God's Faithfulness, Cravings, and Flat Tire Stories

I considered skipping a "last day of the year" post, but also considered how sad that would be. Tatum started my morning just wonderfully by putting her big ol' paw in my bowl of noodles. Thankfully, I was full and not going to finish them anyway AND there was no soup in them. But nonetheless, the noodles were scattered on the couch. Sabre and Tatum got their first (and hopefully last) taste of Indomie, and seemed to rather enjoy it. And I was glad I didn't have as much clean up to do. Hopefully it's not a glimpse of what this last day of 2013 holds for me. You see, on my last day of being twenty-three, we drove to Dallas to be with family. And on this wonderful drive we got a flat tire, so Travis put the spare on and we were on our way. Then the spare went flat, and we don't have multiple spares, so we called our insurance roadside folks and told them the situation. They were going to have to send a tow truck...until they asked how many people were in the car. "Two adults and two German Shepherd dogs." Hm... they won't tow your car with dogs aboard. Anyway, long story short, we just happened to be by a random house and asked if we could borrow their spare tire to drive into Hillsboro to get our tire fixed. They were very kind and allowed us to do so. We got our tire fixed, found out our spare was awful and should never be used again, returned the borrowed spare tire, and finished our trip to Dallas--a drive that usually takes an hour and twenty minutes instead took four hours. Such fun. So, here's to hoping that the last day of 2013 is better than my last day of being twenty-three. If that makes any sense at all. :)

As typical as it may be to "reflect on the year" in a blogpost, I think I'll do it anyway. In bullet form, just to make it easier to get through.

In January...
   -Travis started his final semester of college--a very busy semester, I might add.

In March...
   -We up and decided to get another puppy! Tatum was born March 1st! (Though she didn't come home with us for 7 more weeks.)

In April...
   -Tatum joined the family!!

In May...
   -I left my job at a local elementary school because once our apartment lease was up in the middle of May, we were homeless!
   -Travis graduated from Baylor!
   -As previously stated, we had no home and no jobs (it's difficult to have a job when you have no where to live. hah!), so we moved into my grandparent's house while they traveled for a few weeks in May & June.

In June...
   -Travis heard back from Caterpillar about a full-time position--he got the job! In about a week, we found out about the job, found a house to rent (after discovering that no one wants to rent to you when you have German Shepherds--meanies!), moved back to Waco, and Travis started his new job.

In September...
   -I got a very part-time job watching a little boy four days a week for a couple hours each day. Yay for getting out of the house occasionally!
   -We found out I was pregnant and proceeded to live in relative misery (hah!) while I battled constant morning sickness till sometime in November.

In October...
   -Got to see my mom for the first time in nearly two years!

In November...
   -Got to see my dad for the first time in nearly two years!
   -Spent a wonderful Thanksgiving with everyone on my dad's side of the family.
   -Finally found some much needed relief from the nausea/vomiting. That in and of itself made the end of the year wonderful! :)

In December...
   -We spent Christmas with almost everyone on my mom's side of the family. It was wonderful!
   -It was wonderful having my parents in the states for the holidays this year. A definite highlight!

When I look back at all of that, I can't help but see how incredibly faithful God has been to Travis and me this year. There were times when I honestly wasn't sure what He was thinking and how He was going to get us through certain months. But He knows what's best and in the end, it really was a great year of change, growth, and new beginnings.

And now we're embarking into 2014. I can already tell it's going to be a big year. That might have something to do with the baby growing inside of me. :) That in and of itself is going to bring plenty of challenges and excitements. Before I got pregnant, I told God I wanted to start a family in His timing, no matter when that might be. And just a month later, I was pregnant. So I took that as His way of saying, "And that time is now."

Speaking of the baby, if you're interested in baby news, here's what I've got for you:
-I love dill pickles on ham sandwiches with mustard. With plain potato chips on the side.
-My bump is fully visible now... at least I think it is. And I think Travis is enjoying being able to say, "Wow, your belly looks bigger today!" without negative repercussions.
-My family (mostly the sisters and cousins) are casting votes on boy or girl. It's fairly close at this point. There might be a couple more votes for a boy. We'll find out the truth on January 10th. :)
-I love oranges. I can't fully explain it. They just have to be the most refreshing fruit in the world.
-Maternity clothes are surprisingly comfortable.

After mentioning oranges, I now want one. However, the dogs just fell asleep a few minutes ago and if I get up, they'll get up. Especially Tatum. She loves oranges. Travis is still sleeping. And I have some laundry to fold. Ah, to be on vacation.

A Baby Bump to Boot and Trees that Smell Wonderful

Time has flown by, it seems. (A statement I never thought I'd make during the first 10 weeks of my pregnancy...) December has arrived and very nearly passed, and I'm only just now writing. Some wonderful things have happened this month. I convinced my husband to buy a real Christmas tree and discovered that I have a great love for the smell of Evergreen trees. The smell of the tree couldn't fill the vastness of our living room for very long, so I've now gone through one and a half pine scented candles. And I've requested more for Christmas. We bought plastic tree ornaments since we weren't sure how the dogs would handle the glowing tree with sparkly balls all over it. Sabre only stole four ornaments, and only one was destroyed. He especially likes the glittery gold ball at the bottom of the tree, but has refrained from taking it off after the first time. He still smells it on occasion though. He's learning. Tatum doesn't go near the tree. We told her "no" the first time she tried, and she's stayed away since. Such different personalities.

My parents visited for a couple days this week. Sabre loved them! They got quite the morning greeting whenever they woke up. Hah. Sabre even sat on my mom's lap one morning. Her right leg fell asleep. I don't think she's accustomed to 80 pound dogs sitting on her lap. :) We did some Christmas shopping all over town, and I insisted my parents try Schmaltz's Sandwich Shoppe for lunch. It was absolutely delicious! If you've never had it, you need to come here and try it. Now.

This week my baby bump suddenly appeared. Up until now I've looked a tiny bit pregnant to me, but to everyone else I'm fairly certain it just looked like I ate a really big meal. I visited my old work place yesterday (an elementary school). I was surprised by how many kids remembered me. One of the little girls ran up, hugged me, took a look at my belly and said, "Are you gonna have a baby soon?" You can always count on children to say it like it is! :) It's been difficult to consider a growing belly as a good thing, but hopefully once I feel some movement in there, it will feel more purposeful. We find out whether we're having a boy or a girl in January. I can't do the waiting thing. I applaud those that do, but I'm just not one of those people.

My pregnancy diet is not something to brag about. I ate a carrot yesterday though. [Gold star for me.] I've had a difficult time changing my eating habits. I love french fries and fast food a bit too much it seems. But it's gradually getting better. Prenatal vitamins are ridiculous monstrosities! Those pills taste awful and are big enough to get lodged in someone's throat! (Maybe not, but they sure look like it.) I tried to get some prescription pills that are much smaller, but they were going to cost $112 a month. For vitamins. Come on, People! Overall though, my second trimester of pregnancy has been far more enjoyable than the first. Thank goodness!

Today I plan to wrap presents without allowing the dogs to steal all the paper, and resist the overwhelming urge to pick up some fries and wings for lunch today. ;)

A Tiny Heartbeat, A Powerful Sniffer, and A Wonderful Husband

My first trimester of pregnancy is almost over. The end is in sight. Just a couple weeks to go. I'm trying to convince myself to ignore "trimester" weeks and just focus on whether I'm feeling good or not, but it's hard. I've heard these wonderful things about the second trimester. Less sickness, more energy, less exhaustion, feelings of affection for food again! All these things sound wonderful! And what gives me hope is that, despite a few days of rather unfortunate nausea and vomiting, I've had some good days recently. On Saturday, for example, I left the house just before 1:00 pm and basically didn't get home till almost 7:00. Go me! I felt so good on Saturday that we actually went to a movie! And I didn't get sick the entire day. There was a small part of me that wanted to vomit on the ticket-tearing guy at the theatre (well, on his shoes...) because he wouldn't let me take my water bottle inside. I know it's like a widely known rule that movie theatres don't allow outside food or drink... but it was water, Guys. So I really wanted to vomit on his shoes and then look at him tearfully and say, "You see? If I'm vomiting all the time, I need my water to keep me hydrated." Perhaps it was a tad melodramatic, but I'm using pregnancy hormones as an excuse to feel extremely angry that he wasn't going to let me keep my water. Which I did anyway. I just walked away, planned to ask for an empty cup to pour my water into before I realized I could just put the water bottle in my purse. Oh the drama.

Today was another good day. I had an appointment. Short and sweet. We got to hear our baby's heartbeat. My doctor says everything sounds good and baby is very active. Something to look forward to...maybe. I went shopping for some birthday presents. I like shopping in cool weather. There's something about bundling up in warm clothes and going shopping that makes me happy. I always think a nice hot cup of hot chocolate sounds good while walking through stores... but I don't really drink much hot chocolate. So I'm not sure where that idea is coming from.

I have found that pregnancy and dogs don't mix very well. My heightened sense of smell has me hating the dog smell. I never noticed it before, because we keep the dogs pretty clean. But now I have a more powerful sniffer that has me cringing when the dogs come too close to me. And their fur is driving me crazy! It's everywhere! I'm very much looking forward to the holidays simply because we're boarding the dogs and staying in a fur-free home. Ah, the little things in life. Hopefully my aversion to the dogs will pass. Once upon a time, I really loved them, so I know it's possible. And they do seem to love me. And they try to protect me. Just now, for example, Sabre heard something outside. He barked at the front door for a while before running back to the couch and standing right in front of me while continuing to bark. Tatum was sitting in front of me too. I don't know if it's a protective thing or just instinct to stay together when there's a potential threat. But either way, I had a barrier of dogs between me and whatever was outside the front door (which, to be perfectly honest, was probably nothing), so I felt very safe.

My parents arrive in the states on Saturday. We are going to Dallas for the weekend to a.) see them; b.) celebrate my sisters' birthdays; and c.) because I'm extremely excited to stay in a fur-free home for a couple days with delicious homemade food. My wonderful husband, bless his heart, has done absolutely everything around here. Just the other day, as soon as he woke up, he cleaned the house. He washed the dishes, wiped down the counters, swept the floors, vacuumed the carpet, put clean sheets on the bed, and so many other things I can't even think of them all. He makes me lunch everyday, and dinner on the weekends. Needless to say, I'm also looking forward to this weekend because it gives Travis a break. And it brings us a little closer to the morning sickness finish line (we hope and pray!), so I'll finally be able to do some things for myself. And help keep the house clean. And just function like a normal human being.

I bought a gallon of McAlister's sweet tea. And a bag of lemons. You do the math.

The Green Green Glow of Pregnancy

So when you decide to stop taking "the pill," most everything you read and everyone you talk to tells you it can take a little while to get pregnant. People tell you to give it a year before you start wondering if everything's OK with your reproductive organs. Others tell you that since you were taking said pill, it can take your body a little while to get "back to normal." I took all this very wonderful advice and prepared myself for whatever was to come. And even though I told my husband that we shouldn't go off the pill until we were completely ready to have a baby, I didn't actually think we'd get pregnant a month later. I really didn't. But we did. And all I can think at this point is "praise the Lord I didn't get pregnant our first year of marriage!" Or second for that matter. My husband would have thought he married a crazy person. I've learned a few things about early pregnancy (well.. early pregnancy for me, anyway) and they're, well... they're below.

1. When you start throwing up two weeks before you've missed a period, you're in for it. (I mean, I started getting sick so early in this pregnancy that I didn't even think it could be related to pregnancy.) And when you're sick that early, you have lots of time for it to get worse... and worse... and worse. Till you're sick all day, everyday, and you find yourself forgetting what it feels like to be healthy.

2. When you are sick all day everyday from all these extra hormones, sometimes these hormones display themselves in the form of tearful breakdowns about how awful it is to feel so sick all the time, and how you're going to be a terrible mother because you no longer want to be pregnant. Ah, the joys.

3. After throwing up certain foods multiple times, you are no longer able to eat them. Even your favorite foods. Like Indomie.

4. You are exhausted in a way that you've never been exhausted before. You sleep at least 10 hours every night, and feel like napping multiple times throughout the day. And yet, somehow.. you still feel tired.

5. Excessive vomiting can lead to a sore throat. It's grand.

6. You no longer enjoy eating. It's now something you have to do because if you don't, you might get sick. But once you do eat, you still might get sick. Food in general has lost its appeal.

7. When everything feels like it's falling apart and you just want to sleep through the next unknown number of weeks until you feel better, remember this song:
     Lord, prepare me
     To be a sanctuary
     Pure and holy
     Tried and true
     With thanksgiving
     I'll be a living
     Sanctuary
     For You

And strive to do just that. Because even though this has been one of the hardest journeys I've ever started (I've literally only just begun!), I know that God is in control. I prayed before all of this and said, "Lord, I'm not going to pray that I'll get pregnant. I'm praying that I'll get pregnant in YOUR time. And I'll trust that if this happens, it's part of YOUR plan, not mine."

And now that I'm no longer "suffering in silence" (although if you ask my husband I don't think he'll say I've been all that silent...hah!), I'm hoping I can turn my frustrations into comical anecdotes. It's like Sabre peeing in the car. It wasn't a great experience... but it made for a funny story and it helped change my outlook a great deal. And eventually, I hope things will get better and the tone of my pregnancy will be far more positive and fun. :)

On a side note, Skittles needs to get their act together and bring back the lime skittle. This green apple business is absurd.

Five and a Half Years Later and I'm Still Craving Cafeteria Food

I'm trying to be more organized. It's been in process for years. I'm pretty sure I've posted before about my desire to be a better grocery shopper. Unfortunately, I haven't improved in this area at all. My poor husband has been making grocery runs at least once a week for a while. He's started going when he gets off work at 2:30 in the morning. Apparently no one does their shopping at that time. Who would've thought?

All day today I've been trying to think of meals we could have. We eat a lot of spaghetti, but it's sauce from a jar. Granted, it's delicious HEB sauce and it's very convenient, but today I got a hankering for a different spaghetti. I want the spaghetti from my middle/high school cafeteria. This may not be the story for most people, but the lunches they served in the cafeteria were amazing. And one of my favorites was their spaghetti. It was so delicious. I never understood my fellow students complaining about the school lunches. I wish I could have the recipes for so many of the meals they served. One of which is spaghetti. I've yet to have spaghetti I've liked as much. I also loved their Potato-Corn Soup with Grilled Cheese, Beef and Potatoes with Rice, Tacos, Beef Stew, Risotto (which wasn't risotto at all, but it was delicious!), Nasi Kuning (Yellow Rice) with Fried Chicken, and I'm sure there were others. Sigh. Those wonderful cafeteria ladies sure knew how to cook. I always thought when I moved to the states I'd be bombarded with even more wonderful foods... but oh how I was wrong. Don't get me wrong, there are good foods here. But it's just not the same. The cafeteria food in college wasn't quite the same as the home-cooked (because essentially they were!) meals from high school. And now that I don't have the option of eating in a cafeteria on a daily basis, I miss high school. Wait, that doesn't sound right. I miss lunch in high school. Hah. Maybe there's some way I can track down those recipes.

I fall asleep really early now. And I sleep for a very long time. My body must need lots of recovery from all the nothing I do all day. Halloween is coming up. And I feel that since the neighborhood kids come by the house on days when they don't get free candy, I should go ahead and expect them for a night when they do. And I've never done the trick-or-treating thing. I mean, I went trick or treating once. When I was 16. It's a bit embarrassing to think about now, but I'd never been before and it was the only Halloween we were in the states for. And I thought free candy sounded great. And dressing up. I've always liked dressing up. I don't do it much now because, well, that would be weird, but when I was 16, I saw no harm in making a fool of myself around complete strangers. We were going to dress up the dogs, but I can't see either of them letting us put costumes on them and not trying to chew them off. I thought Sabre would make a great Batman. He's got the dark face and ears... but all the dog batman costumes were goofy and not big enough. I'm sure the kids would have loved it, but maybe another year.

(Can you believe how many sentences I write end in prepositions? It must be my style. How lovely that part of my writing style is so widely accepted as grammatically incorrect. Decipher that sentence, why don't ya?)

I've been enjoying fruit lately. Apples. And kiwi. And hopefully I'll have some strawberries tomorrow. Then I plan to make kiwi-strawberry fruit salad. Which is basically just sliced up kiwi and strawberries in a bowl. Together. But needless to say, I'm looking forward to it.

Fried Chicken. That's All You Need to Know.

A couple weeks ago, I decided I would make some fried chicken for lunch. Travis was at a meeting, and I was hungry. I had some defrosted chicken in the fridge. It was an easy solution. I wouldn't have time to make my usual WONDERFUL fried chicken, but I figured this easier method would suffice in a pinch. I sliced up the chicken, dipped it in egg, dipped it in flour, and fried it in the deep fryer. I took a taster bite of the first batch and nearly spit it back out. It was flavorless. It was dry. I hadn't cooked it any longer than usual, but something hadn't gone right. I threw out the chicken in a state of despair. I asked my husband to pick me up some Taco Bell on his way home, and tried to comfort myself. It was a rough day.

We have a lot of chicken. Most of it is frozen, but we had two chicken breasts defrosted in the fridge today. "Hm... maybe we should make some fried chicken..." But THIS TIME, we did it the right way. When we first got married, I was determined to make wonderful meals for my husband and myself. My first goal was to make delicious fried chicken. I tried a handful of recipes, but none of them truly lived up to my expectations. I finally took matters into my own hands and took bits and pieces from different recipes and made my own fried chicken. And after a bit of tweaking here and there, it was perfect. And even now, it's the only thing I make completely from scratch. I put the "be a great cook" thing on the back burner once I'd mastered fried chicken. Priorities, people. Today Travis did the cooking, I did the cleaning. I say that as if it's unusual, but really... that's just how we usually do things around here. He sliced the chicken, soaked it in my special buttermilk mixture for a good... 5 or 6 hours, and then dipped in my special flour mixture. He fried it up to a golden crisp in our lovely deep fryer. (Don't judge me for having a deep fryer. I need my fried chicken.) And do you know what happened when I took a taster bite of the first (and only) batch? I melted inside. It was flavorful and moist and wonderful. And I vowed to never ever ever, no matter what, fry chicken without first soaking it in buttermilk. Some people may know how to fry chicken without buttermilk-soaking and have it turn out delicious... but I am not that person. I learned a valuable lesson today. We will also eat fried chicken tomorrow. That's just how it's gonna be.

The dogs played outside with Travis and the neighborhood kids for about two and a half hours today. They've now been completely out (as in, asleep) for... an hour and a half? At least. The kids tire them out. And since my wonderful husband doesn't mind staying outside with the kids and dogs for two and a half hours, it works to my advantage. I enjoy the quiet of the house... watch a movie... take a nap... whatever I would like. It makes for a lovely afternoon! This week I finally read three of the five books I checked out from the library a month ago. I put off starting them because I know that once I start a book, all I will want to do is read. And that's exactly what happened. I read one book on Tuesday, one on Wednesday, and one on Thursday. Since Travis has Fridays off, I resisted the urge to start another book today. But I have rediscovered how much I love reading. And there's a good chance I will be reading incessantly for the next... however many months it takes before I run out of books to read. (I'm very picky about authors and genres and such when it comes to reading... so while I won't literally run out of books I could read, there's a good chance I'll run out of books I want to read.)

I just found out that Thanksgiving is the last week in November. No one told me.

Just Another Tuesday of Sedation, Urine, and Dilated Eyes

It's been an eventful few days. Well. One day primarily. Yesterday. I mean, I had a wonderful time in Dallas over the weekend. But, thankfully, those days were mostly relaxing and enjoyable. Wonderful food, bouts of laughter while we sat around and reminisced on days when my sisters and I were younger. We seem to have established that I was the bossy and emotional one (what lovely characteristics!), Brit was the trouble-making yet sweet one (how does that work?), and Kris was always so calm that we all remember the very very few times she got upset at someone. It was fun to take a walk down memory lane. Laughter is such a wonderful thing.

But back to my eventful day yesterday. The day started with me calling Sabre's vet about an appointment first thing in the morning. His dew claw (which is the thumb-like nail) on his front left foot must have gotten snagged on something at some point because it was almost completely pulled out. Sabre kept licking it and when I compared it to his right paw, it looked drastically different. The vet said that Sabre would need to be dropped off since there was a chance they would need to completely remove the claw. And even though we knew Sabre would be the biggest baby in the world about staying at the vet's office all day, we knew it had to be done. We dropped him off around 9:00 am. He tried to make a few escapes, but that's why Travis held Sabre's leash. We got a call around 1:45 saying that he had indeed broken the claw alllll the way down and would require sedation and pain medicine in order for them to remove it. We could pick him up between 5:00 and 6:00. So I did. I picked him up as soon as I got off work. He was still a bit loopy and desperate to leave the vet's office. We got in the car and started our drive home.

About halfway home, Sabre started whining. Really really whining. I thought maybe he was just flustered from his not-so-pleasant day. Or the sedation was making the car ride seem strange. I don't know. But either way, he wouldn't calm down. Then, about two miles from our exit, I hear a nice heavy stream of liquid somewhere in the car. I look back to find Sabre peeing all over the back seat. While still whining. (Thankfully we have a seat cover on it. And we just found out yesterday that the seat cover is waterproof. Score!) The smell of urine filled the car, I started to feel queasy and tried rolling down the window (which scared Sabre to death--apparently the wind is too loud when you're driving at 65 miles per hour), he jumped up to the front seat because he didn't want to sit in his pee, the car started dinging every so often because there was someone in the passenger seat without a seatbelt on, I exited early (though how I managed to not crash the car is some sort of miracle!) and drove into a large gas station, walked Sabre over to a nice patch of grass, and he peed again for about five minutes straight. Apparently they don't give dogs bathroom breaks at the vet's office. Wish I'd known that. I called my husband and pleaded with him to come help me. I couldn't drive with Sabre in the front seat because the dinging was stressing me out; I couldn't hold onto Sabre's leash and pull out the pee-covered seat cover and certainly couldn't drive in a urine-scented car; and I was about to have an emotional breakdown in the parking lot of a gas station, while my still loopy dog seemed completely confused. Travis was my hero. He took an early dinner break and came to my rescue. He pulled out the seat cover, found that the pee had NOT soaked through to the actual car seat (celebrate!), and drove Sabre in his car. We put a sock over Sabre's injured paw because the stuff they used to stop the bleeding would stain any fabric it touched AND so he wouldn't lick it constantly. We probably need to get him an e-collar (aka, cone of shame), but we'll see how the sock goes for now.

When people are coming out of anesthesia, we're so thoroughly entertained. They say funny things and act weird. We record it and post it for everyone else to see. When dogs are coming out of sedation, they are just plain strange. All yesterday evening, Sabre was weird. His eyes were ridiculously dilated and he would seemingly forget what he was doing every three seconds. He would start walking and then just freeze. Literally, freeze. No movement whatsoever. He would stop mid stride. We could say his name, call him to us, anything... and he would just stay frozen. And because his eyes were so dilated, when he would look at us, he looked surprised. And scared. And Tatum wanted so desperately to play with him (she didn't like him being gone all day), but he was so loopy he didn't know what to do. It was a weird, weird evening. But we made it home by the grace of God.

And now it's a new day. I'm enjoying some nice quiet while the puppies take their morning nap.

I Like Lists

Things my dogs do that make me laugh...
- Sabre steals my spot on the couch every morning. I think he's teasing me. He likes the reaction I have when I come back in the room and see he's in my spot. It must be very entertaining.
- When we tell the dogs to go to bed (their crates), Sabre will usually go right in (unless he thinks we're leaving the house), but Tatum will weave in and out of our legs or lay on her back right by our feet. She becomes very affectionate when she's supposed to be going to bed.
- When Travis joins me on the couch and kisses me, Sabre goes straight to his crate. Apparently he has sensed a pattern. ;)
- Sabre now sleeps on the coffee table 90% of the time. It's his spot.
- When Travis runs around the room while the dogs chase him, he's most scared of Tatum because she gets so into the chase, she sometimes ends up biting his ankles. It's kind of funny. (Don't worry though, we correct this behavior. And she doesn't do it to anyone else--except Sabre. Which also makes it kind of funny.)

This weekend is going to be wonderful. I mean it. Absolutely wonderful! I get to see my mom for the first time in almost two years! My dogs are boarding with this family in Dallas for the weekend. They have a pool and kids and a big yard. I'm not sure my dogs are going to want to come back with us! My birthday is on Friday so we're going out to eat. I just love eating out. It's a sickness, really. My grandfather is making a big Thai meal for my aunt and myself (her birthday is tomorrow). :) It's a good thing we get to start the weekend on Thursday, because I'm barely able to contain the jittery excitement I'm experiencing. AND THEN. Next weekend (on Saturday), my mom, sisters, and grandparents are coming to visit here for my mom's birthday! I'm hoping that's enough motivation to start hanging some pictures. This house needs to look more lived-in. Needless to say, the first two weeks of October are looking pretty great!

In other news...
- I checked out five books from the library... I'm hesitant to start them because then I won't want to do anything but read. All the time.
- I started working last week. I watch an adorable little two-year-old boy for a couple hours Monday-Thursday in the afternoon. It's nice to get out of the house. Yesterday I was talking to his mom when he said, "Ms. Cassie, stop talking." Hah. He wanted to tell me that he ate a cookie.
- I can no longer eat eggs.
- Today is Taco Plate Tuesday. Makes Tuesdays pretty awesome. (Three tacos, beans, and rice for $3.69!)
- Christmas is going to be wonderful. I know it's a couple months away but... it just is.
- I need to teach Sabre and Tatum the "quiet" command. I've realized its true importance in my sanity.

Five Splinters and a Lesson in Following Through

Yesterday when I closed our backyard gate (it's very warped and difficult to close), I got about five little splinters. I didn't even realize it until my hand felt itchy, and it wouldn't stop. I tried to get them out myself with tweezers, but as it turns out, I'm not very good at using tweezers with my left hand. When my husband came home for dinner, I showed him my poor splintered hand and he immediately grabbed tweezers to get the splinters out. He's a "fix the problem" kind of guy. But the splinters were too small and stuck to grab with tweezers. (I promise my hand is fine... this is sounding doom and gloom, but it's really not.) But because he is a fix-it guy, when he got home in the wee hours of the morning, he put a little "splinter remover" by my laptop, so I would see it first thing in the morning. I didn't use it, of course, because nothing had changed about my ineptitude in left-handedness. After I woke him up because I thought my puppies had caught/brought inside a little mouse (it turned out to be a hairball or something... I had no idea dogs coughed up hairballs), he saw the unopened splinter remover. He immediately opened it to reveal a sharp, needle-like thing (I have no clue how to describe it) that was supposed to dig the splinters out of my hand. I had a little bit of a breakdown because I'm a wimp and imagine everything to be much worse than it really is, so he threw the splinter remover away. After I calmed down I told him, "It's too bad you threw that thing away. I think I could handle it if I just distract myself." His response? "Well I brought two home." I'm a bit concerned that my husband knows me better than he should. Because somehow I had agreed to let him remove the splinters without even realizing it. I made myself some breakfast and then ate it while he poked my poor hand and pulled out all the splinters. (It turns out I am perfectly capable of eating with my left hand...) It stung a little bit, but it wasn't really as bad as I had imagined. And I was proud of myself for following through on what I unknowingly said I would do.

You know what's interesting about that story? It made me realize how often I'm willing to do something difficult, challenging, or out of my comfort zone as long as it's not possible. I don't think that's only true when it's a few little splinters and I'm scared of the sharp needle. It also comes into effect when I tell God that I'm ready and willing to do something for Him. But when the opportunity presents itself to do exactly what I said I would do, I hesitate. Or I just don't do it. And that's not OK. I've been asking God what my purpose is during this phase of my life. I've tried getting involved at church, but nothing seems to be working out. I'm not working, so I don't interact with many people throughout the day. Except the neighborhood kids. And you know what? I've complained endlessly about having to go outside every afternoon and hang out with a bunch of kids. I can't just send my dogs outside by themselves, so I have to go too. But you know what? If that's my only opportunity to show God's love, every afternoon with a bunch of kids that love to play with my dogs and talk my ears off about all sorts of random things, perhaps I need to fix my attitude about it. Perhaps it's time I look at it as my purpose during this phase of life. Who knows when this phase will end? I have an interview on Friday morning with a woman who needs someone to watch her two-year-old son for a couple hours in the afternoons. After Friday, if all goes well, that could be my new purpose. Right now, maybe my purpose is to show God's love to whoever God has placed in my life at that particular point in time. I said I wanted a purpose. I wanted to be His light. But did I really mean it? I better have.

I went outside with the kids earlier today. The dogs weren't as energetic as usual, but sometimes that's good. It gives me a chance to do a bit more focused training while we're surrounded with distractions. Sabre will sometimes sit automatically when a car goes by now. I'm completely panicked that one of my puppies will run out in front of a car and get killed. So every time a car goes by, I tell Sabre and Tatum to sit. Tatum doesn't usually sit. She just walks over to me. (I'm working on it.) But Sabre seems to have mastered it. And I'm very excited about that! He was also the first one to run inside when I called them in after we were done playing! While puppies may be cuter than dogs, I'm loving the fact that Sabre listens AND obeys now that he's older. The kids wanted to walk around the neighborhood, so I leashed the dogs up and we went for a walk. They loved walking the dogs! They even ran with the dogs the last couple of blocks back to the house. I don't run. Hah.

I love McAlister's sweet tea. It's delicious. Sabre turned one this past Saturday. My sisters came to celebrate with us. I'm very excited about eating leftover beef stew for dinner tonight. With freshly baked biscuits. My mother will be arriving in the states for a short visit in two weeks and two days. I'm beyond excited about that! I'm trying to work up the motivation to start a novel and actually finish it. And I discovered that I do not enjoy shopping for wood for my husband's building projects. It's very boring, guys. Oh! And I think I need a chore chart for myself. The end.

Can You Tell I Stay Home with My Puppies All Day Long?

I believe I've mentioned before that Travis and I used to live in an apartment. We moved into said apartment right after we got married. After living there a year and a half, we hadn't met a single one of our neighbors. Not one. But then, last November, we got a puppy. And everything changed. Sabre was a cute little puppy and got tons of attention from other dog owners and non-dog owners alike. He made fast friends with other dogs to the point where he would sit at the window and wait for one of his friends to go outside. When he played with his doggie friends, we talked with their owners. And we got to know them. And it was wonderful! It was nice to actually know some people in our apartment complex instead of feeling like antisocial recluses.

Then we moved away. Far, far away. (Not really that far...but I'm trying to play up the dramatics.) We were back at square one. The problem this time? We have a backyard, so we don't let the dogs out the front door into a common outdoor area where other people and dogs frequently pass by. (That sentence sounds confusing and terrible all at the same time, but I'm not sure I have the willpower to correct it. It breaks all sorts of rules to end a sentence with the word 'by', I'm sure.) Needless to say, Sabre and Tatum haven't had as many dog friends or people friends since we moved.

Until yesterday.

I harnassed and leashed up both puppies and we went outside. I figured at the very least, we could go for a walk. But I also knew there were a bunch of kids playing in the street right in front of our house. Perhaps they would give my puppies some much-needed outside attention. As soon as we got out there, the kids eagerly asked if they could pet the dogs. One thing led to another, and I let them off leash. They chased the basketballs and the kids (thankfully Sabre knows he's not supposed to literally catch the kids when he chases them), and it was wonderful. They were exhausted by the end. Tatum was exhausted before the end. She's an introvert. ;) The kids knocked on the door today and asked, "Can your dogs come play?" It was cute. And we went outside for a while. Another couple passed by walking their two dogs, and my puppies made new doggie friends. Sabre really scared the poor Hound dog when he approached her though. I had both my puppies in a sit-stay, but they're still working on mastering the concept. Tatum broke first and I confirmed with the other owners that their dogs would be OK meeting mine before I let Sabre go. Just to calm your fears that my dogs are crazy and out of control. :) After the initial uncertainty, both of the other dogs came around and seemed to enjoy the encounter. They didn't want to leave. Hopefully we'll see them again and our dogs can play a bit more. Yay for doggie friends! My puppies are now exhausted. They're fighting the desire to sleep.

Yesterday Sabre chased some chickens. Poor things were scared to death. They escaped though. I'm not sure what Sabre would have done if he'd caught one. My sisters are coming to Waco for Sabre's first birthday next weekend. Hah! They thought it was kind of silly to come for his birthday, but I told them it's not silly at all. While he won't know it's his birthday, we will. And we'll have fun! :)

I'm very ready for cooler weather. I can't explain it, but I now love cold weather. It's cleaner and fresher and just nicer all around. I mean, sure it's not great if you have to be outside a lot... but neither is hot weather. At least when you come in from the cold, you don't feel like you need to shower. And I like fall/winter clothes. I like boots. And long-sleeved shirts. I'm ready for fall. But since it's still in the high nineties everyday even though it's September, I think I still have some waiting to do. I just have to remind myself that while Texas summers are horribly miserable, the other three seasons are really quite nice. It's the silver lining.

Puppies, Peanut Butter, and Poop

Sabre (and most likely Tatum too) has a upper respiratory infection of sorts. No, it's a virus. Is that the same thing? He's been sneezing A LOT and sometimes his breathing sounds really horrible. Tatum has the raspy breathing thing going on, some sneezing. I took Sabre to the vet to find out if I'm just a crazy woman concerned about every little noise my puppies make, or if there's some truth to my madness. And I was right. He's sick. Not in a "I just want to sleep and lay around and be a super easy puppy" kind of way...but in a "I sound terrible, but I'm still going to play like I always do" kind of way. I'm glad though. I'm glad he isn't acting out of character. I'd be even more worried then. For now they're going to be on benadryl, and then if it gets worse, we're going to be out a lot of money. The antibiotic is rather costly. It's not bacterial at this point, so the antibiotic isn't necessary. But if they get worse and start showing certain symptoms, then I need to get them the rather costly medicine. This is a bit of what it's like having children, huh? I asked the vet if other dogs are as crazy as Sabre is when he's at the vet. My crazy dog wouldn't get on the scale, kept trying to open the door and run out, and would sit on the bench and try to hide behind me. It's embarrassing because I have no clue how to make him less scared of the vet. However, she made me feel a lot better when she said, "Well.. Sabre's really not that bad. He doesn't poop everywhere or..." and then I didn't hear the rest. He doesn't poop everywhere! Apparently there are dogs that get so nervous about the vet that they poop everywhere. I'm officially grateful that my puppy retains control of his bowels when he's nervous at the vet. :) Yay for Sabre!

Speaking of poop, yesterday Tatum did something rather horrible. I let the puppies outside to do their business. As soon as they were finished, they wanted to come back inside. Tatum, as usual, came sprinting inside behind Sabre, I closed the door, and sat back down on the couch. Tatum came over and sat on the floor next to me. Suddenly, the overwhelming scent of poop came wafting through the air. I thought maybe Tatum had stepped in some poop outside, so I was about ready to check her paws when I saw it. Right in front of Tatum on THE CARPET, a chunk of poop. She didn't slip up and poop inside the house. No, no. She brought the poop into the house in her mouth. [shudders] I was rather upset. She got a spanking right on her bottom. I got a paper towel, picked up the poop, and threw it back out into the yard, where, of course, Sabre picked it right back up and ate it. They both stayed outside for a while after that and didn't get to come back in till I rinsed their mouths out. This whole eating poop thing is driving me crazy. Absolutely crazy. And while I haven't yet found a way to put a stop to it, these puppies will learn real quick that they are never ever ever allowed to bring poop into my house.

Let's move on to a more pleasant topic. Peanut butter. I'm not a big fan of peanut butter. I don't really know why, but I just wouldn't typically choose it. However, on rare occasions (like this morning), I'll get a hankering for some peanut butter and jelly toast. But you see, there's a problem. My husband, who loves peanut butter all the time, likes chunky peanut butter. Chunky! Do you know how hard it is to spread chunky peanut butter on toast? It's hard. I like creamy. But since I only eat peanut butter once every blue moon, I don't get to buy creamy. Sigh. It's a hard life.

I think it's time for a walk. Both for me and the insanely hyper puppies. I feel like a rockstar when I take both my puppies for a walk at the same time. Because rockstars are known for their expertise in walking dogs..... psh. I'm losing it.

"Now I Know If I'm Trapped in a Cardboard Box, Sabre Can Save Me."

Travis is sitting in a very large cardboard box, Sabre is tearing it to pieces trying to get him out. I really think Sabre is mostly focused on the joy of tearing the box into tiny little pieces all over my floor, but it makes Travis feel better to think that Sabre is trying to save his life. Tatum is a bit overwhelmed. She did find a hole in the side of the box, and would stick her tongue through it, perhaps to reassure Travis that she was there. Or just because she's a dog and does things like sticks her tongue through holes in cardboard boxes. Now Travis is raking up the pieces of cardboard, while Sabre still works on destroying the box. Oh the excitement we have!

My little Tatum was sick yesterday. She didn't eat all day and vomited once. I was a tad worried... in the sense that I was terrified. I hate it when my puppies are sick. I don't know what to do and puppies don't tell you that they're sick. They try to act completely normal and don't cry or bark or anything. You just have to be observant. Sigh. But today she's been fine. She ate a little bit and even played hide-and-seek with us. She mostly follows Sabre around as he searches for Travis/me, but we all have a fun time. Sabre was a good protector this morning. There was a dog on the other side of our fence growling at Tatum. And Tatum, being the oblivious little puppy that she is, was rather curious about said dog. I, however, was less curious and far more interested in getting her away from the fence. The dog probably couldn't have done anything through the fence, but I just didn't like it. As I was making my way towards her in order to encourage her to come back inside with me, Sabre sprinted past me to the fence and started barking at the mean growling dog. :) I was proud of him.

Travis asked me why I haven't posted in a while and I told him, "Because all I want to talk about is how much I miss my birth control pills!" I'm sure most of you don't really care whether I'm on or off birth control pills, but you should. You see, I've become a crazy person. It's true. Some women say the pill makes them sick and hormonal and kind of insane, but for me, it's the other way around. I hope my body is just in the process of balancing out and that's why I'm insane, but I have no clue. All I know is that a month ago, the dog fur on my furniture didn't make me mad. I didn't necessarily like it, but I just ignored it and eventually cleaned the couches. Now I'm picking off strand by strand of dog hair. A month ago I enjoyed The Cosby Show. It made me laugh. Now I get mad, literally mad, at the stupid kids when they do incredibly stupid things. And I get even more mad at the parents when they don't discipline their children. A month ago I would have teased Travis about not putting his bowl into the dishwasher. Now I rant about how terrible it is that he doesn't help me keep things clean and organized. Over a stupid bowl! Travis has chosen to handle my sudden, ridiculous rants by laughing. He just smiles and laughs. Which really is the best way to handle it because there always comes a point when I look back and realize how much I overreacted and how ridiculous it all was. I miss my birth control pills. Although, I've had less headaches lately, so if that continues, then I don't miss them anymore.

Yesterday I made sloppy joes and onion strings. I actually fried onion strings! I don't like onions. I've gotten better about it in recent years, but as a whole, I can't stand them. Especially raw and especially in casseroles. I have a special way of knowing if there's onion in a casserole--too much onion, that is. Onions have a strong flavor, so if you use too much onion, it becomes all you can taste. And who wants to eat onion casserole? My dad spent years of my childhood trying to convince me that onions are wonderful and delicious. He never succeeded. I have, however, gotten to a point where I will eat fried onions (not big giant rings though) and very very very grilled onions. Caramelized. Anyway, I made sloppy joes and onion strings and they were both delicious. Yay!  

Wow. It's quiet. The puppies seem to be worn out. What a beautiful sound.

The Bigger Picture Should Make You Feel Pretty Small

Today is just one of those days. You know what I mean? One of “those days” where you wake up at 8:00 (ish) and fall back asleep at 10:30 and sleep till 12:30. Then a couple hours later, you start to feel a headache coming on so you do everything you can think to do to prevent it. But, of course, you fail and end up spending the second half of the day—the only part of the day where you’re awake, I might add—in pain. You’re sweating up a storm, so you check your AC thermostat and even though you have it set to 75, it’s 80 degrees inside your house. It’s 100 degrees outside. There’s no relief. But you deal with it because it’s Sunday evening, and there’s nothing you can do about it today. So you decide to distract yourself on the computer but…oh wait. For some unknown reason, your Internet isn’t working. OK, fine! You go outside to throw the ball for the dogs but…oh wait! Sabre lost (or hid, we’re still working on it) all the balls except one, and he guards that one like it’s his long-lost brother. So now all you want to do is get in a nice air-conditioned car (an air conditioner that works properly, I might add), drive to a hotel with free wireless internet, stay in a nice cool room with free cable television, and never ever leave. But, of course, you don’t. Instead you type up a blog entry that you can’t post till the Internet starts working again, feeling ridiculously pathetic for complaining about such little things.

My parents were in a motorcycle accident on Saturday afternoon. They were on their way to a funeral when the front tire of the motorcycle blew out, and they went over the top. As soon as they fell off, a bunch of people came over to help them, flagged down an angkot (public transportation in Indonesia), and got my parents to the ER. Miraculously, my mom has very few injuries, considering the fall she took. The right side of her body is pretty beat up. Her right foot is very swollen, she can’t walk without being in pain, and she can’t drive. And just in general, she feels pretty sore. My dad, however, broke five ribs. He’s stuck in a hospital bed and is in excruciating pain. They say it will probably take 4 to 8 weeks for complete recovery. It’s hard for him to think that way, because he’s in such terrible pain without much hope for relief anytime soon. I hate being so far away. My mom tells me that there’s really nothing I could do if I were there, but 10,000 miles has never seemed quite this far. On a more positive note though, my parents have been extremely encouraged by all the people that have visited them in the hospital, and all the people praying for them all over the world. I’ve heard people say all sorts of negative things about Facebook, but I have to say, I think they’re all missing the bigger picture here. I posted a Facebook status about my parents’ accident and within a couple of hours, people in Alabama, Minnesota, Arizona, Mississippi, California, Texas, Indiana, Oklahoma, South Carolina, Washington, New York, (and many others) and all throughout Indonesia and other countries around the world, were praying for them. What an incredible prayer chain! One status. That’s all it took! I sent an email to my extended family members, who then forwarded it on to more people, and so on and so forth. My mom received my email from a couple that used to live in Indonesia, asking for prayer from all of their contacts. Prayer is such a powerful thing, and to know that there are thousands of people praying for my parents is not only encouraging to them, but encouraging to me as well. And to those people that say they don’t like Facebook and they’re deleting their accounts, I’m not the person to go to for moral support.

So as you can see, complaining about being hot or not having internet (which just came back on, by the way), seems so trivial when you know your own daddy is laying in a hospital bed with five broken ribs. It makes me feel small and petty. And I sincerely hope that from now on, whenever I start to feel sorry for myself and lament about all my “first world problems,” that I’ll change my perspective a bit. Instead of being frustrated with an AC that doesn’t cool all that well, simply be grateful that I have a nice house to live in that has AC at all! Or instead of being irritated with horrible Texas summers, be grateful that summer eventually passes and the other three seasons are quite lovely here.

On a lighter note, my sisters are coming here tomorrow for a visit. They’re bringing me Indomie! Sabre is going to be 11 months old in three days. He’s almost a year old! Crazy! Tatum is handling her recovery quite incorrectly. She’s supposed to rest and take it easy this week. No playing or running or jumping…which is all she’s wanted to do since the drugs wore off on Friday afternoon. She clearly has no idea she had surgery two days ago. Travis made chicken stir-fry tonight. It was delicious! He wants me to donate plasma, but I have a little tiny fear of needles. OK, a big fear. He donated yesterday and thinks I need to give it a shot. But I’m convinced that I’ll look a bit silly going in of my own accord and then bursting into tears when they try to stick me with the needle.

Also… it might rain tonight. Gulp.

It's All Random Again, Folks.

My sweet little Tatum got spayed today. I am completely losing it. The surgery went well and all, but now she's home, and you would never know she had surgery this morning. We were supposed to keep her confined for the first 24 hours, but we failed. She's supposed to have a cone on, but we took it off because she kept knocking things over and running into walls. (We'll put it back on before bedtime.) She's only supposed to have a quarter of a normal meal and half a cup of water today. She devoured said quarter meal and has definitely guzzled more than half a cup of water. Needless to say, I'm feeling like a bad post-surgery puppy mommy. Both puppies are currently in their crates, because Tatum was trying to get Sabre to lick her stitches. No joke. This is going to be a long, long week.

I ran out of Indomie (Indonesian instant noodles). For those of you who have never had Indomie, I'm very sorry. They are wonderful. Completely unhealthy, but wonderful. Since I was a small child, I've eaten noodles for breakfast. It started in Thailand with Mama (Thai instant noodles), and simply continued in Indonesia with Indomie. I've been given many looks when I admit to people that my breakfast of choice is noodles, but what can I say? They're easy to make (because first thing in the morning I have no interest in doing anything too complicated), they're quick to make, and they're delicious. And I miss them immensely. Breakfast just isn't the same anymore.

I found out today that Francine Rivers has a new novel coming out sometime in spring 2014. I did a little dance. If there's one author that has yet to let me down, it's Francine Rivers. I'll admit that I wasn't quite as fond of the third book in her Mark of the Lion series, but other than that, her books are my favorites. Despite the fact that I have a degree in English Literature, I'm really very picky about books. I know many English lit people that will read just about anything and somehow enjoy it. I am not in that group. If I'm not hooked within the first 30 to 50 pages, it's not going to happen. But Francine Rivers' books have never failed me. If you've never read one of her books, you need to change that. Aside from the fact that her stories themselves are great, I also highly respect her as a writer. I love to write and hold writers to a certain standard. You see, Rivers takes writing seriously. She actually takes the time to have her novels thoroughly edited by an editor! What a novel thought! And then she rereads them herself to make sure everything still makes sense. So even though she only has a new novel every few years, I always know it's going to be well-written and a great story.

I think I'm going to eat a light dinner. You know, chips and cheese. Kind of like nachos, but not.

When You Feel Like You've Been Drugged

Don't you hate it when you take a nice afternoon nap only to wake up and feel almost more exhausted than before you napped? I really hate it. And I'm battling the overwhelming urge to go back to sleep until I no longer feel drugged.

If there's one thing I definitely like about my husband's new work schedule, it's that he gets Friday, Saturday, and Sunday off every single week. :) wonderful! On Friday we took the puppies to a splash park and playground. Sabre loves to go down the slide! We finally got Tatum to try it this time too. She was a bit unsure at first, but after one time, she discovered that it really was a lot of fun. After running around and sliding for a bit, we walked to the other side of the park where there's a splash pad. They knew exactly where we were going after a little while and ran straight over to it. Sabre loves the water! Tatum loves the water as long as it doesn't splash on her. She'll lay it in all day long. After the park, we went to a friend's house and the puppies played with some other doggie friends. I tell you all of this because then, on Saturday morning, the puppies woke up, played for about 40 minutes, and then slept almost exclusively for the next five hours. And after that, the only reason they woke up was because we took them back out for some play time! It was a strange (but very calm and relaxing) Saturday morning.

Over the past few years, I have struggled with something I like to call the "never-aging disease." It's not scientific or anything, and most people disagree with me that it's a disease, but I struggle from it nonetheless. When I was about twelve years old, I was frequently told that I looked as though I were sixteen! I always took it as a compliment because I enjoyed looking older than I was. However, pretty much around that same age, something happened. I apparently stopped aging. Since I apparently looked about sixteen when I was twelve, and I apparently look sixteen right now, it seems as though I haven't aged in eleven years! I'm constantly told that I should be grateful that I look young. The popular phrase is, "Someday you'll be grateful!" Well let me tell you something, Folks. Today is not that day. You see, here's what happened. Travis and I went grocery shopping yesterday. He was getting some vegetables, and I decided to go get something we'd forgotten in the frozen foods section. At one point while I was walking back, I was walking the opposite direction of these three boys. The oldest of the three boys was probably thirteen or fourteen (it's hard to know, because I wasn't really paying a whole lot of attention to them). As I walked past them, the older one said in that flirty teenage way, "Hey..." and smiled at me. I smiled politely and said hi back, and continued on my way. And then I felt saddened by the entire thing. A boy in middle school tried to..what's the word? Flirt with me? I don't know. But I'm desperately ready to look my age, you guys. [sigh.] Travis was less than understanding of my distress. He tried to convince me that perhaps this boy just likes older girls, but we both know he didn't think I was twenty-three.

Still can't shake off the sleepiness. Blah. What's a girl to do? My husband is watching something about all the parts of an engine. Or how to assemble one. Or disassemble one. I have no clue, but he offered to let me listen to it. I dramatically declined. Ok, I've used all the brainpower I have. It's a wonder I get anything done around here.

The Sun is So Cruel to Fair Skin

This past weekend, my husband and I went to Dallas to visit family. It was a load of fun. :) I got to see some of my cousins that I don't typically get to see, and we went by ourselves. In other words, we didn't take the dogs. It was a bit hard to leave them behind, but it was also nice to be able to focus on spending time with everyone without having to worry about the dogs. I only teared up a couple times, and both times were before we got to the boarding kennel. Yay for me! While in Dallas, we had an early birthday party for my cousin Jake (he's 8... almost!). At this lovely party, we got to swim since my aunt and uncle have a pool. Towards the end of swim time, my little three-year-old cousin, Chara, decided she was ready to swim by herself. Luckily, she decided to do this while I was very close by and able to catch her when needed. But she reminded me every minute or so that she didn't want me to catch her. Then she'd instruct me to go to the middle of the pool (while she held on to the side), and once I was far enough away, she'd let go and go under the water. She was actually a pretty good swimmer despite the fact that she doesn't know how to swim yet. She'd make a little big of progress towards me, not realizing, of course, that I was swiftly moving back towards her so I could pull her up. She wasn't the least bit scared, no matter how long she stayed under water. Brave little girl. :) She's also very funny. (When you're three, it's a lot easier to be funny because you're just so cute!) She kept singing (over and over again), "You don't know you're beautiful! Oh oh!" I had never heard this song before, but once she found out we could play songs from youtube, I got to hear it quite a few times. I spent a great deal of time with little Chara, but she wasn't so sure about my dear husband. Chara loved Travis whenever he would do the "monkey thing" with her and other fun tricks, but other times, not so much. At one point, Travis was in the hot tub area (that is not hot--no one wants to sit in a hot tub during a Texas summer) messing with something, when Chara came over to me and said, "Your boy broke it." And then on Sunday morning, in a noble attempt to convince me to ride with her to church after I told her I was riding with Travis, she said, "But he's gonna beat you up!" It's a work in progress.

This week has been busy it seems. We drove back home Monday morning, and I don't feel as though I've actually spent that much time at home. Today I went swimming (sort of) at a friend's house and found that even though I sprayed myself with about seventeen layers of sunscreen, I somehow missed my knees, and now they're...red. Very red. :( As I'm typing this, they're burning. I think it's some kind of requirement that every time I swim, I have to forget to put sunscreen somewhere. Except Saturday at the birthday party. Hm, perhaps my theory has a few holes. Anyway, I also went grocery shopping this morning. I have decided that no matter what, I will not get in line behind old(er) people. I have done it far too many times and every single time, something goes wrong. You know why? Because they insist on writing a check to pay for their groceries. Don't get me wrong, I use checks too. But not at a grocery store. Perhaps I'm being insensitive, but I just don't understand why a check is preferable to cash or a debit card. It always takes forever and something goes wrong and, quite frankly, you seem old when you use a check. Needless to say, I will no longer get in a line if there is an old(er) person in line. I'm horrible, I know.

The only problem with going out in the afternoon for a few hours is that Sabre and Tatum are stuck in their crates the whole time. So now, instead of dealing with two worn out puppies, I have Tatum who just wants to chase all the bugs, and Sabre who doesn't know what he wants to do, so he just barks. At me, at the door, at Tatum. It could be a long night. I'm very sleepy and ready to sleep in as much as I possibly can tomorrow. (If the puppies will also sleep in a bit tomorrow...) There were other things I had planned to share with you, but I have completely forgotten them. Perhaps next time I will have scintillating tales to share with, but until then, good night, dear friends.

And God Created Puppies, And It Was Wonderful

So I'm reading a blog and I click on a post about Instagram. I read the post and scroll down to the comments section. I really shouldn't be allowed to read comments on anything. Articles, blog posts, semi-controversial facebook statuses... I read the comments and often times find myself battling it out with a myriad of emotions, most of them unpleasant. But nevertheless, I still end up reading the comments every single time. Apparently I'm a glutton for punishment. Anyway, this particular post seemed harmless enough. What could people possibly say on a post about Instagram that would make me upset or sad or anything really? But do you know what someone said? She had the nerve to say that it's so annoying when people post endless pictures of their dogs! How rude! Apparently "dogs are not your kids" so, therefore, you have no right to love them as such. I read a whole paragraph (in the comments section!) on the horrors of puppy pictures. Little tears formed in the corners of my eyes and sadness overwhelmed me. OK, not really. Not at all, actually. But I felt indignant, even though it wasn't specifically directed towards me. I haven't actually posted many pictures of my puppies lately. When Travis and I were in job/home limbo, we posted videos on Facebook and pictures on Instagram very regularly because... well, we had nothing else to do. And those pictures and videos were of our beautiful little puppies. :) And here's the way I see it: you don't have to look at my pictures. It's true. You are under no obligation whatsoever to partake in my life. I love my puppies and whether it makes sense or not, they ARE my babies. I don't have children. I am home all day long. I don't have all that much to do. I cook, clean, do laundry, and take care of my puppies. I'm not saying they're as much work as a child. I'm not insane. Why do you think I opted for puppies instead of babies first? I can't put my child in a crate and go grocery shopping for a couple hours. But for this phase of my life, my puppies make staying home so much better. For example, last night I was feeling down. I'm having a harder time adjusting to Travis working nights than I thought I would and last night wasn't the best. I tried to convince my sister to talk to me on skype, but she was busy. And then suddenly, I sat down on the floor and just started crying. I don't exactly know why. I'm not sure years of study could figure out why I had a sudden emotional breakdown for no good reason. But little Tatum, my sweet girl, looked at me for a couple seconds (she did that head cocking thing that's just so cute) and then climbed into my lap and onto my chest and started licking the tears off my cheeks (and eyes and nose and entire face, really). She put so much effort into comforting me with doggie kisses, that I ended up on my back. Sabre must have thought we were having a good ol' time, so he came over and joined in the kisses. My face was completely covered with doggie kisses. Even after I finally sat up, Tatum still stayed on my lap. And even though some might think that doggie kisses are gross (I was once a part of that club), I felt so loved. I was laughing so much by the end of the "puppy therapy" session, the only way you knew it started in tears was because my eyes don't handle tears well. I just think it's really amazing how much a puppy (or two!) can love you. God created some very special animals when he created dogs. And I'm so glad I have these two little crazy, hyper, silly, frustrating, wonderful animals in my life.

And here are a couple pictures of my babies. ;) 

While I made myself some breakfast a couple days ago, Sabre stole my spot on the couch. 

He does this on purpose.

I was trying to make the guest bed and the puppies decided to hinder my progress. 

She's a looker though, isn't she? :)

Dirt, Dinner, and the Possibility of a Donut

I'm hoping that although we've only been up for about an hour, that my darling puppies are completely exhausted and ready for their morning nap. I let them out around eight this morning. Our backyard got flooded again Saturday night (very shortly after I wrote a post celebrating our dried up backyard), so yesterday (Tuesday) was the first day they could go out back again. However, Sabre gallops more than runs so he ends up with dirt (clay-like dirt, I might add) stuck in between his toes. A lot of it. So he would come to the door and try to jump through the closed window. That's his way of telling me that he's ready to come inside. However, one look at his feet and I knew I needed to go out and wipe them off. I got one, but then he ran back out into the yard and started sprinting around with Tatum again. And we continued in that pattern for a while. He'd come to the door, I'd go outside to wipe off his feet, he'd go play. It was like he'd only play if I was outside. I finally got them inside and into the bathroom where I wiped off his feet. Tatum was much easier. But either way, they both need a bath even though they'll be all dirty again as soon as the bath is over. Puppies.

My husband has finally switched over to his official 2nd shift. This means that instead of working from 7:30 am to 5:00 pm, he now works from 3:30 pm to 2:30 am. It's pretty different. Definitely going to take some getting used to. Sabre's having a hard time with it as well. You see, since Travis doesn't get to bed until 3:00 (at the earliest), he sleeps till sometime between 10 and 11. And since the rest of us wake up before 8, Sabre gets antsy and starts jumping and barking at the bedroom door. We're working on fixing this rather annoying behavior. And by we, I mean I am. Travis is sleeping. He can't help.

I finally followed a recipe! Travis has been coming home for dinner during his shift, so on Monday night I made chili! I was very tempted as I was chopping six cloves of garlic to just...eliminate a couple. No big deal. But I reminded myself that it's a very good idea to follow the recipe as written. I'm sure they had a good reason for including six garlic cloves. AND, the best part of the whole thing, I chopped an onion! If you know me even a little bit, you know that I hate onions. I've learned over the last couple of years to eat very very cooked onions. But they have to be very cooked and very thin and, more or less, not taste like onions at all. Raw onions... yeah, I can't do raw onions. The smell, the watery eyes, the taste.. all bad. But this recipe called for an onion. I read up on how to cut an onion without crying and found that cold onions don't make you cry. I put the onion in the freezer for a few minutes. I just happened to be watching The Help while I was chopping garlic, and in the movie they say that putting a matchstick in between your teeth helps. So I did that too! And I didn't cry at all! I couldn't even smell the onion! (Which in my book is really really good!) And when Travis came home and tried the chili, he said that it was super delicious and better than any chili he's made. Pretty high compliment!

Pst, my puppies are falling asleep! Hip hip horray!! The only problem is, now I'm scared to move.

Oh yeah, and I think my sister is going to help me get ahold of a chocolate cake donut this weekend while I'm visiting! So excited! I mean, not just about the donut but also about visiting Dallas. I have to leave my puppies behind. (We're boarding them, not just leaving them in the house all weekend.) I'm probably going to look like a crazy person when I get all emotional about leaving my babies, but what can you do? I'm a naturally emotional person. I've tried to overcome this in my life, but it's a lot harder than it sounds. But I have improved quite a lot since high school. And I can promise you, everyone is grateful for that! ;) It'll be good for the puppies though. They've never spent the night away from us. I do worry that we'll be knocked over when we pick them up on Monday though. Considering how excited they are when we come back from the grocery store, it's going to be a sight to see.

OK. I've said all I came to say. Which, as it turns out, isn't a lot of substance, but maybe next time I'll have more enlightening, exciting, wonderful things to share with you. Have a wonderful Wednesday!

I Love Wearing White and Taking Naps

It always seems like I just wrote a post, and then I look at the date and see that it's been days and days. And here I thought this was going to be a long week. It went by surprisingly fast, considering today is the first day the puppies have been able to go in the backyard. Their paws get a little dirty, but you can't have everything.

When Travis got home yesterday, we loaded the puppies in the car and took them to Pet Smart and Lowe's. They needed to get out of the house. Pet Smart was good except we have further seen that Tatum has no doggie social skills. Anytime another dog is around her, the hair on her spine goes up, and she looks a bit scary. Not terrifying, mind you. She's still a baby puppy at 4.66 months (trying to be as accurate as possible), so I think there's still time for us to fix her antisocial tendencies. I sure hope so. Because one of the only things that redeems us in the eyes of so many people who don't like big dogs is that our big Sabre is a sweetheart. He loves to play with other dogs, he gets so excited when there are kids around (just ask the two kids that wanted to pet him at Pet Smart yesterday), and pretty much just loves everyone. This rather large female mastiff approached him yesterday, and he was thrilled! There's only so much you can do in a store, but he was definitely ready to play. Tatum, on the other hand, was overwhelmed and eventually bared her teeth. We gave her a correction on that one, since the sweet, albeit large, dog was doing her absolutely no harm. Tatum's also the first to bark at other dogs on our walks. Sabre wants to play, Tatum wants to "attack" but then runs away and tries to hide behind Travis or me as soon as she thinks the other dog might take her up on the offer. We're thinking of taking her to a puppy socialization/training class. There were many things I didn't like about living in a tiny one bedroom, one bathroom apartment, but one of the best things about it was the "at home dog park" right outside our door. As soon as we'd let Sabre out the door, he'd go to all his friends' doors and scratch on the door a bit. Or his friends would hear (or sense) him outside and just appear. Their owners always said, "Oh, so that's why she was whining at the door..." We'd say the same thing if it was one of the other dogs that went outside first. Sabre always sat at the window and waited for a friend to show up. And there were even times that some of the other dog owners would bring their dogs right in front of our door, knowing that we'd let Sabre outside since he'd start whining incessantly. Then they'd play for a while and get sufficiently worn out. His closest friends were a Chihuahua, a Pomeranian, a Schnauzer, a Terrier mix, a Pitbull mix, and a German Shepherd mix. Needless to say, he learned very quickly how to play with small(er) dogs. It was really the Chihuahua (Precious) that taught him. You see, she was his first friend when we brought him home. They were about the same size at first. Then, somewhere around 40 lbs or so, Precious decided they couldn't be friends. If he would approach her, she would bark viciously in his face and run away. Sabre tried for weeks and weeks and weeks to appease her. He would basically go as far down to the ground as he could and then crawl towards her. We think he was trying to make himself look smaller. Then, one day, Precious came outside while Sabre was playing with his Schnauzer friend (Bear), and when Sabre approached her, she stood there and let him lick her. And they were friends again. We think maybe Precious was trying to teach Sabre how to be a better friend to small dogs. I mean, it certainly worked. He stopped trying to paw them (since his paws are the same size as their whole bodies) and learned how not to hurt them when he nipped at them so they would chase him. It was a wonderful thing. But Tatum didn't get to play with them as long. We were only there a few weeks after Tatum came home, and the time away from other dogs has been bad for her. Sigh. The grass is always greener, huh? In this case, quite literally. We have no grass. Just dried mud. Wink, wink.

I tried to make corndogs yesterday. It didn't go quite as well as I'd hoped it would. Apparently corndogs require special cornbread batter in order to stay on the hotdog and stay yummy after frying. Hopefully I'll do better next time. Once I want corndogs again. At this point, the corndogs I had yesterday didn't endear them to me a whole lot. This is why I don't like cooking. I try something new and it fails. I have to admit, I tend to try things without a recipe or I change the recipe, so I guess it's more due to my lack of following directions (or getting directions), but I'm working on it. One of these days I'm going to follow a recipe exactly. You'll see.

I started watching Glee on Netflix this week. I couldn't say anything about it before I watched it (because it's really stupid for people to say horrible things about something they've never seen), but now, I feel I can officially comment on it. I love the show for the musical performances. They're the best part of the show. Actually, I have to be honest. They're the only good thing about the show. I have to keep reminding myself that this show is not meant to be realistic. If it were meant to be realistic, they failed miserably. I didn't go to public high school in the states, but I genuinely hope that real life teachers don't act like such idiots. I have yet to find a truly likable character, and find myself skipping over a lot of scenes. And in the end, I feel dumber for having watched it. But I love the ensemble music. I made it about halfway through the first season, and I think that's sufficient for me. I mean, teachers encouraging students to look up to Madonna and emulate her? Disgusting. After trying to explain to Travis what was happening in the show, he finally said, "If you hate the show so much, why do you keep watching it?" And so I took his very sage advice and stopped watching it. :) If I like the music as much as it seemed, I can always look at their soundtracks. No need to suffer through the show itself.

My dear husband and I have such different tastes in...everything. As I'm writing this, he's watching a documentary movie (something like that) and it sounds incredibly boring. I prefer TV shows to movies, and even then, I'm very picky. He likes to read magazines like Popular Mechanics, Popular Science, and National Geographic. I like to read nonfiction novels. He likes to work outside, I love air conditioning. (I'm much more willing to go outside when it's not 100 degrees outside. I burn. Badly.) He likes to camp and hike, I developed a strong hatred for both activities throughout my childhood. He likes broccoli, I tolerate it. He hates cheesy foods, I love them. He hates mashed potatoes, I could eat mashed potatoes as my main course. And I could really go on and on. But you know what? There are some ways that the differences are a good thing. I mean, if it weren't for Travis, I never would have tried skiing. I can't say it was my favorite thing, but I tried it. And Travis has listened to me read a couple novels to him and has actually enjoyed them. He wouldn't ever pick up a book and read it on his own, but he'll listen to one. :) And it hasn't happened yet, but someday I might go camping with him. You never know. Hiking? Not so much. It pushes both of us out of our comfort zones. For example, starting in about...upper elementary school, I hated dogs. Couldn't stand them. I had no interest in petting dogs or looking at dogs or being near dogs. Travis always had a dog growing up. He LOVES dogs. I knew when I married him that I'd have to figure out a way to tolerate dogs. And now? Now I love them! I mean, I don't necessarily love ALL dogs, but I'm much better now than I used to be. And I really truly love our dogs. A lot. Learning to adapt and grow together is a really wonderful thing.