A Battle of Wills

I am currently in the fierce grip of a battle of wills.

This battle is with a furry little beast who cannot be controlled no matter how much I yell, slam doors, beg, plead, buy treats or threaten the pound.

If you guessed the hubs you would be wrong.  

It's the dog.

Ooohhhh.... how I detest that wee mongrel.  He used to be sneaky in his bad behavior, slinking around tipping over garbage cans or chewing up plastic dolls.  Now he is blatant in his disrespect.  His nose is buried in the garbage can next to my foot as I type this.

Clearly the dog is not fearful of me.  Despite the fact that I outweigh him by like 300 pounds, he is not impressed.  He believes he is the alpha dog.

The thing that really slays me about this situation is the fact that he knows just when my heart is warming to him.  And then he pounces.

Jasper - real name in case you want to steal him - has found a cozy place to spend his winter days.  He lays in the sunlight streaming through the living room window.  I haven't had the heart to break him of this habit.

Then,this past week, I left him in the living room while we had a picnic dinner in the family room for my Mom's birthday.  When we went back to the living room the dog had eaten two of my mom's gifts.

For real.

The stupid thing is that he ate the boxes, but not the gifts in them.  He was taunting me - showing me what could have been had he so desired.  Not cool.

What am I to do with this animal?  If I kick him out then I feel like a failure. If I make him spend his days in his kennel then I feel like PETA will be knocking my door down.

All I can really do is hope that next time he decides to eat something like that, he'll choke on it.

An Uphill Battle

Whenever people ask - and really, they shouldn't - about the possibility of future Hadley's gracing the earth, I can't help but think about the uphill battle my kids will have.  See, sadly for them, thanks to me, they are predisposed to be klutzes.  Huge klutzes. 

Around lunch time today I got a phone call from a teary Ms. Els up at the elem school saying she'd taken a tumble at recess and was now bleeding from various places on her face.  The school secretary got on the line and told me that I should probably at least come take a look at the damage before I decided whether or not to have her tough it out for the remaining hour of the day (early out Friday).

So, I loaded up the two sibs and we headed up to the school.  There I discovered that Ms. Els had sustained a bloody nose, split lip and cut gums.  She didn't look too fabulous.  My soft and tender mother's heart couldn't leave her there to suffer through the last hour of school.  (Translation:  My mom would have made me suck it up and stay and I've always wished she'd shown a speck of mercy during my childhood.  Sorry Mom.  It's the truth.  Ask my sibs.) 

On the way home Els asked me if this sort of thing had ever happened to me.  Oh, ho, ho.... has it ever!!  I know of at least two times in my childhood that I knocked myself completely unconscious on playground equipment. 

One of those times was in the 5th grade.  I was trying to double skip on the monkey bars - skipping two bars at a time.  I had gone one successful round, so I called my friends over to show them my new mad skills.  However, something went wrong that time and my hand slipped off the bar.  I fell, knocked the side of my head on the post holding up the monkey bars, and woke up after recess was over.  TRUE STORY! 

My faithful friends (the only people left on the playground) were sitting next to me in the sand apparently waiting for me to wake up.  Nice.  Would have been even kinder of them to find ground duty and report the fact that I was laying comatose in the sand... but... we were 10.  They did what they could. 

After regaining consciousness, they helped me hobble into the office where the school nurse lady gave me an ice pack to put in my injured face and then called my mom. 

"LUCKY" me, it was the day of the 5th grade maturation class and my mom was heading down already to attend that special occasion with her oldest girl.  Tender.

Did she check me out?  Nope.  She made me sit through that maturation class with an ice pack on my face and my head already whirling about from lack of oxygen.  Then she threw maturation at me and left when the class was over.  (Thankfully there was a follow up maturation class in 6th grade!)

So I'm a weaker woman that my mom was.  But, I can guarantee, that as a grandma my mom would have not only checked her out of school, but given her a piggy back ride to the car and swung by McDonald's on the way home for a healing shake.  Then she would have massaged her feet while spoon feeding her the ice cream and whispering words of comfort. 

Anyhow, back to the point.  I'm pretty sure Ms. Els is just following in the illustrious footsteps of her forebearers (that being me, and several people on my mom's side of the family).  At least I'll be able to be sympathetic.

Although, I will admit that I burst out laughing when she told me how she'd done it.  It would appear that she was running for one of those bars you can swing on.   Even she is a little unsure of how her hands missed the bar entirely and she instead caught it with her face.... ha ha...

You just can't fight these genes baby.

Valentine's

The ABC's of Valentine's Day at the Hadley Home...

Victoria's Secret (lotion!! - this is a family site!!)

Alka Selzer

Lindt Truffles

Epicac

Nair
Turtles
Immodium
Nestle
Epsom Salts
Snuggles

May you survive the excesses of Valentine's day with those you love.

What's Burning?

Okay, here's the thing...

Last week I decided to actually attempt to follow the directions on the box and cook a frozen pizza on the oven rack rather than on a cookie sheet.

End result = great crispy crust, totally burnt pizza toppings in bottom of oven.

Now, over a week later, my house still reeks when I fire up the oven.

A simple fix would be to clean the oven.  Alas, I am lazy. 

Today as I was baking some cookies for a cute girl I know who is having a birthday, I again regretted cooking that dang pizza on the rack as my entire house filled with the throat burning stench.  (As a side note, I now smell burnt.  I sniffed my shirt to check.)

I was standing there thinking that I can't figure out why I only remember about the stinky pizza rejects when I'm cooking and my oven is hot and I can't do a dang thing about it. 

And then, as I was thinking about my dinner plans I had a light-bulb moment that has led me to this momentous decision....

I am NEVER going to clean the oven.

Because when Hubs comes home and the house stinks he's going to say something about how bad it smells.  But, no more.  Tonight I'm going to tell him that I just didn't have the heart to cook dinner because I didn't want to smell up the house.

Suddenly I am not lazy, but ingenious!  (Not to mention selfless in my regard for Hubs' nasal passages!)

This is the beginning of something beautiful....

Jazzy Up Pard'ner...

I really, truly hope that my latest and greatest idea would not be morally repugnant to those suffering through life with limited mobility. But I just needs me a Jazzy wheelchair!!

This epiphany hit me last night as I was wrapped cozily in my Snuggie after a few episodes of Glee and needing to retire for the evening. I casually mentioned to Hubs that perhaps for Valentine's day he could get me a Jazzy. I could just watch TV in my Jazzy and then zip off to bed when the time comes.

Hubs then replied that while we're at it he may as well install chair lifts so that I could Jazzy over to the stairs and then ride the chair lift up. However, then we'd really need a second Jazzy to carry my tired bones from that point to my bedroom.

I'm fully on board.

But, why stop with using my Jazzy around the house? There's a whole world out there to explore. I wouldn't want to waste my tax dollars by never trying out the new bike lanes my city recently painted about town!!

I do believe I'd start by having my dad beef up the engine and give that puppy a lift. Then, I'd buy a big orange flag and a loud horn (with lot's of sound options) because safety is my first concern.

A drink holder and space heater would be a definite must! How's a girl supposed to enjoy her explorations with thirst or cold pressing down on her?

Next, I'd be forced to spend some of Hubs' hard earned money on a Bedazzler and Bedazzle that puppy to the nine's.

Last, but definitely not least, I'd have a side-car installed for J-Bear to ride in until he can ride a bike. After that point, the side-car would become my chihuahua transportation device. Because every respectable Jazzy operator knows that you must have a pocket pet.

I really feel like the possibilities are endless and just thinking about the wide open world beckoning has brought a smile to my face.

Watch out world.... here I come! Nothing can stop me now!!

Say What?

Two disclaimers are needed for this post.

1 - I do not make this stuff up!!

2 - I find nothing humorous about being deaf.

This past week my brother has been in the hospital having surgery for lung cancer. CANCER STINKS!

Due to this I've been taking care of his "farm". (2 horses, 2 dogs, 2 chickens). Okay, integrity forces me to admit that I haven't been taking quality care of the chickens as a result of a rather nasty rooster attack I endured at the tender age of 12.

One of his dogs is a crazy little boxer named Izzy.

(Pic below is not actually Izzy, but looks just like her.)

Sweet Izzy loves to run, run, run, jump, run, run and run some more. Her spirit cannot be contained!!

Saturday I decided it would be good to get some exercise and decided I'd walk down to the farm, feed the animals and then walk back home. It was lovely.

As I rounded the corner into their neighborhood I saw a bit of a commotion centered around... gasp... was that Izzy? I picked up my pace a bit while my mind frantically searched for ways she could have gotten out. She should have been in her kennel, in the house, surrounded by fencing. No way that little wonder-mutt could have escaped.

As I was pondering that I noticed two people were chasing her around and waving their hands around a lot as they ran after her. Upon closer inspection I realized that those poor people were deaf and they were frantially signing to each other as they attempted to corral this errant K9. I'm sorry, but it was funny!

One of them kept shouting what sounded like "get away", but as I neared I realized that I had been fooled by the poor man's lack of speech ability, and he was really tyring to call the dog to him.

I joined in the fracas and we were able to subdue and contain the hound. Having no way to communicate with the deaf community I hoped one of them could read lips and asked if it was their dog.

They said yes.

Oopsies. I fet a little silly. Hopefully they'll think I was just a good samaritan out for a morning walk rather than a crazy lady. Hopefully.

After I left them to the loading of their pooch into an SUV, I began to wonder if perhaps they were deaf thieves and I had been taken in. But, rest assured that Izzy was snuggled in her kennel when I arrived at the farm.

No escaped boxer pups on my watch!!

As for the Izzy-twin... who knows what road she's running down as I type this. And I can't help put wonder just how many ice-packs her owners will have to put on their hands after such a work out.

He he he....

New Doctor, Please?

One of the hazards of celebrating a birthday as a young child is that you have to then go see the pediatrician for a Well Child exam.

Happy 5th Birthday Cadie Lu!!!

As soon as the balloons had deflated and the sugar rush had calmed down, we once again found ourselves in the waiting room staring at a fish tank.

The pediatrician is quite tricksy (aren't they all?) and always has his nurse be the "heavy" and administer shots and all things yucky. He just breezes in, tickles some tummies, looks in their ears and breezes back out. They love him. They are terrified of his nurse.

I had debated throughout the morning whether or not to tell Cadie Lu that she'd most likely be getting shots as this is her last visit before starting kindergarten in the fall.

I finally broke the news to her over lunch. I handled it with finesse and empathy. (Ha ha... I could hardly type that with a straight face!!) I pretty much just slapped the info on the counter with her pbj and let her chew on it for a while.

When we got to the doctor's office the dreaded nurse, Nurse "M", had Cadie weigh, measured her height, tested her eyes and then asked for a urine sample. Uh... I believe I had blocked that memory from when I took Ms. Els, because I'd forgotten. Cadie was willing to get on the pot, but she was looking at the pee-catching cup like it was an alien and it might try to... well... you know. No urine sample. Surprise, surprise.

Then Nurse M led us to our room and told us to wait a minute.

No sooner had the door had closed behind her, Cadie Lu turned to me and said, "Uh, Mama, I'm gonna need a new doctor."

Me: Why?

Cadie Lu: 'Cause that one will be back and I think she'll be bringing the shot. Can you get me a new doctor?

So I told her that would be fine and her face was all aglow with love for me when the actual pediatrician walked in. Super-Mom to the rescue!!

Imagine her surprise when Nurse M showed up later... needle and all.

He he he he... It was such a good trick!

Really people, isn't it all about finding joy in the mundane?


(How much was truth and how much was fiction? I'll never tell!)