So my fabulous mother enlightened me on Critter Coach after reading my post. Again, I have no idea what the real story was with my encounter the other day. I don't know if the puppies jumped out the window, if the puppies figured out how to open the door of the van, or if Mr. Critter Coach was engaging in puppy saving heroics by running into the road to rescue the cute little four legged critters. I have no idea what happened, just an overactive imagination that keeps me quite entertained at times.
Anyway, here is what I have learned about Critter Coach. They take your pets to the vet or groomer or pet sitter or play date for you. Many people are quite busy and unable to take off work to care for their little friends. Enter the Coach that transports for you. It sounds like the animal equivalent of a motor home with padded crates and heating pads when you need them. Kudos to Mr. Critter Coach founder for seeing a need and taking initiative. The vets and animal hospitals and clients love you. They appreciate you helping them out in a tight spot.
Now, I repeat... I have no idea if the Yorkies escaped from the van. Don't go taking out my imaginative story on Critter Coach. They seem to be super nice and animal loving people.
And they don't transport people, so I need to find another benefactor and chauffeur to the spa.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Friday, August 28, 2009
Puppies on the Loose
No, not my hooligans, or their fault. And NO, there are NO, I repeat NO PUPPIES in this house, nor are there any anywhere around it that have permission to be here.
Driving Thomas to school yesterday we saw something a bit odd. Traffic was slow, then stopped. Yeah, nothing new there. Then, however, I saw why were were slowing and stopping. There was a van pulled off to one side of the road, and in the middle of the other side and in the dirt on the side of the road were two cute little dogs. They were still alive and running around, hence stopped traffic. The back of the van said "Critter Coach" which I first thought to mean a coach for critters. Like a football coach or vocal coach for little critters. Perhaps even a soccer coach. A coach for your kids, or hooligans in my case, kind of critters, even.
Wait a minute, the guy from that van is running across the street into traffic and towards the dogs. Lucky for him, traffic wasn't going anywhere because people were looking at the dogs and had no clue where the little four-legged guys were headed next. All the drivers were very careful and concerned about the little dogs. I could see it on their faces and hear it in their thoughts. Body language screamed "I am being careful because I am concerned about these little dogs in the road."
The dogs looked like Yorkies. With my vast knowledge of dogs, I am 138% sure they were Yorkies. Yep, definitely Yorkies. Cute little Yorkies.
Then, I decided "Critter Coach" probably must mean a coach for critters in the stagecoach sense. A chauffer for your animal, non-kid, critters for those people with more money than sense who send their pets to the spa or other pet outings. I will volunteer to ride in the critter coach if that is how I can get a trip to the spa. Just give me enough advance notice so I can take some allergy meds to endure my travel companions.
Scratch that. Somehow, these little dogs escaped from a guy 9 times their size and 27 times their weight out of a moving vehicle. If you want to pay for me to go to the spa, I will just drive myself, thank you. I also don't want to see a guy 9 times my size and 27 times my weight. That is one big, make that enormous, dude. I accept cash and gift cards.
**Disclaimer: I have no idea who or what "Critter Coach" is or if this is the actual scenario that occurred. But it sure did make for an entertaining trip of my imagination. And don't tell me you didn't like my recounting of my version of the story. Sorry if I insulted you, Critter Coach and Critter Coach driver. Maybe you were so touched by the little dogs in the road that you just had to stop to rescue them. I feel a commercial coming on.... "We salute YOU, Mr. Critter-Coach-with-escaped-puppies-driii-iiii-ver!"
Driving Thomas to school yesterday we saw something a bit odd. Traffic was slow, then stopped. Yeah, nothing new there. Then, however, I saw why were were slowing and stopping. There was a van pulled off to one side of the road, and in the middle of the other side and in the dirt on the side of the road were two cute little dogs. They were still alive and running around, hence stopped traffic. The back of the van said "Critter Coach" which I first thought to mean a coach for critters. Like a football coach or vocal coach for little critters. Perhaps even a soccer coach. A coach for your kids, or hooligans in my case, kind of critters, even.
Wait a minute, the guy from that van is running across the street into traffic and towards the dogs. Lucky for him, traffic wasn't going anywhere because people were looking at the dogs and had no clue where the little four-legged guys were headed next. All the drivers were very careful and concerned about the little dogs. I could see it on their faces and hear it in their thoughts. Body language screamed "I am being careful because I am concerned about these little dogs in the road."
The dogs looked like Yorkies. With my vast knowledge of dogs, I am 138% sure they were Yorkies. Yep, definitely Yorkies. Cute little Yorkies.
Then, I decided "Critter Coach" probably must mean a coach for critters in the stagecoach sense. A chauffer for your animal, non-kid, critters for those people with more money than sense who send their pets to the spa or other pet outings. I will volunteer to ride in the critter coach if that is how I can get a trip to the spa. Just give me enough advance notice so I can take some allergy meds to endure my travel companions.
Scratch that. Somehow, these little dogs escaped from a guy 9 times their size and 27 times their weight out of a moving vehicle. If you want to pay for me to go to the spa, I will just drive myself, thank you. I also don't want to see a guy 9 times my size and 27 times my weight. That is one big, make that enormous, dude. I accept cash and gift cards.
**Disclaimer: I have no idea who or what "Critter Coach" is or if this is the actual scenario that occurred. But it sure did make for an entertaining trip of my imagination. And don't tell me you didn't like my recounting of my version of the story. Sorry if I insulted you, Critter Coach and Critter Coach driver. Maybe you were so touched by the little dogs in the road that you just had to stop to rescue them. I feel a commercial coming on.... "We salute YOU, Mr. Critter-Coach-with-escaped-puppies-driii-iiii-ver!"
Monday, August 24, 2009
Say What?
Jerry is going to the eye doctor tomorrow. We were snuggling before naps when he started talking about the doctor looking inside his eyes. Then he said "The monster took my eyes out. And the dinosaur put my eyeballs back in. The dinosaur will glue my eyeballs back inside my head." Um, okay?
This evening I was playing with the boys and squishing Thomas and Jerry together in a big tight hug. They would both scream and laugh. Thomas let out an exceptional scream, right into my ear which is still ringing. Then he told me "some of my voice came out and it's missing."
Michael has a slight cow obsession. Maybe we made one too many free trips to Chick-fil-a. When he sees a cow, he throws his head back and lets out a loud and long MOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! The first time he did it we were on the way to school. We pass by a place that has about 20 cows or so. Out of nowhere I saw in the baby mirror he threw both hands up over his head, threw his head back, and let out his moo. I'll try to get that one on camera. I laugh every time.
These kids are strange. I need to write more of these down.
This evening I was playing with the boys and squishing Thomas and Jerry together in a big tight hug. They would both scream and laugh. Thomas let out an exceptional scream, right into my ear which is still ringing. Then he told me "some of my voice came out and it's missing."
Michael has a slight cow obsession. Maybe we made one too many free trips to Chick-fil-a. When he sees a cow, he throws his head back and lets out a loud and long MOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! The first time he did it we were on the way to school. We pass by a place that has about 20 cows or so. Out of nowhere I saw in the baby mirror he threw both hands up over his head, threw his head back, and let out his moo. I'll try to get that one on camera. I laugh every time.
These kids are strange. I need to write more of these down.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Obsessively Stitching: Kids' Art Apron from Dishtowel -- TUTORIAL
Obsessively Stitching: Kids' Art Apron from Dishtowel -- TUTORIAL
This little apron is so stinkin cute! With my little artsy boys around, this is perfect. Now if only Michael would stop eating the crayons :/
This little apron is so stinkin cute! With my little artsy boys around, this is perfect. Now if only Michael would stop eating the crayons :/
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Do I Know You?
Do you ever feel like you know people that you don't really know? Not the celebrities who have their lives plastered all over everywhere for us to live vicariously through. I'm talking about the random, every day people that we "know" in some way. For example...
I spend hours, literally HOURS, doing carpool each day. Seriously, I spend close to 3 hours a day for my kid to go to school, but that's another story. There are several people I know through carpool. There is the "Twingles" nice white Suburban (oh, I want her truck so bad) lady. Why do I call her Twingles, you ask. Well, I shall tell you. She has the cutest bumper sticker that says "Twingles/ Twins and Another/ I'm a lucky mother" and I just think it is the cutest thing. Her twin boys are in kindergarten. I wanted to wave to her and say hi when I saw her school supply shopping at Wal-mart, but she has no clue who I am.
There is the new red Suburban lady who works near the rock quarry in Knightdale, less than a block from Krispy Kreme (that doesn't make their donuts at the shop and trucks them over from the Raleigh store) and Chick-fil-a. There is the teal MPV lady who has a kid in 3rd grade. She used to have the same trainer as I did and she read books while on the bike at the gym. That is until the gym closed down.
Of course, there is also the gold Lexus SUV lady who cut in front of everybody who had been waiting 30 minutes in line because she happened to pull up just as the security dude let the cars onto campus, but we won't talk about that because my mom taught me "if you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all," and so I shall remain silent. Thumper taught me that too, BTW. I also get a kick out of the silver Odyssey. It just makes me giggle to see someone else driving a car just like mine, with the same little magnet on the back. I want to wave at her and say "nice car" one day.
I can't forget to mention the green Sienna dad who gets off the same exit I do, then turns the other way. I really want to follow him home one day to see where he lives and then offer to carpool. Then again, would you want your kid to carpool with some nutso lady who followed you home just to ask if you want to carpool. Scratch that. Need another plan.
How on earth do I know what grade these kids are in, you ask. Carpool hang tags, of course. The school is so smart, your grade is the first digit of your carpool number. Kindergarten is 0--, and first grade is 1--, and so on. Most I can tell if they have boys or girls because we sit in the same spot each afternoon as we wait to start the slow crawl through the line. Actually we get there 30 minutes before school gets out, sit on a side street with our cars off and sweating our brains out with little siblings screaming for fruit snacks from the back seat, and wait for the magical whistle to start your engines. I may sit for 30 minutes on a side street to get to the front of the line, but I don't have to pay attention to the line in front of me moving, or not moving. I sit and wait, then get to the front of the line and sit and wait again for the kids to come out. It's cheaper to sit with the car off than on and creeping along for 20 minutes, and when I drove almost 90 miles a day for school, every idling moment counts.
So who do you know? Do you know the bank teller that deposits your check each pay day? Do you have your favorite grocery store checker-outer? The librarian that keeps your kids entertained for a few precious minutes for you to shut your eyes?
Maybe this afternoon I will get out of the car and introduce myself to these people. Or maybe not, I kind of like the mystery about them. Or maybe I like the mystery about me... if I don't prove I'm a nut case, it is just what they think they know about me.
I spend hours, literally HOURS, doing carpool each day. Seriously, I spend close to 3 hours a day for my kid to go to school, but that's another story. There are several people I know through carpool. There is the "Twingles" nice white Suburban (oh, I want her truck so bad) lady. Why do I call her Twingles, you ask. Well, I shall tell you. She has the cutest bumper sticker that says "Twingles/ Twins and Another/ I'm a lucky mother" and I just think it is the cutest thing. Her twin boys are in kindergarten. I wanted to wave to her and say hi when I saw her school supply shopping at Wal-mart, but she has no clue who I am.
There is the new red Suburban lady who works near the rock quarry in Knightdale, less than a block from Krispy Kreme (that doesn't make their donuts at the shop and trucks them over from the Raleigh store) and Chick-fil-a. There is the teal MPV lady who has a kid in 3rd grade. She used to have the same trainer as I did and she read books while on the bike at the gym. That is until the gym closed down.
Of course, there is also the gold Lexus SUV lady who cut in front of everybody who had been waiting 30 minutes in line because she happened to pull up just as the security dude let the cars onto campus, but we won't talk about that because my mom taught me "if you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all," and so I shall remain silent. Thumper taught me that too, BTW. I also get a kick out of the silver Odyssey. It just makes me giggle to see someone else driving a car just like mine, with the same little magnet on the back. I want to wave at her and say "nice car" one day.
I can't forget to mention the green Sienna dad who gets off the same exit I do, then turns the other way. I really want to follow him home one day to see where he lives and then offer to carpool. Then again, would you want your kid to carpool with some nutso lady who followed you home just to ask if you want to carpool. Scratch that. Need another plan.
How on earth do I know what grade these kids are in, you ask. Carpool hang tags, of course. The school is so smart, your grade is the first digit of your carpool number. Kindergarten is 0--, and first grade is 1--, and so on. Most I can tell if they have boys or girls because we sit in the same spot each afternoon as we wait to start the slow crawl through the line. Actually we get there 30 minutes before school gets out, sit on a side street with our cars off and sweating our brains out with little siblings screaming for fruit snacks from the back seat, and wait for the magical whistle to start your engines. I may sit for 30 minutes on a side street to get to the front of the line, but I don't have to pay attention to the line in front of me moving, or not moving. I sit and wait, then get to the front of the line and sit and wait again for the kids to come out. It's cheaper to sit with the car off than on and creeping along for 20 minutes, and when I drove almost 90 miles a day for school, every idling moment counts.
So who do you know? Do you know the bank teller that deposits your check each pay day? Do you have your favorite grocery store checker-outer? The librarian that keeps your kids entertained for a few precious minutes for you to shut your eyes?
Maybe this afternoon I will get out of the car and introduce myself to these people. Or maybe not, I kind of like the mystery about them. Or maybe I like the mystery about me... if I don't prove I'm a nut case, it is just what they think they know about me.
Monday, August 17, 2009
Swimming in Syrup
Yes, you read that right. We went swimming in syrup this morning. Dinner last night was French Toast and I made enough to have leftovers for breakfast. Despite going to bed at some insanely late hour for a three year old, the little hooligan was up with the sun. I needed to jump in the rain room before heading out for the morning carpool run, so I set the older two hooligans down with their breakfast, made sure the pantry and fridge were locked, and headed up for a quick shower. By the time I got downstairs the little bugger had two plates covered with gigantic puddles of syrup, one piece of toast with the middle eaten out swimming in the syrup on one of the plates, a massive syrup puddle on the table that was dripping onto the floor, drips and puddles on a chair, and the floor. Half a bottle of syrup all over my kitchen. The pill pushed a chair over, climbed up, unlocked the pantry, scaled the shelves and got the syrup down. Nice discovery 10 minutes before you need to pull out of the driveway.
Since getting home the little two emptied a bookshelf, dumped out the toys, made a picnic in the living room, splashed the toilet water all over the bathroom, adjusted the radio in Baby's room, took apart the cheese slicer, lost a piece, and have somehow managed to survive.
I think I need a padlock on my pantry and a cage in my living room.
Since getting home the little two emptied a bookshelf, dumped out the toys, made a picnic in the living room, splashed the toilet water all over the bathroom, adjusted the radio in Baby's room, took apart the cheese slicer, lost a piece, and have somehow managed to survive.
I think I need a padlock on my pantry and a cage in my living room.
Friday, August 07, 2009
Buckle Up
We have an extra car seat from when Thomas was little and we had a seat in each car. Back when we had 2 working cars. Way back when. Anyway, this extra seat hangs out in the music room. Why, I have no idea, it just does. Today, I walked through and passed by the seat. I looked down and saw Winnie the Pooh buckled in tightly. Good job Winnie, you can ride with me any time.
And now Jerry is sitting in the shopping cart and reading a book. Nice recliner kid. No seat belt, though.
And now Jerry is sitting in the shopping cart and reading a book. Nice recliner kid. No seat belt, though.
Wednesday, August 05, 2009
The Pod Swaddler Pattern GUEST GIVEAWAY!!!!
The Pod Swaddler Pattern GUEST GIVEAWAY!!!!
I saw this today and thought it was a cute and great idea. I just might have to get the pattern and start making them for baby gifts. You ought to at least go check out the cute baby in the pictures. I just want to rub her little head.
I saw this today and thought it was a cute and great idea. I just might have to get the pattern and start making them for baby gifts. You ought to at least go check out the cute baby in the pictures. I just want to rub her little head.
Frick and Frack
My little hooligans are full of fun and adventure. Maybe not always the kind of adventure that parents love, but they have a grand time in the moment. Now that Thomas is back in school, Jerry and Michael have lots and lots of hours of time, just the two of them. They are pretty much conjoined in their escapades. They can be the best of buddies and a disastrous or dangerous team. This morning they dumped out all the toy bins all over the downstairs. They ran around chasing each other and laughing hysterically. They hide under the blankets and find themselves quite amusing when they pop out or ask me to find them. Whatever Jerry does, Michael is sure to follow suit and copy him. If Jerry climbs on top of a bucket, Michael is next. It also goes the other way. Michael started dumping all the diapers out of the bucket, so Jerry had to get in on the fun. It is so much fun to watch and listen to them play together. They really are great buddies. However, they are still brothers too. We have many battles over the same toys. Both seem to want mommy time at the same time. They are really learning to beat the daylights out of each other when they get mad. Note to self, need to work on that one.
I am so glad my hooligans have such a fun time together. As much as they both make me nuts, it always puts a smile on my face to hear them playing and laughing and enjoying being together.
And now they are racing up and down the hallway while roaring at each other. And now one is pushing the shopping cart while the other rides the motorcycle in circles through the house. I need some earplugs.
I am so glad my hooligans have such a fun time together. As much as they both make me nuts, it always puts a smile on my face to hear them playing and laughing and enjoying being together.
And now they are racing up and down the hallway while roaring at each other. And now one is pushing the shopping cart while the other rides the motorcycle in circles through the house. I need some earplugs.
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