How Do you Solve a Problem Like Ellie?

Last week I was seriously considering finding a new home for Ellie. I haven't really dared let myself go there before. I always secretly wondered what kind of person could give their dog up, and now I know. One that is on the brink of insanity and is searching for some sort of peace and quiet and clean.

This weekend Ellie's fate was determined by the sentimental movie Marley and Me. I think me reading the book last year got her through my last temptation to be rid of her and all the trouble she brings. So we will see how long this saves her as one of Team Schwark. Anyhow, teary eyed and hopes bolstered I renewed my vow to keep her.

I mean really, how much less color would our lives have with out her? I forgot to mention in my last post while she thwarted the babysitter and was out on the lamb she decide it would be a good idea to also roll in dog poop. So not only did she have to be caught, once home she had to be bathed. This poor woman who is trying to watch my kids now has to deal with scrubbing poop off my dog. This was definitely not in the notes I left.

Then to top off the weekend Ellie decided to get stuck under the house today. Steve and I are painting the boys room upstairs. I have the window open so I can hear Ellie and Aiden playing in the backyard. After a little while of silence I decide to go down and check on them. I peered around the corner of the house to find Aiden standing next to Ellie, saying sweet calming things, "It is okay Ellie, you can get out Ellie, come on Ellie you can do it." Ellie replied with pitiful whimpering and whining, insisting she was indeed stuck. It looked like Lassie reversed. Ellie has never had a clear vision of herself being the hero.

Anyway, I hollered up to Steve who came and assessed the situation, went to get a shovel, and I a camera. He dug her out. At least she is moping around the house looking like she feels stupid.

Seriously, what a dull house without Ellie to constantly wreak havoc, destroy toys, spread dirt, mud, and poop. Don't forget how much I love her when she barks at...nothing, and wakes up sleeping kids.

How do you solve a problem like Ellie? You don't, you just try to survive her.

Going Away

Our view during breakfast

I am beyond excited that the hubby and I get to go away for one night this weekend. I seem to wait until my breaking point from exhaustion and over exposure until I change something. So, this is the first time in 3 1/2 years that Steve and I will be spending the night away from the kids.

Just so you know a little bit more about how neurotic I am, I decided while writing this that I would not post it until we came back in case some stranger (I am sure I have quite an extensive blog reader list, not) decided to take advantage of our parental absence and steal our children or harass our babysitter.

Anyway, back to my point. We are going away, dinner, spas, massages, no one asking to go potty in the middle of the night, no replacing pacifiers in hopes of 30 more minutes of sleep. I may never come back....

Okay, with a little coaxing, and a look at the bill for one night, I decided to return home. It was so AWESOME!

I had absolutely no anxiety leaving the kids. Which I believe is due mostly to the fact I was leaving them in such capable hands. Nolen was napping, and Aiden gave me kiss and told me he would miss me. Off we went, just the hubby and me.

Our arrival was prompt, and valet was a perk. I always feel very fancy when someone else takes my car and parks it. Check in was lovely, we were offered savory candy, and given directions to room 205. The room was lovely. The resort is lovely. Filled with all sorts of beautiful rock and wood work and touches of nature. It is very peaceful.

We hung out in the room for a few minutes, then off we went to take advantage of the tea and cookies in the library. It was very quiet, and the fire was going. I sipped orange tea and ate lemon cookies and Steve and I played tic tac toe. I really started to think I may have slipped into a Jane Austen novel.

Back to the room to change into our spa attire. The first trip up and down the hallway, in the elevator, past several people, up to the spa, seemed a little awkward in a terry cloth robe and flip flops, but that is what the staff encouraged. And of course, when in Rome...

The spa was so relaxing. The sound of cascading water drowned out any conversation. The large hot tubs made of rock, and the lemon water for sipping all helped to ease any tension we had arrived with. Of course, I can not participate in grown up activity with out embarrassing myself at least slightly. Being 35 weeks pregnant I could not soak for long in the hot water and I tried to gracefully sit on the ledge next to the pool, so I could dangle my legs in the water, but not over heat. Well, I am not graceful even when I am not largely pregnant, so when I ever so delicately sat down, some entirely mortifying noise was created by the suction between my butt and the wet stone. Yes, it sounded like the biggest wettest fart you could imagine. Not even the cascading noise of the water fall drowned it out from the couple at the other end of the tub hearing. I couldn't just pretend it didn't happen, so I said, with the color in my face rising, "It wasn't me, it was the stone". By the looks on their faces I am pretty sure I wasn't convincing. But hey, what is a relaxing soak in the spa without a giant fart noise to liven things up.

Anyhow, we left shortly after, nothing to do with wanting never to see those people again, which we did at dinner a mere two hours later.
Dinner was good. Very good. The service was fabulous. I have never had someone switch out napkins so the napkin would match my pants, but they think of everything at this place. Crumbs were promptly scrapped away, drinks were refilled timely. The atmosphere was that of sophistication and elegance. And we were able, hang on to your hats folks, TALK! We had two whole hours of conversation! And we actually talked about things other than poop, and teething, and preschool choices.

Back to the room for an uninterrupted viewing of Marley and Me. How fun is it to watch a whole movie without taking someone to the potty?

A night of quiet, uninterrupted sleep, except of course the many trips to the bathroom one has to make while pregnant.

The next morning the breakfast was, if possible, even better than dinner. A breathtaking view of the falls and mountains, gorgeous blue sky, which no one from western Washington ever takes for granted, and a rainbow to tie it all together. I cant say enough about the food, sure I may be biased due to the fact I would eat a horse if I could fit it in my stomach, but seriously the food, good. And the service, man everyone was so nice, and helpful, and not snooty at all.

Oh, I forgot to mention the magical part of the place. It was the tiny little silverware which made me feel like a giant, and the giant spa chairs that made me feel like a tiny kid. Not too many places make you think you may have dropped into some sort of Alice and Wonderland. Can you tell I don't frequent sophisticated venues all that often? I think I may have given myself away as some sort of hill billy.

Okay, last but not least, the couples fireside massage. Cool, but would have been just as good if I were by myself, no offence husband. It was everything you could want in a massage. Plus, they even had a table with a big belly cut out so I could lay on my stomach. This of course did little to ease my breathing panic issues, but I was able to mostly relax after the first 20 minutes of debating whether or not to jump up and run out.

So, night away without the kids, priceless.

And a big shout out to Deb who watched the kids, and the dog, who incidentally ran away (the dog, not the kids), and had to be chased down by car, and lured home with treats. Ellie, it is a good thing we picked Marley and Me, you have a little extra grace because of a sentimental movie. Dont push your luck though.

Aiden builds and builds and builds

Aiden has been building barricades for a long time now. I am so annoyed by it, I cant remember when he started.

He blocks off all entrance and exits, he makes it impossible to get to the bathroom without climbing, moving, or stubbing your toe on something. He does it quietly, and swiftly and then proudly announces "look mom".

I have spanked, sent him to his room, yelled, and almost cried for him to stop. All this to no avail.

I have worried that I am stifling some sort of career. Fortress maker?

I don't know what to do about it, but I really really hate being barricaded to different parts of my house.

Are you sure your not having twins?

Is there really ever a time that is appropriate to tell someone, "gosh you are really big"? No, no there is not. And some people think that when one is pregnant it is free reign to comment on appearance. I am pretty sure no one ever wants to be told they look really big. And if a person is big, or bigger than they normally are, they know it. Trust me, you informing them of their additional size is not enlightening them to something totally new.

I think the most dangerous time to comment on someones size is when they are pregnant. There are many more hormones racing around a very tired, overwhelmed, and exhausted body. Especially, when one has gone to much trouble to shower, and appear presentable all whilst wrangling two other small children who are hell bent on making sure their mother never looks like she has seen a hair brush or makeup.

Let me give you some advise, only say things like: You look wonderful. You are so tiny! You look amazing. OR novel idea, say nothing at all - haven't you people ever heard "if you don't have something nice to say, then don't say anything at all". PLEASE. Yes, I am oversensitive, I am pregnant with my THIRD child. I do on some level understand that these comments are not intended to hurt my feelings, and the person offering them is only trying to make a keen observation. But lets talk about the weather instead.

Okay, I am done with my rant. For now.

It Was Just Odd

This happened awhile ago, but I still think about it almost every time I take exit 20 off 405 south. The same homeless man is almost always standing on the corner of the off ramp at the light. He usually has a sign that says "Homeless and Hungry".

I generally am very skeptical of these people. I think, go get a job, do something besides take advantage of people. I am also confronted with my own fears of ending up like him. I don't think that much actually separates our lives. I am plagued with guilt for not sharing what I have.

My mom gives these people stuff all the time. Never money though. She will hand a half eaten granola bar out the window and they are so appreciative.

I on the other hand deliberated about what I could share for weeks before our next meeting. I finally settled on a big box of Costco crackers. I was nervous as I rolled down my window. He walked up hopefully and I hoisted up my treasure. Surely he had never seen such generosity! His smile quickly turned to a frown. "I cant take that, it is too big" "I could never eat all that."
WHAT? the sign says HUNGRY!! I say, "Oh, well just take one of the little packages then." "No, no, no thanks" he says as he turns away disappointed that I wasn't giving him money I guess.

My gift rejected by a homeless man.

I felt really silly, and also a little vindicated. I don't think this was a good thing to happen to me. Now I have to work twice as hard on my compassion.

Just weird that I couldnt give a hungry man a cracker. Weird.

For Better Or Worse

Some kind person sent this to me anonymously - Uncle Ken :)
I actually tell Aiden something very close to this when I am getting ready. So far, he hasnt been whitty enough to come up with the same response, but I am sure it is in the works.

Rocky

Nolen had three bad days where the pavement clearly won the fight. He fell and knocked his forehead, then he fell and bruised his cheek, which turned into a pretty green/black eye eventually, and then he fell again and hit the same spot from two days earlier.

I dont know whether it is good or bad that he keeps going right back to the seen of the crime. Is it persistence or stupidity?

Either way, I felt like I had to tell everyone we saw I wasn't beating him.

Poor guy.