And then he was three!

OK, so I'm REALLY REALLY behind on this blog. We are clear back in February. I'm so embarrassed. That just means that I'm a busy mom, so dedicated to my home and family that I have no time for nonsense like blogging, right? Uh huh. Bear with me while I write a few short posts to catch us up.

Rowan's third birthday was everything a little boy could hope for. After some very serious deliberation, he decided to go for the monster truck theme this year. We had monster truck plates, decorations (hand made decor by yours truly, thank you very much) and a lovely monster truck cake. Since Wil and I were heading out to a vet conference in Las Vegas and would be gone for Rowan's actual birthday, we had the party the Saturday before. We invited Rowan's friends, and of course our friends too. It was a great party.




The party started with a prefunk though, as I stayed up half of the night making these little truck cupcakes for Rowan's daycare party. These are cute, but insanely tedious. Easily a 2, maybe 3, glass of wine job.



Of course having the party before his actual birthday meant that Rowan would have several days of birthday fun. The birthday extravaganza was only enhanced by the fact that the kids would be staying with Grandma and Grandpa while we were at the conference.

Wil and I thoroughly enjoyed the vet conference, despite me being in continuing ed classes an average of 9 hours a day. We still had plenty of time to enjoy Vegas and several days of just us.

Unfortunately, we came back from beautiful 60 degree weather to our minivan completely covered in snow at the airport parking lot. Ugh.

The good thing about snow is snowmobiling! Wil got the snowmobile running and he, Lola and some friends were serious die-hards outside one afternoon. They played and played, only coming in when the kids were pretty sure they were freezing to death.



The chihuahuas, however, did not appreciate the snow.



All in all, February was pretty stellar. Now, lets see how long it takes me to get to March.

Get back on the horse

Two and one half years ago I fell off my horse and broke my back. Not many people know this little tidbit of information. I guess I must have hidden it well at the time. It was the day before Halloween, 2008, and I was invited to take a lovely ride into the mountains in Idaho that brisk and sunny day. I was riding my horse, Rio, whom I had only ridden twice before since purchasing him in 2007. Only days after buying Rio, I had found out that I was pregnant with Rowan, and common sense dictated that I not ride my new horse with only 30 days of training while I was carrying a child. Consequently, I found myself a little over a year later, 3 miles up in the mountains on a narrow logging trail with a couple of friends, riding a very green horse. It was a beautiful day, and I paused for a moment to rest my right ankle and admire the tamaracks that were turning a beautiful shade of orange.

Unaware that we had stopped in a hornets nest, I blissfully removed my foot from the stirrup and rolled my ankle while contemplating the amazing view of the mountains. Well, you can only imagine that a nest of angry hornets attacking my horse's belly had an adverse affect on his calm demeanor, and he bolted. Unprepared for the sudden spook, I fell from my 16 hand horse and hit the ground hard. I remember attempting to get up several times, each time flailing around like a wounded bird, until I realized that I really was hurt, and that staying still might be a sound plan.

My horse came back and stood over me, apologetically, as if wondering "why are you down there? Did I do that?" After awhile, I was able to get up and climb back up in the saddle with help from my friend. I don't remember much of the 3 mile ride back down the mountain, but I do remember loading my horse in the trailer, and calling the vet clinic to tell them I would be stopping by for ibuprofen and ice packs. Wil met me in town and we drove to the ER, where they told me that I had torn muscles from my pelvic bones, and that time and rest would bring a full recovery. 10 months later I was still sore, so I finally had radiographs taken, which revealed a freaky congenital abnormality that had broken in the fall, and had since grown a weird butterfly shaped arthritic bony structure...this was the cause of all the pain. A few months later I worked up the courage to visit the MRI machine. I found out that two of the intervertebral disks were nearly gone, and two more were bulging out.

About this time I had the opportunity to send my horse to horsey boot camp with a friend's horse in Poulsbo, Washington. We decided to make the trek. We borrowed a trailer and loaded both horses for the nearly 400 mile journey. Coming down the hill into Colfax, a lady kept flashing her lights and honking at us, and I looked in my rear view mirror to see my trailer door fly open and cross multiple lanes of traffic. Panicked and using combinations of swear words that I had never thought possible, I pulled into a gas station (I did need gas) to make sure the horses were still alive. Watch out for those red concrete poles that guard the gas pumps, people, because they are trailer eaters. I smacked the borrowed trailer fender right into one of those poles, bending the fender nearly into the trailer tire. My friend and I stopped to consider the implications of this unlucky event on our journey. We nearly turned around and dumped the horses so that we could go to the bar, but we rallied and continued on after a nice man from the Grange came and used a crow bar to straighten the fender. About this time the brake and turn signal lights on the trailer gave out. We hit rush hour in Tacoma on I5 with no lights and in the middle of a rainstorm. After many near misses involving impatient people in Prius cars, we finally made it to our destination.

Last weekend we went back to pick up the horses. We rode for an hour under the instruction of our trainer, and headed for home. It didn't feel real, riding again for the first time in 2 1/2 years. At first I shook, and then I teared up, and then I felt it all coming back to me again.

Tonight we took our horses to the arena and I rode. I rode for real, without fear, and without hesitation. I could feel my muscles working they way that they were made to work, and I felt like I was a team with Rio, and it was wonderful. After the accident I felt fear of a horse for the first time in my life, and I think it is because I worry so much about my children. Tonight I had no fear, only exhilaration and an an awesome appreciation for a second chance at the amazing bond that can form between a horse and a person. Looking back I am so thankful that I have been blessed with the ability to be whole again, and to ride again. I know I have a long road to haul, but I am so thankful to have been given the chance to fall, and to get back in the saddle again.

Lola's Church Pictures Part 1

Lola likes to draw in church. Left unchecked, she will draw all over the comment cards and other papers left in the pews. I am fairly certain that these items are not left there for children to draw on, but Lola seems to think otherwise. Lately I have been letting her draw in the little notebook I keep in my purse. Here is the first sample of her artwork that I will post for your viewing enjoyment. This drawing is entitled, "Sad Kitty in the Rain"

Enjoy.

On Wings of Horses

This blog, started as a simple way to keep in touch with friends and family scattered across the world, has become so much more to me. I realize now that it has become much more than just a record of our family life, but an account of how I myself live that life, with all its ups and downs. Most entries are definitely about the kids, but here and there I have sprinkled in a few entries solely about my own thoughts and feelings. This is going to be one of those entries.



To my mare,

When I met you I had been searching for a fairytale ideal. I wanted a tall flashy steed, black and white with flowing mane and tail, and the grace and style of a Lipizzaner stallion. Instead, I saw you, a small, round, brown mare, only four years old, with a short black mane, and a lazy disposition. Instantly I knew you were the one.

We bonded fast over the love of long rides in the evening, and I soon realized that your lazy approach to life disappeared at the first glimpse of a coyote or a deer in the field. We would run faster than I could ever imagine your short legs could move, chasing our target through dusty stubble until I would whisper "whoa girl" and sit back in the saddle, and you would slide to a halt, blowing and snorting final warnings to the poor creature we had been pursuing.

I dressed you in silly blankets and coverings to keep your coat smooth and your mane and tail nice for shows. You participated willingly, and I could see you roll your eyes at the competition, knowing we would win. Whether we won or lost, I know we both had fun, jumping, reining, trail riding, or pretending that we could do dressage.

You were my best friend, my confidant. I could tell you anything, and you would look at me with those large brown eyes and I know you understood in your own way. We spent so many hours together that we were a true team, you and I. A dream come true. And then I left you, and went away to pursue other dreams. You were bored, and I had no time to visit. There was no more galloping through the fields, kicking up dust and scaring the wildlife.

I noticed that your feet seemed sore one day. You were fifteen. The vet diagnosed navicular disease, and I tried medications, but you hated them. You would laugh with your eyes as I tried again and again to force the paste in your mouth, ending up with most of it in my hair. I gave up, and decided to let you be. After all, I was still in school, and couldn't ride you anyway. I retired you to pasture with some other horses, and there you remained for years.

By the time I had reached my career goals, you were nearly 20, and I was still busy. Your feet seemed to bother you more, and I took you to see the specialists. You gave them a run for their money! They told me you were "difficult" and I just smiled and said "she's an old stubborn lady, what can I say?" More problems were diagnosed, and I chose to ignore them.

More years have passed, and you are twenty-four. I have watched your joints swell and I haven't seen you run in over a year. I watch you try to keep up with the herd as they gallop across the pasture. You whinny at them, imploring them to wait, but they are youngsters, and you are getting old. I watch you trot after them, ears back in irritation, tail swishing, until you finally slow to a walk, and then stop, dropping your head with a great breath. A sigh? You are too sore for me to climb up on your back. Our riding days are over.

Last month I saw you lying down a lot more than usual. Last week you stayed in the same spot by the corner of the barn all day long. The black pony kept you company for awhile, but eventually he moved on to chase the huns by the creek. I finally walked out to look at your legs. How did this happen? How did you get so old so fast? Your eyes lit up when you saw me, just like they always do. I ruffled your forelock, and realized with a great weight that you are not long for this earth. You hurt, and I can see it in your eyes, your posture, and the way you watch the other horses as they run.

Today the tractor came. You watched it with mild interest as it dug a great hole on the hill. I chose a spot in the grass field, near the pond, where you could watch the sun set over the wheat fields. The snowflakes fell, covering the tracks as the tractor rumbled away, its job done. The sun came out and you seemed to feel better, a good day.

I couldn't let you go today. You don't know it, but you are more than just a horse. You are a connection to a lifetime that is forever gone. When I look at you, I can fade into memories of warm summer evenings, running through the fields, racing cars as they drove on the confines of the black road. Your life has spanned so many changes in my own, and you are the steady thread that runs through those changes, a constant that could always be counted on to never change.

Unfortunately change is inevitable to all, and now your body has changed, slowing crippling you, and there is nothing that can stop the slow aging process. I checked on you tonight, and you were standing there, in your spot, looking out at the fields. I'll never know what goes on behind those soft brown eyes, but I like to think that you are remembering happy days.

I'm morbidly comforted by the hole the tractor left us today, knowing that soon we will part, but that it can be on our terms, with no "scheduling". Sometime soon, you will tell me with those eyes when you have had enough, and I will let you go. I will keep a watchful eye on you, and I pray that we can make it through the chill of this one last winter, so that you can enjoy one more warm summer.

I promise I will be there when it happens, to help you slip from this world to the next. I will stay until the life has faded from those tired brown eyes. And when you are gone, I will still visit you in that quiet spot on the hill, and remember how much I loved you.

Christmas 2010

Christmas 2010 was wonderful. So wonderful that I can't even think of a witty or sarcastic title for this blog entry. The only bad thing about it was how fast the holidays crept up on me. I felt rushed, not entirely ready for the actual day to arrive, but when it did, I wondered what I had been stressing out about. Christmas was perfect despite a few of our cards sure to not arrive in their recipients mailboxes until after New Years, despite the mess in the house, and even despite me being on call for the clinic all weekend.

We got our tree the day after Thanksgiving, at the local feed store. The boy scouts were selling them for 10 bucks. It was a little bit of a Charlie Brown tree, but it sure looked good with all of our mismatched mish-mass of ornaments on its branches! Our ornament collection is a box full of memories. The ornaments, mostly mine, were given to me by my parents or friends or relatives as I grew up, and then came with me when I started my own family. The newest ornaments on the tree belong to the kids, and will eventually follow them to their households for their family Christmas trees. The kids love hearing stories about each ornament when we hang them up!



Of course Santa came to visit Palouse. Unfortunately, I did not get a good picture, because both kids were too busy telling Santa what they wanted for Christmas to turn around and smile at me. I am now 50% on good Santa pictures. Maybe next year. We did enjoy our wagon ride though!




The Christmas program at church was entertaining, as always. The big kids did an awesome job singing their songs, and the little kids...well...they did a great job putting on a show!



Christmas Eve is one of my favorite nights of the year. I love the Christmas Eve service at the church. All the kiddos get to come in their PJ's. Lola especially enjoyed getting to hold her own candle for Silent Night this year. Wil and I were slightly worried about the church's fire policy, but she did ok. After the service, we went home to put out cookies and milk for Santa, and of course carrots for Rudolph. I thought that last year was Lola's final Christmas believing in Santa Claus, but she seemed to enjoy the idea of him this year. Maybe she was just playing make believe, and maybe not, but it was fun to watch the kids put out those cookies, and whisper to each other about how Santa would make it down our chimney without burning his behind. Both kids went to sleep fairly easily that night, which was awesome. About 11 pm, I couldn't find Ivy to put her in her kennel. I found her downstairs, keeping watch for Santa with Lola.



Christmas morning brought stockings full of fun, and gifts under the tree. Soon the house was a complete disaster, and Wil and I were cursing the toy manufacturers that insist on locking up the toy cars and horses like Fort Knox. Seriously, why would they feel the need to make you go get a freakin' screwdriver to release a toy airplane from it's cardboard prison? And the twisty wires? Come on people, do you need to wind them six thousand times around Barbie's wrists? And what is with sewing the cardboard and wire device to Barbie's actual hair? Honestly, the people who designed those next to impossible toy trapping cuss inducing contraptions must have never had to listen to a toddler repeating "Where's my airplane? Can I have my airplane? I need my airplane" over and over while sustaining strangulating wire injuries to their fingers trying to remove said airplane.




We have since settled down, gotten most of the Christmas decorations put away, and are back to the usual routine. Here are the kids and the dogs enjoying a leftover box.


Anyway, aside from a few minor temper tantrums (mostly mine) the holidays were great. Thank you all our friends and family for the cards, gifts, parties, and good times. We appreciate you all, and wish you all a very happy 2011!

Oh, and an update on Rio, here he is at horsey boot camp, learning to be a real horse! He will come home next month. Yeah!

Slacker Mama

Once again I have slid backwards into my comfortable slacker mama persona. I promised myself that I would keep up on this blog, and yet I haven't updated in...ahem...awhile. So much has happened since the last update! And away we go.....

Well, first off, the adorable little mouse like creatures that we call chihuahua puppies have all grown up and moved on to their new homes. All except one, Mojo, whose sheer insane level of puppy adorable has allowed him to remain with us. I am happy, the kids are happy, Wil...well, he is happy that we are happy! The kids were surprisingly good about letting the puppies go to their new homes. I enjoyed the experience, but I am very grateful that the daily amount of poop and pee cleaning has dropped dramatically since they left. Don't get me wrong, there are still plenty of unsavory bodily fluid messes for me to clean up, so I won't get rusty or anything. You gotta keep up your skills, you know!



Later in September, Lola had her first experience showing a chicken at the fair. Our lovely specimen, Diamond Hen, was a real sport about the whole thing, enduring a bath, a week in a cage surrounded by sticky children and other unhappy chickens, and most humiliating of all, the chicken costume contest. Let me just say that the chicken showing part was just how you would imagine it with preschool kids. Lots of adorable children pack their large chickens up to a table and the judge asks each kid a question about said chicken, maybe looks it over a little, and then everyone gets ribbons. The costume contest, however, was a whole new world. I apparently did not take the costume contest as seriously as I should have. The competition was absolutely fierce. Obviously I need to vastly improve my sewing skills before I tackle that aspect of poultry showing again. I thought it was bad enough that I spent my evening the night before sewing a superhero cape for a chicken, but apparently the woman who sewed the little wizard hat and robes for her daughter's rooster is on an entirely different level of greatness.

All in all, the chicken showing thing was pretty fun, and Lola was a champ with her barn duty. She thought wining the ribbons was awesome, and Diamond Hen did not seem any worse for the wear. Lola's thoughts on the whole deal? "Mom, next year can we show a cow?" Ugh. If there is a cow costume contest, then seriously, count me out.

School started up again without much issue. Lola was very sad that she did not get to go to Kindergarten with her friends, who are mostly older than her by at least 2 months. She has settled into preschool, however, and is looking forward to kindergarten next year.

October was fairly uneventful, with Halloween of course being the highlight of the month for the kids. Lola went to the fabric store with me to choose her costume this year. She wanted to be a pink flamingo. I have since decided that under the little "notions" section on the flamingo pattern, next to the zipper and the elastic it should really read "at least 3 glasses of wine for each night spent sewing a thousand pink feathers on the blasted fleece." Good lord I thought I would never see the end of it! All those feathers! My vacuum hose is full of them, my cats are still barfing them up, and I just recently found one in my slipper. Anyway, her costume turned out awesome, and she loved it. Please see adorable video below for costume admiration.

Rowan's handmade dinosaur costume was not meant to be, as my frigging sewing machine broke down AGAIN in the middle of it. When your sewing machine actually speaks to you and says "safety device activated!" while sending a broken needle flying at your eyeball, I think what it really means is "what were you thinking? Don't be a hero, buy the kid a skeleton costume at WalMart and have another glass of wine." So, not one to argue with a sewing machine, that is exactly what I did.

Wil's crowing achievement of the last few months is teaching his children how to headbang to Queen. This is a life skill that they will value and use in many different situations as they grow, I'm sure.

We even managed to squeeze in a little Halloween fun of our own. I found my crimper!! Hail to the 80's!



November has brought with it Lola's 5th birthday. For some reason 5 just seems so huge to me. I just can't even believe it. My baby is 5. She actually asked me for an iPod the other day. Seriously. We had a Fancy Nancy birthday blast, and all the little girls had an awesome time decorating the table, sprinkling and frosting cupcakes, and doing their makeup. Lola even forgave me for only allowing her to invite a few friends. (We are really sorry about not being able to invite all of Lola's friends, but I just couldn't handle a full blown birthday bash this year!) Glamorous darling!



And that is that on the kid front. On the mommy front, I got a little taste of freedom in a trip to the west side with a friend and our horses. The horses are off to boot camp for 90 days. After a completely harrowing trip there involving a large truck and horse trailer, two horses, rush hour on I5, rain, darkness, and no left blinker or brake lights, we completely deserved to take the weekend off and enjoy a little girl time in Seattle. I feel refreshed, but that small taste of kid free fun left me wanting more! I think I may have to make it a habit to get out more often!

So We Decided to Have Puppies.....

Announcing the birth of our four adorable new additions to the family! Well, at least for the next 8 weeks, then Wil says they need to find new homes. Ivy had her puppies without any troubles on August 29th, between noon and 2 pm. Her temperature dropped the morning of the 28th, a sure fire way to guess there would be pups within the next 24 hours. So of course I worried and watched all that day, and then set my alarm to wake me up every hour all that night to check on her. Every time I peeked around the corner to look, she would give me this look like "Hey crazy lady, are you stalking me? Freak!" and then she would curl up and go back to sleep.

I figured my thermometer was broken, and we decided to go to church the next morning. We were gone 90 minutes. When I came back I rushed to check on her, and noticed that she had dragged all of her toys into her little box I had fixed up for her to give birth in. Hidden amongst the toys was one tiny black and white puppy!

Here is a picture of Sterling anxiously awaiting his babies...or maybe he is anxiously awaiting a treat...hard to tell.


Pandemonium ensued as the kids figured out what was going on. I settled them down and they got to watch as puppy number two entered the world. I shooed the kids out and anxiously awaited the birth of number three, which was followed by a surprise number four. The whole time I hovered, poised to jump in with my clamps, drugs, lube and gloves, but I was completely unneeded.


The little ones are doing great. Poor mama dog is getting a little tired of solitary confinement with her youngsters....I know how she feels! She is a great mama though and they are growing really well. She is eating me completely out of dog food!