The Doctor

Don't get too excited. It's not what you think. While I could write books about my love for Doctor Who, this post isn't it...Not exactly anyways.

Michael and I were talking about how old our pets are the other day. We are in agreement that, when they pass, we are ready to be catless for a long, long time, but we want the littles to grow up with a pet. We've agreed that we'll get another family dog when that time comes. Sometime during our conversation I told him that we should name this dog Doctor and build him a TARDIS dog house. I probably should have stopped there, but I was on a Doctor themed roll at that point, and proposed that, when Doctor too got old and passed, instead of telling the kids, we can just go buy another dog and tell them that The Doctor regenerated. Over the years we'd have discussions like "I think the 5th Doctor was my favorite!" or "Remember all those strange things the 11th Doctor would eat?" 

By the time I was done with my out loud brainstorming Michael was staring at me, wide eyed, and maybe a little impressed.

"That's brilliant! You need to post that online as some kind of parenting hack or something!" I just laughed at him, and it took awhile, but I've now shared this on Facebook and my blog. 

I'm not sure if we came up with the best or worst parenting hack ever, but we have established that we are 100% geeky.

I was going to try to find a picture to go with this post, so Googled "Doctor Who Dog". I am entirely impressed with some of the things the fandom has come up with! 

Hopefully we won't have to worry about this for quite awhile. I mean, our animals are only 17, 13, and 12. At least we have a back up plan now. 

A New Pet

We have a new pet. Grandpapa and Parker found it lost and alone on their property, and Parker brought it to me with pleading eyes. I figured that it's small enough, and so cute and fluffy...And besides, Parker had a great name picked out already. :)

Meet Frisbee, the Wooly Worm!

After playing with him for a bit, an old peanut butter jar with holes already punched into it for little creature breathing was found, and after filling it with leaves, bark, and a nice climbing stick, Frisbee was relocated into his new home. 

He seemed happy enough, and the boys were thrilled with him, but I welcomed him with a little more anxiety. After all, as much fun as a fuzzy little wooly worm can be, when ol' Frisbee decided to kick the bucket it would be Mommy who had to pick up the pieces of little broken hearts. I willed the fuzzy wooly worm to live, and live for a long time, while only expecting a few days of joy from him before it would be time to officiate a little wooly funeral. 

We found Frisbee two days before our first snow of the season, which was, perhaps, very lucky for him. The snow fell ten days ago, and in case you were wondering, that means that Frisbee has been a part of our family for twelve days now! He's a very beloved part of the family at this point, even having houses built for him out of waffle blocks, and Sebastian will carry him around the house while I am doing school work with Parker, talking to him about who knows what. What might interest a wooly worm? It doesn't matter, I suppose. Sebastian is happy, and as long as we keep giving him fresh leaves, and his jar isn't dropped on the floor too often, I figure Frisbee is pretty happy too. (Before PETA contacts me with angry letters, Frisbee's jar has never been dropped on the floor...*knock on wood*)

Now, of course, since the boys are so madly in love, I am desperately searching the internet for tips on how to keep wooly worms alive in captivity! There is actually a lot of information out there, which I found exciting. 

I love watching them learn and experience all the wonders of an Ohio Autumn, of which "wooly worms" are apart of. I'm actually kind of hoping that we can raise our little wooly worm into a mother, and though it might seem very silly to some people, I am very thankful for this experience with my boys...Or I will be until Frisbee goes belly up on us, which should be soon now that I have written about how thankful I am for the silly little thing. :)

{Week In Review}

It's been a busy week. I didn't even have time to write this weeks Book Nook post. It's a shame too, because I had a great St. Patrick's Day book to write about...Maybe next week.

Parker had his first St. Patrick's Day! It was beautiful out! Sunny and warm...the perfect excuse to go outside and take some pictures! Not to brag, but I have a beautiful son! Such a great subject to photograph!

When Daddy got home we went outside again, and even ended up at the park! What a great day! 

It was also my oldest's birthday! Shamrock Elizabeth turned 16! (Bet you can't guess why I named her Shamrock!) I can not believe that she's 16 years old. Shamrock has been with me since I was 10 and through so much in my life...I am so lucky to have such a good girl as my sweetie! 

We (and by we I mean Michael and Ivy) spent yesterday cleaning out Ivy's garage. (Finishing the garage actually. This has been a 3 weekend project.) Ivy is letting us use his garage for Parker's First Birthday party, and now it actually looks like a place we could throw a party! We're still figuring out the table and chairs and a few other details, but I think it's going to be great! 

I hope people RSVP. You see, I am not going to make up goodie bags until people RSVP. I will feel terrible if we have a bunch of kids with no goodie bags, but there are so many kids who are invited that I am not going to spend the money making up all these bags to have 5 people show up! I thought about having some done up as Just In Case bags, but we have kids of so many different ages coming that the bags are going to be a little different depending on who it's for. So...No RSVP = No Bag, and I'll just let the parents explain to their children how their being rude results in their kids getting shorted. OK, so that sounds mean, and I really will try to come up with a solution, but I really think it is rude when people don't take he 5 seconds it takes to RSVP to something. It's not their money, so I guess they don't care, but I am trying to plan a party here.

On another topic, someone has kidnapped my happy baby and replaced him with a grouch. Parker has been so moody the last few days that I am sure I have a stunted teenager in my house. I don't know what is wrong with him, but it's making me sad. It's not helping that I'm starting to wean him too, so he cries, I leak and cry...it's a vicious cycle, but I hope it will be over soon. I'm running out of patience...and breast pads.

Thanks for Reading

Our Furbabies

Our furbabies, what most people call "pets", are a very important part of our lives. I know some people might think we're crazy, but if you hear us talking about "The Kids", we're talking about those members of our family with four legs.

Shamrock is our oldest. I can hardly believe that she'll is 16! As her name might have tipped some off, she was born on March 17th, or St. Patrick's Day. I have had her since she was weaned from her mother at 8 weeks old. I was ten then, and we have been together ever since. Shamrock has been in my life even longer than my younger sister.

She has been with me through the worst years after my parent's divorce, through deaths in the family, through all those adolescent fears that plague most teens, (and through some that I am not sure many other people have gone through) and through terrible boyfriends. We joke that, if Shamrock had not approved, I wouldn't have married my husband. He is the first man that Shamrock ever approved of, and some days I think she just might love him more than me. At the least, he is an equal to her, which no one else has ever been. I love her dearly, and one of my biggest fears is losing her.

Jake is our next oldest, though we have had him for the least amount of time. We adopted Jake from a kill shelter back in January of 2007 and he is 7 years old now. He caught both f our hearts in that shelter. While all the other dogs were barking and yipping and going nuts he just stared up at us with his big blue eyes in a kind of desperate plead. He barked only once, as we turned away, and we knew then that he was ours. 

Counting that one bark at the shelter, Jake has probably barked a total of 10 times since we got him. He just doesn't bark at all. Once we got him it became obvious that he had been badly abused. We spent many months turning a trembling, frightened dog into the happy companion we have now. He was constantly at my side when Michael left for BMT, and he is so much a part of our family that I can't imagine us without him. He's our little coward, and we joke that Shamrock would be more likely to attack an intruder, but he is loyal and loving and we are blessed to have found him!

Quintessa, or Tessa, will is 6. Like Shamrock, we have had her since she was weaned. She is "our" cat, but in reality is more Michael's than mine, though she also seems fond of our son to my incredible shock. We got her back in 2004 to keep our then 10 year old Shamrock company while we were gone during the day. We had left for school and work one morning only to come back and find Shamrock crying and crying and we decided that she needed a little friend. Some days they are as close as sisters, and some days they fight like...well, like cats. It is a matter of deep shame if we happen to catch them cuddling or grooming each other, so we usually pretend it doesn't happen.

Though Tessa comes from a long line of "Yellowsprings" cats, who are famous for being HUGE, she is rather petite and delicate. Added to her horrific voice, we assume that there is Siamese in her lineage somewhere. She fancies herself a singer too, which makes it all the worse. She is a true black cat, dark as night even on her nose and her paw pads. Even her whiskers have a dark hue. As much as we call her a pesky little witch, we love her dearly, and she is a wonderful addition to our family.

Douce and Souci are our beautiful little angels. Shortly after we got engaged we found them for sale online. When we got to the place I was nauseated at the conditions in which they were kept. I have never seen such neglected, mistreated animals in my life. It was a disgusting case of abuse, made even more obvious by the fact that Souci attacked any hand that came near her or her sister, while Douce just trembled and licked empty food bowls pitifully. 

Needless to say, we took them home, bathed them, fed them (it had been so long since they had eaten than Douce choked when she tried and we had to manually feed her softened food for awhile) and loved them. Before long we had two beautiful, happy, amazing ferrets on our hands. They came almost everywhere with us, riding happily on our shoulders, in our pockets or, if we were wearing a hoodie, in our hoods. They adored walks on their leashes and were the most playful, happy little animals you could ever hope to meet. 

In the Fall of 2004 Douce, our sweet girl, was diagnosed with cancer. It grew in her mouth and caused her to go blind in one eye. She never complained, never seemed to be in pain...She stayed with us for a few more weeks before we knew it was her time. The day we took her to the vet was beautiful and sunny and she loved on and snuggled us both as if she knew what we were doing and why and was so very thankful. It was a hard day, and I miss our sweet little girl.

They say ferrets shouldn't be alone, but Souci would never accept another little friend, attacking other ferrets when we tried to set up play dates. She was never quite the same again. She still loved us, (and occasionally nipped) but she didn't play anymore. It could have been that she was older, but I will always be convinced that she missed her sister. She had happy years ahead of her though before she too passed, her of old age, in the Fall of 2007. Michael was away in Tech School, and telling him was so hard, but I had some nice final days by her side, loving her and snuggling her and assuring her that I loved her even though she was my feisty little one.

Like I said, I am sure many people would think we were nuts, but our furbabies are family. We aren't so crazy as to think they are equal to our children or anything, but they are "Our Kids", and complete our family as a whole. I know there are people out there who understand what I mean.

Thank you for reading.