The Negligent Mommy

In which we discover that Lucy has quirks.

Official verdict from the vet is that (1) Lucy is mostly Border Collie and (2) that she is about 7 months old.  And also that she has hookworrms and a touch of mange, but we're not discussing that.

We have also learned that Lucy likes socks.  We were aware of an affection for feet--she cannot stop licking our feet--but the sock thing ... well.  She likes little, soft things to chew on, see, and socks are little and soft.  And if they are still attached to feet, so much the better.  Then she can nibble at them to get them off.

It was my feet she chose to nibble at this evening (I was going about sock-footed prior to the kids' bedtime, so I could put on running shoes and take Lucy out later).  That was a bad move on her part, because I hate anyone messing with my feet (except a beautician administering a pedicure, natch).  Seriously, people.  I turn into a screaming bitchy shrew if Chuck's feet so much as touch mine under the covers.  So a dog nibbling on my socks?  Bad scene.

But of course I forgave her, because of that whole thing about her being ridiculously cute.

A dog's life, day four

The cats completely hate my guts.  I have seen only mere glimpses of them since Saturday afternoon--they scatter the second Lucy and I come back in the door from our walk.

But it's okay, because Lucy's little ears are reallyreallyreally soft.

Excuse me, must go rub them more.

Sing along, everybody!

I'm gonna buy me a dog,
Because I need a friend now.

I'm gonna buy me a dog,
My cat, my cat don't love me no-how...

Meet Lucy, a sweet little girl of unknown provenance (but who, by my best Googling, is a red and white border collie, and not a "Nova Scotia Duck Tolling Dog" as she was labeled at the Humane Society.  But hey, they were calling her "Betty", when she so clearly is NOT a Betty, so what do they know?).  We have been planning to get a dog for some time now.  (By "we" I mean the boys and I; the best I can say about Chuck is that he is not overtly hostile.)  So I went to the Humane Society on Friday to check on a Golden Retriever that they had listed on the website.  That dog turned out to be much more Labrador Retriever than Golden, so I passed on her.  But there was Betty/Lucy in the same cage, and she was so sweet. And now she's ours.

It's been a bit of an adjustment.  I was maybe seven when the only dog my parents ever owned died, and I haven't had one since, so this is all very new.  But so far we're doing pretty well.  She's whip-smart; "sit" took her about two minutes to learn, and she's rapidly catching on that Mommy goes through a door first.  She's even getting better at "heel". 

Needless to say, the boys love her.

MarthBob rides again

Yes friends, it's me, MarthaBob Stewart-Villa, preparing to embark on another home-improvement odyssey.  It's a time-trial:  How much can we accomplish before I host my book club on January 24, without (a) going broke, or (2) killing any or all family members who might get in my way (I make no apologies for any non-permanent injuries that may be sustained.  It's called "assumption of risk"; look it up.)

First up:  Andy's bedroom, which will henceforth be Andy and Owen's bedroom:

Nice, but a bit babyish (which is fitting, since Andy took up residence here when he was only two).  Not the kind of place where superawesomecoolkid and his sidekick, Owenboy, can hang out or entertain the ladies.  Not that there will be any of that going on.  Whatever.

Stay tuned for the magical transformation of this space!

I was BUSY, okay?

It would appear that I forgot to blog yesterday.  This doesn't surprise me, really, since I lot of things tend to go by the wayside on Saturday.  Saturday is my day to not be super-organized and on top of things.  Saturday is the day when I am most likely to say "screw it, we're ordering Chinese" when I am asked what's for dinner; it is the day I am least likely to go for a run and most likely to eat my own weight in junk food.

Don't get me wrong--I do a lot of things on Saturdays.  It's just that they tend to be things I *want* to do, not the things I *have* to do.  So yesterday, we bought a bunkbed for the boys.  As of last night, they are officially sharing a room, and Owen's former bedroom will become my office, which I will share with those who ask nicely and promise not to make a mess.

This spring I'm going to do something of a "domino effect" renovation.  Step one is to get the boys into the same room (done) and decorate it (working on that part).  Then I can move the desks and office stuff from the dining room to Owen's old room, and turn that into a home office.  Once that's accomplished, I can make the dining room into an actual dining room.

So, pretty soon you'll see "before" pics of the boys' room, and of all the other rooms in sequence.  And there will be some work in the garden, too. Wheeee!

We Jammin'

So, I've got a new blog name, as you may have noticed.  The address is the same, no need to update your bookmarks.

Why, why, why?  you cry in dismay.  Why have you changed the name of your blog?  Well, I answer, because it didn't suit.  I don't have nearly enough knitting time to actually turn this into a "real" knitting blog.  FOs are few and far between for me.  And as for other crafting (remember, the subtitle was "the crafting speaks for itself"), there never has been any, other than in my head.  (In my head, I am a brilliant, brilliant crafter.  I crank out quilts and cute dresses and completed cross-stitch projects like nobody's business.)  And, quite frankly, I've never really liked it.  And since this is  my little blog world, and y'all are only visiting, I changed the name.

And last night, in a flash of insight, I came up with the new title and subtitle.  And I like them both very, very much.  I like the tongue-in-cheek tone of it; if nothing else, it will serve to remind me to chill the heck out regarding this whole motherhood thing that I'm doing.  It occurred to me this weekend that, while Andy and Owen watch a little more TV than I like (and even then, only on weekends, since TV is absolutely banned on anything vaguely resembling a school night), that's only because I am expending all my energy teaching them to be polite and caring people/members of society.  We are not making elaborate creations out of fun foam because I have to choose my priorities, and teaching them to wash their hands after going potty and to care for those who are hurting wins, hands down.  We'll make a get-well card for a friend, and then I'll clean the kitchen while they watch Digimon.  I can live with that.

All right then, enough navel gazing.  (Thanks be to all that is holy, I hear you say.)  Wanna know about the title of this particular post?  Of course you do.

Two words, my friends:  Roller Derby.

I read an article about the resurgence of roller derby a couple of years ago, and instantly decided it was for me.  I may look all sweet and demure, but I am still the same woman who took kickboxing until the seventh month of her first pregnancy because there are few things as fun as beating the crap out of a heavy bag.

So last week, I stopped to get a coffee and was informed that the local roller derby team was doing a car wash out back as a fundraiser.  The car wash was over, but they were still there and I had a lovely little chat with the team members, who were very encouraging.  And then I went home and informed my husband (in what he referred to as my "I'm not kidding" voice) that I wanted to do it.

I'm so completely suited to it.  Rink rash is sexy, as they say, and I bruise easily and colorfully.  I even have my name:  Missy Demeanor.  Heh.

Now I just need to learn how to skate ....

How to recaulk a shower in three easy weeks.

Prep Work:

Six months out:  Mention to husband need to recaulk shower due to invasion of mildew despite best cleaning efforts.  Remind husband that this has been done twice before.  Get pissed off when he doesn't take the hint and buy you a flamethrower for your anniversary.

Four months out:  While boys are playing on lawn tractors at Lowe's, remember recaulking project.  Purchase caulk that promises it will not be seduced by the dulcet tones of the mildew beast.

Three months out:  Engage in serious discussion re: recaulking project.  Conclude that selling house would be preferable to recaulking, were it not for the fact that shower must be recaulked in order to make house saleable.  Swear repeatedly.

Two months out:  Having forgotten previous caulk purchase, buy caulk that swears its Daddy will totally kill if it stays out past curfew with anything mildewy.

One week out:  Discuss caulking project again.  Conclude that burning house to the ground may be the best option.  Agree, reluctantly, to recaulk as alternative to committing insurance fraud.

The Actual Project:

Week One, Day One: (1)  Remove all personal items from shower and transport them to children's bathroom.  Have discussion with four-year-old re:permission to share his tub.  Pull rank when permission is denied.

(2) Remove 3/4 of caulk from shower, with "help" of six-year-old.

Week One, Day Two:  fall deathly ill.

Week One, Day Five:  Help six-year-old write story for school about how people really ought to ask before they start using other people's tubs.

Week Two, Day Two:  Discover, with aid of four-year-old, that Daddy's shampoo makes really great bubbles.

Week Two, Day Four:  Remove remainder of caulk and clean shower.  Spray liberally with bleach solution. Run gagging from the room.

Week Two, Day Five:  Suffer relapse.

Week Two, Day Six - Week Three, Day Four:  Avoid looking in the direction of shower when in the bathroom.  Reconsider arson/insurance fraud option; wonder if the showers in prison are mildewy.

Week Six, Day Five:  (1) Feel human again.  Resolve to put in new caulk without further delay.

(2) Suffer delay caused by inability to open seal on tube of caulk.  Realize, with all sincerity and humility, that average construction worker with high-school education is smarter than you with all your book learnin'.  Enlist husband for use of brute force.

(3) Complete caulking operation.  Enjoy how pretty and white the caulk looks, knowing that it will be nasty and mildewy (again) in 8 months, at which time you are seriously breaking out the matches.