Monthly Newsletters: Special Dog Editions #48 and #60

Dear Scarlett,

We did not get you until the weekend of Labor day the year you were born, but your birthday is today and you turn 5 years old. You were supposed to be a Cocker Spaniel. In fact we had gone back to Canton to buy a certain Cocker Spaniel, but when we got there, your dad convinced me to look and see if any Boxers were around.

And there you were. At the bottom of the puppy pile, and you've been pretty submissive to other dogs ever since.

Right off the bat you sat in an ant bed to pee, you had demodex, and I was kind of over reactive, so your vet bills were astronomical. You are still our most expensive pet and despite the fact that you think you are a person and are apparently going through some kind of teenage angst and not minding. I would not trade you for anything.

You have your own OCD issues, you are stuck in a room if a broom stick is laying across the threshold, you prefer it if we don't move anything around.

You have tremendous patience for Landon, and nothing in this world could have predicted how much you would love him. But you do, and that alone is worth all the vet bills I have ever paid.

Love,

Mom

*******************************

Dear Fiona,

You were supposed to be a TV. There was a sign on an electric pole on our way out of the neighborhood about boxers. We didn't find what we wanted in a TV, so when we got back to the neighborhood, I called about the boxers. You were born on July 5th, but we didn't get you until early October.

There were 3 left when we got there, but one was spoken for. Clinton chose you of the two remaining. We didn't have a crate for you, so we asked them to keep you a couple more days, so we could get the supplies needed to bring you home. When we got home that evening, Scarlett went crazy. She smelled you on us, and she started looking everywhere for you. And that's how we knew we had to go back and get you.

You actually made life a little easier for us. I thought 2 dogs would be harder than one, but it turns out you wore Scarlett out with all your energy, and that meant we had less crazy to deal with. Back then we joked that we had a dog and our dog had a dog. Now we joke that one of you (Scarlett) thinks she's a person, but that you know you're a dog.

When you came home, you had never been on grass before. And while playing on it was fine with you, you had been used to doing your business on newspapers on the floor. So in addition to normal house breaking, it took us a while to get you to do your business on the grass instead of on the concrete.

You also love Landon, but you have a far lower threshold in the tolerance department for him, so when he annoys you, you retreat. We truly appreciate that, even if you never seem to get recognized for it.

Love,

Mom

****************

UPDATE ON NEIGHBOR DOG:

I got home last night to a notice on my front door. Animal Control had been by, but the officer they sent only had our address, and since he didn't see any issues, he left a note to call him. I talked to him last night and he will come check on the dog this morning. I spoke with the neighbor on the other side of this woman, and she will be home tomorrow and is going to come out and speak to the police when they get there. She and her husband are hopeful that they will take the dog. They said they have seen the woman there more often that I have, but that what she does is come around at midnight with a 20 lb bag of dog food and dumps it in a bowl and fills a bucket of water for the dog for the week. I guess we'll see.

Why you may want to reconsider buying a house next to me

I will not hesitate to call the cops on you.


On Wednesday evening when Clinton and I got home from Lowe's, he went into the backyard and discovered our neighbor's dog had knocked a board down in the fence and was in our backyard.


I'm no dog breedist, ok. Have a pit bull or Rottweiler or Doberman if you want, but treat it with respect, socialize it with other people and other dogs, or you're going to have an angry dog. And angry dogs are like live grenades, you just never know when something is going to spiral out of control.


So this dog is a chow. A chow who as far as we know, and this is also the consensus of the neighborhood, is only visited by humans once a month or so. Seriously. I see our neighbor's car at her house once every 4 weeks. She does whatever it is she does and sometimes spends one night there, but then returns to where ever the hell she came from.


During the school year, I see her daughter dropping her son off and waiting for the bus, but they never go to the backyard. That poor dog has only seen a human about once a month. Which means, he's scared to death of people and that he doesn't know any other way to react than to growl and protest.


I confess, I knew about the dog. I knew the dog was in the backyard. But I was under the assumption that...I dunno, someone looked at it every once in a while or something. At a minimum I thought, maybe she had an automatic feeder (which still may be the case). Basically, I assumed that a person with a medical degree was on top of her own pet situation. I thought for sure she had enough brain cells to get that far in life, that she must have enough to know to care for her dog.


When Clinton asked me to contain Landon so that I could help him corral the dog, I went into the backyard with the intentions of seeing a fairly healthy dog, corralling him back into his own yard and going about my business.


That did not happen. While that dog may or may not be malnourished, he is certainly not well cared for.


That dog had huge mats of fur hanging off of it. As I stated earlier, the dog is a chow, he's pretty fluffy, so there's no telling if he's malnourished. But I know this in the very depth of my soul. That dog is wearing so much extra fur in 100° weather, I'm surprised he hasn't died of heat stroke. That's how matted he is. We are not talking about your average fully furred up chow. We're talking about a dog with twice to 3 times as much hair as he should have. In knots. Pulling at his normal hair.


When I saw the condition of that dog, my first reaction was "dammit, I do not want to have to be the person that deals with this." If it were an episode of "Animal Cops: Houston." I'd be the one they're talking about when they show up and say "We got a call..."


So I called animal control. And I waited about 30 minutes and no one showed up. So I called again and specifically asked that they send someone. And while it wasn't the 12 year old I got last time, this one wasn't much older. Unfortunately, by the time he arrived, since the dog had already retreated to his own yard, there was nothing he could do legally.


He "fixed" the fence. And yes those are intentional quotes - we aren't going to be able to fix the fence without going in her yard, and we can't get into her yard until that dog is gone or contained. And said that based on my description of the situation and the dog, that he would definitely have animal control send someone out in the morning to look at the dog.

We left town the next evening, so I have no idea what happened while we were gone. I have not heard the dog, but I also have not ventured over to her driveway to see if it’s still there. I’d like to pretend they came and got him.

Also this weekend, I was wandering around the outside of the house during the fireworks war zone. And I came across an old, female chocolate lab. No collar. Scared shitless. Do people not realize that there's a reason they tell you to bring your dogs inside during fireworks? They get spooked and take off! We tried to find her owners, but were not successful. We gave her some water and in the morning she was gone. Hopefully when things settled down she was able to find her way back home.

(Lighter topics to come this week. I promise)

Monthly Newsletter #21

Dear Landon,

This month had been quite the challenge with you. Although you are beginning to say more words with some regularity; “eyes,” “bee bah” (big ball), “bese bah” (base ball), "auf bah" (golf ball), “cah cah” (car car), “dee yoo” (see you) and “seet”(sit.) Communication clearly is still not your strong suit. We have continued working on the difference between yes and no. You are saying “No!” Which would be fine if you meant “No.” But you say it in response to everything – it’s your go to answer. You even go so far as to shake your head side to side. And sometimes, you mean “Yes.” We can’t read your mind, so we generally figure it out by either the excited gleam in your eye or when we take the thing we offered back, because you said “no,” and you throw a fit because you meant “yes.”






Your curiosity is beginning to get the best of you. We are slowly but surely finding all of the hidden niches in the house that we have not yet baby proofed. You are putting your playground skills to work, climbing up on chairs and stools to reach things that previously had gone unnoticed. And silence which used to be golden is now a warning sign.

The first few times you were busted you surrendered the contraband and that was that. I took my bottle of foundation, wiped what I could out of your eyebrows and off the floor, and we went on our merry way. But your latest trick is to ditch the incriminating evidence, a la tossing a baggie of weed out the window in a police chase. And it wouldn’t be so bad if you didn’t pick things that break to toss. And while part of me realizes that maybe it was time to buy new blush anyway, I don’t wear make-up that often, and it’s hard to justify an expense on something I wear maybe once a month.

You are still hesitant in social situations. Last weekend at Carter’s there were two little girls playing at the Lego table. You moaned and groaned that you needed to be allowed out of the stroller. You had no shoes on because we forgot them at the house and we hadn’t been letting you run around shoeless in other stores, but figured at Carter’s it would probably be fine.

Once released, you took off for the Lego area, but then froze solid 5 feet back and observed the two little girls playing. You spotted a stray Lego and the wheels in your little head began to turn. That Lego was going to be your key. Your golden ticket into the play area. You picked it up and shoved it in the face of the girl nearest you. She did not know what to think about the little guy holding the Lego a half inch from her nose, and she sat still, like it was some kind of a hold up. Finally her mom said “he’s trying to give it to you.” She took the Lego and you backed into your 5 foot back position. Smiling. Proud. And it was definitely progress in the shyness department.

Eventually the other little girl left and you sat in her chair, there was some minor issue over the table – I think the original girl pulled it closer to her and her mom made her push it back so you could both reach. I tried to stay out of it, because honestly, I’m just as weird about strangers as you are, but also I think I need to allow you to carve your own path and I don’t want to be a helicopter parent. Her mom probably knew to keep an eye on her daughter for that kind of stuff anyway.

Your OCD tendencies are still alive and kickin’. I cleaned out your portion of my closet this month and when I put all your ill-fitting clothes in a plastic bin to be taken upstairs, I had 15,649 empty hangers left over. I knew you had a few items still in the washer that would need to be hung, so I hung some empty hangers along with the current clothes and put the rest up. You followed me into the closet and took all the empty hangers and put them with the old clothes. Clearly – I had not realized that the old clothes and those hangers belong together. What was I thinking?

Miss Linda says you love baby Jonah so much. You stop what you’re doing about every 30 minutes or so and go over to him and rock him in his carrier and give him a big smooch. She says you are super gentle with him and so sweet.

I think my “work-on this” item for the last 3 months has been about communicating better, and while I’d like to move on and ask for something else. Seriously – the communication thing is going to help our daily lives in ways you never even imagined.

Love,

Mama

It used to be a drinking problem

OR LOOK AT ME, I'M A SLOB

OR WHY SOME PEOPLE SHOULD GET OVER THEMSELVES AND JUST WEAR BIBS

So yesterday I was wearing clothes at work (yeah, I know, novel idea) as usual. And I dropped my lunch down my front (which, now that I think about is also...as usual). Because what better way to present yourself than to have a giant grease stain on the front of your shirt right between your boobs?

And it couldn't have happened on a better day (when is someone going to invent sarcast-a-font?), because I had no time to go home before going out to dinner with 4 other girls.

I managed to get to the restaurant area about 20 minutes early, so I went into Target to buy another shirt.

And less than 2 minutes into eating the free appetizer (sign up now! give us your email address! we'll annoy you forever, but we'll give you this free $6 appetizer!) I had cheese on my new shirt.

I used to have a back-up shirt in the diaper bag for when Landon puked on me, and when he got over that phase, I thought I was free and clear. But this morning I decided to put a back-up shirt in my truck for my own personal emergencies. And when I got in my truck to leave I noticed a very similar stain on my shirt to the one from yesterday, so I'm already wearing my back-up shirt.

Deception

At first glance, this picture looks pretty innocent. (I could have cropped tighter and gotten rid of the dog ear and some more of the background, but I'm no professional photographer.) Of course you all know I crop my pictures.



I mean, who really wants to see the crap on our bookshelves that never seems to make it to the proper place.


But the real deception of this one...


is that if Landon turns out to be a drag queen? We'll know it was probably started when I left these shoes out.

Bee Ball

What he is saying the most these days is "bee ball, bee ball." Translation: Big Ball, Big Ball.

Yesterday we went to Target and were in the toy department looking for something for Zoey's birthday. When he discovered a bin of balls and required that his daddy dig through and get a very certain ball - which happened to be at the bottom of the bin.

We tried to leave without it, but ended up having to tell him that Daddy would buy it while he and I went out to the car to change his diaper. Clint didn't buy it, buy when we got home the very first thing he did was point at the target bags and say "bee ball, bee ball."

We may very well have passed the time where we can tell him we're going to buy something and "accidentally" not buy it.

Better late than never

I had a meeting this morning with people in Norway and France. On the phone. It was a little harsh and I’m kind of surprised I’m not bleeding somewhere.

Yesterday was a little rough too, but luckily when I threatened the guy down the hall that if he didn’t lend me fifty cents to buy a diet Dr. Pepper that I would shoot people, he ponied up the money right away. Good thing too, because I didn’t want to have to go through the whole buying a gun, waiting three days, coming back to shoot people – it just wasn’t a really strong plan to begin with.

At this point I kind of just want to go home and play ball with someone even if they don't understand they're supposed to toss the ball back in the general direction of the person they're playing with.

I Wanna Dance!!!**

**Name that movie.

He stole my brownie

I went to the kitchen at work yesterday to refill my cup with water, and I spied a brownie. A leftover from a meeting.

I am not supposed to eat those brownies, I tell myself. Because, I'm like actually succeeding in this whole business of trying to be a different shape, and who wants to mess with that?

But I did want the brownie. And I said - "oooh, that's my brownie." Ok, maybe I didn't say it. Maybe I just thought it. I was planning my attack. First, I refill my cup with water, then I'll saunter by and swoop over to pick up the brownie in one smooth motion and then I'll be free and clear to run off to my office and devour the thing.

As I finished filling my cup and I turned around to begin the swoop, the guy who was getting coffee snagged my brownie. Could he not read my mind? Did he not know that was MY brownie? GAH - I needed that brownie. Or maybe I didn't. But I did want it.

I shot him in the back of the head with my laser beams when he walked away. He pretended he didn't feel it, but I know he did.

It won't be the last time they're blamed for something they didn't do

I yelled at Scarlett last Sunday for getting on the guest bed after getting in the pool and leaving a huge wet spot. I didn't want to consider what I thought was the alternative - which is that she had peed in the bed.

We were leaving town this weekend and I figured I needed to get those sheets and the quilt washed Wednesday night. And when I went to retrieve them, the bed was still wet. Very wet. And the dogs had not been in the pool. And they had been kenneled in their crates all day while we were at work. And they hadn't even been upstairs yet.

And that's when I noticed the spot on the ceiling.

And that's when I tore through the house to turn off the air conditioner. And I pulled the ladder down from the attic and I shined a flashlight on a VERY full pan of water beneath our A/C thingy.

So I stayed home from work on Thursday and waited for the A/C guy.

In a strange sequence of coincidences the main line of our A/C unit was plugged with something and slime, AND a piece of insulation had fallen into the secondary pan blocking the drain to outside, so when the main line overflowed into the backup pan, it just collected and collected until it overflowed.

And I have fallen in love with our new A/C guy - who came out the very next morning and cleaned it all up for free.

Now I just have to buy a can of Kilz and a little white ceiling paint.

--------------------------------------------------

We (the entire family) spent the weekend working on Clint's grandparents house as a mother's day / father's day / birthday present to them. Clint and I got there Friday and started on some things so that more could be accomplished on Saturday.

Clint's grandmother spent the majority of the day looking after Landon. The two of them had a great day. And she (unbeknownst to me until it was almost gone) gave him about a half a can of diet coke. And we all learned a great lesson. No caffiene. Possibly ever again. In fact, I may physically tackle anyone who tries. Otherwise they had a great day and he behaved really well for her, she even managed to get him to take a nap (pre-diet coke.)

On Saturday, the rest of the family showed up and we painted the house, there were light fixtures added, electricity was run, and limbs were cut. There was little to no drama, and the whole thing went really well.

Also, I took about 100 pictures this weekend. And 85% are grainy and blurry. I may need to spend some time with my camera.

My Fig Newton Returns

They finished and not 10 seconds later, the sky fell out.

I didn't really understand what the guy said when I asked how long we needed to leave the plastic on. But I think he said until it's pretty much dry - maybe a day. So I guess we probably won't get mail today.

They did a great job - and quick too, and he didn't leave me a phone number or anything, so I can't even recommend him to anyone.

News people make me cranky

I'm kind of cranky today.

Last night we were watching the news and several stories smacked of "This just in...water is wet!"

And is it just me or could they stop reporting how high oil could go. I mean, if I were looking to buy oil as a commodity and they were all - oh, it's still going to go up another $45 a barrel, I'd be all over buying that crap. Which means it will go up. Which means it won't go down. And if they'd shut the hell up, maybe, just maybe, it would at the very least become stagnant. News bastards.

And also, maybe I'm too cynical to watch the news anyway, because they want me to feel sorry for a woman who let her 2 small children (ages 7 and 3) play outside at the apartment complex, went inside to throw a load of laundry in and came back and the kids were gone. But then didn't report them missing until 9pm. So either, she was letting them play outside in the dark - which means she's crazy to begin with...or she waited a hell of a long time to report them missing...or you know - the truth - which is something happened to those kids and she didn't think of her cover story until 8:45. She didn't seem very upset on the video they shot of her. Which my insides tell me means that she knows where those kids are (whether they are dead or alive.)

Ok, maybe I'm not "kind of" cranky. Maybe I'm very cranky.

"This just in, my kid does actually speak, but not so much in words or anything."

He's talking about the ducks he saw and how you can see the playground from the little pier thingy in the park. What, you didn't get that when you listened? Listen again.

Welcome newbies...

I got featured on a Good Mom/Bad Mom this week for this post.

So now I have all this extra traffic, and like - nothing profound or funny or anything.

We went out to dinner and a movie Saturday night to celebrate my professionalismness. We saw What Happen in Vegas. It was cute. And predictable. But funny.

And otherwise we pretty much stayed home. Which was a nice change of pace from our normal running around craziness.

I put my Home Inspector stuff in a backpack to start carrying around with me, so that when I have down time, I can study. I'm going to make a study plan today. (Why yes I do have a plan to make plans.) So we can move forward on that front.

Piece of cake

This is where the artsy fartsy in me and the engineer do not get along.

Here's my cake:

I was kind of disappointed that they just used the copier thingy of my picture that I had given them. But all the engineers on the project were sooooooo impressed that it looked just like a seal.

I didn't know if you wanted chocolate or vanilla, so I got you a piece of each.

This just in...I'm not 12 anymore.

Dude, I have been going around promising cartwheels to people for making me happy for a long time now and no one has actually followed up on that. Thank god.

So uh...I tried, but really, it's pretty clear I haven't done a cartwheel in like 18 years. It's kind of hard on the wrists. And also, I cannot for the life of me get my legs to cooperate in the staying straight department.

So here's take 1:

And take 2:

And finally the best I did on video:

And shortly after this, I did what Clinton called my very best one, and of course he was not recording.

I did order the cake, I'm picking it up at lunch, so there will be pictures and a virtual piece of cake for you after lunch.

Actual conversations with my husband

“What’s wrong with you?”

“I have a headache. Actually it might be meningitis.”

“Meningitis? Why would it be meningitis?”

“Because my neck is stiff.”

“Oh, well then I’ve had meningitis for years.”

“Well why the hell did you give it to me?”

“Because I can.”

*******************************************

(This is based on a sign giving silver alerts (like amber alerts but for elderly people) that we both see on the way home from work. It generally says something cryptic like “MISSING ELDERY BLUE BUICK TEMPLE, TX.”)

“Good god, another elderly Buick is missing.”

“There have been a lot of those in the past 6 months.”

“You’d think there’d be a better way to find a stolen car.”

“I know, and apparently they’re not classic cars, they’re elderly.”

Big Helper

I didn't take these pictures. In fact I wasn't even around when this was going on, but I'm pretty sure I can narrate. Let's just say I was busy and leave it at that.

Yeah, busy. Wanna make something of it?

Anyway.

Hey...somebody left a tool bag open.

Good, I was looking for a couple hammers.





Now...what can I hammer?







This looks pretty secure.



This could use a little bit of hammering.

Nothing was damaged in the making of this post. Which is not to say that I would leave him unsupervised with a hammer or two - because good lord think of the possible destruction! Not that I would know if it had been. As I said. I was busy.

I don't wanna brag

But, yeah, I kind of do.

Remember how I said that like there'd be cake and cartwheels?

Stay tuned.

Hopefully tomorrow - possibly Thursday - I guess it depends on the bakery.

Lake Dogs

One of the perks of my parents’ Lake House is that it’s secluded enough that we can let our dogs run free and we don’t worry about them. Everyone out there has dogs, and everyone out there lets them run around, so they’re on the look out for them when driving.

For a dog that will absolutely not deign to enter the pool, Fiona LOVES the lake. Probably because it’s a gradual entry instead of a step.

They will run and jump and play for hours and hours.

Until they fall over from sheer exhaustion.

It’s the Final Countdown…

So, I have some boring updates to post about various things going on in our lives.

#1 – Mailbox guy appears to have been a Fig Newton of my imagination. Which is sad, but I kind of expected it.

#2 – I got permission to take the inspector test from TREC. So I just need to set aside 50,000 bazillion hours to study for it. My final absolute deadline is 11/18/08 – and I have three chances. My plan is to study for a month or so and then take it. And we’ll go from there. I have to make an 80% and then I have to find some E&O insurance. For this test, I will know my results immediately, so I will know if I need to go back home and study some more.

#3 – My PE results will be in any day now. (Historically it would have been last week, but due to the change in the test format, I’m going to say at least 2 more weeks.) There will be cake and cartwheels if the results are good. There will be tears and fit throwing and cursing if the results are bad. I do not wish to speculate.

#4 – I have lived in Texas for my entire life and never seen a live armadillo until Sunday when we took Landon to the park and this guy was just out wandering around in the park. He even stopped to pose for Clinton to take a picture.

#5 – I started this morning with the prospect of actually maybe getting to work early. And then my coke fell out of my lunch bag and hit the glidey thing that the passenger seat slides on and punctured the can on my way to drop off Landon. And I got showered with coke, so I had to go home and change and wipe the entire cab of my truck down. Nothing makes me later than being just a little bit early. This had better not be a sign of how this week is going to go.


#6 - I printed 223 pictures for Landon's scrapbook this weekend. I sorted them and stuffed them in the pages where they go. One day I'll go back and put them in nicely and maybe add some captions. If he's lucky.

My yard is full of penises

Did you know that some trees are male and some are female?

It's not true of all trees, because some contain both girly and boy parts. But those are boring. The two I can think of off the top of my head are banana trees and sago palms.

We have sago palms in our yard.

We have a lot of them. When they reach puberty, they grow their sex organs and let them all hang out in the open. We have three females, that look like this:

The seeds are in the "flower" - which is that ball on top.

The boys look like this:

Sometimes the boys get to a certain height and split. We like to refer to them as twins.

And then this happened:

On a tree that last year contained a single male cone. There are 12 cone points (at least). Duodecaplets.

And not just regular duodecaplets.

At least 8 of them are melded together. Siamese duodecaplets.

I don't even want to think about the trimming we will have to do when 12 sets of leaves try to emerge from this poor guy after the cones fall off.

Sewage, mailboxes, and inmates - in 3 hours or less

Monday held the weirdest random events I have ever had in the space of just a few hours.

I got home to a toilet bowl with low water in the bowl. This is not a good sign. I flushed. The water rose. And rose. And rose. And thankfully did not over flow. I plunged and plunged and plunged and absolutely nothing happened.

When Clint got home and he mentioned casually - "Hey maybe that's why the stuff was in the bathtub." "the stuff?" "You know, when the sewer backs up?"

I stupidly decided to check the other toilet downstairs. The water was, of course, low, I flushed. The water rose. And rose. And rose. And did over flow.

I had Clint go out to the cleanout and open it up. Last time, this cleared the pressure and the whole shebang was over. He said we had standing water at the cleanout. Bad news.

So I called the water district. They said they would send someone out. Good news. 2 hours later he showed up. Bad news. It was on their side and they fixed it. We're flushing with the best of them now! Good news.

In the midst of this, the doorbell rang. Two little kids asked me if I wanted a brick mail box. Well, heck yeah - but the last guy quoted me $850. $850!! So I was skeptical. Clinton had gone to pick up Landon, and since we had already bought the material to build the metal mailbox, I didn't want to make this decision on my own. I mean, his price was $200. I hemmed and hawwed, and in the mean time Clinton arrived home. I summoned him out to the front yard and as soon as the words "for two hundred dollars" were out of my mouth. He was all "do it!" DO IT! DO EEET!


We speculated as to why this guy could be so much cheaper, we decided maybe he's a bricklayer and out of work because of the housing market. Whatever, he's probably an illegal alien and I just dashed any 4th grade hopes I had of becoming president. I'm sticking with my first story though.

He said he'd be back Tuesday afternoon to do it...but he wasn't. So I guess we'll see. I didn't give him any money or anything, so if he just disappears into thin air, it's not like I lost anything out of the deal.

Also, while waiting the 2 hours for the water guy, we recieved about 6 bazillion phone calls from strange numbers and pay phones. 4 from a pay phone at the Harris County jail. And 2 from a woman who seemed to believe that Ina or Ezza lived with us, despite the fact that I kept telling her she had the wrong number. The second time, she didn't hang up before saying "Damon, she says I have the wrong number." Poor Damon, asked a girl for her number, can't exactly remember her name, and totally got given a fake number - he just can't catch a break. 1 was from the guy they were sending out - which we were expecting, so I had to keep answering all of them, because who knows what number the sewer guy is going to call from.

Anyway, for the jail house calls (which showed up simply as "PAY PHONE") I did not accept the charges, so I hope no one I know is in jail. If it was you, sorry about that, but honestly, if I'm the only person you can call, you've got bigger issues.

One time a long time ago, I did accept charges from a similar call - mostly because it was during a time period where it was a real possibility that someone we knew may have been in jail. (It was not them.) But the guy gave me some sob story about being in an accident, having a warrant, being arrested and something about a baby, and how he'd dialed the wrong number and they wouldn't let him make another call, so could I please call his mother - her extension was *72, but I had to dial it first. He was pretty convincing, he probably should be an actor or salesman. Nevermind that I have some experience using this new fangled telephone-talky machine, and I'm pretty sure there's no way to dial an extension before you dial the number, so I didn't. Thank goodness I'm suspicious like that - because when I looked it up on the internet I figured out exactly what he was up to - *72 makes it so that he can make calls from his number and charge them to my phone bill. So I was glad to hear they added this to the little recording "you have a collect call from an inmate at the Harris County Jail. If an inmate asks you to make a call pressing *72, this is a scam and may result in excess charges to your phone bill..." I worried about the little old ladies who would get his call and just do exactly as he said.

Monthly Newsletter #20

Dear Landon,

Seriously? It’s been a whole month?

Huh.
Ok…well, let’s see. You are beginning to say more recognizable words. Still not enunciating or anything, but definitely saying them. You don’t always remember that a “yes” head movement is up and down, and sometimes when you mean yes, you shake your head side to side.

You are all about legos. We went down a size to the duplo ones. Do you have any other toys? You don’t know. Or you don’t care. You are all about the legos. Putting them together, taking them apart. “Whatever, you are saying, I can’t hear you, I am playing with my legos.”


Also. Balls. Or “ball, balls” as you say it.

Never you mind that little ponytail you have. It's not something we do on a regular basis. You saw Zoey get hers and insisted on having one of your own. We obliged thinking you would rip it straight out. But you didn't. You wore it for a few hours, before you decided it worked better as a bracelet.

We took you to the zoo this month and while looking at the elephants you started hissing. “sssst, ssst.” We asked you if you were calling the elephants and you just smiled. Now every time you see a picture of an elephant or a toy elephant and we ask you how do you call an elephant, you make the “ssst, ssst” noise. It’s almost as cute as when we tell you to “hulk up” and you tighten your fists and lift your shoulders.

Your father and I found the secret to your shoe success. We went to the Stride Rite Outlet and bought 2 pair of shoes for the price of your last 1 pair of shoes. You did manage to wear that first pair for a long time, and I appreciate that greatly. We’re going to aim for the same this time around too. So let us have a couple months with your new shoes, that’s all I’m asking.



Love,
Mama

Geocaching

So, Mom pointed out that there's a state park within reasonable driving distance of their lake house and maybe there was something I could do with the girls there that would qualifiy for a "mystery activity." So I looked up the geocaches in that area and I found 3 in the state park and 3 at the historical site for which the park is named.

And because I know from experience that you don't always find the geocache the first time out, I recruited Clinton to help me "pre-find" the geocaches.

We went to the state park, which was beautiful. We parked, and everyone was ceremoniously sprayed with bug spray.

We set our sites on what I thought would be the easiest to find. And didn't find it. We found the coordinates, but no cache was to be found. It happens, sometimes the whole shebang is missing, and sometimes, it's just really well hidden. I should have looked at the pictures before we went. I now think I know where that thing was and we were pretty much right on top of it.

We kind of half ass looked for the second one, and never even came close to the coordinates. But we did have a nice walk and find a pier thingy to look out over the lake.

We drove to the historical site, and without getting out of the truck, I found that we would easily get at least one of those two and I have a general idea of one other. We didn't even bother with the first one, because it mentions barking dogs, and we had our two with us.

One lesson learned? Geocaching is much harder with a toddler and 2 dogs, even if you have an extra adult person. Geocaching as a family may have to wait another year or so until Landon can better understand that we're not out there just to whine in the woods.