The Great Schnauzer Swap

It's a long story. One that really can't be made short. Suffice it to say that my mother and I worked together on this interesting scheme... I apologize ahead of time!

About a year ago, my mom acquired a miniature schnauzer pup from an allegedly redneck family going through a divorce. She had symptoms of abuse and my mom and her fiance, Paul, were glad to bring her into their home. They named her Sassy.

Not too much longer after that--in fact, it was in March of 2010--Rob and I decided we needed to bring a dog into our home "for Ryan". We went to a shelter and were totally psyched about bringing home a mutt. Much to our surprise, we saw Salty and fell in love. He looked like a full-bred miniature schnauzer. He's a little on the large side of the minis, but he fit into our family quite well. Salty had come to the shelter with a horrific wound on his backside, just above his tail. The shelter workers said it looked like someone had tried to skin him alive. We brought him home and have loved him ever since.

In May 2010, we went and visited my mom. Salty and Sassy were like old buds. They played together all day long and were tuckered out by evening. Mom's older dog, Coal, was grateful for the respite; Sassy had become her arch enemy because she had so much energy! Salty and Sassy were great companion dogs. Also of note: Salty had been biting and licking hot spots all over himself until he met Sassy. We had been keeping "the cone of shame" on his head for weeks to help heal his self-afflicted wounds. The whole week we were at my mom's house, Salty didn't lick himself once! Mom and I talked about possibly letting the Rose family have Sassy, but it never amounted to anything. Rob and I were serious about finding a companion for Salty. We felt it was worth our while if it helped keep him from licking himself all the time.

I started a new job in August and a coworker mentioned to me that she was trying to find a good home for the white schnauzer she rescued. Did you know there was such a thing? I had never even heard of an all-white schnauzer! Her name was Molly. We fell in love immediately and she was such a sweet thing. Her story is really sad. She is a puppy mill survivor. She showed so many signs of abuse and Rob and I had so much compassion for her. The poor thing was so timid--she was afraid of her own shadow. Literally. While Salty was incredibly interested in our pet rabbit and was set to attack it at any given opportunity, Molly would run out of the room every time it moved! She was so sweet, though, and very cuddly! We had every intention of keeping her forever.

Then, my mom mentioned how her old dog didn't like Sassy. I mentioned how Salty wasn't exactly enamored with Molly. That's when the scheme took on a life of its own.

Mom planned on visiting us after the baby was born. She would bring her two dogs and we would see how Salty and Sassy got along in Salty's territory. We would also see how well her older dog and Molly got along.

Well, to finally get to the point: Salty and Sassy renewed their friendship, Molly and Coal were able to enjoy being old dogs together and peace was established all over the board. Mom took Molly back to Mississippi with her and left Sassy here with us. We think it's the best fit for all the dogs. Molly will be in a home with less chaos and Coal will enjoy being rid of ball-of-fire Sassy. Salty and Sassy have each other to wear out and play all day long. So far, it's working really well.

We miss Molly, but we know she's better off with my mom. You can see her sad eyes in her picture.

Sassy (top left) and Salty (bottom right). It's almost hard to tell them apart because their coloring is so similar. They both need grooming right now, but we're going to wait until the weather is consistently warm. For now, we'll just have to be the ones with the scruffy schnauzers.

Necessity is the Mother of Invention

Ok, well I didn't necessarily "invent" this, but I certainly took a great idea and ran with it. Ellie had been fussy all day long and I just couldn't put her down. I mean, I could have put her down, but the consequences of such an action would have been immense. You see, when the baby cries, it doesn't stress me out; I know that babies cry and she's certainly not the first baby to ever cry in my presence. The kids, however, are a different story. When she cries, they start hollering about how she's hungry, or she needs to poop, or some other made-up reason that makes sense to them. Then, they start getting stressed out because I'm not responding rapidly enough. Their stressing out causes me to stress out and the baby's cries end up in a screaming crescendo.

We have been snowed-in for a couple days now. Ellie has been getting increasingly fussy as the days wear on and I decided yesterday that I needed a sling. With the roads being completely useless, I am not able to go out and purchase one. Being the resourceful woman that I am, I started to look around the house for a remnant of fabric that would be long enough to make a sling out of. Wouldn't you know it--I had no remnants of fabric. After all, I don't sew.

Then, I remembered that I had something even better--twin sized sheets!!! Surely a top sheet was long enough. I could tie a square knot in it and sling it over my shoulder. It'll do, right?

Sure enough, it was perfect! I didn't have to cut or sew anything and no other materials were necessary. It'll do, for now.

Baby seems to like it and I was able to get a few loads of laundry done today--using BOTH hands! What a concept!

Some things I learned during the Snowpocalypse of 2011

1. Husbands are more excited than kids when it comes to a blizzard
2. Kids think it's funny to wear shorts and short sleeves in the house while it is pouring down snow outside
3. Babies will poop just as much during a blizzard; have plenty of diapers on hand
4. Powdered milk tastes bad. Do not believe the writing on the package; they are lying!
5. People who are addicted to caffeine will spend 3 hours shoveling a driveway in sub-zero temperatures in order to get the van out of the garage and into a WalMart, where there is caffeine
6. Dogs do not like to pee in the snow
7. Dogs do not like to go out in the snow
8. Dogs will poop and pee on your carpet instead of in the snow
9. I want to kill my dogs
10. A snow day is great; a snow WEEK, however, is a recipe for disaster
11.When in a pinch, an upside-down lawn chair makes a great snow shovel.
12. No matter how bad it is, people will always work together and help out their neighbors in need--this includes helping to rock a car out of a snow bed and lending snow shovels to non-caffeinated geniuses
13. Do not, for any reason, leave your laptop unsupervised during a blizzard; it will mysteriously and/or spontaneously fall off its table and shatter into a million pieces
14. Best Buy does not stay closed during a blizzard, thankfully (there must be a lot of unsupervised laptops around here)
15. My kids play really well with each other until about 2 p.m.
16. 2 p.m. is nap time, apparently
17. No matter how much water a humidifier dumps into a house with gas heat, you will still get shocked every time you touch metal
18. A 4 foot snow bank will hold up a 7 foot wooden fence that would otherwise fall over
19. Snow can melt from the bottom up
20. No matter how quirky and how cooped-up my family is, I wouldn't trade them for anything (the dogs, on the other hand...)

Milk from there

Elliana is 1 month old today. Having kept her home this whole time, I was getting antsy to go back to church and worship with my fellow believers. This morning, I decided, was the best morning to start back again. It really helped that Ellie let me get a good night's sleep last night, only waking me up 2 or 3 times to eat and change a diaper. I got a 4 hour stretch in there, as well! So, she and I got all gussied up this morning and headed off to church with the rest of the family.

When we got to church, Aurora and Ryan walked around with me while we waited for their Sunday school teachers to arrive. Both the older kids were beaming proudly, showing off their big sister/brother skills. Aurora would let everyone in on some sweet little fact about her little sister. The adults would all smile and giggle at her and she puffed up with each turn. Ryan, not to be outdone, kept trying to come up with some fascinating fact about Ellie. I was watching him as his older sister got all the attention; I could see the wheels turning in his mind as he frantically searched for something Aurora had forgotten to mention. I had no idea what we were in for.

Ryan finally came up with his exciting fact when we introduced the baby to his Sunday school teacher, who is a man. The fact Ryan decided to share with him? Brace yourself:

Ryan said, "This is my little sister and she drinks milk from THERE!" (and, yes, he pointed right at my chest)

I was mortified! Of course, it's ok to breastfeed. I mean, obviously I feel that way--I do it! But, the look on his Sunday school teacher's face was one of absolute embarrassment. I don't know who he was embarrassed for more, me or him! I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me whole! Ryan, completely oblivious to the squirms going on all around him, walked into the classroom so proud of his special Elliana fact.

I walked away, hoping this man would compartmentalize that memory to some recessed corner of his mind that would be forgotten in 2 minutes.

The Hazards of Growing Up with Girls

Ryan has 2 sisters and a Mommy. He adores us all. This whole house is full of everything pink. Unfortunately, as a result of all our girly-ness Ryan has fallen prey to many a girly antic.

Today was not an exception. Ryan and Aurora have been playing so well with each other since Elliana came along. It's almost like they have a common ground now that they both have a little sister; they have been clinging to each other so much. Their fighting has even lessened, much to my absolute surprise and benefit.

Back to today, though:

The kids had been back in Aurora's room for quite some time, playing gleefully. They had not been quiet, but they had been keeping each other entertained and weren't fighting. So, I left well enough alone. When it was time for lunch, I called both kids out to their plates at the table and they came running out screaming something about "starving". That's when I noticed it:

Ryan's fingernails were PINK. I'm talking "Hello, Kitty" pink! Very casually and calmly, I asked him what happened to his fingers.

"Oh, Aurora did this." he said. He then took a bite out of his sandwich. Nothing out of the ordinary going on here, he supposed. I stifled a laugh. What would Rob think? Oh, my goodness! Daddy already has had to accept that Ryan loves everything little and baby. What would he think if our Squinky-loving and baby-loving son started wearing nail polish? No, I think we must draw the line somewhere. I think we may have just found where the line must be drawn.

So, I explained to Ryan that he could wear his nail polish for today only, but we were going to remove it at bedtime.

"Why?" he asked. I then explained to him that nail polish was really for girls to make themselves look pretty. Boys don't want to look pretty; they want to look handsome and nail polish is too pretty to be handsome. I let him down easily, and I hope he understands.

I am not one of those sexist people who thinks that boys need to be all about trucks and dinosaurs and lizards and LEGOs. My son is into all that stuff, anyway. For goodness' sakes, he had a Dinosaur-themed birthday party just last month! He just happens to have an older sister he adores. I think he was proud that she paid enough attention to him today and painted his nails during said attention-giving. For once, it was all about him and not about her--even if it was girly nail painting.

Anyway, the nail polish has now been removed and Rob is none-the-wiser (until he reads this blog post, that is). Ryan is pleased that he now looks handsome instead of pretty. Aurora got to paint someone's fingernails today. All in all, I think everyone's happy and we can now go to bed fully satisfied.

She's Not the Mother!

Last night, Rob and I were sitting on the couch with the baby around 9 p.m. when we heard 2 voices back in the bedrooms having a conversation with each other. Now, bedtime in our house is 8 p.m. Those 2 voices should have been snoring instead of chatting with each other.

Rob, being the excellent father that he is, went back to do some investigating. He noticed that Ryan was not in his room; he was in Aurora's room. While Rob was standing outside her room, assessing the situation to determine the best course of action, he kept hearing a very tired Aurora saying, "Get out of my room... Ryan, get out of my room, please. *yawn* ...Get out of my room." Her protests were falling on deaf ears, however. Ryan was happily playing on the floor of her room, paying absolutely no mind to Aurora's plea--and blissfully unaware of his father standing outside the door.

Now Rob, being the soft-hearted father that he is, decided to take a gentle approach. He told Ryan he didn't belong in Aurora's room after bedtime and that he needed to get in his bed and stay there.

Aurora, being the epitome of the oldest sibling, simply stated "I told him to get out of my room!" And, she was right. She had told him that. Over and over and over again. He just didn't listen. And, why didn't he listen? His next statement summed it all up:

"You're not the mother, Aurora!"

I guess he thought he didn't need to obey her command to get out of her room because she wasn't Mommy.

What am I gonna do with that boy?!?!?!?

Elliana Noel Rose--December 30th 2010

Well, folks, it FINALLY happened! That's right. I gave birth. Phew! Now, we can scratch that one off the list and get our tax break, to boot!

Just kidding! It's not all about the tax break. It's now all about our beautiful baby girl! And, she is just fascinating! After our 2 miscarriages in a row, we are not taking one thing for granted with this little one. The older 2 kids are more precious to us now, as well.

So, here's the story:

I went to the OB on December 22nd and had an ultrasound to measure the baby. I was 37 weeks at the time. He measured me and the baby and decided that she was growing big. I had been begging my OB to induce me at 38 weeks because I was just sure that if he let me go full-term that I would have a 10 lbs. baby. After measuring the baby at 7.5 lbs (according to his machines--I thought she was already 8 lbs.), he agreed that she needed to come out soon. When he mentioned her induction date would be in December, I told him I could kiss him! That meant that I only had 8 more days of being pregnant! I was beside myself with pure joy! I was going to meet my baby girl in 8 days!!! That was a heck of a lot better than the 19-20 days I was counting down.

Christmas came and went. The kids kept asking when the baby was coming. I gotta be honest, I was trying everything in my own power to will this child out of my body. To no avail. The Braxton-Hicks contractions kept coming regularly, but never progressed beyond annoying. I took bath after bath, trying to relax my body into labor. There were a few other tricks I tried, but none of them worked.

Ryan's birthday came and went. I was grateful that she didn't come on his birthday. He's already going to be the middle child and I didn't want him to have to share his actual birth date with his little sister. I hobbled through that day quite well. And, I was hobbling and waddling quite a lot by this point!

FINALLY, December 30th arrived. I had been having regular contractions every 3-4 minutes the night before, but since I was scheduled for an induction at 5:30 a.m. and we had childcare lined up for that, I just ignored them (as best I could) and waited to go to the hospital. After all, my water hadn't broken and they weren't hurting yet. Sure enough, when they hooked me up to the machines at the hospital, I was registering regular contractions and was asked by the nurses why I didn't come sooner. *sigh* Trust me, I wanted to!!! They started me on pitocin immediately and my contractions started getting stronger, longer, and closer together--rather quickly, I might add. Quick enough that I was asking for an epidural shortly afterward.

At about 8 a.m., my OB strolled into our room and asked me how I was doing. I had my epidural and couldn't feel a thing anymore, so I was doing great! He broke my water and left to attend his other patients.

Around noon, I was told I was at 6 cm and it wouldn't be long now. I took a nap. I woke up from my nap to be checked again. 9 cm. That was around 1:30 p.m. Sweet!!!

About an hour later, the doctor came in again and told me his other patient was having a tough time pushing. He said something to the effect of "Let's try a push and see where you're at." Famous last words. I warned the nurses that I was told I was a "good pusher" with my other deliveries. So, I gave a push. The doc started laughing and said he'd be right back. Apparently, my one push was enough to start delivering my baby!

He suited up and came back in. I gave one more good push and the baby was O-U-T!!! And she was on my chest and I was holding her and it was GLORIOUS! She wasn't crying yet and it took a few minutes and a couple nurses to get her crying, but she was healthy and beautiful and BIG! 8 lbs., 8 oz. and 20.5 inches long. Yessireebob, we make big babies.

We've been home now for just over a week and our baby girl is already growing bigger. She's the sweetest little thing. Ellie's just about the most content baby I've ever seen. She rarely cries, except when she's pooping--which she does more often than I think necessary!!!

Today, January 10th, was my due date. I now hold an 11 day old baby in my arms and am so grateful to God for His many blessings on our lives. It's been quite a journey to get here. We've learned many things over the past 2 years, some good lessons, some painful lessons, but in all I'd say it's been worth it. So worth it.

Elliana Noel Rose

b. December 30th 2010

3:09 p.m.

8 lbs. 8 oz., 20.5 in.