Monday, December 21, 2009
Every year we run into the problem of the kids snooping at Christmas presents. If they see their name on something, they're sure to touch it. We noticed several years ago that our friends, The Little's, used code names for their kids. That made sense to us, and we did it last year using the cast of Scooby Doo. This year, I took it a step further.
I went into Word and made several prints of five different Christmas symbols. I printed them all out and punched holes in them that ribbon can go through. Wrapping will go quickly this year because my friend, Mindy, gave me LOTS of cloth bags that simply need to be tied with ribbon. Yay for time saving!!!
Anyway, rather than writing their names, each child will have a symbol tied to their packages. They won't know which symbol is for them until Christmas morning. And, just to be sure I don't forget who is who, I'm writing it right here. I can't write it anywhere in the house due to prying eyes.
Number One: Christmas Tree because he's always so bright and handsome to look at. And he lights up a room when he walks in.
The Beast: Nativity scene. He's our spiritual one who seems to be most in tune with the Savior.
Pretty: Candy cane because she's just so dang sweet!
Snort: Snow man. Snowman are round and pudgy and adorably lovable, like Snort.
Little Guy: A present. After all, he was our most memorable Christmas gift yet.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Dear Family and Friends:
The humans didn't have time to write their annual Christmas card this year, so they told me I had to do it. They think I have free time on my paws or something. Apparently they are unaware of how hard I work at marking my territory and scaring off the mailman and other unsuspecting visitors.
The big humans keep telling me they're always busy. I keep asking to be walked, but they just tell the smaller humans to walk me. The big man human spends lots of time at his work. He tells me that he has to go there if I want him to bring home enough bones to sustain my current quality of life. He told me this week that I have to get one of those Snuggies for dogs because he got a new job in Saint Louis. I tried to complain, but he said I could take my doghouse. I can't argue with that. Well, mostly. He said I also have to take the cat. I don't like the cat. The big lady human mostly just cleans all the time. I work so hard to make sure I leave my fur all over my favorite chair, and she just swoops right in with that big sucky thing and takes it all off. She keeps telling me this is her house, but I don't see her marking her territory anywhere.
My favorite humans are the little humans. There is the biggest one who feeds us. He keeps telling me he needs to go to school. I've never been to obedience school, and I'm great. I don't really understand why he insists on going there every day. He must be paper trained because lots of his papers are hanging on the refrigerator. He also wears a uniform and tells people he's a scout. He's lucky I like him. I usually chase people with uniforms.
The next human is that one who talks really loud. He goes to obedience school now, too. I'm not surprised about that. He doesn't sit well at all. The nice thing about his school is that now he can read the labels on the food, so he feeds me sometimes now. I get in lots of trouble for making messes of the trash, but for some reason, he's allowed to play with all kinds of weird stuff. He calls it art. I call it a huge mess.
The girl human is pretty cute. I can mostly tolerate her. She likes to make me wear tiaras, though. Doesn't she know I'm a boy dog??? She loves to stand on her bed and sing, and she never gets in trouble for it. If I howl from my bed, I get in really big trouble. I think she must be learning something at her obedience school, too, because she is counting and pretending a lot. I know because she makes me be the one to play with her most.
The little human with the glasses has gotten really big and learned a new trick. He can walk on just his hind legs now!! I've been trying to learn that for a long time with no luck. He must be gifted. He's also really good at doing tricks. When he wants something, he just has to cry and make this really sad face (like on the Christmas card picture), and he gets anything he wants. Most of my tricks don't get me any prizes.
Then there's that little human they got me last year for Christmas. I liked him when he was tiny like me, but now he's big and really noisy. He spent lots of time at the vet this year, and now he has a leash that he wears even in the house. The owners call it a nasal canula and they say he won't always need it. I hope so because I don't know how he could possibly sniff out bones with that thing near his snout. He is also working on wearing those things over his ears so he can hear better. I think he's my favorite human because he walks on all four's like me. And he likes me. And I think he and I speak the same language.
So, that's all the news about the humans. I won't tell you about the other dog or the cat. I don't really like them. And, I don't have time. I need to go wait for that one guy that comes every year in the red suit.
Tino (the dog)
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Pretty: Ow! My carseat hurts my penit!
Me: Your what?
Pretty: My penit!
Me: Your penis?
Pretty: Yes! My penit.
Me: Baby, you are a girl. You don't have a penis. You have another part.
Beast: Nope. You don't have a penis. You're a girl.
Me: I can tell you more about it when we get home, Pretty.
Beast: Your penis is called a BaChina!
Monday, December 14, 2009
Snort has a lovely new hobby. Poop art. Poop throwing. Poop tasting. Poop EVERYTHING. For some reason, he chooses only to poop in bed. He then proceeds to do whatever it takes to remove said poop from his diaper so he can use it as a lovely creative outlet. I'm still scarred by the fine creation the King and I had to clean up last night.
It seems we've finally found a resolution to the situation (which would have worked last night had I actually implemented it!!). Onesies and long johns. Picture it: The long john bottoms go on first. The onesie goes over the long john bottoms. The long john top goes over the onesie. Why such a weird way of dressing him? Well, with the onesie on, he can't get into his diaper from the top. With the long johns UNDER the onesie, he can't pull his bottoms off and pull the poop out the side of the diaper.
Snort may be a creative poop artist, but I've been around this block once before. He's going to have to get a lot more creative if he wants to have poop to play with much longer.
Oh, and yes. Pictures of him in his goofy jammies are soon to come.
Friday, December 11, 2009
So, I told the King to enjoy his long hot shower and that I'd run them to school. I grabbed a shirt, loaded them in, and was on my merry way. I didn't worry about the fact that I wasn't wearing a bra, hadn't brushed my teeth or hair, and was still wearing what was left of yesterday's make-up. The assistant principal is always the one to unload the kids from the carpool lane, and she knows me. I didn't mind her seeing me braless.
What I failed to remember is that today is Friday. The DOGS (Dads of Great Students) unload the kids on Fridays and give them all high fives on the way in the door. Oh. My. GOSH!! Some kids' dad was getting my boys out of the van today!!!! Did I mention I wasn't wearing a bra? My boobs looked like something from a picture of an Amazonian tribe in a National Geographic magazine!!! I died just a little bit.
I don't think the guy noticed. He was freezing out there unloading all the kids. That was my only chance at minimizing the humiliation. Yeah. I'm adaquately humiliated for the day.
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Saturday, December 5, 2009
We got up bright and early and were all dressed and ready to go right on time. Number One's friend, L, just lives around the corner so we took her with us, too. First we went to Home Depot where they made wooden wagons. Number One made me really proud at this particular stop. He did his project completely on his home with absolutely no help. Then, when he knew we needed to hurry to make it to Lowe's in time, another family came in with much younger children. Number One stopped what he was doing and offered to help them build their wagons, too. I knew we would be a little bit late, but how do you tell a nine year old that his efforts toward generosity are flawed? So, we stayed.
We made it to Lowe's just in time, and all three of them were able to build their gingerbread houses. They were so proud of their projects. We will absolutely be working hard to be sure we get to do this again frequently.