GONE in a wag of a tail

Item: Half of a peanut butter sandwich


Suspect: Brown chocolate lab cowering in the back of his crate


Every morning my kids have peanut butter toast. This morning I made one for my eight year old and my four year old and laid them on the counter in front of the toaster. My thirteen year old had already had hers next to a drooling chocolate lab licking his chops hungrily and left for school. My eight year old son devoured his before leaving for school as well. Then my four year old daughter went to retrieve hers. "Mommy, where is it?"


"On the counter."


"No, it's not"


"Yes, it is."


My husband, who was out in the kitchen getting his morning dose of caffeine chimed in, "It's not here, hon."


I was watching a news segment on television, "Of course it's there. I left it in front of the toaster."


"Not there anymore."


"Well, what could have hap-" I took one look at the dog, "COBY!" Tail between his legs he hightails it to his crate and cowers in the back of it. Aha!


Our last dog, a dalmatian, had been an outside dog. When we chose to have an inside dog, we had no idea some of the things that would entail. We have a cart to set our microwave on and the bottom shelf underneath has a rolling door and we kept bread in there. Sometimes we would neglect to pull the door shut but it did not seem to be a problem till a month ago. I walked out there to find bags to three loaves on the floor...the bread gone...... the dog cowering in the back of his cage. He knew. Oh, my and how that bread affected his digestive system! The house was permeated with odors nto wished on my worst enemy! I never knew a dog could do that till we had Coby. Now we try to keep bread away from him but he will choose any chance he can get to steal it, even if it's from my four year old's hands. He gives a whole new meaning to the phrase "Gas Hog".

Selective Hearing

"Tyler, do you have any homework?"

"Huh? I can't hear you."

"Do-you-have-any-homework?"

"What?"

New tactic. I whispered, "How about some cookies?"

"I WANT SOME COOKIES!" Uh-huh!

It's amazing what our kids can hear when they really want to. I learned a long time ago that telling them anything while they were playing their gameboy was wasted breath. Even the television can totally disrupt their hearing. My husband is a volunteer firefighter and has a pager in the living room to notify him of calls. It is often turned up and can be very loud. Often I will come into the room after hearing it go off and ask my thirteen year old, "What was the call?"

She usually turns a blank face to me, "I don't know."

"Well, where was it?"

"I don't know."

"But you were sitting right next to it! You should have heard something!"

She shrugs her shoulders and turns her attention back to the television.

Then here was that time my son was playing his gameboy and his father got a fire call while watching television next to him. He was gone a full ten minutes before my son looked up, "Hey, where's dad?"

However I can be in another room and paper rustling will bring them running, "Can I have some too?"

I think the wisest thing a parent can do is go by the thought, "If you can't beat em', join em".

"Mom, can I have twenty bucks?"

"What? I 'm afraid I didn't catch that!"

"Hey, how about if I use the car tonight?"

"Did you say something?"

Yep, there certainly is something to this selective hearing thing. Try it on an adolescent near you!

Hi, I'm Denise & I hail from the country "IJustCan'tSeemToWin"

Did you ever feel like that? Some of the arguments my kids, especially my two youngest, get into are just really really ridiculous.

This morning I had my eight year old son, Tyler, remake his bed because he's been getting really sloppy with it. I told him to put all of his stuffed animals, mostly dogs, approximately 20, nicely on his bed or an empty shelf I had provided. They are usually all over the floor. Tonight, after church, I went in and, instead of preparing for bed, he was sitting on the floor amidst all of his stuffed animals with a pout painted on his face. I asked him what was wrong. "I may as well get rid of all of them." When I asked why, he replied, "Because I can't get them to stand up on the bed."

Taking a breath I made myself answer very calmly, "So then just lay them down on their sides. As long as they look neat. Look, you can even put some on that shelf. I cleared a whole shelf off for some of them."

He continued in a pouty voice, "But they won't stand up so I am just going to throw them out."

Counting to ten, "Tyler, it is after 9:00 and you need to get to bed instead of arguing about this thing." I walked from the room.

More moaning from the room a minute later brought me back.

"I'm just going to throw them out."

Okay, let's try counting in German this time. Eins. Zwei. Drei. "Fine. Whatever. Just get ready for bed." I vacate the room.

A few minutes later more moaning and crying brought me back. This time animals were piled up from his trash can. Uno. Dos. Tres..... "There, I threw them out."

"Okay. Fine. Now please go to sleep."

It wasn't long till crying erupted from the room again. Gritting my teeth, I stomped to the room. "WHAT is wrong THIS TIME?!"

He breaks out in rather theatrical tears that I will give a Ten to, "I can't sleep without my dalmatian."

I walk from the room into the hallway and acted like I was banging my head against the wall, only I was using my fist. Hey, I may be frustrated, but I want to maintain my single vision and not see two of everything.

At 10:00 I went in to cover him again. He was sleeping soundly.....all twenty of his stuffed animals spread around him.....on their sides.

Empty Nest

I am so not looking forward to when all my chicks leave the nest. Because my children are spread so far apart in ages, I have a long time to wait. As long as the Lord sees fit not to take any of my children home, I figure I have at least fifteen more years until my last little fledgling flies away. (Unless I find a way to clip their wings. Hey! There's a novel idea!)

I had a small taste of it yesterday when my mother-in-law chose to take my youngest for the day. No matter how many scrapes she can get herself into or how many ways she can concoct to get on my nerves, the moment she left the hoouse, she took the sunshine with her. A stifling gloom enveloped me in despair and darkness and it was my unwanted associate for the bulk of the day. When she returned late in the afternoon, the sun was her welcome companion.
There were numerous times a seasoned grandmother would approach me with, "Enjoy them while they're young. The time goes by so quickly." I believe that wholeheartedly. It is so hard to remember that my thirteen year old was once a baby and yet it was like it was yesterday. She already is maturing into an adult wanting to try her wings by exerting her own independance and, yet, as many times she wants to make her own way, she often returns and seems to want her mother's attention and care.

My son often wonders why mom won't let him walk home from school by himself. After all, he is eight years old and not a baby and, yet, every morning he asks if I will be coming for him. I know my children recognize that with parent supervision also comes protection and security. Deep down inside they are torn between growing up and staying under that umbrella.

Yes, I plan to enjoy these years, as hard and stressful as they can be because I know in less then twenty years I will give anything to have them back.

I'm Going To Run Away!

That was the announcement my four and a half year old made today when she did not get her own way..... and then she ran.... all the way to the living room. Four year olds seem to have it tough. They are still wanting to depend on their moms and, yet, they are trying to establish independance. Saying they are going to run away is like a stroke of independance for them even though it may be agrivating for their parents. My oldest daughter, Nicole, was five when she made that announcement. Her baby brother was just born and she suddenly realized that he was getting all the attention and we "lost" the address to return him. Theatrical as she was, one day she made the announcement. "I am running away!"

Amused, I asked, "Well, where are you going?"

"To grandma's!"

"Well, how will you get there?"

"I'll walk!" (Note: Grandma was at least 5 miles away!)

"Well, then you're going to have to pack a bag."

So she packed one. She went and got a small paper lunch bag and filled it with her necessities; a pair of underwear, socks and a toothbrush. Then she started out for grandma's. Of course, I would not let her past the neighbors.

Kids this age can uncannily cause the funniest sitcoms. I recently found my youngest daughter's hairbrush. I asked her if she's been brushing the cat. "Nope," she replied, "That's dog hair."

Then there was the time a few years ago that I found that the wall had been "decorated". I said,"Tyler, you and I both know you did this!" Tyler hung his head but said nothing so I continued, "So you are going to have to give me your crayons for awhile."

"It was done with markers."