"What my doggies name?"

"Banjo"

"That right, my doggie Banjo, he a tiny doggie, so he fit in my house.  Moose not in my house.  He not tiny, my doggie tiny.  God gave me tiny doggie."

Our conversation in the car yesterday.  Annie keeps forgetting his name, but that hasn't stopped her from smothering him every day.  Moose would be my sister dog, who is much bigger than Banjo.  I'm kind of worried about Annie seeing one of those itty bitty dogs; she might try and trade Banjo in for something smaller.   All our conversations lately have been about Banjo, it's all she talks about.   I'm constantly catching the two of them together doing something cute.  I'm  so thankful God found us this amazing dog.  

Really?

Banjo

  The reasons are:

1. I don't want Annie growing up afraid of dogs

2. She loves them! (after getting over initial fear)

3. Annie really could use a sibling and this as close as it gets for now

4. Security system (this one is for me)

5. Annie's birthday is coming up

So this led me to the Humane Society in Maryland Heights.  Yes, very far away.   We went to see a dog we found on-line, but the dog turned out not to be good with kids, super hyper and a bad fit for us.  So we were just going to leave, when my sister said she saw another cute dog.  I'm thinking, it can't hurt to just look.   Well, it can.   He was so gentle and sweet.  Kissed the girls and kept rolling over to have you pet his belly.  Plus he's part Basset Hound, my favorite breed (only I could never afford the vet bills on a pure bred).   

This is either the dumbest thing I've ever done or the smartest thing.   Her dad was nice enough to split the cost with me on food and vet bills, so that Annie could have the dog.  Now we just have to see what kind of dog he really is.  I'm going to give him about two weeks to show his true colors.   It's hard to believe he could be this good.    

I didn't really think we would find a dog today.  I planned on spending a whole month researching and looking at shelter, but he just fit.  We'll see how I feel about him in a week or two.  For now I love him.   Annie has already claimed him as hers.  She's done everything but pee on him, to mark him.   

Tattoos and scissors

  When I got the call, honestly, it was the first thing I thought of.  "Somethings happened, Annie's ok, but..."  my mother seems hesitant to tell me the but.   "Really she's ok, but she did something." Already I know what Annie did.  It's something I've feared for a while now.  What all little kids do at one point.  I guess it's a right of passage.  Already I'm in tears, because I know.  At this point I'm just praying it's not terrible.  That it's not all gone.  Yes my little Annie cut her hair, and I'm driving (with tear in my eyes) what now seems the longest distance to see how bad the damage is.   I love my Annie, more than anyone, and I love her hair.  It's beautiful and curly and long, and I'm thinking in my head all gone.   I get to my mothers to find a pile of hair, and Annie, with super short wispy bangs and chops taken out of the curls that used to frame her beautiful little face.   Thankfully she didn't cut into the sides all the way or it would have been worse.  Now each time I look at her I have to fight off the tears because she's so proud of herself and feels so beautiful.   The hardest part of being a mom sometimes is just that.  Not showing how upset I am when she cuts her hair, or colors on the wall for the first time not knowing thats bad.   Then there's the not laughing when she's being completely serious about something and you have to force yourself not to laugh, not to smile to big.   Like when she makes up a new song and you get to see the debut performance (which is of course histerical).  She's informing you to not laugh at the doll because said doll has no arms or legs and you might hurt her feelings.  The list is endless, and so is my love of Annie.  This to shall pass right?   Her hair will grow back, I will meet the man of my dreams someday, and Annie will grow to be a beautiful woman who loves the Lord and never gets a tattoo or piercing.  

My new mouse trap

Today was yet another example of how ridiculous my life has become.  I worked six hours cleaning a large filthy house only to get a migraine after work (on the one night I had planned to go out).  The migraine's that the meds I'm on are supposed to stop.  The meds that made me super sick and now only make me mildly nauseous all day every day, aren't working.   GRRR...   At least I have Bob now.   Yes, I have Bob.  He looks ferocious doesn't he?  I got him yesterday after work and brought him home.  Eager to have him roam the house and catch the rats.   He ended up sleeping all night in bed with me.   I figured I'd give him one more shot.   See if his hunter instinct came out.    Well it did, sorta.  He managed to corner a rat in the dinning room, but then he cased it to me, and left.  Not exactly what I had in mind.    So I'm here, in my kitchen sitting up on a chair waiting for Bob to come back and finish the job.  I just hope he comes back soon.   The rat is blocking the exit. 

On the up side, I get my food stamps back tomorrow, and people from church may come and help me finish the top to the chicken coop.  I'm excited about having food again, but mostly I'm excited about my chickens not being someone else's food.

Mouse Traps

It's freaking 10:30 at night and I'm up crying because I've spent the last 25 minutes trying to set two stupid mouse traps.  Every time I set one down it goes off, setting off the other one and I have to start again.  Have you ever tried to set these stupid things?   It's the most stressful thing ever, and the worst part?  Yeah, if a critter actually sets one off,  you then get to clean it up.   I can't do this.  I can not trap the icky critters that are running around this house.  I'm not cut out for this, and I'm really mad that God hasn't figured out by now that I need some freaking help!   I can't catch the mice and drain off the flooding back yard and finish this stupid chicken coop (what was I thinking?) and make enough money to pay the freaking bills, and feed and cloth Annie on what money isn't left over because our freaking food stamps got cancelled because some idiot forgot to forward her mail when she moved.  Yeah, that would be me and now we have no freaking food and a mounting credit card bill just to buy Annie's basics.   Annie evidently cannot live without pink pretzels and cheese sticks, just ask her she'll tell you.  

two day marathon

It's not what you think.   I'm not training for a marathon like so many moms, who seem to have inordinate amounts of spare time to do so.   Annie and I had two days of solid Go.  It started off, of coarse, with the country club day in the sun, followed by me sun burned wishing I could take a nap.    Instead, I found myself working on the chicken coop while Annie napped.   Then yesterday not realizing how tired I was from a full day of dehydration thought going to the botanical gardens would be a good idea.   So I called up my friend Lindsey, Author of "who froo that ham at me" (see top right hand corner), and off we went.  Sunshine and long walks here we come.   Annie of course was still tired from the day before and required a fair amount of carrying.  Regardless she had fun, and so did I.    The fish were bigger than I remembered and all sorts of things have changed.   I think another trip in the near future is a must, but I'm gonna wait for a day when I'm not sunburnt and tired.   I have no shame in admitting that we both fell asleep after we got home.  I am ashamed to admit just how long we napped, so I won't.