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Meanwhile, in Mauraland…

11 Oct

Our morning went the same – wake up, make coffee, Maura turned on some cartoons, I let the big dog out. Eventually tiny dog left the warmth of teen girl’s bed and she went outside too.

But not long enough.

Next thing I know, Maura comes running to me. “MOM! MOM! MOMMOM! Come see!!!”

She grabbed my hand and dragged me to the living room.


Apparently tiny dog had to poop. Maura was horrified that tiny dog had to poop and did so on the brand new area rug. Teen girl, who was sitting in said living room, hadn’t noticed.

Observational skills test results-

Maura: 1

Miriam: 0

Tiny dog (who never actually does this, hence Maura’s horror at it) was thrown back outside for good measure. Miriam got to clean up after her dog. And Maura got a new version of “High five poopy!” for alerting us to what the tiny dog had done.

Maura and the tiny dog

Maura and the tiny dog



You shouldn’t buy a white puppy in the middle of a blizzard

5 Oct

The year was 1979. I know, because it was also the year of the Blizzard of ’79 that hit Chicago. Snow was everywhere, and people were literally shooting others over parking spots that they had spent hours digging out and then were “holding” with lawn chairs. Chicago – always keeping it classy.

We were in the suburbs…barely…but we had alleys and garages and snow routes, which meant that during the night, we were forced to park the cars in the garage that might collapse under the weight of snow so the village snow plows could clear the streets.

How snowy was it?

It was so snowy that they ran out of places to put the snow except on top of more snow. Which meant that when my brother’s and I walked up to the library, in trying to keep on the sidewalk on the block with the lumber yard, we had to climb a mountain of snow then walk along the top of it. Luckily, it was so high that it reached the top of the two story lumber shed, and we held onto the gutter for balance.

It was so snowy that at one point, six year old me wasn’t allowed out there. I was tiny for my age, the snow was taller than me, and my mom was afraid that I might get sucked in by the snow and suffocate. I cried over it – until my brothers got the genius plan to make trails in the snow and spent hours basically building a maze through our front yard, packing in snow paths, so I could run through them as well.

It was so snowy that the snow in parts was higher than our fence, which was about four feet high.

Everything was white. None of it was going anywhere.

Meanwhile, our dog George – who was a wondrous mutt of a dog – died on March 1st. And we cried because George was awesome.

George and baby me

George and one of us as a rugrat

We kids only knew life with a dog, and being kids had the mourning period of gnats, so we were probably all “Can we get a puppy now?” My parents, also being dog lovers, hatched a plan. My brother’s birthday was just two days away, why not present the family with a new puppy then?

It was also the year my dad decided to get those trick candles – the ones that you blow out and they relight? Yeah, not the best option for a cake two days after your beloved pet dies and your greatest wish is to get a new dog. The wish was made, the candles blown out, the candles relit, my brother burst into tears thinking his wish wouldn’t come true, and my mother started muttering to my dad “Get the puppy! For God’s sake, get the puppy!”

The little white furball was then presented to us, and we had cake and a new puppy and all was well again.

Well, sort of.

Because new puppy had to be housebroken. But new white puppy couldn’t be let out into the yard safely because, well, we’d lose him in all the snow if left out there on his own. So someone had to take new puppy outside, lift him up and onto the snow bank, then you’d both stand there shivering waiting for puppy to do his business, and then lift puppy up off of the snowbank, hurry back inside, where new puppy would finally be warm enough to pee in a corner.

Life lesson? “Never buy a white puppy in the middle of a blizzard. He’ll never be properly housebroken.”

God bless the dog, but he never was.

Also, bonus lesson? Never tell your kids about how one of your kids couldn’t say the word “puppy” quite right as a toddler, because that’s how your kids end up naming said white puppy “Puckie”.

I can’t believe we talked them into naming the dog Puckie. We should probably add that to our “Sorry Mom” list of apologies.

Puckie - our wire haired fox terrier that always got lost in snow

Puckie – our wire haired fox terrier that always got lost in snow

This is part of the 31 Days writing challenge…to find out more about it or read more from this challenge, check out the 31 Days page!

I got nothing

3 Sep

For two days, I’ve been trying to come up with a blog post.  But it seems the children succeeded in destroying all the brain cells over the summer.  My brain is mush.

It’s a bit sad, I had plans on being Productive once children went back to school.  Instead, I’m sitting here in a “Man, I hate waking up this early” coffee fueled haze, thinking of all I should do, and really just wanting to binge-watch something on Netflix.

The tiny dog is enjoying my sluggishness.  We took a lovely nap yesterday (considering I got five hours of sleep because I was worried I’d sleep through two different alarms, so woke up at 5:15 am).

<this blog post was interrupted by a tiny shivering dog, who needed a sweater because the weather switched from Summer to Autumn the day after some woman shaved most of the hair off the tiny dog.  Tiny dog was snuggled, and made a comfy nest of warmth to hang in while the woman contemplates making a tiny dog holder, maybe a sling so the tiny ridiculous one will stop rolling off the woman’s lap as she tries to type>

It is funny how it’s only been one day of school and suddenly we’re on Fall Schedule, weather included.  After a warm and sunny summer, it poured rain yesterday.  There was also thunder and lightning, rare for the PNW.  Maura was quite excited by the thunder.  Zoey (big dog) was not as enamored.  We got to hear the sounds of pine cones hitting the roof and deck as well.

As I was only emotionally prepared for the start of school, I realized yesterday morning that we had none of Maura’s beloved Mac and Cheese for her lunch.  She actually loves all sorts of food but is a stickler about what her main lunch item is.  I somehow conned her into a roast beef sandwich, and was happily surprised to see she ate it.

This morning, she was less than perky, and balked at the idea of any kind of sandwich other than Nutella.  I told her how she can’t have Nutella at school, it would make her friends sick.

It seems Maura could care less about her friends.  Luckily, I care enough for the both of us, and she got jam sandwich instead.  She also hated every snack I put in the box.  Then she turned her nose up at the hot chocolate I made for her that she said she wanted.

The good news is, Wednesdays are early release days, so if she doesn’t eat lunch, she’ll be home by 12:30 and can eat then.

And that there is a snippet of my exciting life.  It’s like having jet lag, without the fun souvenirs and travel tales.

Now, here’s a picture of part of Maura’s outfit today.  Behold the many colors of Maura.  She was quite proud of them all.



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