Milk mustache, shmilk mustache

Milk mustaches ain't got nothin' on blueberry smoothy mustaches.

Snow day!!!!

This is the first snow day we've ever had since Kate started school.  She didn't even know what it meant.  Until we explained otherwise, she thought Dave and I were letting her and Anna stay home to play in the snow.  She didn't realize school was canceled.  

We spent a long time playing outside and building a fort!  What a fun morning!

Pasta

The other night, Dave and I decided to treat ourselves to an "at home date night."  We decided to get ourselves some tacos after the kids went to bed, so we fed the kids first.

I made some pasta with sauce for the kids' meal, and they were all eating it up.  It was the first time in a long time they were all enjoying the same food at the same time.  I said to Dave, "They're eating up a storm!"

Ally nodded, her mouth full of pasta, and explained, "Yep, I like 'storm'!"

Needing scissors and tape

While eating lunch, Luke informed me, "I need scissors and tape."

"You do?" I asked.  "What for?"

"For my pickle," he explained.  "I need scissors and tape for my pickle."

Oh, of course for your pickle!

I don't know how a good mother would respond in this situation, but I was curious.  I got him the scissors and tape.

Why are you taking pictures?

He spent a while with the tape and pickle, mostly using the scissors to cut the tape.  He finally attached the remaining bite of one pickle to the top of an uneaten pickle and with a big smile declared, "I made a rocket!"  Then, waving the taped-together pickles through the air, said, "Blast off!  Bfffffffffffffff!"

Nature vs. Nurture

For those of you not in the distribution area of The Fox Point of View, here's the article that was published in it this month.

I have added back all the offensive stuff I had to cut out for the paper.  Since the editor of this blog (me) isn't worried about keeping things "family friendly," I can leave in such things as the word breast milk and references to vegetarianism.  

Nature vs. Nurture

I always stood on the nurture side in the nature versus nurture debate.  I should have questioned this belief when the puppy I’d spent an entire summer training went on to steal a hat off a kid’s head, grab a Culver’s bag out of someone’s hand as they walked into their house, and break into the public wading pool across the street in the year following this intensive training, but I didn’t.

When my first born daughter turned out to be a smart, cooperative, well-behaved toddler, I knew this was the result of my excellent parenting.  I was baffled when, the second time around, the same parenting resulted in a daughter who tantrumed so loudly we once got kicked out of the library, who splattered soup all over the kitchen because she found it amusing, and who simply responded “no” when she was told to do things.

I started to believe the nature proponents might be on to something.  My first two girls, raised nearly identically, are both wonderful, amazing girls, but they have little else in common.

Kate is very observant, picking up on little details.  Anna, on the other hand, thinks only about what interests her, oblivious to many details in life.  I remember when Kate was about 21 months, I was telling Dave a story in the car. Because Kate knew how to spell her name and recognized herself as the “older daughter” or “firstborn” I carefully explained, “... one child was a being little uncooperative…” All of the sudden, there was an outburst from the backseat, “That’s me! The ‘uncupertive’ child!”  Anna is almost five now, and we can still talk about most things around her.  

Kate is logical, but Anna is passionate.  Kate once asked why I was a vegetarian.  When I told her it seemed really sad to kill an animal, she responded with logic, “Just because you stop eating meat, that doesn’t mean they’ll stop killing animals.”  Anna, on the other hand, once pointed to the fish on ice at the grocery store and demanded an explanation from the person behind the meat counter, “How could you do this to them?”

Kate thinks things through, but Anna is impulsive.  Earlier today Anna ran up to me and asked, “Can I have a bowl of milk so I can lick it up like a dog?”  It would never occur to Kate to lick milk from a bowl, but as a six-year-old she single-handedly organized a lemonade stand to earn money for homeless children, even doing the math involved with totaling and deducting her expenses to figure out her profits.

Kate has never liked silliness or joking.  I remember teasing her once when she was about two and a half.  I pointed to her straw cup and asked, “Oh, Kate, is that your bottle of breast milk?” She looked slightly annoyed and said, “No. This is my cup… of two ‘po-cent’ milk.” Then she shook her head and commented, “You sure are a sassy mommy today.”  But, Anna laughs at our jokes, and she loves to make her own.  Anna is hilarious.  Even Ally knows it.  Once Ally and I were talking about the difference between brother and sister.   I said, "Is Luke your sister or your brother?" She replied, "My brother."  When we got to Anna, I asked, “What is Anna?" Ally replied, with confidence, "Anna is funny."

Kate is ruled my social norms, but Anna is ruled by her sense of fun. We’ve had talks with Anna about what is appropriate, something that just came naturally for Kate.  Anna, just because it gets a laugh if you pull down your pants, doesn’t mean it’s okay to pull down your pants.  I remember once Anna said something a little rude to me and I said, “Anna, that’s inappropriate,” and she responded, “What?  That’s not ‘inappropriate.’ I didn’t show my breasts or my bottom!”

The nature versus nurture topic is interesting for parents to think about as we raise our kids.  Parents have a huge influence in our children’s lives, but our kids are, for the most part, already who they are.  We as parents must do our best to work with the kids we’ve been given, to help them grow to be the best people they can become.  We can help them learn responsibility and how to act with compassion, but we can’t turn our kids into something they aren’t meant to be.  

The control freak in me could be bothered that I don’t have as much control as I thought I’d have.  But, I’m just relieved that I’m not the one to be blamed for Kate’s perfectionism or how easily she cries.  I’m not responsible for Anna’s impulsivity or inattentiveness.  Sure, I may have these very same character traits, but if it’s not been caused with my parenting, if it came through genetics, I’ll just blame my parents instead!

Looking good, buddy!

When I finished getting Ally ready for bed, I went to throw some clothes in the hamper before getting Luke's pajamas on.  When I walked into the hall, this is what I saw:

This poor kid doesn't have a chance, not with a mother who has a camera and can't resist running for it when she finds him wearing nothing but his oldest sister's slippers.

This one cracks me up because
it looks like he's perfected an underwear model pose...
if he were wearing underwear.

Anna's five

Despite protests that she wouldn't actually turn five on her birthday, she'd just stay four, Anna did in fact turn five last weekend.  

We were at the Wilderness in Wisconsin Dells, but I snuck a long a cake and her presents for the occasion.  With all the things I had to remember, I neglected to remember my camera.

News to share

On vacation, Ally and Luke slept in cribs in the same room as Dave and me.  One morning, Luke was already awake, hanging with Dave and Anna in the living room.  I was trying to get a little more rest since Ally was still sleeping.

I heard Ally stir, and then she yelled in the direction of Luke's crib,"Lukey, I toot!"

I stifled a giggle, and listened for what she'd say next.

"I toot, Lukey, I toot!"

So little, and so right

I was holding Luke, and Dave and I were discussing something about which I was frustrated.  Although I wasn't yelling, the frustration definitely came through in my voice.  

Just like he'd done another time he'd heard me talking to Dave like that, Luke kept interrupting me saying, "Mama, that's Daddy."

I took a deep breath.  Then I said to Luke, "That's Daddy, so I shouldn't talk to him like that, right?"

 Luke agreed, "Yep, you lub him!"

My little guy is so wise.

Stinker

We went on a mini-vacation as a family over the weekend, and, as she does whenever Dave is around, Ally was really favoring Dave.

At one point, I picked her up and snuggled her.  "Ally," I said, kissing her cheek, "sometimes I feel like you don't love me.  Do you love me?"

Ally thought for a moment.  "Ummmmmm..." she started, and finally, with a slight smirk continued, "...nope."

"Ally!" I said, trying to hide my own smile, "Are you joking?"

"Lep [Yep]," she said smiling, "I joking!"

Ally and me, on a ride in the Dells.

We love pretzels

I love soft pretzels.

Oh, and all you anti-wheat people out there... 

I have been cutting down on the amount of wheat in our diets, substituting rice or rice noodles at times and eating less carbs in general.

But, when I'm in the mood for a pretzel, I don't care if the modern wheat plant is the result of genetic modification, I don't care if wheat plants were actually antennae aliens from the planet Schnurp use to spy on the human race, when I want a fresh from the oven soft pretzel, I want it. 

I stay lie in bed some nights thinking of the soft pretzels we'll make the next day, dipped in pizza sauce or some gooey salsa con queso... umm, heavenly.

And making pretzels is such a fun family activity.  I can now boast that two of my kids learned to form a pretzel before they were five.

There's a monster

This was one of my favorite books as a kid, this exact same book.

It has two more fans.

 

Meet Willow

Last Wednesday, we adopted a seven and a half week old Holland lop.  

It took us weeks of deliberation before she arrived to pick out a name for her.  Anna, Ally, and Luke had loved the name Lilac, but Kate couldn't stand it.  Kate and Anna liked Clover, but I thought it sounded more like a boy's name.  I really liked Petunia, but I was alone on that one.  Kate and I both liked Rue until Dave ruined it for me with a Golden Girl reference. When we passed a weeping willow driving to Racine, I pointed it out and suggested the name.  I had four takers.  It was decided.

Now I wonder why we bothered picking a name at all, since Luke and Ally both call her Desi, the name of our hamster before the current one, and when I ask them what her name really is, Ally says, "Rabbit," and Luke says, "Hopper."  Anna, a little bitter about getting voted down on "Clover," calls her that instead.

It took Willow a few days to settle in, but she's doing great.  She now lightly chatters her teeth when I hold her, akin to a cat purring, and even climbs up to give me little licks on the neck.

Simple pleasures

The twins and I ran to the grocery store today to grab things we needed to make a cake for Anna's birthday tomorrow.  While I was there, I thought I'd pick up a card for her, since she was so excited about the one she got yesterday.

Luke pointed at the balloons.  I debated if I should get Anna one.  Was it worth the $2.99?  Would she like it, or would it just deflate while we were gone this weekend?

I got it, and then proceeded to try to check out with two two-year-olds fighting over the balloon in the cart, one of whom has a very loud scream when she is angry, and I additionally managed to misplace my credit card amidst the chaos, as well.

I decided it was not worth it.

When Anna got off the bus, Ally handed her the balloon, and Luke and I said, "Happy Birthday."

Anna was elated.  She exclaimed, "I can't believe this!  This is the first time I've ever had a balloon of my own."

(I'm quite certain she has had many balloons of her own, but that's for an "Oh, Anna" post sometime.)

She skipped around the snow covered driveway, her balloon bobbing in the air above her.  

She pulled it behind her through the house, singing about it. 

She asked if "Blue Balloon" could join her for lunch, and when I agreed, she shared lunch with it.

Yeah, definitely worth it.

Goodbye, Mason

We said goodbye to our Mason last week.

We said goodbye to 

our first baby, 

Kate's first sibling, 

a member of the family, 

and a huge part of our lives.

It happened suddenly.  

Within a couple days of when we suspected he might be sick, 

x-rays showed he had advanced lung cancer.

My first instinct was to think they had it wrong.  

But, it was confirmed by an oncologist.

I asked how long he had, 

expecting the answer to be a number of weeks, 

but it was a number of hours.

I took him home for the day, for one more night, 

to give everyone a chance to say goodbye.  

It would be Mason's last day of life.  

I wanted to make it special,

but I couldn't do anything for him.

He couldn't play, because he couldn't breathe.

And no special treats or delicious meal.

He turned down most foods

and threw up the rest.

So we just made him comfortable

and gave him lost of love and cuddles.

Anna had a lot of questions when I told her.

Couldn't we just not take him back to the vet, so they couldn't make him die?

And she wanted to know how we would visit him if he did die.

Would we have to lift a big rock and go under it?

My dad came down to say goodbye to this dog who'd always adored him.

When I told Kate, 

she was hysterical.

She didn't even want to see Mason.

It would make her too sad.

I tried to encourage her to say goodbye, 

but she just sobbed.

I gave her medicine to help her sleep.

A few minutes after I put her to bed, she came to the top of the steps,

"He's always been here," she told me,  "I've never been alive without him."

We spread out blankets 

and Kate, Dave, and I slept by Mason his last night on Earth.

The next morning, as we got ready to leave for the vet

Luke ran up and told me out of nowhere, 

"Mason lubs me."

Had Mason told him goodbye?

The vet and her staff showed us so much kindness.

They gave us our time to say goodbye, 

to help Mason transition peacefully from life.

It was one of the most painful things I've ever done in my life.

How could I properly say goodbye?

Where was he going after this?

Why don't my beliefs about God explain the afterlife of pets?

I told him he would feel better soon, 

I told him I loved him, that he was a good boy,

I thanked him for sharing his life with us,

and I told him to have fun where ever he was going.

I remember walking back to the car.

I couldn't believe our dog was dead.

Dave and I held each other in the front seat.

I told Dave how he was always a great friend to Mason,

that Mason was lucky to have him.

The day after we put him to sleep, 

Kate made a beautiful card telling Mason she loved him.

She weeped and said she wished she could give it to him.

She drew a heart on Mason's chest
and a heart on her own, circling both.

For a few days, I would forget, just for a moment, that he was gone.

I'd make a move for his bowl with the peanut butter and jelly crusts he loved,

and it hurt so badly to throw them away.

I'd expect him to be at the door when we came home, 

and when he wasn't, I felt so hollow.

When we had first come home from the vet, 

I'd quickly cleaned up everything of his, 

so I wouldn't have reminders everywhere.

I thought it would hurt less.

And although it did hurt to find that stray tennis ball under the couch, 

it hurt so much more to see the empty spot where his bowls always were

or the blank carpet where his bed is supposed to be.

Mason became a part of our lives soon after Dave and I were married, 

just after we moved into our first house.

He was with us as we struggled to have a baby and failed countless times.

He'd let me soak his fur with tears,

and he'd lick my hand, letting me know it would be okay.

He was our comfort.  

We gave him our love and our attention;

he gave us his love and a distraction from the hard things in life.

He greeted me at the door after every rough day of teaching in the inner city,

bringing me rope to pull or a ball to throw, to take my mind off things, 

or suggesting we go to the dog park, to get me some fresh air.

He accompanied us on vacations.

He tried our patience and, in the process, gave us countless laughs.

He shared our excitement when we finally did conceive

and was beside me all those weeks on bed rest, 

keeping me company, resting his head on my leg.

And he loved our children when they came into our lives, 

never jealous of the attention they had that once belonged to him.

He patiently waited if we forgot to get him food

or if we were too busy with diapers to let him out just yet.

He gratefully took the attention we did give him,

even if his walks were interrupted for an hour 

while the kids played at the park.

The grief comes in waves.  

Just when I think I'm doing okay

Luke asks me again,  "When Mason come home?"

Or he tells me, "Mason my dog, but he not at my house.  

He at the doctor."

Or Anna says, "I can't wait until I die, because then I can see Mason again."

Or I see a picture of a dog sleeping by a kid on Facebook,

and I think of the empty spot on the floor where Mason slept by my girls.

Or I come across a sweatshirt that hasn't yet been washed and see his hair on the sleeve.

Or I hang up his collar in memorial and the twins excitedly exclaim in unison, 

"Mason home!"

Or we go out in the snow without Mason for the first time in over ten years.

Or Dave or I bring up a memory, 

to pay homage to the dog we loved,

and Kate, once again, pleads, 

"Please!  Don't talk about M. a. s. o. n.  It makes me too sad."

I've learned it's one thing to grieve for your dog,

and it's another to grieve for your children losing their dog.

Neither are easy.  

But they are different things.  

Parents have to do both.

The way I've grieved for Mason, 

is to collect pictures of his life and make it into a book.  

I hope this will also help my kids 

remember this member of their family.  

Here are some of my favorite pictures I found:

Memorial Day, 2002
We first get to take Mason home.

He loved to cozy up  on the bottom shelf of the entertainment center.

He really wanted to play with our cat,
but she didn't want anything to do with him at first.

Behind the toilet was evidently the coolest place in the house.
He loved to lie there that first summer,
until one day he discovered he had grown too big to get back out.

Mason made friends with the neighborhood kids.

Another cozy spot he would soon outgrow.

We took Mason on a road trip to North Carolina.

Mason loved the dog park.
We went there several times a week those first few years.

"Can you believe this cat?"

Mason's patience paid off.  He to a new friend.

Invitation to Mason's first birthday party.
He invited his five closest canine friends.

Mason loved sliding down the snow in the mountains of Colorado.
He also found the horse poop on trails delicious...

These two became inseparable.

Mason loved to get muddy.

Camping in Door County
He wasn't allowed in this pool,  but he snuck in.

At the Schwake's cabin

Mason learned he's going to be a big brother.

A week in Michigan with Uncle Kevin and Aunt Sarah.

His first Halloween costume.  Ay, Matey.

Looking through my old pictures, I found I'd entitled this "Family Picture."

We stay in a cabin in the mountains of Tennessee.
We kept insisting he couldn't go into the hot tub,
and he couldn't have disagreed more.

Mason adored his new "sister."

"Are you really going to..."

"Yes.  You are."

Anna and Mason became fast friends, as well.

"That's my fur."

Mason couldn't believe we had more.

But he liked them just fine, too.

The twins both loved giving Mason treats.
He was always so gentle.

"Uh, do I lay on your bed, Ally?"

Mason's favorite Christmas present this year.

Just a month or so ago.

He always loved catching snow in his mouth.

Goodbye, you crazy, sometimes obnoxious dog, with a heart of pure gold.

You are missed.