell them I’m not here”. Now, in his defense, he totally thought I was messing with him, but the weather has been so nice that the windows were up and I was a little worried the FBI guy could hear what we were saying. So I said, “I can’t tell him that, I already told him you were here.” No response. I go back into the kitchen figuring he’s right behind me. A few minutes later, FBI guy still on the porch, and Zale still hasn’t come out. So I go back and knock on the bathroom door and say “Are you coming?”. He says, “You were Serious??!!”.  I say “Well Yeah!”.

So Zale finally comes out and I point to the porch, where he has the nice surprise of seeing a friend that he hasn’t seen in many years, and I had the quick relief that everything was ok, and the complete joy of pulling one over on Zale.  It doesn’t happen very often, I promise you. And we have a great story that will last for a very long time! Awesome afternoon!

Mason, our boxer mix puppy (about 60 pounds of puppy and still growing, but a puppy), recently decided to take it upon himself to try to eat our leather couch. This couch is one that Zale custom ordered before we got together. Now, Mason has eaten things before that we weren’t thrilled about. But this was the first thing that was REALLY expensive. So, it became obvious that when we’re not at home, he can no longer be left out.

Mason’s destruction

With Abby, we learned long ago, to clear off the table and make sure there wasn’t anything of interest on the counters. And a little corner bookshelf that is filled with my Bible study books and journals that I’ve been keeping since March, was relocated to our bedroom after Mason and Abby ate Zale’s Bible handbook that he had since he was a teenager. They have eaten and destroyed curtains, blinds, several of the girls flip flops, dolls, even taking dishes out of the sink and things off of the top of the microwave (Mason, of course, Abby can’t reach them) to eat/destroy them. Countless items, not to mention trying to destroy each other (with Abby usually the instigator, just like a girl, right?).

We bought an extra large crate when we got Abby, and attempted to crate train her. But she had such horrible fear and anxiety, that she did better being left out in the house. We actually had less of a mess to clean up when we got home. And for a long time, they did quite well together being left out while we were gone. But after the couch incident, it was time for the crate to come back into the house, this time for Mason.

We put the crate in the house a day or two before we knew Mason was going to have to be in it, so he could get used to being around it. He wanted nothing to do with it. Even making sure to walk a wide path around it. It was clear he had no interest and no desire to be anywhere near it. The first time we tried to put him in it, Zale and I together, couldn’t coax him in, no manner of treats, not even an almost empty jar of peanut butter tossed into the crate, not gentle leading, nothing got him in. So we both tried to force him into the crate. Not happening. It was like he grew thumbs while we were trying to get him in the crate, grabbing hold of the edge of the crate preventing us from putting him in it. We ended up taking both dogs with us that day, and Zale’s Mom was nice enough to keep them, along with our human kiddos, while we did what we needed to do that day. (Moving Zale’s law office).

The next time Mason was going to have to be crated, Zale was gone and it was up to me to get him in. Whew, what a work out. I was out of breath, panting as if I had just run a race, was bleeding, and had been peed on, but I got him in the crate. And once he was in, he just laid down at looked at me like, what? What’s the big deal?  The next time I had to get him in the crate by myself, I managed to not get injured, just peed on a little. And the last time I had to do it on my own, he was still very reluctant, but I was uninjured and thankfully, he kept the pee to himself.

This brings us to last night. Zale’s turn to get him in the crate. And wouldn’t you know, he was a little resistant at first, and then it was like something clicked for him, and he just walked right in. Zale, of course, took great pleasure that it wasn’t near as hard for him as it was for me. Grrr. And this morning. I’m sitting at the table, Zale is still in bed, the girls are off playing in their rooms. I happen to look up and see Abby sticking her head in the crate and I’m looking around for Mason. Turns out, Mason is in the crate, not letting Abby in. What?! As I continue to watch, they go in and out of it a few times as if it’s a play house for them or something. Zale gets up, I tell him about it, he grabs the treats, throws one in the crate, and Mason just walks right in to get it like it’s no big thing. Of course he does!

Although I am relieved that putting Mason in the crate won’t be a battle anymore (hopefully), and our furniture will be safe from further destruction, it would have been nice if I could have reaped the rewards of my hard work.

Friday night we were eating dinner with the family. My Dad comes around the table and takes the clip out of my hair (that was holding up all my tangled mess of hair). Reagan looks at him and says, REALLY, Granddaddy?!?!?! You would have thought she was a teenager instead of a soon to be 5 year old.

Last Monday and Tuesday I had horrible migraines that kept me from doing much at all except trying to avoid any light and noise. I felt bad for the girls that they were cooped up with me and not able to have much fun. So on Wednesday I took them for a surprise trip to Monkey Joe’s. Pulled up in the parking lot expecting to see lots of smiles and excitement. Not what happened! They didn’t want to go! What?! I’ve never seen them turn down a trip to Monkey Joe’s!

And lastly, yesterday I woke up at 5am with a stomach bug and from 5 until 11:30 made many trips to the bathroom. I would be perfectly happy if I went the rest of my life without ever throwing up again! But, at some point Dad called and we talked about how it’s one way to lose weight. Not the preferred way! And I told him, “Yep, and I’m just pathetic enough to get on the scales after puking my guts up (even though I can barely stand) to see if I lost any!”.  I’m glad I can make people laugh, even when I’m feeling miserable!

For weeks I’ve been thinking “I’ve got to get back to blogging!!!” Surely between the kiddos and the furry kiddos, I can come up with something worth writing about. I think I’ll just do a recap of our lives since I last blogged.

Within days of my posting about a padded sink, we had a new dishwasher (that matches the new fridge) and all the thanks goes to the best Dad ever! I think he was worried I would continue to injure myself. LOL

The kiddos and I (with wonderful friends) have been to the Zoo, an inflatable jump place called Hoppity Hop, swim parties at our dear friend’s house, cheap movies, and a few play dates. We spent a day making edible playdoh and home made dog treats (for Abby’s 1st birthday). Oh yeah, and an afternoon in “Chuckie Cheese hell” (pardon my language, but that place is insane!) for Hannah’s 7th birthday. I know the kids love it, but I’m pretty sure all the parents/grandparents were trying to figure out how to escape! In fact, my Dad found out a sure way to get kicked out, mess with the scary looking fur covered robots on the stage. No, he didn’t do it, he showed great restraint and will power!! I was very proud of him!

There were many more things on my to do list this summer, in an effort to keep the kiddos occupied, but I don’t know that they will all get done. I really don’t like how quickly the summer is flying by! Just a few more weeks until school starts again and I’m not ready for it!! I love having Hannah around all the time, and I know I will miss her dearly when she heads back to school! Plus we’re hoping to get Reagan in a preschool a couple of days a week, so for the first time in 7 years I may find myself kid-less for those days. I’m sure Zale can keep me busy in the law office. But it doesn’t mean I have to like it!!

I will come back later and post pictures of our summer fun, of course I have to get the pictures on the laptop from the camera first! But for now, we’ve got family in for a visit from Washington State and Arkansas, so I’d better get back to them.

More soon….

Back in March I posted about many things that were going wrong at once. Problems with vehicles, appliances, etc. Well the fun doesn’t ever really stop, does it? Last month our dishwasher went out. I’ve become so spoiled, that my first thought was, “oh no, now what are we going to do?” My later thought was, “oh yea, we can hand wash them!” Duh! (Or as the inside joke between Zale and I goes, “big red truck!”)

Let me remind you that a pet peeve of mine is seeing dishes piled up in the sink. For the first few days I would wash something that was used right away, dry it and put it away. This got old really fast and that pet peeve isn’t so much a pet peeve anymore. Not that I like it, but I’m finding that I can wait and wash dishes once a day. And sometimes, skip a whole day all together, and guess what?! The world doesn’t end!! Amazing, right?!

Well, Saturday, I discovered a need for something that may not have ever been invented, and probably isn’t practical anyway, but I sure could have used it! As I’m hand washing the dreaded piled up dishes in the sink, several things happened in that short amount of time. First, I reach down into the soapy water, not realizing that a glass had broken, and sliced open my thumb. So from the start, one broken glass, and one bloody thumb. Now for those of you who know me well, know that I don’t do blood without getting queasy. And of course nanoseconds after I do this, Reagan comes running into the kitchen to tell me that Hannah spilled something. I throw a towel at her, tell her I can’t deal with it right now, they’ll have to clean it up themselves.And they do…hmm…save that info for later use! Mommy doesn’t have to always be the one to clean up the messes!

I was a little proud of myself that I managed to stop the bleeding (without passing out), patch myself up, and continue washing dishes. Of course band aids don’t really like soapy water, so it took about three and a much longer to wash dishes than normal. But I was determined. Before it was all over, I had also broken a bowl and cracked a beautiful Mikasa heart shaped vase. So you see where it would benefit me to have a padded sink in my kitchen!!! At least until we replace the dishwasher!