The decision to get a dog came as a surprise to some folks. Not so much to others. Poor Goofy Girl has been hearing the Doggie Debate for a good 7 years now.
In 2002 I bought a house and immediately started the Doggie Debate. The following year, X and I got married and continued the debate by adding in his favorite breed (Labradors. Not really a breed for me.) In short, this decision did not come lightly or quickly. But now? We are in a good place in life to have a dog - our kids are more independent and not a danger to the dog. They are learning to not keep their frockin' toys all over the place (seriously, the floor has not been this clean in years.) And with X and I both working from home these days, it is helping with the whole housebreaking thing (we are using the crate-training method.)
In the end, I wanted one of the breeds with which I lived the longest, breeds that I knew the best and with which I was most comfortable - a Cairn terrier or a husky. My two childhood dogs that I bonded with the most were this Cairn and the husky. End of story. And for our lifestyle, a terrier really fit the bill (although, I did not want one of those yappy, snippy, types of terriers who have "small-dog syndrome", something I will be working to avoid at all costs.) And while I did not get my first choice, a Cairn Terrier, getting a West Highland Terrier was good enough since Westies are essentially a white Cairn terrier (FYI Flash: A Cairn terrier is a "Toto dog", the same dog in the Wizard of Oz movie, although NOT the books.)
And Lucy is everything we wanted - spunky, hardy, scrappy, and very snuggly. She loves the kids and in fact, gets restless when they are asleep and she needs to play, dammit.
I was going to write a long, defensive post about why we chose not get a rescue dog (check out this irreverent take on Slate regarding the rescue movement. It's entertaining enough. "Canine-11 (Why Americans are obsessed with "resucing" dogs)" ) Then, I decided to go the Eh, Whatever routes. Seriously. That is lovely that other folks do the rescue dog thing. But it did not work out for us. And I knew exactly what sort of dog I wanted, which significantly narrowed the Rescue Dog Playing Field. Growing up, my family had all sorts of dogs - purebreed, half-breeds, plain old mutts. Terriers, shepherds, a poolie, samoyeds, huskies, and even pitt-bulls. We got them in all sorts of manners - shelters, breeders, friends, side of the road and even at an Easter egg hunt.
I did visit our animal shelter here a few times and simply did not see a dog that I wanted. I knew what I wanted and when we saw Lucy, I knew she was the right fit for our family. And while, yes, we did pay for her, we did not pay a much more than if we had gotten a dog from a shelter. No, she is not some fancy show dog and we love her unapologetically.
She was worth every penny.
June 30, 2009
June 29, 2009
What's your function?
In less than 2 weeks, Arun is using the toilet with a 99% success rate. He caught on to Function #1 within a few days - no bribing. Just positive, gentle persistence that he could do it. Function #2, however, was not coming. So, we finally offered up a bribe of a set of "spy toy walkie talkies" and Function #2 mysteriously began showing up in the toilet. 'Twas a miracle! Hallelujulah! Cue the angels on high, folks.
Still, I expect some accidents, but really, in a nutshell, that was our potty training story - The Waiting Game. Which definitely worked for us. I know there is a reasoning that there is some "window" when a child turns two and if you miss that magical portal of potty then tragedy will befall you and your loved ones. Or something like that. Eh. I think every parent needs to just listen and observe his/her child. At two, our son was not ready for potty training at two when we first began all all the Talking and Demonstrating and Bribing With Cool Underwear activities that were met with blank stares. He was not verbal enough and had absolutely none of the signs of readiness that you look for - discussion, interest, awareness, a willingness/desire to dress himself. And yes, we had loads of peers for him who, at two, were fully trained. Furthermore, his own teacher agreed that he was not ready and that it would be best to wait until this spring to start trying - winter has so many onerous layers of clothing, it makes the process tragically messy.
Frankly, an extremely affable, easy-going toddler does not make for an independent toddler. And that is okay, because I still sort of like the kid. On his good days. Hell's bells, on my own good days.
Now, Anjali? Is a different story. She is already doing the Katie Couric on her own functions and as such, demanding her own turn on the toilet (sans results, though). And this is regardless if we are at home, Costco, school, wherever. Her turn at the toilet shall not be denied.
Oh. And how do we celebrate potty training around here?
Just as the carpeting breathed a collective sigh of relief, we went out and got a puppy who needs to be housebroken.
Oh yes, we did.
Lucy Curious
Still, I expect some accidents, but really, in a nutshell, that was our potty training story - The Waiting Game. Which definitely worked for us. I know there is a reasoning that there is some "window" when a child turns two and if you miss that magical portal of potty then tragedy will befall you and your loved ones. Or something like that. Eh. I think every parent needs to just listen and observe his/her child. At two, our son was not ready for potty training at two when we first began all all the Talking and Demonstrating and Bribing With Cool Underwear activities that were met with blank stares. He was not verbal enough and had absolutely none of the signs of readiness that you look for - discussion, interest, awareness, a willingness/desire to dress himself. And yes, we had loads of peers for him who, at two, were fully trained. Furthermore, his own teacher agreed that he was not ready and that it would be best to wait until this spring to start trying - winter has so many onerous layers of clothing, it makes the process tragically messy.
Frankly, an extremely affable, easy-going toddler does not make for an independent toddler. And that is okay, because I still sort of like the kid. On his good days. Hell's bells, on my own good days.
Now, Anjali? Is a different story. She is already doing the Katie Couric on her own functions and as such, demanding her own turn on the toilet (sans results, though). And this is regardless if we are at home, Costco, school, wherever. Her turn at the toilet shall not be denied.
Oh. And how do we celebrate potty training around here?
Just as the carpeting breathed a collective sigh of relief, we went out and got a puppy who needs to be housebroken.
Oh yes, we did.
Lucy Curious
June 25, 2009
Guest Post: Bag Lady
We have a guest poster this week - my good friend Brit! I am absolutely envious of her beautiful sewing and quilting skills, so of course, she posts something that she made with her own two hands. To taunt and mock me. Evil girl, she is.
Brit can usually be found posting at Running Stitch, when she is not trying to convince her three year old that he really should be wearing pants or her five year old that it is not, in fact, going to snow in June, and that maybe instead of making a snowman they could paint!
Brit can usually be found posting at Running Stitch, when she is not trying to convince her three year old that he really should be wearing pants or her five year old that it is not, in fact, going to snow in June, and that maybe instead of making a snowman they could paint!
When Kelli started her bag entries I feigned interest, because you know, she's nice and I like her and I can force myself to look at her bag entries. I'm not really much of a bag person myself.
Except.
Except as I look around my house all I see is bags. Bags for grocery shopping, bags for library books, bags for the boys to take places full of distractions and clean clothes. Bags for biking, bags for the car, bags for lunch,bags for this sewing project, bags for that sewing project, bags for running shoes, bags for running clothes.
It's only been a few months, since I stopped carry a diaper bag. Of course now I carry a backpack full of extra clothes, because, wow! are little boys dirty. The backpack also contains bandaids, benadryl (my oldest is allergic to the world) tea (because you never know) and their medical information.
However, I have also gotten to the point where I'm going out sans boy bag often enough that I made a little bag for myself. I call it the 'Just Me" style I actually completed this over a year ago and I carry it everywhere. It is perfect for my wallet, cellphone, and change purse. And it fits right into any of the the bigger bags I perpetually
seem to be carrying.
Apparently, I am a bag lady after all.
June 24, 2009
And how does the Universe repay me for lacking faith in my fellow man?
It returns my wedding ring.
Apparently, a mother (one of the nursery employees) found my ring in her son's (wet, not dirty!) diaper.
I feel like a total goon for lacking faith and even worse, for insinuating someone took off with it.
I have learned so many lessons from this.
And not just the obvious "I will never wear my ring to the gym again" lesson.
Apparently, a mother (one of the nursery employees) found my ring in her son's (wet, not dirty!) diaper.
I feel like a total goon for lacking faith and even worse, for insinuating someone took off with it.
I have learned so many lessons from this.
And not just the obvious "I will never wear my ring to the gym again" lesson.
What's a whack and how can we get back into it?
Yesterday I sort of lost my wedding ring. Or, I had it stolen. Fine lines all over this mess, kicking my ass.
I rarely wear my rings to the gym. But since I was only doing cardio yesterday, I wore it. My cardio got interrupted because a certain little girl had a dirty diaper. Which also rarely happens. I changed the diaper, noticed the adjoining bathroom in the nursery was occupied, so I used some Purell to clean my hands. Another rarity because I loathe Purell and think its stupid. I set my ring on the changing table to apply the Purell. Also rare, because I am so paranoid about my jewelry that I usually stick it into a pocket, rather than putting them down.
Then, I walked away.
Yes, it is my fault that I set my ring down and forgot to put it back on. It still does not prevent me from being infinitely frustrated, disappointed and sick to my stomach that no one bothered to return it.
Yes, it is just a ring and my family is safe and healthy and blah blah blah blah.
Whatever. It was my wedding ring. The one blessed by a priest during a religious ceremony that meant something to the sentimentalist in me.
Sigh.
I rarely wear my rings to the gym. But since I was only doing cardio yesterday, I wore it. My cardio got interrupted because a certain little girl had a dirty diaper. Which also rarely happens. I changed the diaper, noticed the adjoining bathroom in the nursery was occupied, so I used some Purell to clean my hands. Another rarity because I loathe Purell and think its stupid. I set my ring on the changing table to apply the Purell. Also rare, because I am so paranoid about my jewelry that I usually stick it into a pocket, rather than putting them down.
Then, I walked away.
Yes, it is my fault that I set my ring down and forgot to put it back on. It still does not prevent me from being infinitely frustrated, disappointed and sick to my stomach that no one bothered to return it.
Yes, it is just a ring and my family is safe and healthy and blah blah blah blah.
Whatever. It was my wedding ring. The one blessed by a priest during a religious ceremony that meant something to the sentimentalist in me.
Sigh.
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