Skip to content

Merry Christmas, 2002!

November 30, 2011

I regret to inform you and ruin your good cheer

But I’ve no time to think up a poem this year.

I’m too busy, don’t hate me or call me a jerk,

But this writing of rhymes is a great deal of work.

You see we’ve enrolled all our children in school

I thought I’d have some free time – HA!  I was a fool.

♥ ♥

Most my days are spent driving my children around

And my face is well known in the shops around town.

Most mornings the kids and I try to catch Mass,

After school I drive someone to some extra class.

So you see, I’m too busy to fire off a poem.

I don’t think I’ll have free time till my kids are grown.

♥ ♥

And speaking of my kids…

♥ ♥

Anna’s awesome at 14, what more can I say?

She enjoys Brighton High where she spends her whole day.

So far she’s brought home some nice friends and good grades,

But she has a teen’s bedroom and could use seven maids!

How I miss the old days when she just played with toys.

Now she’s into the phone, makeup, music and boys!

♥ ♥

Our Benny is quite the enjoyable dude.

He likes dirt, bugs and critters and all noises rude.

He is still into Star Wars, now Harry Potter, too

He enjoys all the members of our household zoo.

He’s a Cub Scout and loves it – He is such a busy creature!

He loves the first grade and plans to marry his teacher.

♥ ♥

Our Kolbe’s an angel and ever so smart.

She is funny, obedient and tender of heart.

She plays dress up and doll house and Barbies galore!

Loves her teacher and pre-school and going to the store.

She and Ben play so nicely and make me so proud.

But those two kids at times sound much more like a crowd.

♥ ♥

Our two pups are both huge now, they each weigh a ton.

They are so dumb but loving and boatloads of fun.

But our house “needed” someone sweet, cuddly and fat.

Since we couldn’t have a baby, we went out and got a cat.

All the fishies in our fish bowl died, we flushed to sort of bury ’em.

Now I’m trying to convince poor Jon that we need an aquarium.

♥ ♥

This year we enjoyed a few fun filled vacations

We explored several states of our beautiful nation.

Ohio, Kentucky, Alabama, Tennessee,

Wisconsin, Minnesota and our beloved U.P.

We toured Space Camp, cool caves and we stuck all our toes

In three chilly Great Lakes (see the photo enclosed.)

♥ ♥

When THE birthday time came, dear Jon gave his “old” wife

A great huge honking party – the surprise of my life!

Almost 80 friends and family – it was people wall to wall

I thought “Forty might not be so stinking rotten after all!”

Just in case you missed the party, this thought may give you a lift:

It is not too late to wish me well, and don’t forget my gift!

♥ ♥

Jon traveled ’round the world this year.  He’s quite the rambling man.

He saw strange, exotic places like Grand Rapids and Japan.

We are still quite happily married sixteen years one day next week.

Jon’s smile still makes the sun rise and his kiss still makes me weak.

To have him for my best friend proves that I am truly blessed!

Just why he chose or keeps me, well that’s anybody’s guess!

♥ ♥

Well I guess that I will write a Christmas poem after all.

I will end it with a simple prayer to Jesus, Lord of All:

“Please don’t let me be an inn keeper that has no room for you,

Because of all my earthly goods and other ‘stuff’ to do.

I beg you, Lord, to free my soul from every worldly thing.

Make my heart a humble stable that is fit to house my King.”

♥ ♥

May His peace sustain your body, comfort your mind and flood your soul!  

With Love,

Us

Religious Freak? So Not.

November 29, 2011

Written on Thanksgiving Day, Thursday, November 24, 2011.  Edited and published today.

I am not a religious freak.

So there.

I guess I used to be. Whaterrr.

Anyway, it’s Thanksgiving and my family started the day at Mass. Like I said, I’m not a religious freak, we merely chose to go to Mass because on this day of giving thanks,  much emphasis is put on the turkey and sometimes we lose sight of just who it is that we are thanking.

Although I secretly really wanted to go to Mass, I didn’t even suggest it because if it wasn’t well received I would have been sad and then it would have become a “religious conflict” or worse, seen as a “ramming of the faith” down the collective throat of my family. God and I had a talk long ago and we both agree that we want my kids to come to Him because they love Him, not because I want them to. So I did not suggest attending Mass but fortunately, one of my kids did and everybody was on board. Not to brag but my kids are kinda awesome like that.

Mass was beautiful and was celebrated by both of the parish priests together, which in and of itself is a rare treat.  We sang hymns of thanks and it was very moving.  Aside from receiving the Eucharist, which gives my heart, soul and mind great joy, the high point for me was the homily, possibly one of the most significant homilies of my life.  I will probably mangle it but I want to try to share it.

First, let me say that the past seven months have held some of the darkest days of my life.  I broke into a thousand little pieces and although with the grace of God and the love of my family I am coming back from the darkness, I am certain that I will never be the same. I am hopeful that I will be a better, stronger version of the old me and hopeful, too, that I will become the person that God intended. I am praying for true healing and recently I am finding that I receive subtle messages from God about how He would like me to glue myself back together. So that’s where my heart and head were when I went to Mass.  That’s the dirt, if you will, upon which seeds of  love would fall.

So, back to the homily, Father reminded us that we could bring all of our family, living and dead, to our Mass and in that moment I prayed for my parents, my siblings, their kids, my grandparents, my in-laws, my god-parents, my god-children, aunts, uncles and cousins. I prayed for all of them; praying for them is easy because  I love them. I was basking in that love when I received my first personal tube of glue.

What Father said next absolutely blew me away. He told us to love them for who and what they are and to forgive all that they are not. Hmmm, focus on the inherent good in people and accept them as they are. That’s very Mother Theresa-y. Isn’t that exactly how I want people to treat me?

I think it was Mr. Rogers who once said “It’s hard not to like someone once you know their story.” I have been trying to meet people where they are, assuming that each person has a story that led them to be the way they are when I encounter them. I see broken people everywhere and I try to see their good.  Over time it has become easier to give the benefit of the doubt to other people, strangers. I have had a hard time giving that same benefit to family.  Fail.

I think that I have a hard time because I have a dirty little secret: I’m human.  Yes, I am morally, ethically, physically, spiritually, positively, absolutely, undeniably and reliably very, very human. Over my almost fifty years I have discovered that part of being human is having problematic relationships. In fact, I will go so far as to say that the relationships from which humans derive the most pain are often those with the persons to whom they are closest, the ones that also give the most joy. I’ve talked to many girlfriends over the years (research) and found that (hypothesis) this is all too common.

As I approach my dreaded landmark birthday, I have been re-evaluating each and every relationship that I have. I had come to the conclusion that some of them might just need to end after many years of keeping problematic persons in my orbit simply because they have always been there. I feared that this may cause pain to those I might eliminate and, worse, pain to the loved ones that we have in common.  I was fast becoming one of those crazy middle-aged women who long to be surrounded by love and light.  I was preparing to re-landscape my world to make room for all the love and light.

I’ve never been a particularly confrontational person.  In fact, I often become physically ill at just the thought of  standing up to and perhaps hurting another person, especially one I love. I guess I figured that with all that love and light I would magically acquire the ability to finally speak up, tell them off and move on.  I have, over the years, often been told that I gotta grow a pair.

Crap.

This is going to be more than hard for me and contemplating the matter makes my stomach hurt.  I was born to love and be loved and now I have to stop?

How, exactly, does one stop loving? I haven’t a clue. I’ve never done it, never even attempted.

Father’s sermon, however, has shown me that the yucky feeling in my gut is spot on because it would be wrong to stop loving.  We aren’t called to only love the good ones. We are called to also love the difficult ones, those whom we might feel aren’t necessarily deserving. They are, perhaps, the ones who need our love the most. Whether easy to love or difficult, each person deserves to be loved.  God loves them and Jesus died for them so who am I to not love them?  That’s not very “love and light” -y.

This is great news!  It was one of those sermons that contain a truth that I already knew but really, really needed a refresher. Now I know that I can and should keep on loving those who may have hurt me. I’ll go out on a limb and say that I’m even supposed to love those who will hurt me in the future and forgive them.

I almost feel like the sermon was just for me. I’m relieved to learn that not only can I keep on loving them (yay!) but I should and will forgive them for not being who I want them to be.  With the grace of God I will accept them and forgive them their trespasses.

Now where have I heard THAT before?  Oh, yeah…

Our Father, who art in Heaven,

Hallowed be thy name.

Thy kingdom come, thy will be done

On earth as it is in Heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our trespasses

As we forgive those who trespass against us.

Lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil.

Amen.

“Love and light” is fine for some middle-agers but I think I’ve found the perfect “mantra” for my fiftieth year: Forgive. Forgive. Forgive.

70 x 7, Baby.

Merry Christmas, 2001!

October 22, 2011

No introduction, no back story, just the poem.

 

Now that Autumn is past, it is THAT time of year,

When I crank out a poem to all those I hold dear.

I hope that this note finds you happy and well –

Enjoying the holidays: sight, taste and smell.

All is well with the Essmans, we’re all feeling glad

From the tiny Miss “Ko” to the rock known as Dad.

We packed all our stuff and we moved this past spring

Jon’s commute – cut in half!  We’re a family again!

All the boxes unpacked, our new life was all set

Temporary insanity – all we need now’s a pet.

So we answered an ad “Poodle pups – seven weeks”

We grabbed all our cash and we went “just for peeks.”

They were so sweet and curly, we oooed and we awwed.

There were nine precious puppies directly from God.

It was so hard to choose, we didn’t know what to do

Just a tad more insanity, we came home with two!

We named the male Mulder, he is loud, fast and huge.

He loves to eat ice cubes and acts like a stooge.

Our sweet female is Scully, not mean in the least,

(Unlike her big brother, whom we call “the beast!”)

The children are fine, I will fill you in now

On all they are doing, the what and the how.

I will start with my Anna, she is such a great kid

Having her is the smartest thing we ever did.

She is helpful and loving and generous and dear

Did I mention she’s also homeschooling this year?

She skates and she babysits, making hot wads of cash,

but one trip to Old Navy and it’s gone in a flash.

She was into N’sync at the start of the year

And she bought all their CDs and posters and gear.

But she’s grown up since then – if you know what I mean

And in June our first child became (gulp!) a teen.

Our busy boy, man-cub, Sir Benny turned six.

He is learning gymnastics and does lots of tricks.

He still loves the planets and dinosaurs, too

But he also enjoys frequent trips to the zoo.

He loves teasing his sisters and scaring the dogs.

He enjoys our new pond where he caught lots of frogs

But he learned a sad lesson that wasn’t much fun,

Never leave your pet frogs in a jar in the sun.

Miss Kolbe grows fast, much to Daddy’s chagrin.

She has so many things that she’s interested in.

She likes books and her dollhouse; she’s learning to dance

And when she spins stories, we’re all in a trance.

When our littlest lady turned three this past May

Well, I said some things I thought that I’d never say:

I miss diapers and bottles and puke on my dress

I miss nursing and late nights and getting no rest.

But all babies grow up much to Momma’s dismay

and my Kolbe’s no different, she blooms day by day.

She is so smart and cute, filling life with such joy

We are so blessed to have both our girls and our boy.

Jon still works for Nissan, for that we are glad

He works with great people, never coming home mad.

Now he teaches at church, his deep faith he is sharing

And he does so with love and a great deal of caring.

I’m so proud of my Jon-san, he’s such a good guy

He is God’s gift to me and that thought makes me cry.

He is quiet and kind – but then he’d have to be:

‘Cause he married a sentimental goofball like me.

And speaking of me, which I don’t like to do,

I am fine, thanks for asking, that’s so kind of you.

I have fun with my family and doing my jobs

I just cook and clean up after my precious slobs.

When I started to write this, the words wouldn’t come

and I wondered “Has my brain turned totally numb?”

But I took a deep breath, pulled a handful of hair

Then it dawned on me “Amy! Just whisper a prayer?”

So I did, then I thought of September eleven,

When thousands of souls were released toward Heaven.

The evil one tried – but the U.S. won’t hear it.

He can try all he wants but he can’t kill our spirit.

We’re a kind, caring people, although some find us odd.

We’re a nation united under one loving God.

We should all try each day to just do the right thing.

Wouldn’t that be a gift that is fit for our King?

There are so may gifts that our Creator gave us

We have family and friends and His own Son to save us.

How he treasures us all in the “Home of the Brave.”

And His love does endure from the womb past the grave.

May God keep you and yours in His loving embrace.

 

xoxox

 

 

That is all.

Merry Christmas, 2000!

October 11, 2011

OK, no long blabby blabby back story this week.  The poem is long enough.

Apparently I thought that friends and relatives had abso-frickin-lutely nothing else to do in the middle of December than read a million stanzas about our not that exciting family.  Maybe you should go take a No Doze.

Seriously, go take one.

Merry Christmas, 2000!

How do I begin?  Just where do I start??

I have so many wonderful things in my heart.

As I’m writing this poem I am starting to fear…

How will I ever top the one written last year??

There’s so much that has happened,

This year has just flown!

Jon and I haven’t aged,

But the children have grown.

When the first day of January 2000 came

We were glad to see life had remained much the same

We had lights, we had water, Y2K bug was over!

No need to buy T.P. ’til almost October!!!

In March we went south to the great Sunshine state

We had a fun time and the weather was great.

In fact, it was one of the best trips we’ve had.

(And we didn’t see one single dangling chad.)

In the spring “baby” Kolbe grew up and turned two.

She’s a “big guhl” and funny, with so much to do.

She plays “babies” and dollhouse and still loves to hide,

Her big eyes are still blue and her smile is still wide.

She loves to watch movies and loves to “read” books.

She has Daddy’s big brain and Anna’s good looks.

We all tease her and tell her she laughs like a pony,

Then she tries to look mad, but we all know it’s phony.

Our Anna turned twelve in the middle of June.

She has grown up so fast, she’s a lady too soon!

Her Barbies packed up, baby dolls put away;

Now there’s shopping and lip gloss and CD’s to play.

She likes her new school, has some friends and is happy

She’s as tall as her mom and as kind as her pappy.

There’s a bright side to twelve, besides all the face glitter

Jon and I now have our own built-in baby sitter!

In July we went north and explored the U.P.

When we helped a friend move there with her family

Then we went to the island they call Mackinac.

They have more fudge and horse poop than we ever saw!

Also that month poor Jon turned forty-one

And I tried to assure him his life’s just begun.

Since he won’t act or look old, I think there’s a mis-count.

Only fourteen years left till he gets senior discount!

When we finished our homeschool year, sometime in May,

The tired mom and the kiddies all shouted “Hooray!!”

Later on that same night, getting ready for bed,

She looked into their faces and wearily said…

“My darlings, I love you but a school we must find.

If we don’t, your poor mommy will lose her wee mind!”

So we found a nice place with some very nice teachers

And the children there seem to be nice little creatures.

Late in August with new shoes and uniforms bought

(Sending two kids to school costs much more than I’d thought)

I drove Anna and Ben to their new non-home school

And each morning for two weeks I cried like a fool.

♥.

Then one day a thought hit me, it came like a flash,

(And, of course, all my best thoughts involve spending cash)

While my Anna and Ben are both out seeking knowledge

I will get me some, too, I will go finish college!

Ben turned five in September and he’s busier than four.

He is so fun to watch, makes us wish we’d had more.

He loves school, Star Wars “guys,” all the planets and sky.

He cracks jokes like a grown-up and loves to ask “why?”

Each day I drop off my sweet boy with blonde hair

He leaps out of the van and yells “Go park somewhere!”

Sad to say, my dear Ben believes I don’t go far.

He thinks I spend all day in that lot, in my car.

Autumn has blown, but not near hard enough!

Our leaves aren’t yet raked and here comes the white stuff!!

We just cannot believe that this year’s almost gone.

We’ve just put up the tree (still ignoring the lawn!)

So here comes the New Year, let’s just see how it goes.

We await all the joys and accept all the woes.

We will work with what God sends and make our own “groove”

Maybe this is the year we can finally move!

We’ve been given a great many wonderful things

From the Lord of all lords and the King of all kings.

First He gave us what seemed just a summer romance

That became a most excellent fourteen year dance.

We have also been given three beautiful souls

To nourish and love and teach Heavenly goals.

We are trying to raise them the best that we can,

We’re a team of a poet and her loving man.

We all hope you enjoy this most blessed of seasons

And whatever you do, just remember the reasons

That Jesus, Our Lord, came to live on this earth.

Yes, He wants you to know just how much your soul’s worth:

He was willing to stretch His arms open so wide.

They put nails in His hands and He lovingly died.

He allowed this so that all His people would know

That He loves us and wants us and cares for us so.

You are in our thoughts, in our hearts and in our prayers.  Have a safe and holy Christmas Season!

So no back story but since you took a No Doze, you’re wide awake so you might as well read this little non-backstory story.

In December 1999 there was an epidemic of Chicken Little Syndrome.  Lots of people expected that life as we knew it would cease to exist when we rang in the New Year because computers were only programmed with a “1” in the thousands place.  It was constantly in the news, called the Y2K Bug.  Year 2000, 2K… get it?  Lots of smart people believed this and sadly some dumb ones, too.  Dumb ones, like maybe, I dunno, us.

In our defense we did live waaaay out in the country then and the wood-burning stove was actually not a bad purchase.  It kept the house toasty and it was beautiful.  I went a little nutty with the size of it so I could have a cooking surface, ya know, for when my oven didn’t work because of the Y2K bug.  I purchased lots of extra food, which we used, except for the rice and soybeans.  Ah, yes!  In addition to all of the canned goods and bottled water, I bought 100 lbs of rice and 100 lbs of soybeans.  We used a brand new space-aged kitchen appliance called a vacuum sealer to seal it in small air-tight packages, which turned into little bricks.  I felt like I was running a NASA operation.  All of these bricks were then stored in a huge pantry in our basement.  We were all set.

Yep, no… joke’s on us.

The field mice were all set.

The little bastidges made their winter home in our basement, unbeknownst to us.  It seems they didn’t like our method of storing the soybeans so they somehow managed to get into the giant Rubbermaid totes, rip open the vacuum sealed bags and re-distributed about half of it.  We found impressive stockpiles of soybeans all over that house, the garage and the barn.  In fact, we found these piles in boxes of toys and Christmas decorations long after our family moved to a new city.

Can you say “ewwwwwww?”

I would also like to point out that I took very little license in constructing this year’s poem.  Kolbe actually did laugh like a pony and we teased her about it.  Even then Kolbe had the sweetest disposition and took our teasing with a giggling heart.  She is so very good natured.

I also did not exaggerate about Ben jumping out of the van in the car-pool drop off lane each day and ordering me to go park somewhere.  Some days he would even watch out the window to see that I was, indeed, parking the van so that if he decided that school was boring he could, I dunno, send a minion out to the car to get me so he could go home, I guess.  To this day he is still “the man with a plan.”  Love that child.

Anna really did grow taller than me that year, in fact, she still teases me about being taller and she is like 53 years old now.  Ben teases me, too, because he also towers over me.  I don’t see the fun in this but they enjoy it so what’s a short mom to do?  Kolbe compares her height to mine on a weekly basis.  Alas, it won’t be long before all of my kids are taller than me.  Does this mean they will no longer be terrified of me?  Perish the thought!

I confess that I totally lied about the T.P.  We didn’t have enough to last us to October, it just rhymed.  We only had enough to get us through the first week in May.  I shudder to think what would have happened if Y2K actually did happen and we only had four months of toilet paper.  It would have been ugly.  I guess by then we would have eaten all the canned goods and moved on to the rice and soybeans.  We probably would have noticed the soybean security breach and so we would have been living on rice only so maybe we wouldn’t have needed T.P. quite so much.  It is all just too scary to think about for very long.

So if you’ve read this far I owe you an apology.  I added a backstory.   I am sorry.

Curse this verbal diarrhea.  I tried not to.  I really did.  Oh well.

Whadya gonna do?  Have one of my towering children put the hurt on me?

Merry Christmas 1999

October 4, 2011

I realized today that there are only about 12 weeks until Christmas.  So, in honor of the beginning of the “so busy you can’t hardly breathe” season, I will blog each of my Christmas poems, one a week, until I either a) write this year’s or b) write a depressing blog about how I can’t write a poem this year.

The first poem is below.  First,  here is a little story I want to share.  It is the story of my first Christmas poem.  It’s kind of a birth story, without all the blood and placenta and stuff.

~

A tired, homeschooling mom  has just left Meijer’s at 11:48 PM, December 16, 1999.  The best part about homeschooling is that your children are with you all the time.  The worst part about homeschooling is that shopping is really hard because of the best part about homeschooling.  She chooses Meijer’s because they’re open 24 hours a day and they sell everything.  When it’s nine days before Christmas, she needs EVERYTHING.

She and her family live way, way out in the country so shopping anywhere means a long ride to and from any store.  Tonight’s trip is 25 minutes, one way.  It’s snowing, of course.  Why wouldn’t it be?

Absolute panic sets in as she pulls out of the parking lot because the radio station is playing Christmas carols.  Instead of setting a Currier and Ives mood, they have the exact opposite effect and she is beginning to realize that she isn’t even remotely ready for Christmas.

Sure, she baked a couple of kinds of cookies but she usually bakes eighty to a hundred dozen cookies, which she divides onto many decorative trays and gives to the pediatrician, the dentist, the hairdresser, the neighbors, the mail carrier and her husband’s office.

She has purchased a few gifts for her kids but has no Santa gifts or stocking stuffers and no gifts for the grand-parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, god-children or friends.

She realizes that she never did make it to the walk-in portrait place at the mall, which specializes in very fast photos priced specifically for disorganized moms like her.  She put off taking photos because the two babies had been sick back and forth since Thanksgiving and still had chapped cheeks and noses.  Now it’s too late to capture their angelic faces to mail them all over the country.

Cards.  Crap!  There are about 170 Christmas cards that have to be signed, sealed, stamped and mailed.  She likes to write a line or two in each card because she is either very friendly or pathologically verbose.  Mmm hmmm, probably that last one.

She just can’t bring herself to type up one of those “Egbert, the children and I are amazing this year and here is my ten page letter to prove it to you” Christmas letters.  So not her style.  If only there was a way to mass produce a personal greeting that is fun to write and fun to read.  She has forgotten two things: that our every thought is heard by God and that she is one of His favorites.

She turns off the radio because she needs to make good use of her time while she is driving home, practically in the middle of the night.  So many things to do in the next nine, nope, now eight days.  How will she ever get it all done?  Her parents always made sure that each family Christmas was the most magical Christmas ever and she is compelled to give her own little family a perfect Christmas, too.  No pressure.

Instead of making use of the quiet interior of her mini-van, her mind wanders, if you can call racing at the speed of light “wandering.”  She recites in her head Clement C. Moore’s The Night Before Christmas and her holiday panic, her love of words and her love of her family collides in her brain and she starts to re-work the famous poem, just to entertain herself.  By the time she gets home, she is buzzing.  She has just composed her first Christmas letter.

Her wonderful husband greets her in the garage and together they hurriedly put away groceries.  He takes the kids’ gifts she bought tonight to hide them with the others.  She kisses him goodnight and tells him she is going to work on Christmas cards for a bit before going to bed.  He patiently sighs because he has learned that suggesting she go to bed because it’s after 12:30 is of no use.

She races to her basement school room/office and turns on her computer, barely able to contain the words in her head.  When the computer finishes waking up her hands trip over themselves.  The words are actually working.

Around 3:00 she finishes editing, prints one copy and reads it aloud to Tootsie, her schnauzer, who had been softly snoring at her feet.  The dog listens attentively, probably hoping that this interaction means they can finally go upstairs and sleep in their beds like normal people.  The owner finishes reading and begins to weep which freaks both of them out a little.

Tootsie will probably forget this weird interaction by morning.  Her owner will probably remember it for the rest of her life.

Merry Christmas 1999!

It’s the week before Christmas, my house is a mess.

I’d need ten elves to clean it, not a single elf less

My cookies are half baked, my presents half bought,

My cards half addressed and my nerves are half shot.

I bought both girls new dresses and Benny a suit,

I forgot to do portraits, but trust me they’re cute.

Why do minutes tick by when an hour seems to fly?

Oh why do I freak out at Christmas, just why??

I’ve so much to thank God for, my heart’s full of joy.

He has blessed us so richly, two girls and our boy.

.

Anna, grown up, just this year turned eleven.

She’s a loving big sister, our first gift from Heaven.

She’s an excellent student, I know she won’t mind

If I tell you she’s funny, creative and kind.

Our Anna will start seventh grade very soon

Yes, we still teach our kids in our basement school room.

.

Our Ben has turned four, such a loving wee man.

He plays like a warrior, as hard as he can

He likes Star Wars, his toys and he really loves bugs,

He eats PB & J and he loves to give hugs.

He is smart just like Daddy.  He is silly and dear.

Kindergarten will start the first week of the year.

.

I still can’t believe our sweet Kolbe  is one.

Oh, I tell you that baby is just so much fun.

She is happy and healthy.  She just loves to hide.

Open up any closet, you’ll find her inside.

She is active and vibrant and man! Can she run!

She can say many words like “uh-oh” and “all done.”

.

My Jon is my rock and my very best friend.

I thank God that he’s mine and will be till the end.

He still works for Nissan, still travels a lot.

But he always comes home, if he wants to or not.

He is great with the kids and they mug him with glee,

When he walks in the door and they all yell “DADDY!”

He turned forty this year, yet he still looks the same.

Country air and well water are surely to blame.

.

As for me, I’m the same, twenty-three in September

Please don’t ask my real age because I don’t remember.

As I prayerfully pursue my Homeschool career,

I just cannot believe this is our seventh year!

I love being a mother and being a wife.

God has blessed me with truly a wonderful life.

I’ve my family, my parents, my siblings, my friends.

Oh, the list of my blessings is a list without ends.

.

When I started this poem I was really stressed out.

Now I’ve listed my blessings, know what I’ve found out?

Christmas isn’t cookies or housework or gifts.

It is not about toys or shopping in shifts.

Christmas was the birth of the Savior of all.

He didn’t come to get really great deals at the mall.

He came into our world on that cold winter’s night,

So that we’d all enjoy Heaven’s wonderful Sight.

.

He dwelled here on Earth both for you and for me,

So that one day he’d die on a hill on a tree.

He was born so that one day he’d save us through death

‘Twas for us, from his first to his very last breath.

I will try to remember these facts all year long.

To do anything else with my life would be wrong.

I will try to give all that I do back to Him,

My savior, my God, my Jesus, my King.

.

May Our Precious Lord and His loving mother hold you and yours in Their loving arms, both now and throughout the Jubilee Year 2000.

Your Sister in Christ,

Amy

December 17, 1999

Billy Crystal Gets Me

October 1, 2011

Some day if… NO… when I meet Billy Crystal, I intend to kiss him right smack on the lips.

While he is recovering from that I will explain to the crowd that forms how Billy (we’ll be on a first name basis after our kiss) saved my mental health.  He validated my existence.

He plays Mickey Gordon in the movie Forget Paris.  At one point he is a stay at home husband taking care of his workaholic wife’s elderly father.  Two of the scenes I have actually lived myself.

This one, dozens of times over the past seven years:

And this one, daily during one very stressful month this past summer:

Maybe he’ll write a movie about our intimate moment and call it When Billy Met Amy.

I’d go see it.

It’s a God Thing

September 28, 2011

Yesterday was an ordinary day.  It was also an extraordinary day.  I truly believe that each day is what you make of it and as good as you let it be.

I woke up at 6 AM.  Blech.  I hate 6 AM.

As I hunted in the dark for my post-shower clothing I remembered that my blue jeans were still unwashed.  Awesome.

This could have been a “Gaaah!  Crap!  My whole day is ruined!” moment but instead I sighed and went to my closet, content to see what God has in mind for my outfit today.  You see, I am a firm believer that if God cares enough about each and every one of us to give each of us different fingerprints on each of our fingers he also cares about what we wear.  He cares if I look fabulous or not.

Late September in Michigan is just too cold for crop pants and cute sandals so I now have two choices:  wear yoga pants (terrifying jiggle option) or throw on my black pants.

So begins the domino effect of not washing one’s denim in a timely manner.  Black pants mean I should not wear a T-shirt or sweat shirt.  Fine, whatever, I’ll wear a nicer shirt.  I grab my dark cerulean cowl neck shirt (look it up, it means blue) because my friend Brenda said it looked amazing on me and that makes me happy.  The fabric is kind of thin so I grab a warm, colorful sweater.  When you have only been awake for 4 minutes, colorful seems like a really good idea.

After my shower I dress and look in the mirror.  I say to myself  “Um,  Amy (that is what I call me), the stripes make you look like a clown.”  An ever-widening clown.  I couldn’t take the sweater off quickly enough.

Again I could have chosen to pitch a fit about how much wider and more clown-like horizontal stripes make me look but I sigh, still trusting God, and place my once beloved sweater in the Purple Heart give away bag.  I go back to my closet and see a black/grey tweed jacket that I have only worn once and decide to wear that, tossing it on the bed so it is safe from the splay of my “blow-dry and hairspray the heck out of my head” routine.

I finish my hair, grab my jacket and head downstairs.  I am way overdressed for what I have planned for the day (dropping the kids off with their tutor and coming home to wash a load of blue jeans) but I just accept that maybe God has a plan for this day that He hasn’t clued me in on yet.  I smile, wondering just when He will tell me the plan and I silently hope that I’m not too “busy” to hear Him when He does.

I eat breakfast with my kids and realize that I am miraculously running almost an hour ahead of time.  Fluke or reward for my resignation to Divine Will?  You decide.  All I know is that left to my own devices I’m NEVER early.

As I leisurely finish my second cup of coffee I take advantage of my extra time and apply full combat make-up.  How awesome is it that God is giving me time to get rid of my ruddy spots?  I even have time to pick out accessories so I go back up to my bedroom and choose earrings that make me smile and my beautiful three hearts necklace from my kids, which also gives me joy.

I look in the mirror, which as a rule I usually avoid, and I think “Oh for the love of Chico’s… I look like I’m going to a funeral.”  It really doesn’t matter because no one will see me; I’m just coming home to do laundry.

So I drop my kids off with their tutor and decide to pop across the street, into the parish office to ask a question.  There is a hearse parked at the front of the church so I said a  “Hail Mary”  for the occupant as I always do whenever I see a hearse or an ambulance, then I proceeded to the rear of the church to park.

Now don’t think I’m some sort of Rainman who counts cars because I’m not.  If the parking lot had been full of Fords or Toyotas I would never have noticed but the parking lot was almost completely filled with Nissan cars.  I noticed this because my husband works for Nissan and we drive Nissans.  Seeing Nissan cars on the road always reminds me how blessed we are.  I gratefully notice them everywhere.

Then I remember that one of Jon’s former bosses passed away last week.  I thought he was buried last week, too.  Wait, there was a hearse… I’m starting to get a funny feeling.

I get out of my car and start walking toward the building.  Just outside the door I see a familiar face, Anne from my daughter’s dance studio, her eyes are red and she gives me a wobbly smile.  I approach her and we exchange greetings.  My curiosity forces me to ask if  the funeral is for Ron, Jon’s former boss.  She begins to cry openly.  “Yes, he was one in a million.  We will all miss him terribly.”

I gave that sweet tiny woman a big hug and told her how sorry I am for her loss.  I hope that God somehow lets the certainty of His immense love for us transfer from my clumsy arms to her sorrowful heart.

Ron was, indeed, a wonderful, kind man.  Jon loved working for him.  We occasionally ran into him around town after he retired and he was always so happy and interested in us and our kids.  We were saddened to hear of his death.  He was only 65.

I dropped my plans for popping into the church office and headed, instead, into the body of the church.  I mean why not?  I’m dressed for it.

It is now a full day later and I’m still blown away by my awesome wardrobe malfunction.  If I’m counting blessings, and I guess I am now, there are at least 17:

  1. Dirty blue jeans
  2. Clean black pants
  3. Striped “fat” sweater
  4. Purple Heart give away bag
  5. Nice tweed jacket
  6. Cerulean shirt (Cerulean! Cerulean!)
  7. Breakfast with my kids
  8. Time for a second cup of coffee
  9. Full combat make-up
  10. Smile inducing earrings
  11. Joy inducing three hearts necklace
  12. My “Hail Mary for the occupant” habit
  13. My Nissan hyper-awareness
  14. Sweet Anne to light my path
  15. Having known Ron
  16. The privilege of attending Ron’s funeral Mass, which although sad was beautiful and inspiring
  17. Being part of the Communion of the Saints

I had an ordinary day filled with “God things.”  I had my plan.  God had His.

If there is one “God thing” that I could pass on to the rest of the world it would be this:  God cares deeply about you.  He cares about everything you care about so share it all with Him.  Why does He care about you?  He cares about you because you are His absolute favorite.

God loves you and Love never fails.

As the Poodle Turns… Season 2

August 19, 2011

September 24, 2010     Many great shows returned this week and one REALLY weird one. Is anyone ready for the return of As the Poodle Turns? Will Mom call the crazy breeder or will she decide that broken ankles and birthing puppies don’t mix? Will the now older and wiser (?) Daisy manage to get pregnant this time? Will Dad put his foot down and stop the madness???

Yep, Daisy’s in heat.  It’s time for Season 2 of As the Poodle Turns…

Wearing the undies of shame.

September 28, 2010   Mom (that’s me) is at the vet with her 3 girls. Only one of them is here for fertility testing. That’s right, the puppy mama drama begins with an all new season of As the Poodle Turns.

October 2, 2010   Today on As the Poodle Turns, our star is happy to not have to go to the vet, who probes and prods and shames her. Oblivious to the fact that she will be leaving on her honeymoon in an hour, she smiles at Mom, who tells her what a good girl she is.  At the sound of Mom’s voice, Daisy wags her tail (which is poking out a hole in some hand me down underpants) because all is right in her world… for now…

October 4, 2010    Today on “As the Poodle Turns”… Daisy faces the ultimate rejection: the chosen stud wants nothing to do with her. The apologetic breeder offers to “introduce” Daisy to another male, a red Standard Poodle. Purebred poodles instead of Golden Doodles? Mom agrees to let them try. Concerned about Daisy’s already low self esteem, Mom wishes she could just buy Daisy a purse to make the hurt go away…

As long as we call him "Stud" he doesn't care if he is our "Plan B" or if his haircut makes him look like a big girl.

October 6, 2010    Today on As the Poodle Turns… Mom liberated Daisy after only 5 days at the breeder and 2 successful, er, um, attempts. ((blush))  After a 2 hour beauty stop at the groomer, Daisy is now sleeping quite heavily. Occasionally, her tail wags as she snores softly in the warm sun cascading in the window.  All fingers, toes and eyes are crossed at Casa de Our House… will there be babies in early December? Stay tuned.

October 13, 2010    Today on As the Poodle Turns… Daisy seems to be completely normal. She is sleeping more than usual but there is no hunger strike or pretend babies. Mom, though relieved that there is no psycho puppy mama drama, finds herself being yelled at all of the time. “Mom, stop feeling up the dog!!” A new worry begins… Daisy has only 6, um… spigots. Are round the clock puppy feedings in this family’s future?

October 20, 2010  Today on “As The Poodle Turns” everyone here is bored. Daisy is only her usual crazy self: climbing into our laps to watch TV, sleeping in a chair all day in the library and spinning her head like Linda Blair when one of her key phrases is uttered (“Go bye bye?” “Want a Whopper?” “Duck stick?” and “Obama?”) The nail biting begins for Mom. Are there puppies? Will Daisy’s name change from Daisybella to Daisybelly?

I'm confuzzled.

November 2, 2010    As the Poodle Turns… Daisy has some new, too disgusting for Facebook, symptoms and our doggie mid-wife, says this ickiness is proof that she’s PG. Our birthing co-pilot, Rob, stopped by with CJ, his gorgeous St. Bernard, which made Daisy so happy, then she slept for 7 hours. She still only eats chicken and eggs and ignores her food, even though Mom makes peanut butter gravy for it. Go figure…

November 11, 2010    This week on As the Poodle Turns… Daisy’s appetite has returned with a vengeance and her waist is beginning to expand. Since the current tummy occupants leave little room for food, she eats every 2 hours around the clock and burps like a drunk, often waking Mom who then bolts out of bed to clean up what she fears is a pile of yuck, waiting in the dark. The men will make a whelping box this weekend.

Daisy likes the whelping box that Dad and Son built.

November 15, 2010    Today on As the Poodle Turns… fast asleep, Daisy suddenly jumped up and ran to Mom, laying her head in Mom’s lap. Mom, of course, took this as yet another opportunity to feel the belly. Mom squealed with JOY as the belly of her precious dog KICKED her hand. Mom’s youngest daughter then took a turn and was kicked, too. Daisy was given praise, a chicken breast and more praise. X rays this afternoon will give us a head count.

November 16, 2010    Yesterday on As the Poodle Turns… Mom took our star to the vet for x-rays so we could get a head count on the belly population.  Gue$$ what?  The x-ray$ were inconclu$ive.  The vet $uggested performing an ultra$ound, which will $how a better image.  Of cour$e $he did.  Why wouldn’t $he?  Many dollars later we are given a head count:  There are 4… maybe 5 puppies in there.  Yay!!!!

November 22, 2010    As the Poodle Turns… Daisy, still freaked out by the movement inside her, is seldom farther than 4 feet from Mom, whose fixation on the belly is getting creepy. Max, the cat, is fascinated by the birthing box and spends a great deal of time peering into it, safely perched high atop the piano. Daisy glares at him. The mutual contempt could be cut with a knife… is war on the horizon?

Daisy... Please don't 'splode!

November 30, 2010    This week on As the Poodle Turns… Daisy spends her days laying down, as sitting and standing are now laborious. The belly hair is falling out which makes the actual belly look ginormous. Mom is beginning to worry that instead of beautiful poodle babies, Daisy will give birth to calves: huge, mooing, curly beasties! Just a little over a week to go… please don’t explode, Daisy!

December 4, 2010   3:13 AM   Yesterday on As The Poodle Turns…. Daisy delivered NINE beautiful babies!!!!!  7 girls and 2 boys.  2 need prayers : o(   More details in a few hours. Daisy and Mom are having a massive sleepover on the Laundry Room floor.

At this point I feel the need to tell you that the actual birth story is not yet typed, unless you count the fact that it is forever carved into my psyche.  It was terrifying and wonderful.  Having only had C-sections myself, I had not, until now, witnessed the miracle of birth.  I can sum it up in one word:  Ewwwww.  

Some day when the planets are aligned properly and my shrink gives me the ok to delve into those memories I will write the whole thing out.  My family thinks it is hysterical and disgusting.  

December 4, 2010  4;35 AM    TEN!!!!!!!!!!

Daisy and her ten tiny poodle babies.

Daisy smiles. Nice Job, Mama!

December 4, 2010  8:27 PM     Oy! What a day! All babies are still here   : o)  I have had only two hours sleep since Thursday AND I have been pooped on, peed on, I smell like formula and at one point my jeans were drenched in amniotic fluid but I have no regrets because our teensy poodles are so sweet! Daisy is an amazing momma, too!

December 5, 2010   Today on As the Poodle Turns… Daisy and eight of her babies are doing well.  The two tinies, Rudy and Theresa, well, not so much.  As I feared weeks ago during the “feeling up the dog” stage, there aren’t enough “spigots” for all of the babies.  We are feeding several of them every two hours with tiny baby bottles.  We will move all of the precious babies from under the stairs in the Laundry Room to the big whelping box in the kitchen the next time Daisy goes out for a potty break.  Husband has also moved a recliner from the Living Room into the kitchen so that I can sleep in there to “help” Daisy by feeding the babies.

Rudy, the red nosed poodle. We intended to let our son keep her forever. God had other plans for Rudy and for our family.

December 6, 2010    We now have nine beautiful babies and five broken hearts. We lost our little black female, Theresa.  Rudy, the chocolate brown red-nosed puppy that our son has chosen to keep as his forever pet is still here but not doing very well at all.  I know some will say “It’s just a dog” but my tenderhearted son has fallen in love with her so I would appreciate your prayers, for my son’s sake, that Rudy stick around for a very long time.

December 7, 2010    And then there were eight. Rest in peace, tiny Rudy.   : o(    We love you.

December 9, 2010    2:08 AM… I used to think that tiny baby poodles would be quiet, serene and blissful. These teensy beasts complain about everything, awake AND asleep. They’re really sweet to watch and listen to… unless you are trying to sleep in a recliner in your kitchen so their Momma doesn’t freak out because she is alone with them. I still love them all but daaaaaaayum, babies, shhhhhhhhhh!! This grand-poodle needs her sleep!!!

December 15, 2010     Today on As the Poodle Turns… Daisy, no longer glaring and growling, is enjoying visitors. A few of the babies have pushed up onto all fours and “walked” which would be super if they could see. Then, this afternoon, 2 of them opened their eyes – Yay!!!! All of the humans are loving every second of this! At night they watch TV with laps full of puppies…. life is good.

December 29, 2010    If 8 adorable, busy poodle babies fill up on Puppy Chow mush they should sleep a long time. Hope springs eternal.

January 5, 2011    I can’t believe how the past 5 weeks has flown by! Puppies 24/7 has really put me out of touch. It has been one of the most wonderful experiences of my life but oy, am I tired! I hate that they will have to leave us soon. If you haven’t visited yet, please call and visit… I PROMISE not to try to sell you one. I just want to share the love. There is plenty of puppy breath to go around!

We wrapped Daisy in Ace Bandage so she could "play" with her babies without them having access to the lady parts.

January 9, 2011     This weekend on As the Poodle Turns… Almost weaned and sleeping for 5 or 6 hours at a time, the puppies are ginormous. Daisy is happy that the little needle teeth don’t have as much access to her lady parts. Mom is looking forward to sleeping in her own bed again soon and happy that Daisy doesn’t worry about body image. 5 puppies now have homes to go to after they see the vet. This has been one wild ride!

January 11, 2011     Ewwww… I have found something that is worse than being up at 3:30 AM feeding 8 puppies and cleaning up poo from 8 puppies… doing that for 8 puppies who were wormed yesterday. Mommy, make it stop!!!!!!

Fun fact for passengers:  When a puppy is given “worming” medicine it does not kill the worms.  Noooo, that would be dangerous to the puppy.  Instead, this medicine temporarily paralyzes the worms, causing them to “let go”  and then the puppy passes the groggy worms.  It sounds so peaceful.  Um, no… each puppy violently shoots out several squirming, disgusting, writhing spaghetti demons.

If you are really, really lucky, they don’t come all of the way out and you get to “help” them by grabbing what is sticking out of the, shall we call it “exit portal” of the puppy and pull.  Screaming as loudly as you can while pulling worms out of a puppy not only makes your work magically more effective, it gives your husband and children something to laugh at.

If you are the luckiest person in the world, you will occasionally encounter a worm that upon being pulled from it’s host will immediately coil it’s evil body around your finger.  Screaming, gagging, shooting tears out of your eyes and seeing stars makes this task easier.

Thank you, God, for inspiring the making of vinyl gloves.

January 23, 2011  5:51 AM     Dear Puppies, There are only 7 of you now and I have cleaned up 10 huge poops in the last 5 minutes. How about we make a new rule?  One per customer, please. Thank you. Love, your grand-poodle. ps chewing on my robe is not as fun for me as it is for you.

January 27, 2011     This week on As the Poodle Turns, er, um, As the Poodles Turn…. Daisy whines at the kitchen gate, watching the babies playing, longing to join them. Alas, she can’t; unaware that they are weaned, they lunge at her. Each night Daisy sneaks toy after toy out of the kitchen and hides them. Perhaps she is not as desperate to play with the puppies as she is the rubber duckies and rubber chicken legs…

Penny gets her first hair cut! She "belongs to" our son and will stay with us forever.

January 28, 2011    Six of the puppies have now gone home with their new owners.  Two to New York, two to Jackson, one to Rochester Hills, one to Brighton.  We still have the timid male, Albie (short for Albert Einstein) and our forever puppy, Penny.  Our son has taken over all care of his puppy, Penny and has started outdoor potty training.  The boy and his baby dog are already best friends.  Yay!

It will be good for Albie to stay with us a little longer since he is very shy and lacks self confidence.  We will watch Oprah with him to boost his self esteem and our baby daughter, who is 13, has graciously agreed to potty train him and take over his care for a week or two, until we can find a good home.   She is so generous and always jumps in to help out whenever there is a need.

February 1, 2011   Our precious baby tearfully apologizes that she has fallen in love with Albie and begs to be allowed to keep him.  Her older brother, our tenderhearted son, tells me that he would like to look for a job so he can afford to buy this puppy for his baby sister and pay for all of the expenses of this additional puppy.  I called Husband at work and said “Congratulations!  We now live with three poodles… like forever…”

Albie in the arms of his teenager. They are head over heels in love with each other. Life is good.

February 2, 2011  I was contacted by two different people who each want to buy Albie.  I pretend to apologize as I tell them that we have decided to keep him.  One of the prospective buyers even offered me twice what we were asking.  There is not enough money in the world to give up any of our sweet poodles.  Each of them is so wonderful!  Just 12 short weeks ago I was completely unaware that our family was incomplete.

February 22, 2011     Today on As the Poodle Turns… Daisy is beyond excited that she gets to go “bye bye in the car” at only 7 am! This can ONLY mean that this will be the best day EVER, right? Mom seemed a little sad when she was blathering on and on about “Spa” day, promising to pray for her… Poor Daisy is not much of a speller… Happy SPAY day, everybody!

Et tu, vision?

July 23, 2011

OooooOOOOooooo…. so this is Middle Age.

Blech.

Most of the time I don’t feel older… most of the time.  In my head I’m still right around 29.

My parts, however, tell another story.  It seems they are aging more quickly than I.

Over the past few years I thought that my vision problem was more of an arm problem.  My arms are not long enough for reading.

Yes, I said I use my arms to read.  Don’t you?

I discovered that if I extend my arms and move printed materials slightly farther away I could read perfectly.  On more than one occasion my husband has even offered to hold menus on his side of the table for me, the dear.

For a brief time I wondered if perhaps a decision was made by all of the people who print stuff at their annual People Who Print Stuff Convention.  Since it is cheaper to print stuff on less paper and by shrinking the print, less paper is used… money is saved.  How hard is it for millions of people to hold books, menus, newspapers, canned goods and cleaning supplies a little farther away? Let the reading masses bear the burden of this cost reduction by extending their arms.

Alas, it is not a conspiracy.  It is just my lot in life.

Now I have a new problem:  I guess my arms are shrinking.

My arms are shrinking?

I guess I should be running in circles flailing my now freakishly short arms in a complete ”Help! My arms are shrinking!” panic yet I remain eerily calm.

I’m calm because I know my arms are not shrinking.  I am aging.  More accurately, my eyes are aging.  My arms are fine, well not fine per se… they resemble scary white bat wings covered with ginormous freckles, but their length is just fine.

So, I have invested in fabulous reading glasses.

This morning I was lamenting in my head about how hard it is to read the names on prescription bottles if I leave my fabulous reading glasses on my nightstand, when in my peripheral vision I saw the cat jump up onto a kitchen chair.  I tried to focus on the cat but, knowing I hate when he gets all up on the kitchen furniture, he fled when my head snapped in his direction.

I attempted to focus, instead, on the empty pizza box, still on the table after last night’s dinner, from a new place near here.  There, on the edge of the box, in big bold letters it said:  NOT DELICIOUS PIZZA!

Oh! So that’s why it tasted so icky… it clearly states on the side of the box that it is not delicious.  How did I miss that?  Did the surgeon general make them put that there?  Couldn’t they have just put that little tidbit of information in their ad and saved me thirty bucks?

Wait.  Crap… take three steps closer to the table and it says HOT DELICIOUS PIZZA.   Liars.

Aaaaaaand now my distance vision is going, too.

As The Poodle Turns… Season 1

July 21, 2011

Back by popular demand, here is the complete first season of As the Poodle Turns.

March 24, 2010    I’m driving Miss Daisy to meet her “husband” tomorrow. If all goes well we will have goldendoodle puppies in late May!!! Yay!!!

April 1, 2010       I talked to her Mother-in-law (Breeder-in-law?) on Tuesday and she wasn’t “ready” yet but she thinks by today (Thursday) that they’ll be getting busy.  I am grossed out that I know this much about my dog’s love life.

April 16, 2010      Daisy is home. Yay!! She smells like a pile of poo. Boooooo!

We walked into Petsmart at 8:20 tonight to buy a vat of heavily scented dog shampoo and to our delight, the girl in the “beauty parlor” took pity on us and bathed her right then and there. Yay! We left at 9:00 with a very fluffy dog… who still smelled like poo. Boo!

We won’t know if she is pregnant for about 4 weeks. Double Booo! I wonder if I can get her to pee on a stick for me before then. Patience is so not my thing.

Now that she is completely dry she smells better but her whole body is now a giant walking afro.

April 19, 2010      So I’m wondering about Daisy’s status. She sleeps all the time and is suddenly very picky about what she will eat. Could she be ‘spectin or is she turning into a cat? Stay tuned for more on…. As the Poodle Turns.

April 21, 2010      Today on As the Poodle Turns….

Daisy is still not eating much so last night I gave our girl her favorite: a HUGE peanut butter dog cookie. She tenderly carried it upstairs and slept with it between her front paws. She kissed it and coddled it all day today and it was just adorable until…. dun dun dun… she ate half of it. I am now very worried about the safety of her potential babies.

April 29, 2010      Today I am pretty perturbed by the particularly picky, possibly pregnant poodle. Who doesn’t love peanut butter and hot water mixed into their food?   Daisy, you’re killing me here.

Oh well, at least she afforded me the opportunity to create an alliteration…and who doesn’t love those?

April 30, 2010   This week on As the Poodle Turns….

Mom discovers that our star will eat if it is served in the cat’s bowl. Everything tastes better in the cat’s bowl… who knew?

Groomed for the last time before birthing, she now sports a very short coat and the doggy equivalent of a Brazilian. TMI? Sorry, I meant Daisy, not the mom! All of this and we aren’t even sure if she is pregnant. Puppy Mamma Drama, my new thing.

May 6, 2010   As The Poodle Turns….

Miss Daisy spends most of her time sleeping in the blue chair in the Library, curled into a ball, snoring like a man. Continuing the mind games, the evil Mom puts Daisy’s food in a large cat dish which is first offered to Max, the cat, before being placed on the floor. Mom utters a stern warning “Daisy, no.” Mom and Max leave the room and Daisy inhales the food.

Sadly, our star believes:

A) she is really getting cat food and

B) she is starving out Max.

Mom cares not that her dog may be a sociopath, she cares only that Daisy is eating. Max, complicit in the game, now takes his meals from the safe height of the bar stools, far above the puppy mamma drama, figuratively and literally. Pregnancy status… still not certain.

May 20, 2010  Continued uncertainty on As The Poodle Turns…

Mom, in a sinus induced episode of psychic ability, fears that our star, Daisy, will turn out to not only NOT be pregnant but will have developed a personality disorder which will require intensive in-patient therapy. Still on a chair all day, refusing to eat plain dog food, Daisy is unaware that Mom contemplates a call to Cesar Milan.

Perhaps Daisy may feel violated or …she has found a way to get a half cup of cottage cheese and a can of gourmet dog food mixed in her dry food AND be allowed to sleep on a chair all day. I feel violated now.

May 26, 2010   This week on As the Poodle Turns….

Mom and Anna take Daisy to the vet to investigate the odiferous ear situation. Yeast is found to be the cause. While there, the vet asks permission to shave the belly and perform an ultrasound… dun dun dun…which is inconclusive.

Although there are some “suspicious liquid” objects in the general area of the uterus, a better image can be obtained in 10 days. Somehow Daisy has managed to LOSE 5 lbs in the past 7 weeks on a high calorie diet and no exercise, which makes everyone in the house want to use the B word on her. Will the pitter patter of little feet be heard in our home this summer? Will Mom have to ask the insane breeder for a refund? We are now in day one of the ten longest days of summer.

June 14, 2010  As the Poodle Turns… Season Finale…

There are no puppies.  The anticipated due date has come and gone.  Daisy never grew a belly.  I guess if any dog could have an hysterical pregnancy, it would be mine.

Mom, always avoiding confrontation, decided to not ask for a refund and called the crazy breeder today, making tentative plans to try again in the Fall.

Daisy remains confused and nuts. She doesn’t understand why her people are referring to her as “dog” and not “precious little mamma” any more.

July 12, 2010  Although Season 1 of As the Poodle Turns… is over, here is a mid-hiatus teaser.

OK, she may not have been pregnant but she is still crazy…. Daisy, eating breakfast in the kitchen, hears the dog treat commercial that says “bacon, bacon, BACON!” and races into the living room, mouthful of food spewing everywhere, to watch. It ends, she wags her tail, picks up the food she dropped and returns to her bowl. Really smart or really nuts?

There’s that fine line again.

%d bloggers like this: