They Are More Afraid of You Honey

Although I would like to think my children will never encounter any pain, fear, or harm; I know it is a ridiculous idea.  So rather than shelter them and have them live in a bubble, I will just do what I can to equip them with the necessary copping skills to recover from these instances.  I want my boys to have a healthy respect for certain things but not be afraid to experience new things.  If they don't like it they don't have to do it again; I just do not want them to have regrets.  Little Man is going through a fearful stage.  The dark.  Bugs.  Some dogs.  I am not a fan of some of the same stuff that concerns him but what do I do?  I grit my teeth and show him there is nothing to fear but fear itself!  There is one thing though, that can send me straight to the fetal position.  German Shepherd dogs.  I admit I am not a dog person.  Before you condemn me, I will say I do not mind other people's dogs.  I pet them.  I even play with them.  I will dog sit for you.  Just don't expect me to have a dog as a full time resident in or on my property.  That being said, German Shepherds are on another level from my regular indifference to my canine friends.

When I was a kid my mom would make holiday treats for the neighbors that my sister and I would be employed to deliver to the surrounding homes.  When I was about 7 or 8 I delivered the annual goods to the house directly behind us.  Rather than walk ALL THE WAY around the block, I cut through the back yard.  What resourceful young person would not do the same right?

I exit the back door of the home and walking at the normal pace of a young child, realize that "Mandy" is "walking" toward me at a much faster rate and barking.  I know you are not supposed to run from dogs but what do you think my instinct told me to do?  RUN!  I had merely a few feet to get to the fence that separated me from certain death.  I ran like my life depended on getting to my yard.  My waist length bright red hair was down and trailed behind me and I was sure that if that demon dog could not catch up to me she would at least cut my hair six inches with her razor sharp teeth.  I imagined, like a shark can smell blood; my red hair sent Mandy into a feeding frenzy.  She was mad I did not bring her any holiday treats and she was going to make me one instead!  Of course, as I recall this story it is all happening in slow motion so you should slow your visual down as well.

I get to the fence unscathed and throw one leg over only to realize Mandy is hot on my tail.  Before I can get the first scream out she has my dangling knee in her death grip and shreds my favorite corduroys and has her way with my knee like Freddy Kruger on a taffeta prom dress.  As I am about to pass out from fear I see all 6 feet 7 inches of my father open the back door and hurdle every obstacle in his path.  He scoops me up in the blink of an eye, and although we were safe from further mutilation, takes me inside the house.

My memory has blocked the rest in a vain attempt to maintain my love of dogs.  Obviously the worst of it was the event itself and I did not receive any lifetime scars; physical scars that is.

I am driving home form the store today with the boys in the back seat.  A car approaches the driver side as it is about to pass us.  I hear the beast before I see it in the back seat.  Just the sound of a German Shepard bark makes me cringe.  In our back seat Little Man was watching Curious George and says "mommy, that was a bog dog that passed us".  All I could muster, as I involuntarily pushed the gas pedal, was "yes it was honey".

Wordless Wednesday

While trying to clean the oven the other day,
Poco decided to hop in and check things out.
Turkey is overrated anyway.

What Happens At The Backyardigans...

Must not be exciting enough for hubs. While Nana and I took Little Man to see the Backyardigans on Sunday, hubs was driving to the state line to get a new cat. Why did he drive to the state line and not to the north side of town you ask? Oh, you mean the north side of town where the Humane Society is located? Well, you see, we had a cat once. Picatso was her name. Hubs and I got Picatso on Valentine's Day in 2001. We were not cat people but really liked little Pic. She was just sassy and feisty enough for us and was super cute. She moved all over the country with us but we had to put her to sleep in Florida. We were about to move back to Missouri when we were told she had feline leukemia. It broke my heart but the vet said the trip back would be too much for her.

We tried to get a new kitty before The Babe arrived. Little Man was about 16 months old and the kitty was too jumpy and bit a lot. I got tired of hearing Little Man say "bite, bite". He got bit enough at daycare; he didn't need to worry about it at home. So Frankie the kitty went to "a friend".

Hubs and I have been debating a new kitty for a while. Little Man really wanted one and when a new one showed up at his friend's home he was dead set on it. Hubs said if it was going to happen then hubs would pick it out. OK fine. Hubs fell in love with a curly haired kitten on line at a Humane Society in Arkansas. The woman said she would even meet him half way; but if she were to go to that trouble we had to be sure. So, hubs drove to the state line and missed the Backyardigans but it was worth the delight on Little Man's face when we came home.

Little Man named our new family member Poco. I thought this was cute since that seems to be the name of all his stuffed animals. All except the two stuffed dogs. Those are named Suzie and Dimitri for my dad and step-mom's dogs.

Poco is such a good girl and the boys are very good with her. Little Man loves to play with her but is still very watchful of The Babe. Today the three of them were playing and Poco was getting excited. Little Man said "Poco, be careful with The Babe, he's my guy" and stepped in between the two.

What Happens At The Backyardigans...

Must not be exciting enough for hubs. While Nana and I took Little Man to see the Backyardigans on Sunday, hubs was driving to the state line to get a new cat. Why did he drive to the state line and not to the north side of town you ask? Oh, you mean the north side of town where the Humane Society is located? Well, you see, we had a cat once. Picatso was her name. Hubs and I got Picatso on Valentine's Day in 2001. We were not cat people but really liked little Pic. She was just sassy and feisty enough for us and was super cute. She moved all over the country with us but we had to put her to sleep in Florida. We were about to move back to Missouri when we were told she had feline leukemia. It broke my heart but the vet said the trip back would be too much for her.

We tried to get a new kitty before The Babe arrived. Little Man was about 16 months old and the kitty was too jumpy and bit a lot. I got tired of hearing Little Man say "bite, bite". He got bit enough at daycare; he didn't need to worry about it at home. So Frankie the kitty went to "a friend".

Hubs and I have been debating a new kitty for a while. Little Man really wanted one and when a new one showed up at his friend's home he was dead set on it. Hubs said if it was going to happen then hubs would pick it out. OK fine. Hubs fell in love with a curly haired kitten on line at a Humane Society in Arkansas. The woman said she would even meet him half way; but if she were to go to that trouble we had to be sure. So, hubs drove to the state line and missed the Backyardigans but it was worth the delight on Little Man's face when we came home.

Little Man named our new family member Poco. I thought this was cute since that seems to be the name of all his stuffed animals. All except the two stuffed dogs. Those are named Suzie and Dimitri for my dad and step-mom's dogs.

Poco is such a good girl and the boys are very good with her. Little Man loves to play with her but is still very watchful of The Babe. Today the three of them were playing and Poco was getting excited. Little Man said "Poco, be careful with The Babe, he's my guy" and stepped in between the two.

Ribbit Ribbit

If you have looked at any photos of me and the family, you already know how fair we are. To add to our summer woes, the boys and I are prone to bug bites. No, really. Little Man and I open the door to go outside and they swarm us. We start itching and swatting before we can get to the car. We now have protection ! Bullfrog Mosquito Coast Sunblock! Yippee!

I normally don't use my blog to make advertisements but this is just a testimony to a great product. If others like us can gain reprieve, then I feel good about all the other crap you have had to read here.

The tag line says it all: Bullfrog Mosquito Coast just makes summer easier.

It repels the sun and bugs at the same time! You can't beat that with a fly swatter!

Now go get some!

Some trivia about the bullfrog:

The American Bullfrog is the State Amphibian of Missouri (how about that?) and Oklahoma.

Two Bullfrogs were launched into orbit in 1970 on the Orbiting Frog Otolith spacecraft.

Ribbit Ribbit

If you have looked at any photos of me and the family, you already know how fair we are. To add to our summer woes, the boys and I are prone to bug bites. No, really. Little Man and I open the door to go outside and they swarm us. We start itching and swatting before we can get to the car. We now have protection ! Bullfrog Mosquito Coast Sunblock! Yippee!

I normally don't use my blog to make advertisements but this is just a testimony to a great product. If others like us can gain reprieve, then I feel good about all the other crap you have had to read here.

The tag line says it all: Bullfrog Mosquito Coast just makes summer easier.

It repels the sun and bugs at the same time! You can't beat that with a fly swatter!

Now go get some!

Some trivia about the bullfrog:

The American Bullfrog is the State Amphibian of Missouri (how about that?) and Oklahoma.

Two Bullfrogs were launched into orbit in 1970 on the Orbiting Frog Otolith spacecraft.

Old MacDonald had a Farm

We are just a few of the animals living there!

The other day I was running errands with the boys. I realized it was getting close to lunch time (and nap time! Woo hoo!) and asked Little Man where he would like to eat. I want to go to Old MacDonald's Mama. See, Little Man calls the golden arches "Old MacDonald's" and since I think it is cute I have now adopted the name for the establishment myself. I think the name seems to fit. Think about it. When you walk in one of these places it is like a farm; animals running around making noises. The smell! Whoa! What am I feeding my children? I try to avoid the place as much as possible but on this particular day the closest one was next to my favorite place.

Prepare yourselves, I think I hear a choir of angles...Drive Through Starbucks. I swear, the woman that thought of this idea had to have children. She is the one that thought of the drive through Dunkin Donuts too, I am sure of it. Only a woman (or a stay at home dad) is smart enough to realize the importance of the drive through. We have to feed them, right? It is the getting them out of the car, one on a stroller that is screaming "walk, walk" while the other is pulling your hand (because he knows we hold hands in the parking lot) just to get to the play area. Forget it, we are driving through!

Back to the choir. I run through the farm to get slop for the monkeys and cruise next door for me. I order my usual and drive up to pay. I normally only splurge for a four dollar coffee when I have enough change in my change pouch, but today was a treat. My mother in law gave me a gift card to use. She received it from a girl at church and since she does not drink coffee, gave it to me! Oh, happy day! I hand the happy guy my card and he asks if I would like a White Chocolate Frap that the car in front of me gave up. I decided I would take it to a friend and begin to dig for change; after all, mine was already paid for so there was no harm. Karma baby. Happy guy then says "no no, it is free". Oh Happy Day!

I am a happy clam drinking my free coffee when I hear The Babe in the back seat whining. Thinking he needs another processed piece of meat from the farm, I turn around to investigate. What I find is not a toddler needing food. I find a young boy with a pair of his mommy's (yes, that is me) underwear on his head. He has one arm through a leg hole and is upset he can not get the other arm, or his head for that matter, through the other leg hole. The only thing I could think of was the undies were hiding in his clean shirt when I sorted the laundry that morning. Ah!

No wonder Happy Guy was so happy. No wonder he gave me free coffee. I will never go to that Starbucks again, or roll down the windows to let the boys talk to the attendant. Thank God it was a pair of my "more appealing" unmentionables.

Men are such animals.

Old MacDonald had a Farm

We are just a few of the animals living there!

The other day I was running errands with the boys. I realized it was getting close to lunch time (and nap time! Woo hoo!) and asked Little Man where he would like to eat. I want to go to Old MacDonald's Mama. See, Little Man calls the golden arches "Old MacDonald's" and since I think it is cute I have now adopted the name for the establishment myself. I think the name seems to fit. Think about it. When you walk in one of these places it is like a farm; animals running around making noises. The smell! Whoa! What am I feeding my children? I try to avoid the place as much as possible but on this particular day the closest one was next to my favorite place.

Prepare yourselves, I think I hear a choir of angles...Drive Through Starbucks. I swear, the woman that thought of this idea had to have children. She is the one that thought of the drive through Dunkin Donuts too, I am sure of it. Only a woman (or a stay at home dad) is smart enough to realize the importance of the drive through. We have to feed them, right? It is the getting them out of the car, one on a stroller that is screaming "walk, walk" while the other is pulling your hand (because he knows we hold hands in the parking lot) just to get to the play area. Forget it, we are driving through!

Back to the choir. I run through the farm to get slop for the monkeys and cruise next door for me. I order my usual and drive up to pay. I normally only splurge for a four dollar coffee when I have enough change in my change pouch, but today was a treat. My mother in law gave me a gift card to use. She received it from a girl at church and since she does not drink coffee, gave it to me! Oh, happy day! I hand the happy guy my card and he asks if I would like a White Chocolate Frap that the car in front of me gave up. I decided I would take it to a friend and begin to dig for change; after all, mine was already paid for so there was no harm. Karma baby. Happy guy then says "no no, it is free". Oh Happy Day!

I am a happy clam drinking my free coffee when I hear The Babe in the back seat whining. Thinking he needs another processed piece of meat from the farm, I turn around to investigate. What I find is not a toddler needing food. I find a young boy with a pair of his mommy's (yes, that is me) underwear on his head. He has one arm through a leg hole and is upset he can not get the other arm, or his head for that matter, through the other leg hole. The only thing I could think of was the undies were hiding in his clean shirt when I sorted the laundry that morning. Ah!

No wonder Happy Guy was so happy. No wonder he gave me free coffee. I will never go to that Starbucks again, or roll down the windows to let the boys talk to the attendant. Thank God it was a pair of my "more appealing" unmentionables.

Men are such animals.

Bad Judgement

While visiting the park with the two tots and their Nana the other day, I witnessed parenting at it's finest.

While walking to one of the slides with The Babe in my arms, I pushed his stroller. Nana and Little Man were ahead of me, as Little Man was too excited to wait for us to get to the slide. I observed a woman in front of me pushing a stroller with a small baby inside. As she pushed her infant she struggled to maintain control over the large leashed lab that pulled her. When I say this is a large dog I would guess this dog weighed more than I do; it was a small horse. The Babe could have asked for a ride on the dog rather than the Merry Go Round. In a split second I thanked God that I had chosen to hold The Babe rather than use the stroller. The mom in font of me was jerked away from her stroller as the leashed dog leaped at a much smaller version of himself walking by. The mortified woman begins to scream profanities to her dog while yanking his leash. The owner of the victim begins to kick the aggressor while bystanders grab their children out of harms way. A man with his young child yells to strangle the dog. There is no stopping this train wreck. Nana takes Little Man away; but I can not help but watch. It was like a test of human socialization and psychology. The poor puppy is screaming and bleeding as the "dog that has never done this before" clamps down on his neck like an alligator would pull prey under the water to drown it. I get away after what seems to be an inappropriate amount of time to be away from Little Man. I wanted to make sure he is not traumatized. After all, just last week he witnessed a kitty meet it's maker.

Daddy arrives at the park with our picnic dinner. As the five of us dine on park fare we see the owner of the "bad dog" as Little Man named him. Not only is she still there, she is crying on a ledge while her dog walks around inspecting and smelling other park patrons. What is wrong with this picture. First things first. Where is her baby? Second. What in the world is she still doing there. As if the glares and whispers wouldn't send me on my way, the thought that it could have been a child would send me to the pound.

So she finally leaves with her dog in tow. As I watch her leave I see a woman with a young girl of about two in her arms. She is calling for her older daughter, about 4 years old, to slow down and wait for her. When the eldest does not hear or chooses to not listen to mommy, the woman runs to the girl and says "don't be stupid dumb dumb" listen to me. Am I being too sensitive based on the dog attack or is it fair to say that speaking to your child like this may begin to have an affect on their self esteem and ability to socialize or remotely excel at simply tasks. I don't mean to offend anyone that calls their kids stupid but if you do, would you be offended that I even care?

** I learned this particular dog was a Newfoundland/Lab mix. This post is not in any way to insinuate that all dogs are aggressive; just that some owners have no common sense (owners of animals or children for that matter)

Bad Judgement

While visiting the park with the two tots and their Nana the other day, I witnessed parenting at it's finest.

While walking to one of the slides with The Babe in my arms, I pushed his stroller. Nana and Little Man were ahead of me, as Little Man was too excited to wait for us to get to the slide. I observed a woman in front of me pushing a stroller with a small baby inside. As she pushed her infant she struggled to maintain control over the large leashed lab that pulled her. When I say this is a large dog I would guess this dog weighed more than I do; it was a small horse. The Babe could have asked for a ride on the dog rather than the Merry Go Round. In a split second I thanked God that I had chosen to hold The Babe rather than use the stroller. The mom in font of me was jerked away from her stroller as the leashed dog leaped at a much smaller version of himself walking by. The mortified woman begins to scream profanities to her dog while yanking his leash. The owner of the victim begins to kick the aggressor while bystanders grab their children out of harms way. A man with his young child yells to strangle the dog. There is no stopping this train wreck. Nana takes Little Man away; but I can not help but watch. It was like a test of human socialization and psychology. The poor puppy is screaming and bleeding as the "dog that has never done this before" clamps down on his neck like an alligator would pull prey under the water to drown it. I get away after what seems to be an inappropriate amount of time to be away from Little Man. I wanted to make sure he is not traumatized. After all, just last week he witnessed a kitty meet it's maker.

Daddy arrives at the park with our picnic dinner. As the five of us dine on park fare we see the owner of the "bad dog" as Little Man named him. Not only is she still there, she is crying on a ledge while her dog walks around inspecting and smelling other park patrons. What is wrong with this picture. First things first. Where is her baby? Second. What in the world is she still doing there. As if the glares and whispers wouldn't send me on my way, the thought that it could have been a child would send me to the pound.

So she finally leaves with her dog in tow. As I watch her leave I see a woman with a young girl of about two in her arms. She is calling for her older daughter, about 4 years old, to slow down and wait for her. When the eldest does not hear or chooses to not listen to mommy, the woman runs to the girl and says "don't be stupid dumb dumb" listen to me. Am I being too sensitive based on the dog attack or is it fair to say that speaking to your child like this may begin to have an affect on their self esteem and ability to socialize or remotely excel at simply tasks. I don't mean to offend anyone that calls their kids stupid but if you do, would you be offended that I even care?

** I learned this particular dog was a Newfoundland/Lab mix. This post is not in any way to insinuate that all dogs are aggressive; just that some owners have no common sense (owners of animals or children for that matter)